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Evening of Sparks

Chapter Text

“Jimin?” Jihyun whispered, gently pushing the slightly open door that groaned at the movement as it swung open to show his brother. Jimin turned away from the full length mirror, brushing his black hair from his eyes to land on his younger brother.

Jihyun stood in the doorway to Jimin’s room, eyes trailing over the usual cleanliness that always made his room seem like a pig stye. The twin sized bed was in the right hand far corner of the room, pushed up against the wall and the window where the blinds were open and letting the morning light shine through and brighten the beige walls. The comforter was a light blue, folded neatly and pillow fluffed while his brown, tattered knapsack sat diligently on the bed like a bad reminder.

The wooden floors were swept, the only rug in the room as frayed and worn as the rest of the older house, and centered in the room was a matching blue of the bed. A dresser was on the back wall, a mirror sitting nicely next to it, and the white closet doors open to show the array of clothing and dirty laundry basket filled to the brim.

Some minor posters lined the wall, mostly Big Bang and Got7 along with some American bands that Jimin loved to listen to but his younger brother had no care for and pictures. Christmas lights were strung over his bed, lightening up pictures that were held up by wooden clips and wires- something Jimin made himself.

Everything about the room was simple. Easy. Everything that Jimin prefered. He was wearing his usual for the day. Tight, dark wash jeans that hung low on his hips, a loose long sleeve tee that seemed to swallow him and a black choker around his neck with combat boots that were once pitch black, but had dulled.

Jimin turned at the sound of his brother, his dark brown eyes being swallowed as he smiled at his little brother, tugging down his sleeves as he faced him. His eyes were lined with light liner, the only make-up he truly wore, and drifted towards his bed.

“What’s up, Ji?” Jimin asked, opening his knapsack and letting his eyes trail over the loose papers, his notebook, and one textbook to make sure he had everything for the day. Jihyun shrugged, still hovering in the doorway.

“Nothing. Just dad wanted to see you before we headed out,” Jihyun replied, twiddling with the cool metal ring on his index finger- a gift from Jimin on his birthday. Jimin lifted his head, dark hair falling in front of his eyes as his head tilted.

“Dad’s home?” A little nod and soft smile. Jimin ignored the familiar hum of his blood, warming his veins and creating the buzz in his ears. He gave a bright smile. “Alright. You got breakfast right? Something good to eat?”

“I’m not five, Jiminie,” Jihyun huffed, but the warm smile was still on his features. Jimin chuckled lightly, nodding his head in agreement, eyeing his brother with a raised brow. Jihyun huffed. “Fine. I’ll go grab an apple. You want one?”

Jimin hummed. “Sounds great. Grab me a granola too.” Jihyun waved over his shoulder in dismissal, making a soft sound of agreement as his converse slapped against the wood of the hall and he disappeared.

Sighing, he closed his eyes and took a moment to breathe, silently chanting in his head for the buzzing to stop, to ignore the way his lamp flickered a bit, and how his fingers were tingling with energy.

When the buzzing slowed, he opened his eyes and grabbed his bag, tossing it over his shoulder easily as he closed the door to his room. Breathing in slowly, he walked down the hall towards the wooden door of the office, already knowing that if his dad was home this early, he would be there.

The pictures lining the walls were chuckling at him, mocking him as he dared not look at them. He already knew what they held. Pictures of back when he was normal. When he wasn’t a freak. Back when his mom was alive and his skin didn’t tingle and the freak accident didn’t fuck up everything.

Each picture was already engraven in his mind. It made his chest constrict and his stomach to bubble and cramp with anxiety and sadness, but he swallowed down the bitter taste and the uncomfortable feeling as he raised his hand to knock on the oak door of the office where the sound of paper and keys drifted to meddle with his ears.

“Come in,” a deep voice urged. Jimin released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and gripped the cold knob in his clammy one. A spark flew from his fingers to the metal, like a tiny bolt of lightening, and flickered out after a singe.

The hand on the knob tightened and he ignored the urge to dart away. He pushed open the door and let his eyes fall to father, jerking his hand away from the knob and pulled his sleeves over his hand and hiding his fingers that were itching again.

The office was exactly like how it always was. Pristine. Perfect. So utterly clean that it was actually annoying. The rosewood desk held a high tech computer, open to a document filled with random numbers and words that gave Jimin a headache, the papers on top of a large calendar with neatly scrawled handwriting to order his father around all day. The cabinets filed perfectly, color coded to perfection, and a pencil cup filled to the brim with sharpened lead and no staining ink pens.

The man behind the desk was equally clean cut. Angular features with shaved face, almond shaped eyes narrowed in calculation, intelligence, and determination. His white button up had its sleeves rolled up and folded, his dress pants ironed and his jacket across his lap as he worked. His dark hair a little messy from a hand, but otherwise perfectly in place.

“Hey dad,” Jimin greeted, realizing his father was absorbed with the numbers on his screen that he hadn’t noticed that Jimin had walked in. The younger shifted his feet awkwardly when dark eyes tore away from the screen to lock with his sons. “Um, Ji said you wanted to see me?”

“Jimin. Yes, come on in. Sorry about that.” Jimin stepped a bit further in the room as he watched his father push away from his desk and groan as he stretched himself out. He offered a little smile once he relaxed again. “The numbers were keeping my attention.”

“It’s fine,” Jimin mumbled, lowering himself in the only other chair in the room that sat directly across from the desk, the leather still new so it squeaked and groaned a bit at Jimin’s added weight. He kept as still as possibly, keeping his hands under his sleeves. “So, um, what’s up?”

Jimin kept his eyes glued to the pencil holder, counting the number of pens, the number of highlighters, and even the number of pencils and when he counted them all, he started over.

“Today you are starting your senior year, correct?” Jimin nodded slowly, already feeling the sinking pit in his stomach start to swell as he got where this conversation was headed. “I expect you to be good, son, and I allowed you to take this dance courses if you kept up with your AP work and kept your GPA high. But with last years mishap-”

“-Accident,” Jimin interrupted, gritting his teeth. He felt it. The heat. The tingle. All the things he hated as it crawled up from wherever the fuck it comes from and makes his blood boil deliciously, bouncing within his veins, wanting to be released. He willed it away. Begged it to stay within the confines of his body.

His father pursed his lips, eyes narrowing a bit further at the interruption. He looked like he wanted to say something but settled on a heavy sigh, a hand rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. Accident. I do not need that happening again-whatever it was that blew up the entire computer lab- understood? I can yank you right out of those dance courses if I see any more accidents or lowered grades. Understood?” Jimin’s father asked, head tilting to try and catch his sons eye.

“I know, dad. It won’t happen again,” Jimin promised. At least I hope not… I don’t think I can handle another thing like that, his mind whispered, flinching a bit when he recalled the episode that happened close to the end of last year. He decided to not dwell on those thoughts.

“Good boy. Now, get going. You do not need to get you or Jihyun late for your first day,” his father pointed out and returned his eyes to the screen. Just like that. He was dismissed. No ‘I love you, son’ or ‘good luck today!’. Not even a ‘I’ll see you soon’. It shouldn’t have hurt. He was use to it. But he was.

Sighing under his breath, he grabbed his knapsack resting at his feet and stood, steps briskly heading towards the door for sweet freedom where hopefully the warmth in his blood will die away.

“And, remove that liner. It’s for girls,” his father called after him just before the door shut. Flinching, he hurried faster away, ignoring the burning in his chest or how warm his skin was as he all but scrambled down the steps and out the front door.

The warm air blasted across his face as he stumbled a bit on the front porch, breathing out briskly as he kept the tingle within and focused on the hot breeze ruffling his black hair, the taste of salt on the wind from the Busan skies, and the cries of seagulls.

Briny, hot air was familiar and calming. Each breath was like licking at salt from the beach town. Since it was august, the air was still hot, the sun beating down across his skin and instantly warming him almost unbearably in his long sleeves.

He already felt the sweat build up under his skin, breaking out across his forehead, and how his shirt began to stick to his back as he glanced around. Jihyun was leaning against the black wrought iron fence, his backpack slung across his shoulders, ankles crossed, and a apple against his lips as he chewed absently, staring at the cloudy sky.

Instantly, the tension in his body eased as he breathed out slowly, gripping the strap of his bag as he walked down the wooden steps and soaked in the crunch of the sand and grass as he approached Jihyun.

“Ready?” Jimin asked, plastering a grin on his face as he placed his elbow on his brother's shoulder and leaned on him. Jihyun turned, flashing a grin as he tossed a bright green apple and granola bar.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that, Technology Repellent?” Jihyun asked, biting back a laugh at the nickname that his brother was labeled last year after the accident. Jimin flushed and groaned, shoving his 15 year old brother harshly that caused him to stumble and burst into laughter.

“Come on! That is not cool.” Jimin pouted and rolled his eyes. Jihyun pouted and grinned, showing their similarities in that smile with how both their eyes seem to disappear in that smile.

“Come on, you two! We don’t have all day!” Baekhee called, already a little ways down the street towards the high school. Jimin exchanged a look with his brother before he broke out into a light jog, Jihyun on his heels as they caught up with her.

Baekhee was a senior, like Jimin himself, and had befriended him back in freshman year when he was getting picked on for taking dance courses and could barely utter a ‘hello’ to anyone. She was everything JImin was not in freshman year. She spoke her mind, was brash and didn’t care much for consequences, but he adored her.

Now, as a senior, they had been best friends since. She had taken him under her wing and helped him branch out and gain confidence, promising him that he was handsome and sexy, while at the same time taking his little brother under her wing as well.

Baekhee was still gorgeous, in her own way. Her usually pitch black hair was dyed a scarlet red, cut short in layers and her makeup darker, lining her almond eyes that had colored contacts of a bright blue and her slender build was clad in her dark jeans, tank top, and leather jacket despite the hot weather.

“Alright, you little shits, don’t get your disgusting man-sweat all over me,” Baekhee grumbled as the now very sweaty boys stopped their running and gasped at the heat. Her button nose scrunched as Jihyun gave a pretty grin, rubbing the back of his hand on his forehead and held it out for her. “You are disgusting. You are lucky I love you.”

“Good to see you too, Baek,” Jimin greeted, straightening and adjusting his pack. Baekhee gave her usual smile, red lips curled at the corners as she leaned over and kissed his cheek. He smiled as they began to walk the rest of the short way to school. “How was Japan?”

“It was beautiful, honestly, I was a little sad to go, but mom wanted me back for the school year,” she admitted with a little smile. Jimin smiled back as she walked closer, her arm draped protectively over Jihyun as he leaned against her, biting his apple. “What about you two, losers? Jiminie, did you finish that dance course this summer? Street dance, right?”

Jimin’s heart clenched as he sighed and looked down. Jihyun cast him a small frown, already knowing how much that affected him as he snuggled a bit closer to Baek, whose frown glittered over her features.

“Dad canceled the summer course because of the accident with the computers and so he never got to go,” Jihyun explained. Jimin flinched but cast a smile of gratitude towards his little brother who smiled back. Baek’s frown deepened as recognition lit her blue eyed gaze.

“What? That was just a freak-fucking-accident. It could have happen to anyone!” Baek screeched, looking utterly enraged at this development. A sigh caught in his throat, head screaming that it couldn’t have happened to anyone. But kept silent. “Who the fuck cares if a few computers combusted and the whole school had a little power outages? No biggie.”

“Baekie, the entire computer lab of over sixty computers nearly exploded, a fuse box blew, and the school had no power at all for the last week and a half of school,” Jihyun reminded her in a pacifying voice. Jimin wanted to bury himself in the sand like an ostrich as this point.

Baekhee made a snorting laugh noise in the back of her throat as she grinned wickedly, also remembering what happened before the ‘accident’ as she gave that mischievous grin towards Jimin, who was focused on his combat boots.

“Exactly- no biggie. Plus, that little two-timing bastard got his computer nearly exploded in his face! Fucking priceless. Karma is a bitch, ain’t it?” Baek cackled. Jimin bit back a sad smile, heart clenching. “Speaking of the cheating asshat, have you seen him all summer?”

Jimin shrugged, playing with his sleeves as his ex-boyfriends face appeared in his mind, remembering the entire reason for the ‘accident’ and how badly it hurt watching Cheol kiss and make-out with someone else.

“I mean… he tried to talk to me. Came by my house and all, but I never let him in and told him to piss off and stuff,” Jimin admitted, proud that he had remained strong like that even though the guilt he felt when he saw the small burn on his cheek each time reminding him what a freak he was.

“Was your dad home?” Baek asked, a little worried. He shook his head and she gave a relieved smile. “Good. Little prick doesn’t need to ruin anything else. You’re my baby, Jiminie, and you too, Jihyunie. Don’t worry about Cheol and Ginam. They mean nothing! You are sexy as fuck and don’t need them.”

Jimin nodded, but his mind protested her words, but knew better than to voice his doubts. Still, he was grateful for her. Baek made everything a little better, and he had missed her this summer when she was away.

They walked the rest of the way to school talking about better topics, Baek offering to take the boys out for a quick shopping trip and a traditional korean dessert after Jimin’s dance practice since she hasn’t had korean food in a while and was dying. The brothers laughed and agreed, eager to spend time with her as they parted ways to head to their respective classes.

After the whispering, the talking, and the other words that followed Jimin as he went, he knew this was going to be a long day. He sighed, but pressed on. If there was one thing he could look forward to, it was his shopping with his two best friends.

His only friends at this point.

His ex had taken that from him too. All his ‘friends’ had sided with him and left him with no one but Baek and his own brother. That was fine. He rather have one really good friend that he can rely on then fake friends who would leave him to die.

So he was okay. And would continue to be okay.

********

 

“The new choreography is challenging, but is a lot of fun!” Jimin gushed, trailing behind on sore muscles that were still burning from his harsh dance course that ended about forty five minutes ago.

“Is it a street dance or contemporary?” Baek asked, still highly tuned into his babbling that he always seemed to do when it came to dance, but she never minded. She loved listening to JImin as he talked passionately about dance, just as he listened to her when she gushed about culinary.

Jimin flushed a bit. “Hip Hop for this semester and then Jazz next. I can’t take Street Dance still next summer, sadly, or par extra which dad won’t do,” he admitted, a little frown on his features. Sadness curled in her stomach, but she pushed it away for a smile as she placed another top in her cart and glanced over at her best friend.

His black hair was still a little damp from his quick shower after practice, eyes lined with fresh linder that made them pop, and he was back to normal clothing. The few clothing items he picked out hung over his arm as his brother trailed behind, a jacket draped over his own arm, was what she saw and she smiled.

“Jiminie, you know that if you ever want someone to help out, you know I have good money and don’t mind-”

“Baek,” Jimin interrupted, a frown etched into his beautiful features. She sighed and turned away, already knowing that was about to start their usual tirade. Luckily, he seemed to catch that she got the hint and wanted to drop it too.

“Anyway, how was your first day of senior year, eh?” She asked, changing the subject. Jimin smiled tightly, the darkness lingering in his eyes and weighing down his smaller shoulders, making him look even smaller than he already was.

“Fine I guess. If anything, I am just ready for high school to be over,” he muttered with another sigh and shifted his feet. Baek couldn’t deny that she had the same feelings as she glanced at her semi-full cart.

“Let’s get food. I am so not cool with this heavy mood. Let’s beat it,” she said, already shifting her cart towards the registers. Jimin chuckled lightly, glancing over at Jihyun to make sure he was following.

After getting to the registers, letting his much more social elite friend do all the talking to the cashier, Jimin decided to wander towards the nearby shoe alise, that wasn’t even a foot away from the registers when a voice froze him in place.

“Jimin?” Cheol’s deep voice said, surprise lacing his voice. Jimin froze, panic seizing his muscles at the familiarity of that voice, of the way his body shivered and how his stomach cramped with anxiety. “Jimin it is you!”

Breath catching in his throat, he swallowed thickly, mouth suddenly drier than it was at practice, and felt himself slowly turn to face the one person he didn’t want to see. The one face that made his stomach flutter with things he didn’t want.

Cheol hadn’t changed much over the summer. Maybe a little bit tanner. His broad shoulders were barely concealed by the tight white tee shirt that showed off his biceps and the muscles that Cheol was constantly working.

His hair, a golden brown from being dyed a little too much, was glimmering and thick, a bit fluffy as if he let it air dry instead of blow drying it like he was fond of. Jimin felt bitterness wash over him. He was beautiful as ever, gorgeous in ways Jimin never would be. And yet, Jimin still felt the desire to run his fingers through that fluffy hair and see if it was still soft.

Cheol had his usual grin, kind of a smirk, kind of not, that use to make Jimin’s heart pound like a wild animal trying to get out a cage. His full lips teasing and curled in the corners in friendliness, brown eyes light and dancing.

Everything about Cheol was enticing and mouth watering. The long, thick legs, broad shoulders, and height that made Jimin feel like a fucking child but secertly loved it despite his protests.

Jimin half expected his heart to flurry, to feel his usual blush caress his face anytime the male was near with his thick, musky scent that he use to breathe in like a fucking dope addict, but instead nothing but emptiness and bitterness clung to him as he stared at the face of the man he thought he would marry one day.

Cheol gave his thousand watt smile as he looked Jimin over, eyes taking in the way he hadn’t changed at all, not even a tan. The smile never left. “You look good, Jiminie. Did you get a little paler though?”

“Yeah, being cheated on by my boyfriend tends to make my skin look a little bit more like a ghost,” Jimin bit out with a sickly sweet smile, channeling his inner Baek. Cheol flinched, a guilty look washing over his face as he shifted his feet and rubbed the back of his neck.

The buzz started. He felt it growing within. Felt that surge that was additive as it was scary as he clenched his fists and breathed slowly, trying to ignore the way he felt his hands begin to shake. Not now. Not here. Not now.

Please… not here. For the love god, keep it in.

“Look, Jimin baby, about that-”

“Don’t fucking call me ‘Jimin baby’. Save that for the dick you're sucking,” Jimin snarled dangerously. The buzz was getting louder. It was blocking out the sounds of the store as heat, tingles, brushed his skin and urged him to let go.

Cheol sighed and ran a hand over his face, holding up his hands in surrender as he met Jimin’s narrowed eyes, noting the anger there. “Alright, I deserve that, but listen, Jimin, I never meant to hurt you. I swear, I was going to tell you about it, but then I started getting second thoughts when I realized that I still loved you so-”

“Fuck you Kim Cheol. Fuck you,” Jimin hissed, silencing the taller, broader male as he stepped closer. He was shaking with rage. He felt the heat in his hands, felt the way it brushed over his fingers. He kept them hidden in his sleeves. “Didn’t want to fucking hurt me? You asshole. You were fucking another guy. You were kissing him the fuck in front of me. Love me? You wouldn’t know what that was if it came up and bit you on your tiny piece of shit you call a dick.”

Cheol gaped as Jimin finished his small tirade, breathing heavy as he glared at the male he once considered to be his future as he shook his head and wished the glare could reflect all the hatred, all the pain, that he was put through so Cheol would understand.

“Take your god damn lies and bullshit and shove it up your ass for Ginam to lick up. Don’t talk to me, don’t look at me, and stay the fuck away from me and Jihyun.” Jimin turned, moving to march past him. He had made it to the registers, the anger causing the buzzing to worsen and he knew if he didn’t calm down, he was going to regret this. He hadn’t missed the flickering lights.

“Wait, Jimin!” Cheol cried, lunging and grabbing Jimin’s wrist in his large hand, firm and familiar as he he yanked the smaller boy to a stop. “Please!”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” JImin screamed, slamming his hand down on the counter. And like that, he felt all the building energy within his body surge through his tingly, boiling blood and spread out through his fingers in purple sparks as the register combusted, the nearby bulbs shattering and the Inventory control RF tags to sound the alarm.

Cheol scrambled backwards as Jimin jumped, panic overtaking his gaze as the frightened cashier called the manager and she hurried over to the RF tags. Jimin’s breathing was heavy as he stared at the damage he done.

Tears filled his eyes as he lifted his trembling hands, watching the tiny volts of little lightning jumped between his fingers before disappearing altogether. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. HIs throat was tight. Tears blurred his vision, and the pit in his stomach felt so unbearably heavy.

Why am I such a fucking freak?

When he lifted his eyes, hands numbly dropping to his side as his chest heaved, begging to find air but getting none, he looked around at the slightly panicked and confused store as they tried to fix whatever went wrong.

He froze when he saw a male, a very handsome male, across the way staring at the register, to the lights, and then back to the alarms before his knowing gaze was on him. The male looked to be a little older then him. His hair was dyed a light pink- very light, almost blonde- with some other colors mixed in.

He was incredibly handsome, in a interesting way. His face was longer, brown eyes sharp and filled with happiness despite the panic. He was very lean and seemed to be rather simple in clothing choice since he wore light wash jeans, a shirt, and sunglasses perched on his head.

But the way he was staring at Jimin made him unsettled. There was a knowing in his gaze, a bit of sympathy as if he knew what he was feeling, like the male wanted to come and speak, but refrained. Jimin didn’t like it. He felt uneasy about the male. The male whose gaze was a little too… open.

Like he knew something Jimin didn’t.

“Jimin! Jimin, come on! Let’s get out of here!” Jihyun screamed, his hands gripping Jimin’s arm tightly and tugging fiercely. Jimin snapped his eyes away from the handsome stranger, wordlessly letting his younger brother all but drag him out of the store.

He didn’t feel the three sets of eyes watching him.

Chapter Text

“Well, that was fun,” Baek muttered, taking a long swing of her soda. Jimin snorted, staring absently into his cold glass of Sprite. The heat was beating into his back, the hot wind not really helping much with the blistering heat as they sat out on the back porch of a beach cafe, cool drinks in hand, and eyes locked on the wooden table.

Jimin’s hands were running over his bracelet, mind still returning to the incident in the store that kept making the bubble of anxiety to creep up his throat and remove whatever contents of his stomach that lingered. He felt uneasy, restless, and he didn’t like it.

“Technology doesn’t seem to like you, does it, Jiminie?” Jihyun joked, trying to lighten the mood as he took a long sip of apple juice from his pink bendy straw. His brown eyes were careful, a little worried, and it made Jimin sigh.

“No, I guess it doesn’t,” he mumbled quietly, hand tightening around his bracelet that he removed from his wrist. Jihyun frowned, reaching over and placing his larger hand over the smaller hand of his older brothers. Jimin raised his head a bit.

“Hey, that wasn’t your fault.”

Wasn’t it though?

“Yeah, listen to Itty Bitty here. Don’t beat yourself up, Jimin.” Jimin opened his mouth to protest but Baek threw a ice cube at him to keep him silent. A scowl tugged at his features at the cold on his cheek. “Don’t try and deny it, Handsome. I know you. You were so downing yourself. So shut the fuck up and listen to Baekie. What did the two-timing prick want and what did you say to him because, honestly, his face was beautiful.”

Jimin bit back a sad smile when he recalled what occurred before the… thing… happened and he stared back at the table. Is hands, still covered by his sleeves and his silver bracelet clutched in his right, tightened around his glass.

“He wanted to apologize and tell me that he still loved me even though he was f-” Jimin paused, glanced at his brother before clearing his throat. “-having fun with someone else. I basically told him to leave me alone and he didn’t know love if it came up and… well yeah.”

“I’m almost sixteen, you know, you don’t have to censor yourself,” Jihyun grumbled, rolling his eyes as he took another sip of his apple juice. Jimin arched a brow and snorted in the back of his throat.

“Says the kid drinking apple juice.”

“Oh shut it,” Jihyun sighed and rolled his eyes. Jimin and Baek broke into light laughter before they settled, returning to nursing their drinks and comfortable silence. Jimin let his thoughts drift, even towards places he didn’t want, and found that his body was craving movement. Craving loud music, burning muscles, and sweat.

He didn’t want to think about what a freak he was, or Cheol, or even that odd, handsome stranger that had been lingering in his mind like a bad can of worms. More importantly, he wanted to be alone so he can be in peace. So he can think and possibly cry to himself.

Sighing, he stood, the chair grinding against the boardwalk and grabbed the attention of his best friend and little brother. He plastered a little smile on his face as he looked around.

“I’m gonna walk the beach and head to the studio for a little. I want to burn off the bad day,” Jimin announced. Jihyun frowned, but didn’t protest while Baek let the displeasure known on her face. “I promise I won’t be long but I really want some time to myself. Don’t be so mean, Baek. Take Jihyun home for me?”

“I am almost sixteen!” Jihyun whined, pouting a bit. Jimin chuckled and ruffled his black hair, similar to his own, and that only made him pout more as Jimin leaned down and kissed his brother's forehead. “Hey! Don’t kiss me, shortie!”

“Where is the respect around here?” Jimin moaned, but his smile gave him away as he drifted over and hugged Baek tightly. She hugged him back just as tight, her fingers trailing in his hair and her citrus scent warming him.

“Don’t work too hard and don’t get home too late. I don’t want you to be in trouble with your dad, okay?”

“Yes, mom,” he answered sarcastically which earned him a smack on the back of his head. He whimpered and pulled away, rubbing the offended spot as she huffed and sent him away. “Abusive much?”

“Just scram already.”

Chuckling, he fidgeted with his bracelet, clasping it back on as made sure his wallet was in his pocket along with his phone before stepping out onto the blistering hot white sand. He paused, already feeling the sweat drip between his shoulder blades, his black hair scorch, and his breathe to shakily exhale.

He didn’t care about his combat boots as he made his way along the white beach, ignoring the shouts and the splashes of people as they played in the water and the way the salty wind would bite at his face and tease his hair as he walked.

A shiver ran up his spine at the feeling of eyes. Gritting his teeth, he tried to banish the feeling, but it wasn’t working very well. Carefully, he let his gaze wander over the open water, then across the shore where the water was lapping, before shifting towards the people.

First thing he noticed was a lone figure who stood out immensely, well, more than he himself was, in all black. He looked to be in his mid-twenties and foreign. He didn’t have any Asian ancestry, basing on his skin and auburn hair. A cold look was in his steel grey eyes, a lighter flicking on and off, twirling between his fingers with his hand in his hoodie pocket, hood pulled up, and eyes locked sorely on him.

Jimin froze, legs locking as their gazes met. The man's lips turned up into a cold smile, one that made the sweat across his body turn cold and his mouth to run dry. Every cell in his body was going off.

Jerking his eyes away, he focused on keeping his breathing steady as he began walking again, trying to be as normal as possible. After a few minutes of feeling his sharp gaze, he licked his lips and cautiously glanced behind him but only to find the man gone.

Jimin breathed out in relief, feeling ridiculous, before shaking his head and picking up the pace towards the center of town where the dance studio was waiting. Leaving the beach, he kicked the sand off his boots and kept his head lowered as he walked.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that!” A cheerful voice called after a shoulder was bumped into his, causing Jimin to stumble a bit and return to the land of the living. Jimin lifted his gaze, eyes widening when he saw a eerily familiar face.

It was the guy from the store. The one who looked like he knew too much.

He was wearing the same clothes, but the look was gone, replaced by one of utter happiness while his smile could rival the sun it was so large and bright, showing a straight row of teeth as he beamed.

“I tend to be a major klutz sometimes. Sorry, sorry,” the man continued, still smiling as he shrugged while all Jimin could do was stare. Panic had seized his muscles. The bright guy didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything about it. “Oh hey, weren’t you at that store earlier?”

“S-sorry, you must h-have the wrong guy,” Jimin stuttered, cursing himself from being obvious as he snapped himself back into reality. He shrugged, adjusting his shirt a bit before bowing his head and moving to go. “No problem by the way. But I’m gonna get going.”

“Oh, uh, wait a minute,” the guy said, turning on his heel and bouncing back to join Jimin. A groan tore from the black haired male, casting a unsure look towards the brighter male beside him that made him uneasy and comfortable at the same time. “Are you sure you weren’t at the store? Pretty weird lightning stuff, huh?”

“As I said before, wrong guy.”

“Really? Cause-”

“Look, can you piss the fuck off? I’ve been having a shitty day and I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t know you, I already feel like I’ve been stared at enough, and I don’t need another weirdo to add to my list today,” Jimin snapped, feeling the words leaving his mouth quicker than he catch them. The man looked a little shocked, but slamming shut and his expression melting a tad but the bright smile was still there, just a little shaky.

“Sounds rotten. Sorry to bother you.” Jimin watched as the man turned, almost skipping away but thought better of it as he turned back around to face Jimin. “Listen, be careful, yeah? Don’t… talk to strangers? Try and stay with a group, hm’k?”

“Don’t you count as a stranger?”

“Something like that,” the man answered before shrugging. “I’m J-Hope. There. No longer strangers. See you around. Take care, kid.” And like that, the man disappeared around the corner, humming a little under his breathe.

Jimin stared after him, mind running over the name blankly. Whose name was J-Hope and why? Why would the guy say ‘don’t talk to strangers’ and ‘try and stay with a group’? Why was the bad feeling in his gut getting worse?

“Why is life so tiring?” Jimin asked no one in particular as he heaved a heavy sigh and continued his walk towards the studio, craving the dance and music more than ever to take his mind off the bad events of the day.

Ignoring the way his skin was prickling like he was being watched again, he shoved his way inside the dance studio and shut out the world.

 

******

 

“You, my lovely friend, need a night out,” Baek announced, the door to his bedroom being thrown open. Jimin looked up from the textbook in his lap, binder and paper scattered across his bed and a pen being abused from his teeth while the glasses perched on his nose were slight askew. “Wow. This is more depressing then I thought it would be.”

“Not everyone can be a grade A student without even trying, Baekhee,” Jimin said tiredly, giving her a dry look before returning his gaze to the soul-sucking AP- Advanced Placement- calculus book.

Baek huffed and drifted closer, eyes examining the book with a scrunched nose of confusion as she pulled away and cocked head to the side. “Why are you still taking the class? You don’t need it.” Jimin heaved another sigh and ran his fingers through his black hair.

“You know I am not going to college for dance, Baek. You know this. I’m going to be a-”

“-Yeah, yeah, yeah, the same shit your dad is and yada yada yda, got it,” Baek interrupted with a flick of her hair over her shoulder. Jimin snapped his mouth shut and breathed through his nose before looking back at his book. “Honestly. You are fucking amazing at dancing. Your dance instructor even wanted you to try out for a entertainment company. What the fuck.”

“Baek, trying to study here,” Jimin huffed, trying to ignore her. He didn’t need the reminder of what he can’t do no matter how badly he wants to. He was going to follow the same footsteps of his father. He was going to be the good student. At least then he can keep dancing.

Baek growled in her throat as she reached over and tore the textbook from his lap. JImin swore and lunged for it, but Baek slammed it shut and tossed it on the bed. “No. You are going out tonight. Me and you. We are going to a Street Dance party.”

“Baekhee-”

“Nope. I am ignoring you, Park Jimin, so get your pretty big ass up and get dressed,” Baek ordered, crossing her arms over her chest and eyeing him through her heavily lined eyes. Jimin remained on his bed, unmoving. “Yesterday was utter hell for you, so no more moping. We gonna find ourselves some hot pieces of ass, dance, possibly get drunk, and get wild. Fuck school, fuck your homework, and live a little.”

“Will you keep it down?” Jimin hissed, clambering down from his bed to rush over to his door and slam it shut. Baek smirked when she caught sight of his loose sweatpants that hung low on his hips, his loose tee, and messy black hair. Her best friend was adorable. She would be the first to admit it. “My dad is here!”

“Goodie. Say you are coming home with me to ‘study’ and he will let you go with a ‘have fun, my son! And work extra hard!’,” Baek replied, pulling her eyes away from his body to focus back on his face. If looks could kill, she was pretty sure his almond eyes would have laser beamed her right then and there.

“Have I ever told you that you are a annoying bitch?”

“Have I ever told you that I would fuck you till Tuesday if you weren’t gay as fuck?” Baek answered, earning the reaction she wanted of coughing and sputtering, face blotched red in embarrassment. She smirked. It was no secret that she thought he was hot, and was totally fine with him being gay, and honestly, if he wasn’t gay she could fall for a guy like him.

“I really hate you.”

“I love you too, babe, now get dressed. I shall be conversing with the devil,” Baek chuckled, turning and moving for the door. Jimin snorted in the back of his throat, murmuring a quiet ‘so, you are going to talk to yourself?’ while pulling out clothes.

Not even fifteen minutes later, he was out in the cooler night air of Busan streets, dressed in tight leather pants, his combat boots, and hair styled lightly by gel and his usual liner around his eyes as Baek walked next to him with a smirk of pride on her face.

Jimin breathed out slowly, closing his eyes and soaking up the coolness of night that wasn’t offered during the day even though it was still hot. The usual humming he felt was wild tonight, relaxed by the lack of technology, and the streets were lightly crowded and music was blasting from some of the more suburban streets.

“Thank you,” Jimin found himself whispering as the music echoed through him, bringing him to life a bit in a way only music can. Baek turned her face towards him, moonlight glinting across her hair and reflecting in her light blue eyes.

“You’re welcome, Jiminie.”

Content, he reached out and took her hand. Baek startled at first, but then got use to it. They weren’t dating, never would, but sometimes to show affection, Jimin had a tendency to show it through gestures.

Smiling to herself, she let the dup trail through the streets, watching as the crowds got thicker, the music louder as they left the suburban part and made it to the more city party was bustling with activity despite the dwindling hour.

Lining the sidewalks were kids, college students, and even some just out of college as music blasted from the music box at the their feet, a small group of them working their bodies in ways that spoke of training, or true dancing in the sharp precise movements while the crowd cheered and tried to join.

For once, the humming in his blood had nothing to do with the freakiness that was him, but the excitement and the eagerness to join in the dance and move his body. To have his time to not be the perfect son but to just dance.

Bouncing from foot to foot, Jimin’s eyes were round as he stared in wonder and longing at the dancers as they joined the crowd. Baek laughed and urged him forewards, grinning from ear to ear.

“Go on already!” She shouted over the music, giving his hand a squeeze. “Go dance, you stupid fuck!”

Without needing another reason, Jimin brushed through the crowd till he joined the small group dancing by the music box. He lost himself in the music, in letting his muscles move with familiarity and without judgement as the beat dragged him along.

Jimin wasn’t sure how long he was dancing, but sweat was plastered to him, his legs burning and his throat dry. The music had long been forgotten and the crowd was steadily starting to disperse, so he broke himself away from the front, tired eyes and sore limbs drifting over unfamiliar faces till he saw who he was looking for.

Baek grabbed his hand, laughing as they weaved their way out of the mess of tangled bodies and escaped to the fresher night air as they made their way back to the suburbs where they belonged.

“I forgot how good you were,” Baek hummed once the quiet had returned and they were at the outer edge of the suburbs, where Baek was about to break away to head down her own street. Jimin flushed and looked at the ground, a grin plastered across his face and body still hot and sweaty from the long dancing. “It is a shame you won’t be going to college for it.”

“I guess,” Jimin agreed under his breathe. Baek sighed, blowing wisps of her hair out of her face before looking over at Jimin. She smirked and lightly punched his arm. He chuckled and ruffled her hair as they paused. “See you tomorrow in detention for falling asleep in class.”

“Childish,” Baek muttered, but didn’t disagree as she turned on her heel and drifted down the street. “Catch you later, Jiminie!”

Jimin waved before shoving his hands in his pockets and letting out a tired sigh. He felt the usual energy on his skin, lingering to remind him of everything he was, but it was subdued and only lingering a bit.

Shaking his head, he let his tired limbs lead him towards home, humming under his breathe and trying to not let the darkness of the night psyche him out. The night was quieter in the suburb part, the breeze nice and tickling at his sweaty skin to help cool him down and the stars were visible as he walked.

Relief spread through his veins when he turned the next corner and realized that he was only a block away from his neighborhood and only had a another ten minute walk till he was home.

Small businesses was lining the streets where he was, usually owned by the people who lived in the apartments above the small shops that were all locked up and closed. This was the part of town that he loved. The part that made this beach town seem more like beach town then an actual city.

His footsteps echoed through the streets, but what he wasn’t expecting was for the prickling sensation of eyes on the back of his neck and the chilled feeling to run down his spine while acid pooled in his stomach.

His breathing increased when heavier steps that were not his own began to keep a steady pace. Jimin’s mind was panicking. The cooled sweat his body still held was prickling again as he fought to keep his breathing steady and to not let the terror overcome his aching limbs.

Keeping his eyes straight ahead, locked on the stars and the sky as he fought for control, ignoring the way his skin was starting to buzz, to come to life and leap with the usual current.

A figure stepped in front of Jimin’s line of vision, appearing from nowhere it seemed. A gasp tore through his lips at the sudden appearance, not even a hundred feet away. It was in the shape of a man, lean and lanky but with well built legs that suggested he wasn’t to be underestimated. He was clothed in black, a cruel smirk on his face as his dark eyes locked on Jimin, who froze.

The footsteps behind him froze too.

“Don’t… talk to strangers? Try and stay with a group, k?” J-Hope’s voice rang through Jimin’s head as his breathing became erratic. The buzz in his ears was getting stronger, hands beginning to tremble.

Casting a fearful glance over his shoulder, Jimin’s eyes widened at the sight of the man from the beach the other day, wearing the same outfit and the lighter still clutched loosely in his hands as he twirled it easily, the smirk on his face widening.

“Hello, Electric Boy,” the man greeted, in Korean, but the accent was definitely not korean. It was american. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Jimin jerked his eyes towards the second male, who had stepped closer and had his head tilted to the side. “I see you remember me.”

Without thinking, Jimin ran. Legs burning, lungs clenching in his chest, Jimin darted past the freak with the lighter, eyes locked on the passage behind one of the small stores that he knew left back behind a bakery that had a back door which led straight back around to the street.

His vision was tunneling as his boots slapped against the street, the sound of the lighter flicking open and their shouts echoing in his ears but didn’t stop. His hands were hot, the purple streaks of lightening buzzing around as he slipped into the passage, eyes locked on the door.

Gripping the knob, electricity burst into the cold metal, making the wood of the door snap and splinter. Jimin yelped in surprise, jerking his hand back as the door caught on fire, chest heaving.

“Get him!” Light Man shouted, appearing around the corner. Jimin got one glance at the man before he kicked the door down and burst into the bakery. It was completely dark inside, except for the light of the dying flame on the door as he glanced around the tables, to the many counters that were lining the walls, devoid of it's usual treats.

Stairs to the back were nestled in the very back corner of the bakery, near the emergency exit on the side and the front of the bakery. Jimin’s chest was moving up and down, body shaking with panicked energy and hands still hot to the touch from what happened earlier as he scrambled further into the bakery.

Eyes locked on the emergency exit, his legs ached and threatened to buckle beneath him as he ran at full speed towards the door, shoving the table and ignoring the way a couple chairs hit his ankles when suddenly, the other man was there.

Poof.

Just standing right there in front of the door with that smirk on his face and eyes wild with a craze. Jimin skidded to a stop, panting and swearing with confusion on the fuck that guy got there when heat singed his hair.

A yelp tore through his throat as the heat nearly scorched his face as his legs buckled and he collapsed to the floor. He barely managed to look up in time and see flames spreading across the bakery, like it was possessed by some demon.

Eyes wide with terror and body shaking, he craned his head and saw Lighter Guy was laughing, his right hand lazily waving through the air as his eyes followed the flames that seemed to be obeying the motions of his hand, the lighter flicked on, the small flame dancing, ready to be used.

Heat was breaking out across his skin, the flames crackling and buzzing. Wood was groaning from the flames. Jimin’s buzzing was getting worse. He was terrified. He felt like a baby deer caught in a open field.

The flames were circling around them, dancing and shifting it’s orange waves as Jimin unsteadily got to his feet, touching his ear that could still feel the heat as he glanced between the two men, who were still fucking smirking.

“W-who are you p-people?” Jimin croaked, coughing heavily as the smoke burned at his lungs, singing his nose with each breathe and made his eyes water. They merely laughed, the Lighter Guy waving his hand over the lighter as the flame rose with it, following the motion as he aimed the ball of flames at Jimin.

“Hey, fucktards!” A voice called. All three turned, the smoke causing a moment of confusion as it clouded the area around the emergency exit. Jimin narrowed his watery eyes, heart racing a mile a minute and his skin nearly unbearable tingly as he stared in shock at what he saw.

A kid, probably the same age as his little brother, was standing near the doorway, another male next to him who seemed older, around the same age as Jimin himself. The kid had raven black hair, bangs pushed to the side to expose his forehead and had piercings lining his ears.

His features were delicate and his dark eyes locked on the two whose faces scrunched with raw rage as they caught sight with who they were dealing with. The kid was wearing a black tee that stretched over his slightly lanky form, his jeans tight and timberland's tied.

The boy next to him was taller, his hair a lilac color and fluffy, like he didn’t bother to do anything with it and wore black jeans, a white shirt, and a grey sweater, his dark brown eyes on Jimin in concern. He had broad shoulders, pierced ears, and full lips.

“Well, if it ain’t the brat and his pet,” Lighter Guy snapped, hand clenching as the flame grew larger, cracking and becoming hotter. Jimin wondered if he had completely lost all sense of sanity, if the electricity that seemed to follow him around finally burnt all his brain cells as the black hair kid sneered.

“Tae,” the kid barked. The lilac haired one nodded his head and suddenly a large dog, German Shepard if Jimin’s hazy mind thought about it, appeared next to the lilac. The dog was snarling, crouching low as long fingers played with his fur as full lips moved.

“Fuck,” the one shouted, disappearing from where he was near the staircase and reappearing near the black haired kid. The kid ducked when a arm shout out to throw a punch, grabbing it and twisting it back as the dog leapt towards the Lighter Guy, dodging the flame that was thrown at it.

“Over here!” The lilac haired one shouted. Jimin’s limbs moved on his own, shaky legs and lungs burning as he ran towards them, the black haired kid disappearing and reappearing somewhere else as they fought hand-to-hand combat. “Soonshim!”

The dog barked loudly, teeth locked in the cloth of the hoodie as the lighter fell from his hands, the groaning of the flames getting worse Jimin practically ran into the lilac haired one, bursting out into the street and tumbling to the ground.

A hiss escaped when concrete tore at the skin on Jimin’s hands, mind running as fast as his beating heart and his breaths coming out raspy and ragged through his aching throat and felt the sting of pain as his palms were cut open.

Jimin’s vision shifted in and out, white spots reflecting his vision while his head spun and his stomach was twisted. Everything felt wrong, nausea crawling up his throat as he shook and trembled.

He felt hands grip at his shirt and jacket, tangles of voices screaming at him. Jimin tried to focus his vision, tried to hear past the buzzing in his ears and how his skin crackled, but the two faces were nothing but blurs and the voices jumbled.

Everything felt wrong. He could still feel the heat of the flames, could still see the cruel smirk of their twisted faces as they cornered him. Everything was a mess, his thoughts curdling like sour milk in his jumbled, exhausted mind. He couldn’t make sense of what was happening.

A part of him knew his body was shutting down. He knew that he was losing himself to the panic and the pain, and a part of him was going willingly. He was sinking into the cold darkness that was swallowing him whole.

Jimin wanted this to all be a bad dream. For him to wake up curled up in his bed, groaning about the early hour and how late he stayed up, and then to hear the endless complaints from his brother as they rushed through the house like maniacs.

The screams of the lilac haired and the dark haired boy were echoing through his head, which was rolling to the side as he stared absently up at the sly with his blurry vision, feeling the way they were trying to bring him back, but he didn’t want to be brought back.

The last thing he remembered was the feeling of weightlessness, the jostling, and soft hands before he was out.

Chapter Text

“-ou hear me?”

Voices penetrated his conscious, tearing Jimin away from the darkness that was clinging to him like a warm blanket. The voice was smooth, gentle and light, so it was kinda relaxing. It also was young, a voice of someone still growing into their voice

“Can you hear me? Shit, please wake up,” the voice continued, concern oozing from the easy lilt. Jimin moaned, his entire body sore and his muscles tight. His throat felt as if someone stuffed a hot iron down it and ran it ragged.

“He moved.” A new voice piped up. This one was lower pitched, but still smooth and gentle, but deep and baritone-like. It was like velvet in a way and it was oddly a little familiar. Jimin moaned when something warm, a little bit hard but still soft, moved from under his head. “And he makes noises.”

“You are not funny,” the lighter lilting voice replied. Hands were brushing at the sweaty hair on his forehead, the sound of humming like a car also bringing Jimin back. It was then he took in everything all at once.

The scent of smoke still lingered in the air, but he had a feeling that was more from him than anything, and it was mixed with cologne, musk of males, and fruity scents. Jimin’s head was propped up by a thigh, clad in black jeans, and his legs were draped over smaller legs, also clad in black jeans.

The car was on the larger side, he could tell by the sound of the whistling wind past the car, and how he was able to stretch out his body across the two laps where a set of hands were resting across his boots, fidgeting a bit, and another set on his hand and clutching his hand.

“Wh-where am…. I?” Jimin rasped, his voice making him flinch at the way it crackled worse then the flames that scorched at his ear. And like that, all the events came rushing back to him.

The street dance, the Lighter Guy, and the bakery being set on fire- controlled by the lighter guy. He remembered the two kids that came into the bakery and saved him. He remembered trying to stay awake but passing out anyway.

Jimin’s eyes flew open as he sat up, the panic slamming full force into his chest and stealing his breath. He felt the way his skin was beginning to spark to life as the terror clamped down around his heart, squeezing it painfully.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” The light voice shouted, gaining Jimin’s attention as his head swerved to the right, where his legs were draped over the kid from the bakery. His large doe-like eyes were large, nose wiggling, and soot was coating his features. He had his hands up, probably in surrender. “Easy! And uh… mind toning down the electricity?”

Jimin blinked once. Twice. The confusion was still pooling in his belly as he looked down at his hands and saw the purple lightening sizzling between his fingers. Gasping, he shoved his sleeves down and hid his hands with it.

Breathing uneven, he looked around, blinking his eyes wildly. The lilac haired kid was sitting up, his smile large and in the shape of a rectangle as he gave a little wave. His lap was where Jimin had been resting his head and his lilac hair and face also had soot covering him.

In the front of the car, in the driver's side, was none other than J-Hope. His odd hair was covered by a hat, his clothes still the simple jeans and tee, and a that bright smile still on his face, but worry was also furrowed between his brows as he met Jimin’s huge eyes in the mirror.

“What… it’s you!” Jimin shouted, staring at the male's eyes. J-Hope gave a smile in the mirror, nodding his head a little in conformation. Jimin peeled his eyes away from J-Hope and looked out the window where the city lights were disappearing. His body went cold. “What’s… going on?”

“Hobi, how is he feeling? He isn’t looking so good,” the black haired kid spoke up, eyeing Jimin with his bottom lip between his two front teeth that reminded the older of a bunny.

Jimin felt like he was going to be sick. Tears were prickling at his eyes, the familiar feeling of lack of breath clutching at his throat as he fought to breathe in. He wasn’t going to deny it. He was fucking terrified.

The car felt too tight. Too enclosed. His breathing was ragged as he stared blankly in front of him as his stomach crawled and squirmed, skin burning. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know how he got here or how the fuck these people found him.

“Shit, he’s having a panic attack!” Bunny Teeth shouted, eyes widening. “Hobi, do something!”

Jimin fought for breath. His mind was screaming, his hands shaking. He numbly reached for the handle of the car. He wanted out. He needed to get away. Where was his brother? Where was his best friend?

Fuck, where was his damn dad?

“Soonshim,” the deep baritone, which Jimin now knew belonged to the lilac haired boy, called and the german shepherd from earlier poked his head from the back seat of the dark hummer. “Comfort him.”

A wet nose brushed against his sweater pawed hands startling him as he met the brown eyed gaze of the white german shepard, the large dog adjusting his body across the lilac’s lap as he rested his head against Jimin.

Without thinking about it, he sunk his hands in the white fur, closing his eyes and placing his sweaty forehead against the dog, breathing in the musky, smoky scent that clung to his fur and listened to the dog's heartbeat, slowly feeling the panic ebbing away.

A comforting hand was rubbing his back, not really speaking, and Jimin wouldn’t lie and say it was comforting. The touch was soft and gentle, treating him like they were old friends as the dog rested himself against him.

“He feels a bit better,” J-Hope suddenly announced from the front seat, turning right onto a dirt road. Jimin wanted to question how the fuck he knew, but didn’t really feel like talking, so he kept his mouth shut as the ride got a bit bumpier. “Listen, I know this must be confusing and scary, and I’m sorry, but I am not really sure how to, uh, explain it to you.”

Jimin only nodded, closing his eyes and blocking everything out. He didn’t know what else to do. His mind felt frozen, body exhausted, sweaty, and outdone. He just squeezed his eyes closed and willed it all away.

“Please… don’t feel like that. I promise that we aren’t going to hurt you,” J-Hope spoke up again. Jimin peeled open an eye, lifting his head from the dog, Soonshim his tired mind had gathered, and met dark eyes in the mirror. “What’s… what is your name?”

“Why do you wanna know?” Jimin asked dully, lowering his head back to Soonshim and stroking the course fur. The hand that was on his back never stopped it’s comforting circles, but finally paused.

“Well… I’m Kim Taehyung. But you can call me Tae!” The lilac greeted. Jimin hummed, but didn’t really compute. Tae didn’t seem to mind, just resumed his calming strokes on his back. “Mr. Quiet next to you is Jungkook.”

“‘Sup,” he greeted, offering a little smile when Jimin lifted his eyes. The smile was cute. It made his eyes crinkle and nose to scrunch as it showed his bunny teeth off. The kid was cute, but it made his chest constrict painfully because it reminded him of Jihyun.

“And this adorable thing you are cuddling is Soonshim,” Tae continued. Jimin sniffled, feeling the familiar sting of tears as he closed his eyes. J-Hope looked in the mirror, looking like he was about to cry as well as the car was thrown into park.

“I want to go home. Take me home,” Jimin ordered, not bothering to look up from the dog as his fingers tangled further in the white fur. Soonshim didn’t seem to mind, but J-Hope let out a tired sigh.

“I… can’t do that. Listen, do you remember what happened back there? How you were attacked? Do you remember that?” He asked firmly. Jimin flinched, the fear returning when he remembered the heat, the smirks, and the cornered feeling. “You have every right to be afraid. I get it. I would be terrified too. But, listen, I swear to you on my life, we will not harm you. We are here to help you. So, please, come inside with us and we will explain.”

Jimin wanted to scream. To tell them hell no and run away. He wanted to run from so much. But the pain in his muscles wasn’t lessening and he knew he was more likely to collapse from exhaustion then actually go anyway.

And… they seem to know about what the fuck is going on, his subconscious spoke up. He also wanted to kick his own thoughts for that, but even his tired mind had picked up on the odd things.

The way Taehyung didn’t seem to care about his odd… problem. Or how they saw what had happened in the bakery and how they handled it. They seemed to be familiar with the freak show that had become Jimin’s life.

Instead, he watched with tired, defeated eyes as J-Hope climbed out of the car, Tae and Jungkook doing the same with even the dog following after the lilac hair as he stood with the door open, boxy smile friendly, and was just patient.

Jungkook closed the door, hands in his pockets as he drifted towards the front of the car where J-Hope was waiting, watching Jimin through the windshield. Behind them stood a house. It wasn’t overly huge nor was it showy, but classy. Comfortable.

It was a wooden house, the paint a simple beige that matched the trees and pine, looking more forested than like the beach town they were just outside. It had a porch, complete with a swing and the yard clipped.

The door was wood and glass, looking more fancy than anything else outside, and lights lit up the warm house. It was warmer than his own house, which had the tendency to be cold and vacant whenever his brother or him were out.
It looked to be about two stories and not at all like a kidnapper's house, but then again, not many in the movies did either.

For a moment, Jimin felt like being childish and just remaining out in the car till they took him home. He wanted his brother. He wanted his cold house and barely made dinners that usually consisted of the brothers begging Baek to bring them something or scrunching for whatever they could find.

If they were lucky they could get instant noodles.

He wanted his brother to just waltz in his room as he was working on homework and let him lie on his back as he studied and Jihyun played on his phone. He wanted his bathroom. He wanted his clothes.

He fucking wanted to go home and end this nightmare.

Sighing under his breathe, shoving aside the desire to curl into a ball and cry again, he pushed his tired body up and managed to put his feet on the ground. He stumbled a mumble, vertigo hitting him that caused him to stumble, but Tae grabbed his arm and steadied him.

“He’s just exhausted. He seems to be emotionally drained right now. I can’t pick up too much. Tae, you don’t have to be so concerned,” J-Hope spoke up, smiling a little towards Jimin, who frowned. Why did this guy always seem to speak about how he was feeling?

“Hyung, stop reading me already! I’m gonna be concerned,” Tae defended and huffed, turning back towards Jimin with his body grin. “Take an easy, okay? One step at a time.”

“I don’t need your help,” Jimin muttered, pulling his arm out of Tae’s grasp. Tae blinked a moment before nodding his head slowly, that smile wavering a bit. Jimin turned his eyes away and kept them locked on the ground. What did they want him to say? Thanks? For what? Kidnapping him?

They saved you too, Jimin’s mind reminded him. He breathed harshly through his nose, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything as the three boys lead the way up the porch and opening the door.

“We’re back!” J-Hope cried as soon as he entered, a relieved smile on his face as he kicked off his shoes and hurried into the foyer. Jungkook smiled to, removing his shoes a bit slower as he glanced back at Tae and Jimin.

Jimin drifted in a bit more awkwardly, his nose immediately being swamped by the scent of rich seasonings, chicken, and something garlic that sent his stomach into growling mode. Embarrassed, he clutched his stomach as he stared wide eyed at Tae’s amused face and Jungkook’s smirk.

“Looks like we aren’t the only ones hungry,” Jungkook teased, revealing that bunny smile again. Cheeks hot, he backed up towards the arch to try and leave the good smelling house, but Tae grabbed his hand and tugged him back.

“Don’t worry. Mama Jin won’t let you go hungry!” Tae promised, tugging him once more. Jimin looked back at the ground, unsure. The desire to go home was still burning strong. These people were strangers. They kidnapped him. Why in the hell were they being so civil?

“You’re back?” A voice called from further in the house, startling Jimin. Hobi turned towards the voice, cracking up his usual bright smile as clanging was heard, pots probably, before the sound of scurrying. “Did you get him? Is he safe? Is he a Spark like you said?” The voice question in a flurry.

Jimin bit harder in the inside of his cheek as J-Hope, who Jimin now realized was called ‘Hobi’ here, laughed lightly and nodded, but there was a sadness aura around him. “We got him. Just in time too. The Hounds sniffed him out and would have had him if I hadn’t been watching him.”

Jungkook smirked, closing the front door after Soonshim slips his way in, paws clacking across the hardwood floors as he drifted past Tae and Jungkook and further to the back of the house.

“He’s a Spark alright,” Jungkook spoke up, gaining the attention of Hobi and the other male as he left Tae’s side to join the three of them. “He’s a Empower. Hobi wasn’t just over exaggerating at all.”

Jimin was scowling heavily. It was bad enough he was in some stranger's house, but he hated being talked about like he wasn’t just standing right here. The foyer was nice, a simple open space that had a coat rack and a shoe rack, that was littered with different pairs of shoes of all kinds, scarfs, coats, and jackets barely hanging on the rack, a mess of how many coats can be on one hook.

The walls were a burgundy color, adding a warm, homey feel and the decor was nothing extravagant and looked mostly homemade. The foyer branched off in two directions, one towards a dark hall that looked dark and carpeted, the other leading to a stairs directly to the right and past that, a living room with mismatched couches, chairs, random blankets and pillows, plus a TV covered with games, a WII controller, XBox, and movies lining the walls with a fireplace.

Pictures were lining the walls, dates and names scrawled on the side in neat scripture and Jimin found it odd. It was something so motherly and out of place, but it was sweet and he wouldn’t lie, he was curious.

“Hounds? He was attacked by Hounds?” The new male raged, a dangerous tone welled in his tone. The light tone the male was using earlier was gone, replaced by something protective and it scared Jimin a little. He found himself stepping backwards, back hitting the door.

“Yep. The American Igniter, Jamison, and his korean buddy Daesuk, the Leaper,” Hobi admitted, a lot quieter than before. “It was a close call. I barely even realized nothing was wrong till the kid started emitting some pretty terrified feelings. They must have seen what he did at the store. I can’t think if any other way they knew about him.”

He was following me?

The new male sighed and rubbed his temple, shaking his head as he turned to Tae and Jungkook. He gave a fond smile as he looked them over, as if looking for damage, and when seeing none gestured with his chin towards the kitchen.

“Set the table for me, Kookie. Tae, can you fetch Joonie and Yoons? Hobi, handle the food,” the male said, looking at each of the males. Jimin kept his gaze locked on the floor, willing himself away and picturing Jihyun, imaging his voice, and wondering if he was asleep. He should be. It’s a school night.

Will he worry when Jimin doesn’t return? The thought was troubling. He knew that at least Baek will have some breakfast for him in the morning. The desire to call him was strong, but he already knew by the empty feeling of his pockets was enough to know
he didn’t have his phone.

Did it fall out? Did one of them steal it? It would make sense for them too. He could call the police, like his fingers were itching too, but more than anything, he wanted to sleep. Preferably on his own bed, with Jihyun’s room nearby.
Jihyun, if my prayers can reach anyone, just know I’m okay…

“Is Jihyun your brother?” The new voice asked. Jimin startled, a squeak erupting from his lips as he stared at the new male in front of him. His back hit the door again, eyes blown wide.

He was handsome, and Jimin was beginning to wonder if that was a part of this nightmare. Were all the guys going to be incredibly handsome? If so, he wanted to wake up. Badly.

This male had dyed blond hair, a gentle, almost motherly smile on his face and a lean, angelic features. There was something almost feminine about him, but not quite. He had broad shoulders, really broad, that made his small shoulders feel a little insignificant.

The male flinched when he realized he scared Jimin and offered a apologetic smile, straightening to his full height- yet another thing that annoyed him- and bowed his head. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Kim Seokjin. You can call me Jin.”

Did he… just ask about Jihyun? But how would he know about him?

Jimin watched as an embarrassed blush crosses over the male’s high cheekbones and he laughed a little. “We are so doing this all wrong, aren’t we? I’m really sorry. We are making a horrible impression. I would be confused too. Tell you what, just come eat dinner, you're hungry, and then a nice hot bath and off to bed? We can talk more serious matters tomorrow morning.”

“No. I don’t want your food. I don’t want your bath. I don’t want introductions. I want to go home and for this nightmare to end. For this entire freak show to end,” Jimin snapped, officially reaching his limits on what he can take. His mind was scrambled, his heart worn out, and his stomach empty and he just felt so unlike himself.

His normally cheery attitude has really been hitting the limits lately and he hates it. Why can’t he go back to normal? Or well, as normal as life can be for someone like him. All he knew was he didn’t want to meet new people. He didn’t want this.

Jin nibbled on his lip, eyes downcast and looking like he was at a loss for words. Jimin scoffed and rubbed a hand over his head, trying to get rid of the headache that was forming there. HIs throat was still sore, and his breathing had remnants of the smoke inhalation.

“You… don’t know anything about what's going on do you?” Jin asked suddenly, raising his head to look Jimin over in worry. The uneasy feeling returned to his stomach, letting his skin ignite with the familiar energy. “Do you even know how special you are?”

“Special?” Jimin frowned. “No. I don’t know what's going on. I have no fucking clue why any of this shit is happening to me and I would very much like to know if you have any clue. As for the special part of me, the only thing that's ‘special’ is my mouth.”
Jin cursed under his breath, barely audible, and it took Jimin by surprise when the male ran a hand through his hair and fluffed it out of place, but sadly, he still looked really. Good.

“Well…. Now your thoughts make more sense,” Jin muttered with another heavy sigh. Jimin normally would question the bizarre sentence, but he didn’t even bother. His mind was worn out at this point. “Geez… no wonder you aren’t doing too well. Alright, okay, I’ll try and explain everything over dinner. Please, can I least know your name?”

Jimin hesitated. Why should he give this man his name? Then again, he had nothing else to lose and the man already gave his name, so why not fall off the deep end? There was nothing to do it seemed.

Heaving the thousandth sigh for that night, he lowered his head and clenched his hands in his sleeves, keeping their heat there. “It’s Jimin. Park Jimin.” Jin broke out into a huge smile and held out his hand.

“Welcome to our home, Jimin.”

Jimin didn’t bother to to answer, eyes back on the ground, letting his thoughts drift back to where his phone might be, and how he can contact his brother. He already knew his dad probably wouldn’t notice his absence unless he needed something or Jihyun said something.

But what was really troubling was his brother. He was going to be worried sick. The thought made the hunger that was lingering in his stomach to dissipate as anxiety returned.

“After dinner and we explain everything, you can call them. I’ll let you use our phone,” Jin said quietly, face unreadable. Jimin’s eyes jerked up, similar to large fish bowls with how wide they are. “You aren’t a hostage or a prisoner here. We are only trying to help. Food now?”

Jimin trailed behind, shoes now removed, behind the taller, older male who looked to be in his early twenties, towards the living room which also happened to be connected to a very nice kitchen where the scent was coming from.

The stove was stainless steel and so was the refrigerator. The fridge had little magnets, pictures with the magnets and other little things alike. The counters were a little messy, a cutting board with some vegetables still lingering and a pan where the garlic was coming from left on the stove.

It was a simple set up. The counters were a nice granite, lined with a coffee machine that looked well loved and the cabinets white with sterling silver knobs. The sink and oven were a double, cleaned down and pristine.

Jimin liked it. It was nice.

Past the kitchen was another archway, leading to the dining room which had a oak table, set up with mismatched plastic colored plates, equally tacky plastic cups of random colors and metal- thank god- silverware.

A garlic roasted chicken was sitting on the table, also on plastic, along with mashed potatoes, garlic green beans, and mixed vegetables and rice. People stood around, talking quietly amongst themselves. A part of Jimin wondered why the food was undoubtedly american, but decided against asking since he didn't really care and was partly afraid for the answer.

Tae and Jungkook were on the dark right, hands clasped in one another's, faces cleared of soot, and their smiles large as they talked to Hobi, who sat at the end of the table that was facing the wall.

The other person was new as well. He was tall, had dyed silver hair with shaved sides and his smile was dorky with dimples. Like the others, he was very good looking with a great build and wider face, but his smile and kind eyes made up for it.

As soon as Jin and Jimin entered the room, the talking stopped as Jin left Jimin’s side to join the tall silver haired male and took his hand, standing a little too close for it to be plantionic.

“Jimin, this is my husband Namjoon, Namjoon this is the… new kid… Jimin. Jimin, I am sure you know Tae,” Taehyung waved excitedly and greeted him, looking excited to finally know his name. Jimin awkwardly smiled back. “Hoseok, or Hobi, and of course Jungkook, our youngest.” Jin’s brow furrowed as he eyed an empty chair where a plate was waiting. “Where is Yoongi?”

“Calm your balls, Jin, I’m right here,” a grouchy voice spoke up from behind Jimin, startling the raven haired male as he stepped around with a loud gasp. The male behind him arched a brow, brushing past him. “That must be the newbie.”

You have got to be kidding me, Jimin thought as he licked his dry lips as he examined the male. He was smaller, almost matching Jimin in small stature, and had almost white hair with dark eyes that was mixed with smooth, pale skin that had Jimin questioning his heritage.

Yoongi had small shoulders, lanky build, and pleasant features. He looked fragile almost, being so pale and thin, but the expression on his ethereal features was anything but. Jimin didn’t know why, but he found him to be the most beautiful. Maybe it was his skin, his build, or just him, but he was… stunning.

Seriously, what the fuck? I am surrounded by gods and then there's me. Awkward, kidnapped potato, Jimin thought bitterly as he looked around at the table at all the people. Jin abruptly burst into laughter, a odd mix of dying seal lion and drowning cat as he clapped his hands- once again bringing back the seal lion- and Jimin blinked, turning to look at him wearily.

Everyone else didn’t seem bothered. If anything, they seemed use to it.

Jin straightened, his laugh falling off as he sent a glare to the smirking Yoongi, who had taken his seat and was already piling his plate with chicken. Jin pointed a finger towards him.

“Watch it, Yoongi.” Yoongi’s smirk only broadened while Jin made a sound in the back of his throat and turned back to Jimin and gestured to the table. “Go ahead and take a seat. Namjoon here will… try and explain everything.”

“Can we start with why we are eating dinner at midnight? And why it's american?” Jimin muttered, obediently taking his seat next to the fair smirking god next to him and stared at his plate. Yoongi gave a small snicker and looked up.

“Oh, the kids funny,” Yoongi said absently.

“I’m not a kid. I’m almost eighteen, for your information,” Jimin snapped, taking some vegetables, chicken, and potatoes. The white haired male shrugged, not really bothered as he picked up his chopsticks and ate.

“We had postponed dinner since Hobi was running recon on you,” Namjoon replied after a few moments of tense silence filled with sounds of chewing, quiet asking for food, and shifting eyes. “Plus, Jin was out late anyway. He cooks everything. I’m banned from the kitchen. As for why it's american, Jin found some recipes online and has been going on this 'american-styled home-cooked meal' thing.”

Jimin didn’t really know how to answer that, so he didn’t. He wordlessly put food in his mouth and chewed, but he didn’t taste anything. He wasn’t sure this was real or not, and at this point he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Everyone at the table seemed familiar and comfortable with each other, Tae being bold and reaching over to Jungkook’s plate and stealing some rice every now and then while Hobi was rolling his eyes and trying to steal from Tae, which didn’t work most of the time.

There was so many questions in his mind, rolling around like toxins, numbing him. He wasn’t even sure where to begin. It was like all the questions were keeping his mouth shut and locked, unable to budge or form a true sentence.

Namjoon was the first to break the silence.

“Jimin,” he said, gaining everyone's attention. Jimin lifted his eyes from his mostly empty plate to meet his gaze, not letting it waver. “Are you aware of what a Spark is?” Jimin hesitated before shaking his head. “Did your parents ever tell you about it? About what you are?”

“Are you on drugs?” Jimin blurted, unable to stop himself. Namjoon looked taken aback, eyes widening before narrowing a tad. Jimin sighed. “What kind of shit are you trying to tell me? I really don’t have time for games.”

“This isn’t a game. You are something called a Spark, a human who's able to use a percentage of their brain that others cannot,” Namjoon replied hurriedly, chopsticks forgotten as he spoke firmly. “You are able to access a part of your brain in the back of your parietal lobe and fragments of other parts that other humans cannot.”

Jimin wasn’t sure if he should be terrified or laugh. He didn’t know what to make of this or how to answer, so he opted for staying silent.

“Jimin, you are a Spark. I’m a Spark. Everyone at this table is a Spark,” Hobi said quietly, setting down his own chopsticks as he gave that bright smile. Denial was building in his throat, threatening to burst out, but Hobi stopped him. “I saw you at the store,
Jimin. I saw what you did. The cash register. The alarms. The lights. I saw it.”

Panic was building in his chest, removing his oxygen from his lungs and he flinched, shaking his head adamantly. He was feeling cornered again, skin prickling with that heat, the buzz starting in his ears as he hid his hands in his sleeves.

No… no, no, no, no! This cannot be happening.

“I d-don’t know w-what you are t-talking about,” Jimin wheezed out shakily, keeping his hands clasped tightly in his lap. He felt them shake, the heat dancing between his fingers. Blood was buzzing.

“Yes. Yes you do. Jimin, in that bakery, I know you saw it. I felt your terror, your confusion. You saw what Jamison did with the flames. You saw how Daesuk was suddenly in front of you,” Hobi continued. Jimin was shaking, staring wide eyed at the male while his body hummed with power, wanting to over spill.

Run. I have to get out of here…

Jimin got to his feet, the buzzing getting louder in his ears. Hobi was watching with sad eyes, the smile gone from his face while Tae was staring at his plate, picking at his food absently. Yoongi looked bored, brows raised and head back. Jungkook looked torn and weary, eyes locked on Jimin’s hands.

“Y-you’re all crazy. I a-am not a s-spark or whatever,” Jimin rasped, backing away from the table, shaking his head. He tried to focus on Baek’s voice in his head telling him to calm down, breathe in and out, in and out, as he wave of dizziness washed over him.

“It started when you were eleven, twelve, right?” Namjoon spoke up, smiling sadly as Jimin’s gaze snapped back to the silver haired male, clutching his hands in front of him to try and keep them steady. “Started small. Barely noticeable. But then it got worse. And worse. You know what I am talking about, don’t you?”

“H-how did you know that?”

“That’s how it all started. Small and then grew,” Namjoon admitted, smiling gently again. He stood slowly, trying to not scare the boy anymore as he gestured back towards the chair. “Jimin, please, sit down. You are safe here. We promise. Let us explain. We can even prove it.”

The raven haired boy let the thought dance in his mind, bouncing back and forth on what he thought about. His hands were still humming, the cursed energy he always felt ready, but the panic was ebbing away.

Curiosity was replacing it. The dangerous thing that always got him trouble. Licking his dry lips, he found his stiff legs bringing him back to the table and lowering him back down. The table seemed to exhale in relief as Jimin kept his gaze locked on Namjoon. He wanted to ignore everyone else right now.

He had to keep himself calm.

“Alright. I’ll bite. What exactly is a... a spark?” Jimin breathed. Namjoon and Jin exchanged a glance, looking relieved that he had settled. Jimin kept his hands on the wooden table, small fingers playing with his sleeves as he focused on the hum of his blood.

“Well, there is an old myth that humans only use approximately 10% of their brain, which is false, but not completely wrong,” Namjoon started, speaking slowly, each of his words being accented and analyzed as he talks. Jimin kept his gaze locked on the table. He couldn’t look at anyone. “Humans use their brain to the fullest, but Sparks not only use their brain to the fullest, we evolve with it. Which is why Sparks have a unique ability that they wield, all starting from their mind. For example, Hobi is an Empath. He holds the ability to feel whatever emotion you are feeling.”

The silence around the table was growing colder, the air icy, as the raven haired male cut his eyes towards the other male, who gave a large smile, as if waiting for Jimin to say something. His tongue felt heavy, laden with lead and unable to move within his dry mouth.

“Because of a Spark’s… unique ability and because there is a few theories that we are the evolved version of humans, the military has taken quite a likening to us,” Jin spoke up, a bitter smile crossing his handsome features, pinching around his almond eyes.
“It should be unsurprising, but still. They are curious on how much power a Spark can wield and wishes to expose what we are and what exactly we can do.”

Yoongi was animate next to Jimin, his dark eyes gleaming with a fierce coldness while his soft lips were tugged into a scowl. His shoulders were tense, head clocked to the side as glared at Jin.

“Don’t bullshit him, Seokjin,” Yoongi growled, his usually deep, raspy voice a few octaves lower and laced with bitterness. Jin raised his head to meet the smaller males, expression unreadable. “It isn’t just the military, but other factions of Sparks. Others of our own kind that want to be known in the world, gathering themselves because they believe that are better than normal humans.”

Jimin’s brow furrowed at the information, lip carefully wedged between his teeth as he ravaged at the skin while his mind spun with the bouts of information that was being thrown at him, along with the itch that was almost unbearable.

One part of him was relieved. The deep access of his mind, he wanted to start crying in relief because he wasn’t just a ‘freak’ anymore. He knew what was happening, why his… body betrayed him and had others around that seemed to understand.

But the other half of him, the bigger half of him, was laughing. Every emotion from disbelief, irritation, and confusion. He couldn’t pull his emotions from each other as they slammed into him over and over.

It was too insane. He wasn’t anything special. There was nothing extraordinary about him. He was fat, ugly, and small. He had to study for hours to get an A on a test and would never make his father happy. The only good thing about him was he could dance.

The idea of him being a Spark or whatever was insane. He could barely do anything right. He made the entire computer lab burst into flames being he saw his boyfriend cheat on him. He made the cash register explode. He was worthless.

Now, he was attacked in the street, nearly got burned by a guy, saw a guy be in one place then another, was rescued, and now brought to a house that could make Oprah jealous and welcomed by a bunch of handsome men who are telling him he’s special.

Yeah, special needs at this point.

Jin’s face mottled red, the skidding of his chair grating on everyone's ears as it tumbled back with a clatter. Jimin jumped, eyes wide as he stared ta Jin in surprise as he leaned over, mouth pinched and eyes sad.

“Why do you keep downing yourself? Can you really not see it at all?” Jin asked, voice borderline yelling. Jimin gaped, mouth opening and closing but no escaped. “You are not special needs, you are not insane. I know, it seems utterly crazy. I was in your shoes once too, but you are not fat, or ugly. You are not insane. You aren’t worthless.”

“The fuck?” Jimin hissed, getting to his own feet as he felt his walls go up, the energy in his blood sparking and tingling. Yoongi sighed and looked wearily between the two of them. “How in the hell did you…?”

“I’m a Telepath. I can hear your passing thoughts,” Jin explained casually, like he didn’t just admit to the fact he had been listening in to all of his private thoughts since he fucking got here. “Well, technically no. When you first got in here you were too emotional and I couldn’t read much but jumbles and excerpts. I also can’t go digging in your head. It’s really just kinda whatever you think at the time, I hear.”

“If that is supposed to be reassuring, Jinie, it isn’t,” Yoongi added, pushing his plastic plate away and lying his head on his arms. Jin made a mewling sound in the back of his throat, sighing, but didn’t say anything.

“You’ve been reading my thoughts?” Jimin said slowly, wanting to clarify. Jin hesitated before nodding. A laugh ripped through his throat, making it’s way past his lips. He couldn’t stop himself. It was hilarious. “What’s next? Someone talks to animals?”

“Yeah, actually,” Tae piped up, that boxy grin replacing his features as he all but bounced in his seat. Jimin’s laugh fell silent as he stared at the lilac haired male who was beaming. “I have the ability to understand, and persuade, animals. I can hear them too, but I am not a telepath like Jin.”

“Guys, I think we officially suck at welcoming new people,” Jungkook muttered from his place, taking a slow bite of his chicken and sipping at his water nervously when Jimin remained utterly silent for a few moments. Namjoon sighed, running a hand through his hair uneasily.

“Look, Jimin, as we were saying. Sparks are currently… in a mini war with themselves. Some believe we are higher powered because of what we can do, others just want to live a normal life as everyone else,” Namjoon continued, deciding to try and go back to explaining. “The military isn’t as big a problem as the other factions, the growing belief that Spark’s should take over. They begin taking Sparks as soon as their power surfaces and trains them to become practically weapons. We do not want that. We want normalcy as much as the next.”

The idea of that wasn’t a complete crazy one. He had read enough comic books and watched enough of the news to know that the human race is greedy and power hungry, so if there was a thing like Sparks, they would certainly leap at the chance.
Nibbling further on his bottom lip, Jimin’s mind was running over his words, piecing together what he could and trying to ignore the way his blood was buzzing still. He was trying to keep his body calm but his mind was still trying to process everything.

“Okay… what does this have to do with me, exactly?” He asked carefully, eyes flicking between Jin and Namjoon. The couple exchanged another look before Jin sighed and leaned forward on the table.

“Well, you are a Spark. And the faction that wants to take over noticed what happened at the store.” Jimin jerked his eyes towards Hobi, who gave an encouraging smile from his end of the table. “Luckily, Hobi was there and also noticed what you were. I have to admit, Jimin, I am impressed you have been able to remain hidden this long.”

“So, those guys who attacked me? They are…?”

“Yes, they were a part of the Iron Clad.” Jimin’s hand clenched but he kept silent. It was better to keep his hurricane of emotions to himself. “Hobi had been following behind you to make sure they didn’t try anything, since you are over the age of twelve, but they did anyway. I’m sorry about that. We really did not mean to kidnap you, Jimin.”

“We took you because we thought you were like us,” Namjoon added after a tense moment of quiet. Tears were building behind Jimin’s eyes, prickling at his already blistering skin. “We didn’t want them to take you. We aren’t taking you hostage, Jimin, but one thing you have to understand, they know about you now, and your power is one that is greatly coveted. They will try and get you to join them, and if you don’t, they might kill you instead.”

Jungkook and Tae exchanged a small glance before they got to their feet and began to gather the dishes as the silence at the table grew. The only sound that could be hard was the plastic being placed on each other and the soft footfalls as the two drift out of the room to start the dishes.

Yoongi kept at the table, eyes closed and chest rising and falling as he kept his head on his arms, looking a bit too comfortable there, while Jin was leaning against Namjoon, eyes downcast.

“So… what do I do?” Jimin breathed out, sagging against the table as all will to keep himself upright vanished, and he joined Yoongi in laying himself across the table. The white haired male gave a little smile, but it didn’t last long.

“You could stay with us,” Jin offered kindly, looking a little excited. “We care for anyone who needs it. If you stay with us, we can help you control your gift, teach you about Spark’s and answer questions while keeping you safe from Iron Clad.”
Jimin closed his eyes, feeling the way his blood mellowed out and he wouldn’t lie, the offer was appealing. If what they were saying was true and he was a Spark, then he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t as much a freak as he thought he was.

But there was something holding him back. Even if he was a Spark, and he was now being hunted by another of these freaks because they wanted to be more powerful, Jimin still had a family. People who needed him.

What would happen to Jihyun? And Baekhee? What would they do without him? Granted, they didn’t need him. He was always just kind of there, but it made his heart shatter in his chest at the thought of not seeing them.

“How about you sleep on it? We can talk more about this tomorrow morning,” Namjoon spoke up, breaking the silence that was lingering like fog through the air and suffocating Jimin. Wordlessly, the raven haired male nodded, sniffling a bit.

A wet nose touched his thigh, startling him a little as he glanced down and saw the white German Shepard, Soonshim, looking up at him with his large brown eyes. Blinking, Jimin looked up at the arch way and saw Tae giving a little smile before he darted out of sight.

Jin helped Jimin up, Soonshim clinging to his side, as Jin lead him past the living room and kitchen, hand nestled in the crook of Jimin’s elbow as Jin lead him up the stairs where a hallway stretched, showing doors on each side, each decorated differently, until he came to one that was blank.

“This is the guest room- er, one of them,” Jin explained, turning the knob and pushing the door open. The room was mostly bare, the walls a easy green and the bed a queen sized with a dresser and a dark pushed into the corner. “It’s nothing major. We always keep the unoccupied rooms bare so people who move in can decorate it on their own. Will this work?”

Soonshim already hopped on the bed, curling himself up on the end of the bed and kept his shaggy head lifted to watch Jimin, who was letting his eyes trail over the room as he aimlessly sat on the edge of the bed.

“Did… you still want to call your brother?”

“And say what exactly?” Jimin laughed bitterly, staring down at his hands, letting his fingers pull up the sleeves to expose them. Jin watched with sad eyes, hands by his side. “That I’m okay, but I don’t even know what is going on anymore? That I am not sure
I can come home and keep pretending that this isn’t happening anymore? That I’m… normal? Please, tell me what to say, because I don’t know anymore.”

Jin bit his lip, looking down at the carpet where his bare feet sunk into the soft fibers. JImin’s thoughts were plaguing his mind, swirling around and tangling with his own but he couldn’t dissect one thought from another. He couldn’t distinguish which thought was worse.

Jimin lifted his hands, staring at them with a blank expression as he waited to see the usual purple lightening that was always skittering over his skin, but for once, there was none. Just his hands, twitching, and tears welling in his eyes.

He might be a telepath, fighting the battle between knowing his own thoughts and attempting to ignore the constant roar that was always shoving his own mind away, but he didn’t know everyone's darkest thoughts. Darkest desires unless they willingly showed it.

That was the problem with being a Spark. Everything was amplified, growing and swelling, crashing against the corners of your mind as he tried to live out your life like you are normal and that you aren’t any different, but a simple sneer of the lips, a tumbling thought brushing against your soul, and one mishap, you are stripped of everything.

Maybe that was why Jin loved this house, loved how he didn’t have to hide here and how his thoughts were safe, even if they were dangerous and felt others, but they knew he heard them. They knew he could read them so easily, and they could read him if they wanted.

The life of a Spark was something he had accepted a long time ago. He will always be different, but he can make normalcy out of the difference that ruled his life. Have a house, help others, and care for each other.

“I’m… really what you say I am?” Jimin murmured, lowering his hands back into his lap, the dark, dull eyes staring at the wall, drifting in and out of seeing and not seeing. Circles were under his eyes, soot still smeared across his chubby cheeks, lips swollen and red from it's abuse, and eyes unbelievably tired.

“Yes. You are.” Jimin nodded, closing his eyes as he pulled himself onto the bed, not bothering to go under the covers as he squeezed his eyes closed. Soonshim stood and lied next to him, keeping his fluffy body pressed against the young male. “Goodnight, Jimin.”

Chapter Text

Jimin felt his mind beginning to drift back to consciousness, tugging and pulling him back to the land of the living. The cotton sheets beneath smelt odd, like detergent and oranges, and itched at his bare skin of his hands as he groaned and shifted.

The warmth of light playing across his face, brightening the darkness behind his eyes, officially tore him from sleep, bringing the attention to the dryness of his mouth, the acidic taste that made his nose scrunch in disgust at the lingering taste of sleep and how his eyes felt crusted and glued over from how he cried himself to sleep.

Peeling open his eyes, they landed on a white ceiling, a white ceiling fan spinning lazily in his line of view as blinked, trying to banish the lingering sleep that was tickling at the edges of his mind.

His tongue was sandpaper, scratching at the roof of his dry, disgusting tasting mouth and he was sure he looked like utter hell. His black hair felt greasy and all over, he knew his liner was smudged across his face, and cheeks puffy from sleep.

Yeah, he knew he looked like shit.

A tongue lapped at his cheek, startling him a bit more as he turned and saw Soonshim, his belly exposed as he laid on his back with his paws up in the air and his tongue now poked out through his lips.

A little smile grew on Jimin’s face, the events of last night slamming back into him as he reached out and rubbed the dog's belly in affection. Soonshim licked and loved on his hand.

“Thank you, Soonshim,” Jimin whispered quietly to the dog, already knowing it was probably wasted, but drew his hand back with a sigh as he pushed himself up and looked around the room.

Light was streaming in through the windows, the blinds not drawn, and on the wooden desk in the corner of the room was a pair of clothes, a bottle of liner, a fluffy grey towel, and a piece of paper.

Groaning a bit, muscles screaming from the remnants of all they went through yesterday, but he ignored it as he stood and slowly made his way to the desk. The clothes looked a little big, the scent of detergent and musk drifting from them, and basing on the size, Jimin imagined they were Yoongi’s clothes.

Flushing red, Jimin cleared his throat as he lifted the note and read the neatly scrawled handwriting that matched the handwriting on the pictures down the hall.

Jimin,
Here are some clothes. The bathroom is down the hall to your right, the door with a red piece of tape on the handle so you won’t get confused. Everything you need will be in there. A new toothbrush has also been set out for you. We will be downstairs when you are done. Hope the clothes fit- you looked pretty close to Yoongi’s size, but call after me if they don’t.
Hope you slept well,
Jin.

A sigh ran through him. He was grateful, a little touched, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure what was going on anymore. If this was a movie, or one of those books he read, the main character would have his moment of whining and crying, then be happy to join him.

But this wasn’t like that. This was his life. This was what he had to live with. And now he was plagued on what he should do. What he needs to do. Sadly, the answer that he keeps coming back to isn’t the one he wants.

Shoving his thoughts away, knowing he could ponder on them later, Jimin grabbed the clothes and wandered towards the door, tucking the clothes under his arm as he cracked open the door and glanced around.

The sound of soft voices coming from downstairs was the only thing that greeted him. Breathing out his relief in a rush of hot air, Jimin slipped his body out of the room and hurried down the hall, mind re-reading over the note.

Sure enough, he saw the red tape and nearly body slammed himself inside. After clicking the lock, Jimin closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, already feeling the way his skin was coming to life, giving it's familiar hum.

Shaking his head, Jimin peeled open his eyes and gasped at the bathroom. It was pearly white with gold trim, a organized layered bag was hooked up on the wall, bathroom products hanging neatly in their respective places next to the mirror that stood over a double sink, the counters clear except orange blossom hand soap and a packaged toothbrush and toothpaste.

The shower was glass, the handle the same gold as the trim, and large enough that it looked like it could fit three of them. It was overly large, had a bench that had different shampoo and conditioner bottles all throughout- about six different kinds- with different tape wrapped around the cap to identify who was whose.

Everything was neat and orderly, but the overlaying scents of the different males made it obvious that this bathroom was shared. Licking his lips, skin tingling for a whole new reason, Jimin stripped down his clothes and turned on the shower.

Once the hot water was blasting, making sure it was as hot as it can go, Jimin rushed in and nearly moaned at the pressure of hot water at his back. It felt good, calming down his buzzing skin and settled it to languidly glide instead of humming.

After a few moments of just letting the water turn his skin red, he focused on what he was supposed to get done. Rubbing his face, skin, and body he worked quickly to get the remaining smell of fire and smoke from his skin and then washed his hair out.

As the water slowly became colder, he turned off the water and sighed. The desire to stay curled up in the hot shower and not face the world was appetizing, but shook off the feeling as he wrapped the towel around his lower abdomen.

Changing quickly, Jimin flushed and shifted uncomfortably when he realized what clothes were laid out. Black ripped jeans that hugged him a little too tightly, black tee that was snug around his shoulders and chest, but worked for the most part, and a hoodie that luckily actually fit and even let him have sweater paws to hide his… problem.

After brushing his teeth, messing with his damp hair, and lining his eyes in liner and ignoring the way his skin was too pasty, nose big, and lips dry and cracked, he tore his eyes away and breathed out slowly.

“Time to face the music, Park Jimin,” he told himself, gathering his clothes and tucking them under his arm before unlocking the bathroom door, stepping out into the empty hallway. At seeing the coast was clear, he made a beeline straight back to the guest room and tossed his clothes on the bed and checked himself in the mirror again. “Ugh… this look is worse than usual.”

Shaking it off, Jimin moved and headed down the stairs where the voices were all talking in the living room. Jimin paused at the end of the stairs, hands gripping the railing as he breathed in and out, trying to no focus on his nerves or the fact his blood was racing again.

“Iron Clad isn’t dumb, and we weren’t exactly hiding the fact that we went to go rescue him,” Jungkook’s smooth voice spoke up, the sound drifting across to Jimin that made him pause further from revealing himself. “They know he is with us, and that should trample their movements a bit.”

“Kookie-ah has a point,” Tae added.

“But the problem still remains- he isn’t like us. His family doesn’t know and hasn’t kicked him out,” Jin reminds them after a moment of dead silence. Jimin felt his heartbeat quicken and his thoughts run wild. “Jimin? You don’t have to be shy. You can come in.”

Fuck. I forgot… Jin can read minds. Has he known I was here the entire time?

“Yes. I did. We aren’t discussing anything that is bad so I didn’t bother saying anything. You needed a moment anyway,” Jin answered his unspoken thoughts. A scowl etched into his face as he gritted his teeth and shook his head. That is going to get very annoying. “I know. But you get used to it.”

Jimin sighed, grumbling more in his mind about having no privacy, as he rounded the corner and appeared in the living room. Jungkook was sitting criss-cross on the floor with his back against the couch, a blanket draped over his legs with Tae’s fingers in his hair as Tae was upside down on the couch, legs peeking over the backrest and his head next
to Jungkook’s.

Jin was sitting in a mix-matched comfy chair with his legs tucked underneath him and body seemingly smaller since he was crunched in that chair. They seemed comfortable.
Jimin kept his eyes away from Jin, unsure of how much he heard and what exactly he was thinking about, so it was just safer to not say anything at all. Jin didn’t seem to mind, just gave a little reassuring smile, as Jimin took his place awkwardly on the edge of the couch and stared at his lap, where his hands were hidden.

“Good morning, Jimin~” Tae greeted excitedly, lifting his head and flashing the biggest, widest rectangular smile he had ever seen. A smile couldn’t help but form across his own lips as he smiled back. “Aw~ You are so adorable!”

Jimin’s smile melted into a pout, jutting out his lower lip and wiggling his nose. “I am not ‘adorable’.” Tae snickered, Jungkook’s lips lifting a tad in the corner as he gave Jimin a side glance and a once over that made him want to squirm. “Hey!”

“Sorry, but TaeTae is right. You are adorable.” Sighing, Jimin only answered by sticking out his tongue at the two boys, who snickered and cooed at the action, while Jimin huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. He was, however, feeling a bit more comfortable. The tightness and uneasiness in his chest was gone. “Did you sleep well?”

Jimin hummed his answer, a small nod, but kept his eyes on his hands. Jungkook nodded, seeming to get that he wasn’t in the mood to really talk quite yet and instead turned and pecked Tae on the cheek when the other male started messing with his ear. The latter squealed and squirmed.

Jimin’s eyes blew wide at the contact that was definitely not friendly, eyeing the two with small interest while Jin started smirking. “Yes, those two are a couple. Disgusting couple, I might add.” Jungkook broke away to roll his eyes but didn’t comment as he returned to gracing his lover with love. “Anyway, about last night… have you thought about it at all?”

The floor became the most interesting thing in that moment. He wasn’t sure how to answer, because the answer was tangling on his tongue, the sting of tears burning in his eyes because he knew that this was the right choice no matter how uncomfortable he was this.

But he also knew that he couldn’t keep staying in that house. His brother and father would be better off without him anyway. He was constantly fucking things up, and his brother was closer with dad then he was, so what was the loss?

“Jimin,” Jin stated firmly, dragging the smaller male's eyes away from the floor. They were glistening with unshed tears, his thoughts warbled and jumbled to the point that Jin was trying to shut him out. “We are not forcing you to stay here. Not at all. We would love to have you stay with us.”

“Yeah!” Tae interrupted, sitting up with lightening speed and pinning Jimin with that boxy grin filled with warmth and promise. “We take care of our own! Our house is your house, Minie! You won’t have to be alone!”

His breathe caught in his throat as he stared at the lilac haired male in surprise, his heart clenching in his chest at the words that resounded within his very being. The feeling that he has always had because he was alone. Yes, he had a brother who adored him and a best friend who was always there, but they didn’t know.

And now, he was being offered not only one, but multiple people who not only knew, but was just like him. He wasn’t alone anymore. It sent surges of relieved energy through his body, racing across his skin and dancing between his fingers. Embarrassed, he hid his hands further.

“Besides, we want to help you. We want to make sure that you get to have the normal life you seem to want,” Jin continued, not seeming to be put off by the little lightning volts bouncing between his fingers. “I am worried that Iron Clad will try and come after you again. And if you go home and stay there.”

Sighing a little, he nodded stiffly. “I’m a little worried about that too. I don’t… want my family in danger.” Jungkook peered down at the carpet, not looking up. Tae hooked his fingers in his raven hair. “I… would like to stay… but I don’t want to be a burden. The truth is… I want to stay because I… I don’t know. I just can’t keep up the pretenses of being normal anymore when I have people in front of me telling me I don’t have to be. I want to learn to… control this thing or whatever and be able to live normally. Moreover, you guys helped me, and so I want to help you.”

Tae massaged Jungkook’s scalp lightly, smiling broadly as he grinned at the small Jimin, whose dark brown eyes were glittering with determination and strength that surprised him a little. The other night, the male was a mess. Emotions all over and that was fine. To be expected really, but now, Tae could see that while he was emotional and gentle, there was strength there too.

Jimin was handsome, Tae could definitely admit that, but it was in a different way this his boyfriend. His was softer, feminine almost, in the slight chubbiness in his cheeks, the gentle curve of his plump, pink lips, and the almond shape of his dark brown eyes. His body was on the small side, but well defined and muscular. It was odd, how well built he was but still managed this cute appearance.

Fluffy black hair, plump cheeks, and little smile.

“Then it is decided. You are more then welcome to stay with us, Jimin,” Jin announced, smiling and clapping excitedly. Tae beamed broadly, letting out a holler of excitement while Jungkook met his gaze and gave a welcoming smile. “As I said before Jimin, you are not a hostage, but you do have to be careful. Your thoughts are based a lot around Jihyun. Did you… want to say goodbye?”

Jimin swallowed thickly. “Will I be able to visit him? And… see my friend Baek?”

“Of course! We aren’t going to tear you completely away, but… I will say this, until you really harness your gift, I suggest you spend some time away before reissuing contact. Your power is dangerous for one reason- it’s based on emotion. Whatever emotion you are feeling, it reacts. So… say your goodbyes, pack your things, and I shall send someone with you.”

“Don’t send Yoongi, then,” Jungkook snickered, eyes crinkling at the bright, amused smile on the young male’s face. He truly looked like a fifteen year old when his two front teeth showed through in a bunny smile. Tae burst into laughter himself, Jin rolling his eyes but agreeing.

Jimin felt like he was missing something in this.

Jin, either sensing or reading his thoughts, turned to him with a understanding smile as he met Jimin’s gaze. “I forgot we haven’t explained everyone's gift yet.” Jungkook instantly became uncomfortable, the smile disappearing instantly. “I’m afraid that some are not yet comfortable sharing, Yoongi being one of them, so I apologize, but it is not my place to say.”

“Oh, that’s fine, I get it. I don’t really like… talking about mine either,” Jimin admitted. Tae blinked in surprise before all but crawling over his boyfriend, nearly hitting him in the groin in his haste to get closer, that had Jungkook groaning and grabbing Tae’s hips to keep him in place.

“You don’t like being an Empower?” Tae asked, head tilted to the side that made him resemble the dog, Soonshim, and a little puppy. Jimin felt his brow furrow at the unfamiliar term, his head following Tae’s. Tae flushed. “Oh right. Well, I’m a Bridge. And well, Jin is a Telepath- there is no nickname for those, I wonder why- and well, you are a Empower. Lightening.”

“Oh.”

“Okay~ Enough of that.” Jin stood with a clap, the blanket that was draped over his legs falling to the floor as he bent down to pick it up and fold it. “Where is everyone? Is Yoongi still asleep?”

“No. He hasn’t slept all night. Been working on a new song,” Jungkook answered with a small shrug as Tae settled in his lap, Jungkook’s arms wrapped around his waist and head resting on Tae’s shoulder. “Tread lightly in other words. Oh, and Namjoonie is in the back- hacking probably. Hobi? I actually have no clue.”

Jin sighed and nodded, running a hand through his hair before closing his eyes. Jimin blinked as he watched the flutter of his eyelids, before a slow smile crossed his features and he opened them again.

“Hobi is in the backyard, dancing. He says he will be in soon. And Yoongi is showering,” Jin announced. Jungkook rolled his eyes while Tae chuckled, snuggling deeper. “Well, I’ll start breakfast. Cereal good for you guys?”

“Always. Besides, you cooked hard last night,” Tae said, leaping to his feet and helping his boyfriend up. Jimin followed suit, trailing behind the three as Jin hovered in the kitchen, bringing out bowls, silverware, and cereal boxes while Jungkook and Tae took their places at the kitchen table.

As Jimin was taking his seat, he flushed a little under Tae’s sudden intense stare as he eyed the smaller raven’s slightly tight clothing before a smirk crossed his features. “Are those Yoongie’s clothes?” He asked, leaning across the table on his forearms to get closer to Jimin. Jungkook hooked his fingers in Tae’s belt loop and pulled back into the seat that earned a whine from the older.

“Uh- well, uh, yeah. I believe so,” Jimin mumbled, ignoring the heat that was creeping up his nape and up his cheeks. Tae was beaming again, settled back down in his chair and a wicked look in his eyes. “Anyway, uh, so… how old are you two?”

“Tae is seventeen. I’m fifteen,” Jungkook responded, slipping his hand in Tae’s and bringing their joined hands up and kissing the back of his knuckles. Tae flushed a little, smiling fondly, as he leaned over and pressed his lips against the younger's cheeks.

“Really? That’s cute. Tae and I are the same age,” Jimin added, feeling a little surprised. Jungkook just seemed so much more mature than the lilac haired male, but he didn’t mind. He liked the relaxed and childish nature that he has. It’s sort of relaxing. “And you're the same age as my little brother.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything back to that, just lifted his right shoulder and let it drop back down in a jerky motion. Tae frowned at his boyfriend, his expression hard to read, and Jimin decided it was time to change the subject.

However, he didn’t get the chance when quiet footfalls could be heard along with grumbles and slight swears. Jungkook snickered under his breathe, eyes locked on the kitchen behind Jimin while Tae was smirking.

Before Jimin could look himself, the chair next to him was occupied by none other than Yoongi. Jimin squeaked at the sudden presence, staring at the other boy with wide eyes as the male flinched and growled at the screeching noise.

“Jesus Christ, stop the fucking screeching. What are you? A Banshee Spark?” The grouchy white haired male snapped. Jimin scowled, not liking the words, but bit his lip to keep his mouth shut.

Yoongi looked still half asleep, his white hair messy and sticking up in odd places, dark circles taking their place under his dark eyes and breaking the porcelain quality to his skin. He still looked incredibly handsome, wearing nothing but loose sweats that hung low on his slender hips, and loose white tee shirt that made him look even more pale.

Heat spread through Jimin, tingling across his skin and letting his blood burn as he eyed the male next to him. Yeah, Jimin was going to admit it. He was gay and the male next to him was every gay man’s personal wet dream.

It was infuriating since his attitude certainly did not match his beauty. If anything, it just pissed Jimin off and he just met the man, but there was something cocky and nonchalant about the male that was aloof and too easy-going that grated on his nerves.

Turning his eyes away from Yoongi, who was sipping black coffee from a white mug with a tired, hazy expression and slight pout that could be considered cute if it wasn’t for the earlier insult and ego wound Jimin had received earlier.

“And what are you? An Asshole Spark?” Jimin muttered under his breathe. Tae’s eyes widened, almost comically, while Jungkook smirked under his breathe as he looked up at the ceiling and pretended that he hadn’t heard.

Yoongi paused, cup inches from his pale lips, as he turned and narrowed his dark gaze on Jimin, who oddly, met his gaze evenly, mouth pressed in a firm line as he waited for the older to scold him, or slaughter him where he stood.

Instead, the pale elder only smirked, turned back to his drink and gave a soft chuckle that was barely audible. “Something like that, I guess. Not bad, kid.” Jimin’s eyes narrowed into slits at the ‘kid’ part but didn’t answer as he huffed and returned his eyes to the table. “Oh and keep those clothes. They look good on you.”

Jimin tried not to blush, but that ended up failing almost instantly as he winced and squirmed in his seat, mind returning to the fact he was wearing this man's clothes. The electricity in his skin sparked a moment, startling him as he hid his hands and ducked his head.

“Shut up.” Yoongi only smirked at his quietly uttered words. Shrugging again, shaking his head, Hobi was suddenly in the room. Jimin’s eyes widened when he saw how the older male's body drenched in sweat, his tank top sticking to his body and showing off the defined muscles and how his loose sweats had some grass stains. His odd hair was plastered to his forehead and his breathing uneven with a towel wrapped around his neck.

“Fucking Christ, Hoseok, you smell worse then the fucking landry,” Yoongi groaned, leaning back in his chair and casting the literal sun a glare with a scrunched nose. Hobi laughed lightly, strolling into the dining room and pulling out the chair on the end with his usual grin, even though he looked exhausted.

“Don’t be such a grouch, you turtle,” Hobi laughed lightly. Yoongi grunted under his breathe at the name, but didn’t retaliate as he took a long sip of his black coffee. Dark brown eyes, rimmed with exhaustion and cheerfulness, slipped over to Jimin, a lazy smile on his face. “Good morning, Jimin. You seem better this morning. Your emotions aren’t all over the place.”

 

“I often wonder how you make friends, horsey, when you say shit like that,” Yoongi added, swirling his spoon in the coffee and lifting an amused brow towards the happier male. Jimin smiled, sensing no hostility, but a comfortability that he had with Baek, and it made him feel more comfortable.

“Why are you so mean to me? Don’t make me come over there and hug you,” Hobi warned, waggling his brows playfully, opening his arms and wiggling his fingers. Yoongi’s face shrank like he got a taste of a lime.

“I think I rather not, you sweaty horse.”

“Yoongi!” Jin scolded, appearing in the room balancing multiple bowls on his arm and hands. Sighing, Yoongi stood and took some of the bowls, placing them in front of respective males who instantly dug into their different cereals. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he muttered back, retaking his seat like he hadn’t helped him out and took a bite of his cinnamon toast crunch. Jin rubbed his head, messing with his hair that sent the male to give the elder the finger. Jin only laughed and looked over at Jimin.

“What kinda cereal do you want? We have honey nut cheerios, fruit loops, and cinnamon toast crunch.”

“Cinnamon toast crunch,” Jimin replied with a smile. Jin smiled back fondly, nodding his head before he disappeared back into the kitchen only to return a few moments later with two bowls.

Grinning from ear to ear, Jimin excitedly took his bowl to fill his aching stomach as he dug into his food with Jin taking his respective place to start nibbling on his own cereal. Comfortable silence except for the sounds of chewing and light clanking of spoons fill over the table until Jungkook broke it.

Setting his spoon next to his empty bowl, he lifted his dark eyes from the table with a half smile curling his lips as he looked over at where Jin was sitting, drawing attention. “So, what’s the plan today?”

“Do we ever have a true plan?” Yoongi grumbled, shoveling the last bit of cereal in his mouth while never removing his gaze from the bowl. Snickers broke out across the group, Jin seemingly unamused by his words but ignored it.

“Jimin needs to return home to gather his things and say his goodbyes.” Jimin looked away when he felt the pairs of eyes drift over to him at the words, and he tried to not let it bother him, but he hated being stared at. “Therefore, I am sending him with at least two of you. Yoongi, you are one of them.”

“What? What the fuck? Why me?” Yoongi snapped, head jerking up faster then Jimin thought possible for the lazy, pale male. His dark eyes were narrowed, lips pinched in a tight line that showed his distaste at the mere idea.

“You damn well know why. He needs a Combat and a Noncombat. You are both,” Jin answered calmly, meeting his enraged gaze without blinking. Yoongi’s features twisted, lips pursed as his hands clenched. “I know it’s not ideal but he needs it.”

“Whatever,” he snapped, getting to his feet with the screech of the chair. Jimin bit back a flinch at the harsh sound, eyes locked onto the table as he felt the suffocating presence leave while the others watched with a sigh.

Unsure of what to say, Jimin remained silent, absently munching on his food as Jin huffed out a breathe. Namjoon, sensing his husbands distress, rubbed the back of Jin’s neck and offered a loving smile. Jin smiled back, grateful.

“Anyway, Jungkook, I am also sending you for Combat.” Jungkook’s face pinched, eyes narrowing, but he gave a stiff nod while Tae took his hand and squeezed. The raven haired smiled a bit. “Jimin, I would head out soon and get it over with. Alright?”

“Yeah. And uh, thanks for um, everything?” Jimin mumbled, feeling a bit awkward but wanting the other male to know that he was grateful for everything. “And I’m sorry about how I acted last night. I am not-”

“Jimin.” Jin’s stern tone knocked the words from Jimin’s mouth, letting the words die off as he stared when Jin stood, Namjoon gathering their bowls and disappearing into the kitchen as Jin placed a large hand on his small shoulder. “I don’t blame you from last night. It isn’t exactly easy to handle, finding out that you aren’t normal and having to leave home. Just remember, you are always welcome and well-loved here.”

After one more affectionate pat on the shoulder, Jin followed his husband out of the room to start on the dishes. Jimin smiled a bit, watching after them, before finishing his cereal and looking back at the couple across the table.

Jungkook was pretty quiet, but silently urging the distracted Tae to eat while Hobi was messing around with his food, talking animatedly with Tae. They spoke in fast tones, Jungkook watching his boyfriend with soft, gentle eyes while tugging on his shirt.

It was cute.

“Anyway,” Hobi drawled out, pulling away from his conversation with Tae to focus his eyes back on the small, blacked haired male. Jimin paused as Hobi flashed a bright smile. Jimin found himself smiling back. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine! I am sure that you will be able to be around your family again soon.”

“Thanks.”

“Sure thing, Jimin!” Hobi said gleefully. Jungkook rolled his eyes, nose scrunching cutely as he eyed the other male as he stood, gathering his dishes to head to the kitchen.

“Go take a shower. You seriously stink.” Hobi waved his hand dismissively over his shoulder, a laugh following before Tae snickered and kissed his boyfriend's cheek. Jungkook faced him. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Hmm. Be careful. Wanna take Soonshim?” Tae asked worriedly, a frown suddenly tugging at his features at the reminder his boyfriend was only going with Yoongi and Jimin, who had no experience in fighting or using his gift.

“No. I’ll be fine.” Tae nodded as Jungkook stood, kissing Tae’s hairline before wandering towards Jimin, who already was standing. Tae watched as Jungkook jutted his chin towards the door. “Let’s head out.” Jimin nodded just as Jungkook raised his voice and called for Yoongi. “He’ll be down in a few.”

Jimin nodded, feeling the bundle of nerves within the pit of his stomach grow and fester as the thought of his brother and how he was going to explain the fact he was leaving. They had always relied on each other, and disappearing now was already shattering his heart.

“Don’t worry, Jiminie, I am sure everything will be okay,” Tae said, drawing Jimin away from his troubling thoughts and back on the present. Brown eyes widened as they flicked back to the Bridge, who offered a big boxy smile. “Kookie here will take care of you. Yoons too.”

“Thanks, Tae.” The lilac haired grinned again before skipping off again with Soonshim at his heel. Jimin turned back to look at Jungkook, watching as the dark haired moved and slipped out the front door.

Jimin didn’t hesitate to follow.

Following absently behind the kid, he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the front door slam open and closed, the silent steps of Yoongi across the grass as he brushed past Jimin with a grunt.

A sigh caught in the back of his throat, watching the pale male shove Jungkook gently out of the way and hopping into the car from last night, taking his place in the driver seat with a scowl etched into his features like he was about to drive a hearse.

This is gonna be a long car ride, Jimin thought to himself tiredly.

Chapter Text

Nerves were bouncing painfully through Jimin’s system, eyes gradually growing wider and wider as the neighborhood turned familiar. His blood felt the usual tingly, the growing desire to run away from what he was about to do strengthening the purple current that was playing like a child through his fingers.

He stared out the window, hands clasped in his lap as he tried to slow his racing mind and panicking heart that felt like a rock had ballooned there and weighed it down while he slammed against his ribs.

“Uh, Jimin, please tone down the lightening there. I don’t feel like becoming bacon,” Jungkook’s lilting voice spoke up, nerves causing it to shake a bit. Jimin’s breath caught as he glanced down at his hands, which were sure enough bouncing the lightning like volleyball.

Eyes burned into him from the rearview mirror, dark and causing his skin to itch as he pulled down his sleeves and breathed in a shaky, deep breathe. He kept his eyes away from Jungkook.

“It wouldn’t have affected you. I would have to touch you or something close to you,” Jimin answered slowly, swallowing to dry and add moisture to his sandpaper mouth that was beginning to feel like the pavement of Busan in the summer.

“Still, we do not need the threat of becoming bacon hanging over our heads, kid. Get your shit together,” Yoongi countered coldly from the front seat. A surge of anger raced through the panic, eyes snapping towards the rear view mirror as he narrowed his eyes, fists clenched in his lap as more electricity bounced.

“I already fucking told you, asshole, I am not a kid. Whatever the fuck crawled up your ass and died needs to crawl back out before I show you true bacon,” Jimin snarled, truly fed up with the cocky bastard that has been nothing but rude since he got here.

Jungkook pressed his lips together, amusement dancing across his face as he pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to try and contain the laugh that was threatening to fall.

Jimin ignored him. He kept his eyes locked on the dark eyes in the rearview, the anger banishing the nerves as he kept his hands clenched tightly in his lap while his blood was singing sinfully.

“Whatever.”

Jimin huffed, turning back to the window. Day had broken out across Busan, the briny august air already creating heat waves to dance across the road. A flash of sadness stole his breath when saw kids hurrying off to school, the sight of the beach in the distance, and the heat creating a thin sheen of sweat to glisten across their skin.

His eyes traveled over the buildings he had passed a thousand times, past the stores he wandered aimlessly through without a care in the world, past the life he had always led and felt like he was stranger. A mere ghost, still trapped in a life it couldn’t have anymore.

Tears burned at his eyes, stinging and calming the heat in his veins to where the purple lightening disappeared, leaving normal, small hands and a feeling of self-hatred to bubble in his chest like a swarm of bees stinging his heart.

A weight hung on his chest as he stared out at the town he had known since he was a child. Salt slipped down his cheek, unable to stop it and he wasn’t going to bother. He was more than saying goodbye to his brother.

He was saying goodbye to everything he had ever known.

A hand touched his. A gasp tore through Jimin’s throat, eyes jerking away from the window as more tears spilled across his cheeks to see Jungkook. Panic raced through him when he realized Jungkook was touching his hand, and he tried to pull away, but the boy held fast. He had a sad smile on his face, clasping Jimin’s tiny hand in his.

“It’s okay, hyung.”

Jimin wasn’t going to lie. Jungkook’s warm hand in his brought him comfort. A line that he could use to crawl back out of the pit he was spiraling into. He tightened his grip around that hand and let him close his eyes and have a moment to let tears spill across his cheeks, for memories to swarm him, and for his heart to ache openly.

For once, Yoongi didn’t say anything. But Jimin felt his stare, felt his eyes across his features, and normally he would shy away from anyone witnessing him breaking down. Something he hasn’t done since he was twelve and anything electronic he touched broke.

But he didn’t care. He just didn’t care.

Finally, he felt calmer. The tears had stopped, the sadness lessened so he can breathe, but the panic and nerves had returned. He pulled his hand away from Jungkook’s, who watched carefully, but all Jimin did was offer a bright smile.

“Which house?” Yoongi muttered, breaking the silence that had been lingering over the car. Jimin recited the address, and Yoongi parked a block away. “Let’s get this over with.”

Jungkook opened the car door and hopped out, casting a glance towards Jimin as he stumbled out of the car and stared down the street where his house was just visible.
Busan’s heat instantly prickled at his skin, his black hair absorbing the rays of sun, as the three of them started down the street. Jungkook stayed by his side, matching his strides, while Yoongi drifted somewhat behind, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes locked on the black pavement.

“This is a nice neighborhood,” Jungkook remarked, glancing at the nice beach houses that were all at least two stories and well-decorated. Jimin flushed, nodding a bit, as his stomach twisted when they paused in front of his house. “Jimin. You have to do this.”

“Dad isn’t home,” Jimin answered, not in the mood to acknowledge Jungkook. He guessed that Jungkook got the message since the male fell silent, eyes raking over the empty driveway absently.

“We gonna go in or die of a heat stroke?” Yoongi sighed.

“Is there a point to your existence other than being a asshole twenty four seven?” Jimin countered drily. Yoongi paused a moment, eyes darker than usual as he narrowed his eyes.

“No, there isn’t a point to my existence. So being an asshole seems like a great option. Now, can we go?” Yoongi replied, but this time there was no ice to his tone, or anger. It was just stated, like he didn’t care.

Jungkook’s face pinched, head lowering as he stared at the ground. Jimin blinked twice, unsure of where that came from, but decided now really wasn’t the time to pry into the beautiful, yet incredibly annoying sloth of a man who looked more ready to tear of his limbs and use it as a body rest then talk.

Instead, Jimin just nodded slowly and offered a sad smile as moved past Yoongi. “Come on, I better get the lazy sloth in some air conditioning.”

“Did you just call me a sloth?” Yoongi deadpanned.

“Well, he isn’t wrong, Hyung.”

“Shut it, shrimp.”

“Hyung, I am taller than you,” Jungkook chuckled. Yoongi flashed the finger over his shoulder as he followed after Jimin, ducking his head, but Jimin was sure that he saw a small smile on the pale male’s face.

Jimin stepped up the steps and gripped the handle, which was warm against his sweaty, clammy hand that was tingling again. He felt the presence of the two Spark’s behind him, and for some reason, it was comforting.

Turning the knob, he stepped easily into the foyer. His brow furrowed. If the door was unlocked then his brother was still here- probably with Baekhee too. He turned back to the two boys, jutting his chin to urge them inside.

Yoongi didn’t hesitate. He hurried in and glanced around, dark eyes unreadable as he stared at the fine furnishing, the artwork, and the cold vacancy that made up his house while Jungkook awkwardly stood center, eyes flickering about like a child afraid of getting caught.

It was like Jimin remembered. The wooden floor was perfectly waxed, it cherry wood gleaming, and the walls adorned with fine art that his father seemed to love and no pictures of the family in the hall. It broke off in three different hallways leading to different parts of the house.

His chest constricted.

Jimin hurriedly shut the door. “Ok, my brother and my best friend are probably in the kitchen somewhere or-”

“What the fuck do you mean Jimin never came home last night, Jihyun? He was just with me last fucking night!” Baek screamed. Jimin flinched, instantly shrinking in on himself
at the sound that he knew would be waiting for him. Yoongi sighed, shifting from foot to foot restlessly.

“I guess being a Banshee Spark is a typical thing around here.”

“Hyung!” Jungkook snapped in a harsh whisper, hand coming to smack Yoongi’s arm. Yoongi shrugged while Jimin rolled his eyes and drifted towards the back hallway that lead to the kitchen, already knowing the two boys will stay there.

“I already told you a million times, Baekhee! I d-don’t know! I woke up and he wasn’t in the bathroom taking forever like he usually was so I checked his room and he didn’t even sleep in it- his bed is made! I don’t know where Jimin is!” Jihyun screamed back, sounding panicked and it broke Jimin’s heart.

“That doesn’t make any sense. That kid doesn’t have a bloody backbone and he wouldn’t go anywhere because you are literally everything-”

“Feeling loved right now,” Jimin deadpanned, stepping into the kitchen. Baek looked up from the kitchen table where Jihyun sat, hair unbrushed, still wearing his pajamas, and eyes lost and now the size of saucers.

Jihyun had dark circles under his eyes, worry glittering within his brown eyes that had always been a shade or two lighter than his older brothers. His hair, also a bit longer, was unkempt and was sitting at the island with his shoulders slouched.

Baek blinked before she rushed over, slamming her body against Jimin’s in a huge hug. Jimin gasped, stumbling back at the force of her before managing to catch himself and wrap his arms around her.

“You fucking idiot. What the fuck is wrong with you? What the fuck were you trying to accomplish? You stupid, motherfucking asshole! What the fuck!” Baek cried, arms tightening around his waist while Jihyun stood and ran over, throwing himself against the two of them, tears streaming silently down his youthful face.

A face that shared similar features of his own.

For a moment his breath was stolen from his lungs went he felt the two people he adored the most in the entire world clinging to him, terrified that he was gone, and knew they wouldn’t let him go. Not without a good reason.

His brother needed him. He needed Jihyun just as much. Baek… she was always there for him. Always watching over him. Ever since freshman year, he could count on her to be there for him. She was always okay with the fact he preferred boys over girls, that all he was good at was dancing, and that he was trapped under his father's thumb.

Jimin owed her everything. He was sure he would have given up a long time ago if it wasn’t for her.

But he also knew he had to leave. Jin was right. He had to learn to control this. He had to stay away so Iron Clad will leave them alone.

For that, and that alone, he knew he could do this.

Jimin hugged Jihyun tighter, breathing in his scent that he has always had surrounding him, letting the feeling of his little brother’s long, still-growing limbs against his body as he held him tightly. Baek hugged him even tighter, sighing a bit in the back of her throat.

Baek was the first to pull away. Jimin watched as she adjusted her clothing, brushing her scarlet hair from her eyes as she chuckled and shook her head. “I have no idea what happened to you last night, and trust me, I will find out, but right now we have to go.” She glanced at the clock, a frown beginning to grow. Jihyun tightened the hug once more before untangling himself and looking over Jimin carefully.“Come on, you two idiots, we have to get ready for school. We are already running late, and I know your dad is gonna throw a hissy fit but-”

“-Baekhee,” Jimin interrupted quietly, arms dropping back to his sides as pain flooded his heart, his tongue becoming heavier, and his hands to shake with new force as the energy that made up his body came alive.

Baek paused, blue eyes wide as she stared at Jimin. He took this moment to study her, admire her and her strength, breathing deeply to remember her scent and how she was always there. He took this moment to memorize her.

Jihyun stopped by the door, dark eyes unreadable as he turned back to his brother. So similar in so many ways. Same face shape, same dark eyes, and same nose. But so different.

Maybe… Jihyun would be better off without Jimin in his life. Nothing to hold him back. Their father would pay more attention to him, send him off to the best schools- he could get a girlfriend. He could be normal. And happy.

The buzzing got louder.

“I’m not coming to school, Baekhee.” The words tasted funny in his mouth. Sour and wrong, but steady. Emotionless. Baek froze, face stricken like he had just struck a blow. Jimin gave a sad smile. “I am not coming back at all after this.”

“W-what?” Baek breathed, stumbling a bit. Jimin felt the energy surge in his body, blood coming alive as the urge to cry grew with the sound of her voice cracking and eyes filling with tears. He had never seen her cry. Not once. “Jimin, this isn’t funny. First you give Jihyun a fucking heart attack and now you’re saying you’re leaving?”

“I can’t stay here, Baekhee.”

“Bullshit!” Baek shouted, slamming her hand against the counter. Jihyun jumped from where he hovered by the door, face pale, and Jimin flinched as he watched her chest heave and a tear trickle down her cheek. “Is this about last night? A-about how I didn’t let y-you study?”

“No.”

“Then why!”

“I don’t want this life, Baekhee. I don’t want to stay here and be my father’s puppet. I don’t want to go to that school everyday where all I hear is whispering and people pointing at me like I am some sideshow freak.” Baek sobbed. The sound tore at Jimin, the buzzing growing louder and louder as he fought back tears. “I don’t want this
anymore. I don’t fit in here.”

“J-jiminie…” Jihyun breathed, rushing over and hugging Jimin from behind. Jimin squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his brothers arms, face buried in his back, as he sobbed. Jimin felt the hot, salty tears through his borrowed shirt. “Don’t l-leave me h-here alone.”

“You aren’t alone. You have dad. You have Baek. You have friends. I am not needed here anymore.” Jimin managed to get out from his brothers grip. Baek watched, hand gripping the counter so hard that her hand was plastered white. Jihyun stood still, chest heaving as he fought back tears. “Why do you fucking care anyway? Baek, I know I ruin your life. You could have some boyfriend! You can rule the fucking school! What does it matter if I leave anyway?”

“Is this… because of the computer lab?” Jihyun breathed. Sheer panic blinded Jimin as his eyes jerked towards the brown haired male, taking a step back. Baek looked away.

“Because of the store? And… the cellphone a few years ago? And the power outages-”

“Shut up,” Jimin hissed. Jihyun swallowed thickly as Jimin ducked his head, feeling the familiar feeling of the current running through his veins, igniting his skin and making his entire body buzz. The way he hated. “You don’t know what you are talking about.”

“But-”

“-I have to go.” Jimin turned on his heel. His lungs hurt. His vision swayed dangerously as he raked his way past the kitchen and darting up the stairs on weak legs, buzzing hands gripping the railing- leaving scorch marks of his hands against the wooden railing.

Nausea was crawling up his throat, gripping his windpipe in iron claws as he fought for breath, stumbling into his room. It looked exactly how it did last night- books scattered across the bed, his homework laid out, and clothes strewn across the floor- despite how his entire world is upside down.

Slamming his eyes shut, he begged to whatever god was out there to make the pain in his heart to stop hurting, for the sinful buzz that was spreading like acid through him to sizzle out, to be gone so he doesn’t have to do this.

It doesn’t.

Jimin stumbled to his closet, grabbing his large black dance duffel bag and grabbing all the clothes he could from the closet, shoving it into the bag as he fought back tears, fought to breathe, and fought to keep the purple lightning from burning everything around him.

As he finished packing his shampoo, underwear, shaver, and other things, he went back to his room and grabbed his phone charger- despite not having his phone right now- a few pictures, and zipped up his bag.

“I never pictured you as the abandoning type,” Baek whispered from the doorway. Jimin shook his head, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached painfully as he slung his bag over his shoulder. “Who are those guys down there, Jimin?”

“Friends.”

“Really?” Baek snapped. “Are you leaving us because of them? Or… because of the thing you can do?” Jimin wanted to scream. He wanted to cover his ears and slam his head against the ground. Instead, he huffed and moved to go past her. Baek gripped his wrist, pulling him harshly back. “Do you think we are stupid, Jimin? Do you think we wouldn’t have noticed-”

“Let me go.”

“No! I want a good reason for you just leaving us!” Baekhee screamed back, her hand tightening around his wrist. The lights began to flicker as his panic, his anger, his sadness, began to overflow. If Baek noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“Baekhee, let me go! Now!”

“No!” She screamed, pulling his hand up and shoving the sleeves of his hoodie down to expose his hands, exposing every inch of him. His blood lurched. He felt it. Felt the way it swelled within him like a tsunami as he shoved her away.

The lights blew as purple lightening streaked out from his hands, crackling and thundering as everything went dark. Glass shattered, the room going dark, while outside he saw the power lines jump as scorch marks grew outward like a burning flower from around his feet. The room felt hot, crackling with too much energy.

A scream tore through Baekhee, body lurching backward as she hit the wall. Jimin stumbled, entire body throbbing, thrumming, and vision dusted white as his ears rang. His legs shook, the purple lightening skittering across his body like old friends.

Baek was against the wall, shaking as she clutched her hand that had been gripping Jimin’s wrist to her chest as she shook, eyes blurry and unseeing as she cried. Jimin blinked, trying to get his body to react, but it was like all the energy he knew had been blown out of him. He felt so heavy.

“Jimin!” Yoongi’s voice screamed, the heavy sound of footsteps echoing throughout the house as he made his way towards the room. Jimin couldn’t look at Baekhee as Jungkook and Yoongi appeared in his doorway, panic written across their faces, eyes wide and darting. “Jimin!”

At the sight of the two Sparks, Jimin broke into tears, hands shaking as he clasped them in front of him, eyes shifting around the room to take in the damage. The light bulbs were busted, lamp heads melted, the walls scorched with lightening shaped marks, the floor around his feet like a withering flower.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” Jimin cried, gasping as he fought for air. Jungkook glanced at Baekhee, who was still clutching her hand as she cried. His eyes widened with realization when he looked at Jimin’s crackling hands. “i-I tried. I tried t-to stop i-it!”

“Jimin, we have to go. You took out all the power lines in the entire neighborhood. We have to go now,” Jungkook stated, realizing just how bad this was. A surge this big will draw attention. Attention none of them could face right now.

When Jimin made no move to go anyway, Yoongi grabbed Jimin’s bag, oddly careful to not touch Jimin’s flesh, and jerked his head.

“Jihyun is safe- we managed to knock him out cold. Let’s go.” Jimin couldn’t move. Yoongi sucked on his teeth before using the bag to shove Jimin forward. “Move!”

A surge ran through his blood. Jimin wasn’t sure how he was moving. But his legs jerked as Jungkook ran next to him, legs cramping as they took the steps two at a time, darting past the hallway that held the pictures, the only evidence that once he was normal. A sob clutched his chest as Jungkook slammed his body against the front door, shoving it open as they leaped outside into the heat of Busan.

Jimin wasn’t sure how he kept running, his legs like jelly and his mind frizzed out like the powerlines above his head. But somehow he managed to run with the two Sparks next to him, his mind replaying the thunderous boom, the crackle, and Baekhee’s scream.

Everything felt so wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This wasn’t how he wanted it to go. All he wanted now was to curl up into a ball and sleep. To pretend this never happened.

A cry tore through Jimin’s lips when his legs gave out beneath him, sending him to the ground. His hands scraped across the pavement as he laid there, tears trickling down his cheeks, hands buzzing and heart aching.

Yoongi skidded to a stop. “Hyung!” Jungkook called, a few feet ahead of them with wide eyes. Yoongi ignored him as he hurried over, cursing heavily under his breath as he saw how the young male curled in on himself. “Yoongi! Don’t touch him! You can’t touch him!”

“Trust me!” Yoongi called back, his mind internally calling him an idiot, kneeling down in front of Jimin. A part of him knew this was risky. He, of all fucking people, shouldn’t touch him. But seeing how broken the kid was, how his sobs tugged at his heartstrings, he can’t watch this anymore. Besides… he had a feeling. A feeling that just this once, he could do this.

Honestly, Yoongi hated people like him. Whining and crying about their sad lives while smiling all the fucking time. Cute without even trying and sassy all in one go. He hated people like Park Jimin.

They think they had it rough? He wanted to go tell them to go cry him a river so they can build a bridge and get the fuck over it. He didn’t have time for their whining about how their ‘lives are ruined’ and they are ‘freaks of nature’ and how ‘this can’t be happening to them’.

He hated them.

But this kid. He smiled, he was sassy, and god did he whine like a child, but he was kind despite the fact Yoongi had been nothing but an asshole to him, he still made an effort and he felt like he should at least return the favor.

Yoongi may not have the same powers as Hobi, being able to sense feelings or whatever, nor did he have Jin’s power to read minds, or anything extreme like that, but he saw this kids house. He could see the connection between the kid and his brother.

The connection between his friends.

And more than that… Yoongi could see his fears. That was one of his gifts. The ability to see one's fear and reflect it back full force. Most people had the usual fears. Being burned alive, drowning, falling, or being shot at or starving.

But Jimin? No. His fear was disappointing someone he loved, of losing someone he loved, or of ending up alone. Of not being able to be there for his brother. For his best friend.

And it stunned Yoongi.

Still, this kid still pissed him the fuck off. He was still annoying. Still small. That was the least of his problems right now. Right now, the kid was falling behind, lost within the turmoil of his mind and if they weren’t careful, factions of Iron Clad could find them and Yoongi knew Jungkook will not use his power. Not when Yoongi was within in a five
meter radius.

Not when anyone was in a five meter radius.

Besides, Yoongi really didn’t want to fight right now.

Yoongi leaned down, hesitating inches from touching Jimin’s skin, before mentally saying fuck it and gripping Jimin’s arms, pulling him into his chest and holding him there, bound by a hug.

A gasp tore through his throat at the vibrations of electricity going through him. It wasn’t painful- not yet anyway- but instead made him feel like he took twenty ounces of the best dope as it thrummed across his skin. It hummed and sang, igniting his skin like he had just been tingling after a great massage.

Yoongi shoved down his power that wanted to reach out, caress Jimin’s and let it reach it’s peak. That couldn’t happen. Lord knows what would happen if that happened. So he held fast.

At first, Jimin froze like a statue in the hold before he began to thrash, a scream tearing through his throat as he begged, pleaded, for the pale Spark to let him go before he hurt him but Yoongi only tightened his grip, staring up at the blue sky.

“It’s okay… you won’t hurt me. It’s okay, Jimin. Everything will be alright,” Yoongi whispered to the thrashing boy, whose sobs got louder as he fought with what little strength he had before sagging against him, stilling. Yoongi sighed in relief as the electricity dispersed and Jimin’s cries became softer, tiny fingers gripping Yoongi’s shirt as his breathing evened out.

For a minute, Yoongi was stunned when the boy nuzzled his chest, like a puppy would to his owner's hand, and settling deeper into the embrace. “Thank… you, Yoongi.” Yoongi cleared his throat, shaking his head.

“Yeah, what the fuck ever kid. We gotta go, so get your fat ass up. I can’t feel my legs.” Jimin smiled, this time not looking perturbed by Yoongi’s insults or even having a bit of his feathers ruffled by the jabs. Instead, he slowly crawled off, getting to his feet as Yoongi slowly stood. “Now, can we go already? This is the most sunlight I have gotten since birth.”

Jimin’s dark brown eyes flickered over to the pale male, a little red, eyes still puffy from his crying, and the sadness still lingering heavily, but there was a smile crossing his features, breaking out across his fluffy cheeks.

“We can tell, hyung.”

Yoongi blinked twice at being called ‘hyung’ by the kid. It totally blind sided him. He took a moment to digest it, ignoring the fact he kinda liked it, before scoffing and muttering under his breathe as he turned on his heel and marched back towards the car. He heard Jimin follow behind, like an obedient puppy.

“Cheeky brat.”

“Cocky asshole,” Jimin countered sweetly as Yoongi lifted himself into the car, flashing the finger over his shoulder. Jungkook rolled his eyes from the front seat as Jimin settled
into the car, eyes lingering on the neighborhood.

If Jungkook and Yoongi knew that he was crying, they never said anything about it, and Jimin was grateful. He closed his eyes and let the humming of the car, the blasting of the air conditioning, and the exhaustion from his limbs weigh him down until he fell into unconsciousness.

 

*******

 

Namjoon watched from the archway to the kitchen as Jin washed the dishes from the morning breakfast, eyes on the blond haired male that he loved so much. Jin was wearing his simple jeans, beige sweater, and round glasses perched on his nose while his blond hair styled neatly.

It made a smile twitch at his lips, if it wasn’t for the latest update on everything that has been happening. “Why did you send Yoongi with Jimin?” Namjoon asked quietly, breaking the tranquility of the water running and Jin’s low humming.

Jin glanced behind him towards his husband, dark eyes glittering with something unreadable. Namjoon could feel the familiar pressure of Jin in his mind, hearing his thoughts and reading him in the way only Jin could.

Normally, Namjoon would be alright with it- it was how Jin could be so motherly towards people and understand what you needed or wanted just by the passing thoughts you couldn’t say out loud, but right now, he didn’t want it.

“You doubt my choice,” Jin replied, hands pausing in their scrubbing of a bowl. It wasn’t question, merely a statement of the thoughts that had been whirling around within Namjoon’s mind.

Namjoon heaved a sigh, arms crossing over his chest as he gently nudged Jin out of his mind. “It’s not that I doubt, baby, but… Jimin is in a precarious situation right now. He is emotional, struggling, and dangerous. So you send the second most powerful Spark here with him?” he asked, voice raising a tad with each word.

“Yoongi can control himself.”

“This isn’t about control, Seokjin!” Namjoon shouted. Jin narrowed his eyes, taken aback by the sudden shout of his husband. Namjoon must have seen the hurt across Jin’s face because he softened and looked down. “Jimin is an emotion based Spark. His abilities are the rarest of all because he doesn’t manipulate. He creates. He is his own conductor. Seokjin, don’t you see? Yoongi should have had the power to piss off literally anybody instead of this. Don’t you realize that if Jimin gets pissed off while in Yoongi’s presence, anything could happen?’

Jin remained quiet a moment. He knew that what Namjoon was saying was true. It was a risky situation, but he also knew this had to be done. The pale Spark was withdrawn, was hesitate around everyone. He shut himself in his room, barely came out, and it broke Jin.

Since it was mostly his fault. This was the only way he knew how to fix it. He had to show the male that he was needed, that he could control himself, and that he wasn’t… a bad person. That his power wasn’t all bad.

Yes, it was probably the dumbest idea ever to send him with Jimin, but he knew some of Jimin's passing thoughts, he knew that the black haired boy wouldn’t purposely hurt anyone- including Yoongi who seemed to press all the wrong buttons.

A sigh ratted through Jin’s chest as he shut off the water, leaning against the sink as he heard the chaos, the worry, that was racking his husbands mind and knew that was also his fault. Namjoon was the leader of this faction, the one who had to keep the Spark’s under him safe, and because of a last minute decision he felt threatened.

Was this all he was good for? It felt like it sometimes.

“What happened six months ago wasn’t your fault, Seokjin.”

“Yes it was. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have gotten overzealous. I should have listened… I just… I wanted to help Kookie and instead I…” Tears choked him, making him fall quiet when he remembered the day that broke the family he created. The day that caused so much strife for so long that it only started to get better about a month ago. “And now I have-”

“Jin.” Namjoon pushed himself off the doorway and pulled Jin into his arms. The taller male instantly folded himself into the familiar embrace, burying his face in the crook of the silver haired male's neck and breathing in the scent of detergent, cologne, and coffee that made up the male he loved. “What happened wasn’t your fault. You wanted to help, but it just didn’t work that way, alright? Yoongi’s powers is new to everyone and you can’t stop everything. Understand? Let fate take it’s course.”

“I don’t believe in fate. If fate existed, then we wouldn’t be fighting everyday to just be able to come home to a normal household,” Jin sighed. Namjoon gave a sad smile, mentally agreeing that was true. “I can hear you.” Namjoon chuckled.

“Right. Sorry.” Jin just smiled against his chest as Namjoon tightened his hold around the frail male. “Besides, Kookie is alright. He is better. Tae is safe, and happy. Hobi is working things out. Yoongi is slowly… getting over it. That’s all that matters right now.”

“You’re right. Have you been reading those parenting books again?”

“It was once!” Namjoon defended, flabbergasted. Jin laughed, gently pushing himself away from Namjoon embrace as he turned back towards the dishes, starting the water back up. Namjoon smiled, slipping his arms back around Jin’s slender waist and resting his chin against Jin’s shoulder. “You are so beautiful, baby.”

“Hmm. I know.”

“And so modest,” Namjoon teased. Jin only beamed and preened.

“Can’t help that I was born with this face.”

“God, I love you.”

“I love you too.” Silence fell over the couple as jin hummed as he worked while Namjoon’s thoughts drifted back to the phone call he had with the Gimhae Spark faction. Jin stopped humming and Namjoon winced. “Iron Clad is working with the military?”

“Baby…”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, Namjoon.” Jin turned, forcing Namjoon to unhinge himself before he was knocked on his ass and watched as Jin slammed a hand on the counter. “When did you hear from Chanyeol?”

“About four hours ago,” Namjoon supplied quietly. “But the information is unclear right now. Since the last attack we did on their tech support through the hacking system they have been on the DL up until Jimin appeared. Chanyeol said they are just starting to make a move again, but they aren’t sure what they are planning.”

“Okay, so what’s the plan?” Jin asked after a few moments of tense thinking. Namjoon sighed and ran a hand over his face and hair before shaking his head.

“Right now we don’t have one. I have no leads on any Iron Clad leaders, or attack patterns, or anything to really disrupt. Right now, it’s the waiting game till we get a lead.” Namjoon hated this. Iron Clad had been so quiet recently. No raids, no kills, no kidnaps. Just silence.

Then, out of the blue, he gets a call from the next town over saying there was movement and a possibility that Iron Clad had gained a new ally, one that Namjoon really didn’t want to think about. They were getting closer to their goal, which was worldwide exploitation of their… abilities… and that would cause a lot of civil unrest and worse.

There was a hell of a lot more Carnals- normal humans who are ungifted. If humans labeled Spark’s as dangerous, which they probably will- I mean a human who can control lightning, fire, animals, or read minds would be considered dangerous- not to mention the wars between the countries and the possibility that scientists will use Menders for cures to cancer.

In other words, it would be chaos. Which is exactly what Iron Clad wants. Which is why Namjoon, and other Sparks, are fighting against it. They want this world to be peaceful, to live without the threat of humans and not be labeled and forced to do things.

History has that bad tendency to repeat itself.

“Then we will inform Yoongi and the others tonight during dinner- we have to be on the lookout. Imperium has had our heads on the chopping block for a while,” Jin stated, and just like that, turned back to the dishes.

Imperium. It was latin for power and iron Clad’s leaders alias. No one really knew what his power was, or if anybody did they certainly weren’t sharing. He is hardly ever spotted, but he anyone who isn’t Iron Clad knows of him.

And he has hated Namjoon’s faction from the beginning. That was the only thing that has made Namjoon smile.

Chapter Text

Jimin stared up at the ceiling, mind replaying the sight of him hurting Baek. He knew the time was dwindling. Sunlight was filtering through the window, breaking out across his bed and warming him a bit too much under his sheets.

He knew he should get moving. He cannot stay in bed all day. This wasn’t his house. There was no way that he was not going to chip in and help in any way he could- besides, he knew he needed to start learning to control whatever this was.

So what happened with Baekhee… would never happen again.

He had hurt his best friend. The one who was always there for him, never judging him or being harsh. Always wanting to help him whether with money for dance classes or bringing him and Jihyun food.

For hurting her, he will never forgive himself.

Tears blurred his vision, but he fought it. He has cried way too much these past few days. He has never been much of someone to shed tears, always finding a better solution, but he hasn’t really been himself the past few days.

But enough was enough. He couldn’t mope anymore and he knew it. He was going to learn, to help the best he can- if he can-, and see what the life of a Spark was like. He owed it not only to himself but to the people that have taken him in when they had no reason to.

Right as Jimin found the motivation to move, to go shower and become a presentable person again, his door was thrown up. Jimin screeched, jumping at least fifty feet in the air as he clutched his blankets while purple lightening- thankfully unthreatening- bounced around the room.

Tae looked undisturbed as he bounded in happily, a white medium sized bunny clutched in his arms as he grinned from ear to ear. His lilac hair was down, this time a bit straighter and mostly covered by a black beanie. He wore tight dark wash jeans, a white long sleeved sweater that had holes across the arms.

Liner was lining his dark eyes, eye shadow the color of the same shade as his hair around his eyes, and the smile he wore brighter than the sun outside. The bunny looked quite content in his arms, and for a moment, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was Jungkook.

Jungkook-ah did look like a bunny… are their Sparks with the ability to shift into animals? That doesn’t seem like a mind power but what the hell do I know?

“Minie!” Tae greeted happily, bare feet padding across the room till he bounced on Jimin’s bed with a deep chuckle that always took Jimin by surprise. This kid looked like he would have a cute voice, but instead it gave Jimin a heart attack each time. “Lookie lookie! Isn’t he adorable?”

Jimin breathed out, his heart that was racing a million miles a minute slowly beginning to calm itself from the scare the lilac haired male gave as he crossed his legs and made himself comfortable on Jimin’s bed, cradling the white fluffball to his chest.

A smile wormed it’s way onto Jimin’s face, shifting the covers down and forgetting all about the fact his black hair was sticking up in every direction, his breath could probably kill somebody, and he was only wearing a white tank top and spongebob boxers.

Leaning forward, Jimin ran his fingers over the bunny’s soft coat while Tae giggled, nose scrunching cutely. “TaeTae-ah, is this Jungkook-ah?” Jimin asked, amazed when the bunny sniffed his fingers and began to playfully shift within Tae’s hands.

Tae froze for a moment before he burst into laughter. The bunny hopped out of Tae’s hands, deciding to go and sniff at Jimin’s feet while Tae fell to the floor with a thud. Heat spread across Jimin’s face when he realized that there probably wasn’t a power like that out there and he felt stupid.

“No! That isn’t Junkookie-ah! He isn’t a Shifter!” Tae laughed, clutching his stomach as he laughed heartily on the ground while Jimin sat on the bed with a sheepish look on his face, but couldn’t help smiling at how adorable the lilac Spark was. “Looks like Hobi Hyung owes me some money!”

Jimin huffed, puffing out his cheeks as he crossed his arms and let the Spark crawl back onto the bed, grin still intact as he settled back on the bed. Instantly, the white bunny hopped back into his lap and begged for cuddles.

A smile was on his features when he heard the sound of what sounded like hooves across the wooden floors. Blinking widely, he looked towards his door and saw what looked a female deer that passed by, followed by a tiny fox with big ears.

“Um… Tae-ah?” Jimin muttered, lifting his hand to point towards the door where a coyote was now standing, peering into the room with golden eyes filled with curiosity. Tae turned and looked at the animal, whose tail started wagging as soon as Tae turned his chocolate orbs towards him.

“Oh! Those are my friends. I invited them in this morning since it started raining really hard and they seemed so cold and unpleasant out there! So I let them come in to play!” Jimin felt like laughing, if he wasn’t close to panicking at the fact at coyote was standing a few feet from him and looking like a cute little puppy. “I didn’t want them to get cold so I said they could come in! Aren’t they cute?”

He really wanted to laugh. Or cry. He stared at Tae with huge eyes, wondering why he was so calm about the fact there was a bunch of wild animals in the house when he remembered what Tae told him- he had the ability to communicate with animals.

Unperturbed by the lack of answer from the dark haired male, Tae jumped up while still holding the bunny and kneeled by the coyote who started licking his face and barking happily. Tae merely giggled while Jimin was trying really hard to flip the fuck out.

“Although, I warned the crane that came in to stay out of the kitchen, but I haven’t really seen her around. Or the money either… hmm…” Tae mumbled, now plopping onto the ground as the bunny joined the musk deer that was starting to enter the room.

Jimin really wanted to know what was in the kimbab last night. This had to be some kinda acid trip, but damn if the smell wasn’t enough to convince him otherwise. Oh man, Jin Hyung is gonna have a fit about the smell. Oh shit… Jin hyung!

“Um, TaeTae?”

“Yeah, Minie?” Tae replied, giggling when small bird landed on his head and chirped happily. Jimin instantly started calling Tae Snow White in his head because damn if he wasn’t starting to seem like it.

“Does Jin Hyung and Namjoon Hyung know about this?” Jimin asked. Tae suddenly became very still, his smile faltering a tad as a deep, nervous laugh echoed throughout the room as he avoided the dark haired male's eyes. A bad feeling settled within the pit of Jimin’s stomach as he swallowed thickly. “Um… how many… animals did you… bring in, exactly?”

“Well… I don’t really know?”

“KIM TAEHYUNG! YOU LITTLE FUCKING SHIT! I’M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!” Yoongi bellowed from down the hall that had Tae squeaking like a child. A scream suddenly sounded from Hobi’s room, sounding quite close to a girl (sorry Hobi) while another enraged screech sounded from the kitchen which sounded like Jin.

“SNAKEU! I HATE SNAKEU!”

“KIM TAEHYUNG! YOU ARE IN BIG TROUBLE!” Came Jin’s scream. Tae’s eyes widened to saucers when the sound of rapid foot steps, more screeches from Hobi, and then Jungkook’s shouts filled the house.

Jimin’s eyes widened when Yoongi was suddenly in the doorway, pale white hair sticking up in odd directions, face puffy from sleep, dark eyes narrowed harshly on Tae who was clutching the poor bunny close.

The dark haired Empower Spark swallowed when his mouth ran dry at the sight of the pale Spark. God fucking damn it, why does he look so fucking adorable right now? Like Jesus Christ! He is about to kill Tae! Jimin’s mind screamed as he stared at the male who was wearing loose grey sweats that hung low on slender hips, his black hoodie riding up to barely expose a sharp looking V-line. And he is a fucking asshole!

“Kim Taehyung! Why the fuck is there animals CRAWLING ALL OVER THE HOUSE!” Yoongi screamed, marching further into the bedroom to grab Tae by his shirt and pull him down so he can be face to face.

The lilac haired male flinched and sputtered while Jimin watched helplessly as Jungkook rounded the corner, dressed in what looked like Iron Man pajama bottoms and a matching shirt. Were those Iron Man socks too?

“Yoongi! Let Tae go!”

As if on cue, a monkey- a medium sized one that was native to South Korea to be exact- leaped on Yoongi’s back and hugged his long arms around his neck in a show of affection. Yoongi startled, letting go of Tae who instantly scampered out of reach.

“Run!” Tae shouted. A flurry of movement from all over the house followed. Jimin could only watch with amusement and terror as the monkey leaped back off Yoongi to join the furry companions in running out of the house.

Jungkook leaped back as three coyotes ran past, heading down the stairs to follow the two musk deer and a small batch of rabbits that was headed for the back door that led to the forest and suburbs.

Hobi dove out of his room, terror stricken across his face as two snakes slithered out of his room followed by a few mice and a fennet fox while Tae was busy dodging Yoongi’s grabs, the shock worn off from the monkey as he clambered down the steps two at the time, a growl caught in his throat.

Jin was standing in the kitchen, which was now covered with white and grey bird poop, pink silk pajamas ruffled, blond hair unbrushed, and a exasperated Namjoon standing not far behind, silver hair equally messy and eyes watching while looking like he would rather be anywhere but here.

Jimin hovered in the doorway as Jungkook sighed, leaning against the wall of the hallway like this was a common occurrence, running a hand through his messy hair as the sounds of Yoongi’s pursuit and Tae’s begging persisted.

“I’m gonna kill you when I fucking catch you, Kim Taehyung!”

“It was a few animals, Hyung!” Clatter, pans moving. “It was rainy and wet!”

“They are animals, you stupid fuck!” A door slam, another yell. “A monkey! A fucking monkey and a god damn chipmunk was lying on my face!”

“I told them not to bother you but Kiki liked you!” More footsteps coming closer to the stairwell as Tae zoomed past, followed closely by a very pissed off Yoongi.

“You named it fucking Kiki?!” Yoongi screamed, leaping over the couch. Tae squeaked and made a dive to go past but Yoongi flanked right and stopped him. Tae squeaked again and made for the other side but Yoongi was having none of it.

Jimin bit on his lip to stop him from breaking out into laughter, clutching the door frame as he overheard the argument and wondered how this could even be a argument. It seemed so ridiculous and stupid!

“Enough! Min Yoongi! Kim Taehyung! Stand down!” Jin shouted, appearing like a pissed off mother hen in the living room where both Yoongi and Tae’s chests were heaving, hair messy, clothes rustled, and eyes wide like a child's.

Jimin glanced over at Jungkook, raising his brows in question towards the younger who smiled and shrugged towards the silent question. The raven haired spark drifted down the stairs, while Jimin turned to Hobi who looked like he was in about to piss himself.

“Hobi Hyung? You okay?” Jimin asked worriedly, a frown tugging at his features at the odd colored haired male. The male rubbed a hand over his face, blinking a couple times as if waking from a dream before offering a shaky smile.

“Remind me to fuck with Tae’s emotions later, okay?” Hobi sighed as he pushed himself to his feet, using the wall for support. Jimin raised his brows but quietly agreed before following him down the stairs and into the living room where everyone had gathered.

Jin sighed as he rubbed his temples, grumbling a bit under his breathe as he looked between Tae and Yoongi. “Honestly… Taehyung, what have I told you? No wild animals in the house! I don’t mind you making friends, sweetie, but not in the house! As for you Yoongi, no threatening to do harm to another member of the Bangtan Faction! The Busan Sector is already on high alert.”

“Sorry Eomma,” Tae mumbled, lowering his head while his arms hung by his side. Jungkook frowned over at his boyfriend, slinking his hand into Tae’s and offering a gentle squeeze. Tae offered a weak smile in return.

“Yeah whatever,” Yoongi muttered, rolling his eyes but making no further words. Jin frowned in his direction before ruffling Tae’s hair to brighten his spirits a bit before looking over at everyone.

“Tae, you are in charge of cleaning up my kitchen. Yoongi, you are cleaning up the living room- the rest of you go get ready for the day,” Jin ordered. Mumbles went through the room before everyone dispersed to follow orders.

 

*******

 

Jimin wasn’t going to lie. His skin felt so much better, no longer feeling the crust from sleep or the grime from the day before weighing him down as he climbs out of the shower. The scent of strawberries drifted from him because of his shampoo that he snagged from home, letting the scent bring him peace.

With the scent of strawberries, he felt more like himself. He could almost forget about yesterday, about the current running across his arms like playful mice, and the image of Baek and Jihyun’s face when he said he was leaving.

Almost.

It also helped that he was wearing his own clothes. Tight black ripped jeans that hung low on his hips, a white and black striped loose shirt that swallowed his frame and hid his hands while his black hair was fluffy and messy. He even managed to grab his chocker in his haste from yesterday and added it to go with his black, worn out combat boots.

After drying his hair with the towel, adding liner to his eyes, he glanced in the mirror and stared back at his reflection. He looked a bit worse for wear. Dark circles reigned under his eyes, which looked forlorn and darker than usual. His usually puffy cheeks sunk in a bit, skin on the ashen side from stress, and he hated it.

Jimin felt as if he was dead. Hell, he looked as if he was dead. Sighing, he closed his eyes, searching his blood, noting the buzz that was always there, the way he could sense the hum of the lights, the wires under his feet, and the energy throughout the room.

Before, he would avoid this at all costs. Shove it away, pretend it was never happening to him, but now it was like he couldn’t. He felt like a child again, curious over every little thing now that he knows he won’t be scolded for it.

In so many ways, the feeling of the purple lightening skittering across his skin felt good. Warm and familiar, like it could never leave him, but in other ways it felt uncontrollable. Dangerous and volatile. He hated that part of it, because he knew it was true.

He remembered when he was in eighth grade science, doing a in-school project on electricity with light bulbs and simple wires. He remembers how curious and excited he was, because well… how could he not be when he sensed the power. The energy?

How could he forget the fact that every time he touched a light bulb, it sprang to life brighter than if it was connected to the wires? How could he forget how it grew brighter and brighter between his fingers until it exploded and the teachers warning about how dangerous electricity really is.

Electricity is one of the strongest forms of energy. It is dangerous, unpredictable, and it can kill. A single charge of a strong enough current velocity of electricity can not only harm you, but kill you. Don’t ever forget that, kids.

Jimin was sure his teacher would be very proud to know he hasn’t forgotten, and he doesn’t think he ever will.

How can he? But now he has a name. A place. A way of feeling like he wasn’t alone anymore. After seeing the force of Tae’s power this morning, it made him feel more at ease to know that he truly wasn’t alone. He didn’t have to hide anymore.

“I don’t have to be afraid anymore…” he whispered, lifting his hands and pulling down the long sleeves of his shirt to stare at his annoyingly small hands. Like usual, purple lightening was dancing between his fingers, dancing to a song only the current knew.

The lights of the bathroom flickered, almost begging to join the dancing purple light so Jimin hastily drops his hands and calms his raging, playful blood with simple breathing into the flickering halts.

“Spark… a little ironic really,” Jimin muttered to himself, catching his eyes in the mirror one last time before plastering a half smile on his face, ducking out of the bathroom to greet Soonshim in the hall.

The white German Shepard, despite being Tae’s dog and quite unhappy about the unannounced guests this morning to which he has been protesting by hiding out in Yoongi’s room- much to the white haired male's annoyance- he had taken quite a lieking to Jimin and often was found fast asleep on his bed during the day or hovering near him during dinner.

Though… that could because he slips Soonshim scraps but he will never amount to it. Outloud.

“Hey buddy. Still mad at Tae?” Jimin swore he heard the dog huff as he licked at Jimin’s hand, letting the male scratch behind his ears and fuss with his white fur. A smile, a true one, blossomed across Jimin’s features. “Don’t worry, big guy. You are still Tae’s number one.”

The dog licks at his hand once more before yipping and turning to slip inside Jimin’s room. A laugh bubbled up from inside his belly as he stood, straightening a bit, before running a hand through his messy black hair.

A wince tugged at his features. Black hair of his father. Of his brother he left behind. He never really liked it, but he never found the appeal of dying it. Not until now. His mind drifted to Hobi’s hair, Tae’s hair… even Namjoon’s and Jin’s. Yoongi too.

Do all Spark’s dye their hair or what?

It was something he was going to ask Jin about. He felt like he needed a change. A way to make himself different. So when he looked in the mirror he wouldn’t see the scared, cowardly, Jimin, but maybe someone else. Someone stronger.

No longer willing to dwell, Jimin ambled past his bedroom where Soonshim has made himself at home on his bed and traveled lightly down the stars where the voices of Jin and Yoongi were speaking.

“Come on, Yoongi. It’s the only way he is going to learn,” Jin stated firmly. A scoff could be heard to follow, causing Jimin to pause by the end of the stairs, hands clenched tightly around the railing.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know they were speaking about him.

“By throwing into a ring of other fucking Spark’s and saying ‘have at it, kid’? No fucking way, Jin. I don’t feel like becoming bacon. Not today, not ever,” Yoongi snapped back, his deep, gruff harsh and bit cold. Jimin felt a sting, but kept quiet. Why was he even surprised by this point? “The kid won’t last two seconds out there. He knows nothing of what he is capable of.”

“Oh and telling him ‘feel the emotion, grasp it, and let it go’ is gonna help? This isn’t Frozen, Yoongi. He needs experience! He needs the real thing and not some half-ass explanation of his gift,” Jin replied back, sounding exhausted already by the conversion. Jimin but his lip, looking down.

He wasn’t completely sure what they were talking about. Ring of other Sparks? He didn’t really know what made his… power work so how would that help? Then again, Jin telling him to feel his way around didn’t sound very helpful either.

How else was he going to learn? He already made up his mind that he was going to learn. There wasn’t anything that was going to hold him back anymore. He needed to control it. So he can finally be with brother… Baekhee… without being afraid.

“Spark’s Training is some serious shit, Seokjin. You know this. They don’t play around and it is more than just showing off. We are there to learn to fight, to control our powers, and learn how to defeat other Sparks. Sending the brat in there without even a warning? Might as well give him to Iron Clad,” Yoongi snapped. Jimin jumped when he heard the sound of a hand coming down on the counter, the sharp thud echoing across the staircase.

“Yes, I know it’s stupid, but Yoongi, think about it. If you have a power that is that uncontrollable, based all around how you are feeling… thrust into something you don’t know. Wouldn’t facing it one on one be better? Experience the emotion and what comes with it so you can harness it and learn?” Jin persistsed.

Yoongi fell quiet. Jimin couldn’t argue with that logic, despite the small voice in the back of his mind shouting ‘are you insane?’ because honestly he felt like it sometimes. But Jin was right. He knew nothing and how better to learn then to do it.

“What does Joon-ah think about this?” Yoongi finally asked.

“He agrees, but to start small. A simple game. Not a full Spark Training. Something like… a water gun fight. Between me, Tae, Hobi, and him.” Silence for a few moments. “The next Spark Training is next month anyway. Good time for at least some practice.”

“Just know… you guys are gonna be great bacon,” Yoongi finally resigned. A cheerful sound could be heard from Jin, followed by a grunting noise. “I am not your child, Jin. Don’t baby me.”

“Yoongi…”

“This is still a bad idea.” Jimin could understand where Yoongi was coming from, but at the same time knew that Jin was right. It was a mix of good and bad really. A sigh unlodged itself from his throat as he unclenched his hands from the railing, somewhat relieved that there wasn’t any marks.

“Well… Jimin doesn’t think so.” Jimin froze, panic rushing through his veins until he remember that Jin has probably know he has been there from the beginning. Stupid telepaths… that’s so annoying. “I know it is. You can come out now, by the way.”

Red creeped up Jimin’s cheeks as he slipped out of the stairwell and into the living room where Yoongi was standing with his shoulders hunched, white hair damp from a recent shower. He was wearing simple dark grey jeans, converse, and a black shirt with a plaid shirt on top. His dark eyes were lined with kohl, a dark look in his eye as he looked up
and caught sight of the smaller black haired male.

Jin was dressed in a light blue turtleneck sweater, his jeans a simple and light, with vans and his glasses perched on his nose. He wore no makeup, but honestly the male didn’t need it. Jimin tried really, really hard to not hate him for that- lord knows he looks like a ugly troll without makeup.

“I um… I don’t usually eavesdrop on people! I swear… I just… I don’t-” Jimin started, cheeks heating up further when he realized he keeps getting caught by Jin. He normally really doesn’t- he never had a reason to, but he doesn’t want to be left in the dark.

Jin, however, didn’t seem bothered as he waved his hand and shushed his further comment with his boisterous laugh. “Don’t be frightened all the time. If I was in your shoes, I would probably do the same. We were talking anything bad, Jimin. No need to be so uptight.”

Unsure of how to respond, Jimin merely pressed his lips together and nodded, but he felt out of place and certainly didn’t like the feeling of Yoongi’s stare prickling at his skin, like he was trying to decide why Jimin was even there.

After yesterday, he was really hoping the pale male had opened up a bit, but basing on the stare or the twist of his lips suggested otherwise and he wanted to ignore the pang of disappointment and sadness. He wasn’t about to whine about it, but he was grateful for the male.

Yoongi was there for him yesterday. Held him despite constantly complaining about becoming bacon under the Empower’s touch and even comforted him. He was there for him, and that blindsided Jimin.

But he was definitely going to take it as a step in the right direction. There was something intriguing about Min Yoongi. How he seemed so cold and harsh, snapped at anyone who showed him affection and yet showing in tiny ways he cares.

Like how he saw him helping Jin the meal, or when Hobi was dancing moving a piece of trash out of his way he didn’t seem to notice so he wouldn’t fall. He put on his cold persona and kept people at a distance, but you would have to be more than blind to not notice the affectionate way he watches the youngers, or how he smiles a little at Jin.
Min Yoongi was a mystery, one Jimin wanted to unravel, and he wasn’t even sure why. Once again, he was constantly being degraded, being called a brat or a kid, or him just being a asshole in general to him.

I must be a kinky fucker if I secretly enjoy it then, Jimin thought to himself, not even bothering to stop the snort that echoed through his throat from his thoughts. Jin’s eyes widened before he nearly choked on his salvia. Oops…

“Park Jimin!” Jin wheezed, hand raising to playfully smack Jimin’s shoulder, who, in turn, broke out into giggles as Jin shook his head, clicking his teeth. Yoongi rolled his eyes, not really looking bothered by being left out. “Between you and Joonie… aish…”

“What? I didn’t say anything!” Jimin said cutely, flashing a smile towards Jin. He was surprised with himself, how simply he fell into comfortability with the elder male. Maybe it was because he couldn’t exactly hide. Not when Jin knew every passing thought.

Why not dive in head first?

Jin paused a moment, blinking a second, and Jimin flushed when realized he caught those thoughts too. But instead of backing away from it like his burning cheeks suggested, he only casted a small smile towards Jin.

You are a very good friend.

Jin looked touched a moment before he reached out and pulled Jimin into a tight, warm hug. The scent of vanilla and detergent instantly flooded his senses, calming him as he snuggled into the much larger male and for once appreciated his height.

“Call me Hyung,” Jin whispered, pulling back to place a soft, affectionate kiss on Jimin’s head. Jimin couldn’t stop it. He broke into a huge grin, tears stinging his eyes but he refused to let them fall as he nodded briskly.

“Okay, Hyung.”

“Can I go vomit now?” Yoongi sighed, eyes carefully locked elsewhere as he shifted from foot to foot, hands limp by his side. Jimin scampered out Jin’s hold to approach Yoongi, who arched a perfect- Jesus Christ is this man a god?- brow that made his pale, porcelain features look extravagant despite the sass.

Shoving away his nerves, he bows his head in thanks. “Thank you, Yoongi Hyung, for yesterday and what you did. It means a lot to me.” Yoongi blinked twice, seeming to be surprised. Jin had a smirk on his face, clearly enjoying this, while the pale male huffed and brushed past him.

“Yeah, whatever, brat. I am going to go sleep now,” Yoongi breathed and slipped out of the room without even a glance back. Normally, Jimin would be offended and tiffed, but this time, he merely smiled back.

That was just Yoongi.

“Come on, let’s grab breakfast and start the water gun fight,” Jin said, turning on his heel to disappear into the kitchen. Jimin, feeling content for the first time in awhile, agrees and follows.

 

******

 

“No fucking way!” Jimin gasped, staring at Jin like all the voices in his mind has finally made him lose it. Tae was watching from a tree, which he managed to climb up to a low hanging branch without even thinking.

Jungkook was below, leaning against the rough bark with his ankles and arms crossed, watching with dark eyes while Soonshim stood nearby, rolling happily in the grass. Hobi was already in the forest, water gun in hand and a encouraging smile on his face.

They were standing just outside the edge of the group trees that apparently went on for a mile. The heat of Busan was filtering through the canopy of trees, casting shadows across the grassy ground littered with pine straw and leaves.

Tae was wearing nothing but shorts, Nike shoes, and a white tank top, the heat of the day already apparent on his face where his lilac hair was plastered to the sides of his face. Jungkook was even wearing shorts and plain white shirt.

Hell, they put him in black shorts and a black shirt with some of Yoongi’s sneakers for this. He felt so out of place, holding a loaded water gun while staring at Jin- also wearing the same attire- and blinked twice.

“I am not going to do it! I… I hurt people!” Jimin shouted, hands shaking as he thrust the water gun out of his hands. Jin sighed. Jungkook’s face pinched, a scowl twisting his features like the words irked him but he kept silent.

“Remember what I told Yoongi-ah earlier? Don’t worry about hurting us, Jiminie-ah. This is the only way to learn. Use your power. Let it go for once.”

“Frozen!” Tae called out excitedly from on top of the branch, beginning to belt out ‘let it go’ without even a second thought. A small smile wormed it’s way on Jimin’s face, the tension between his shoulders easing a bit.

“Be Elsa, okay? I’m serious. Hobi, TaeTae, and I know how to handle ourselves. We won’t hold back, and neither should you. Remember, the point of the game is to shoot down as many people as you can. The only rule is when shot, you’re out. If you are hurt, we will call a Mender.” Jin searched Jimin’s pale features, taking in the panic reflecting in his
eyes. “I’m serious. Use it.”

“Yeah, Chim Chim! You can do it!” Tae called out, rectangular smile brightening up the day. Jimin breathed in slowly before nodding, feeling the way his heart jackknifed into his throat. “See you out there!”

Tae leaped down from the branch, landing in front of Jungkook, who leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the lilac haired male before letting him disappear into the forest, Soonshim following excitedly behind.

Jin gave one more pat to Jimin’s shoulder before he too, followed Tae into the forest. Jimin felt his legs shake, mouth run dry at the idea of what they proposed, but he had agreed and damn it if he wasn’t going to back down.

“Hyung,” Jungkook spoke up, drawing Jimin’s panicked attention towards the forest towards the younger male, whose eyes were sad, face pale, and sympathy glistening. His heart warmed, however, at being referred to as ‘hyung’. “It’s okay. They want this.”

“I… don’t wanna hurt them.” Jungkook offered a bitter smile at the whispered words, strained with emotion, like he couldn’t completely understand it. “I… I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Then do it. A power like yours is needed, Jimin Hyung,” Jungkook replied softly, eyes casted on the ground as his fists clenched by his side. For a moment, the fifteen year old boy appeared to be much, much older. Ancient and withdrawn.

Pain doesn’t respect age, Jimin.

“Jungkook-ah… what is your power?” Jimin asked. Jungkook froze, breathe halting in his lungs while his shoulders became so tense, Jimin briefly wondered if it hurt. He wished he could shove the words back down his throat and never bring them up again. “Shit, I’m sorry! I shouldn-”

“Hyung.” Jimin fell quiet under the soft tone of Jungkook, who merely offered a weak smile. “One day I will tell you, but right now, I will just say this. Not all powers are made for good and some shouldn’t even exist at all.” Jungkook tutted his chin towards the forest. “Go. It’s time to start.”

Biting his lip, Jimin nodded sheepishly, but the words were ringing in his head as he turned towards the forest, heart racing and hands sweaty and thrumming with nervous power. But before he could force himself to move, he turned back to Jungkook.

“Kook-ah, whatever it is, if you exist, then it has a reason to exist too. It just may take some time to figure out why,” Jimin promised, flashing a quick smile over his shoulder before disappearing into the foliage before he can hear an answer.

He didn’t want to mess up the slowly growing relationship by saying something to offend him, but he wanted the boy to know he was at least glad he was here. But now wasn’t the time to think about that.

He clutched the water gun close, hands trembling with the force of the lightning skittering across his hands like frightened rats as he darted his eyes across the underbrush, breath heavy as he stared in fear.

Jin had warmed him that they weren’t going to hold back, and that their powers were going to be in play. There could be some hand-to-hand combat involved. This was more than a game. If he was going to play, he was gonna have to learn the rules.

The idea was scary- that Tae, the animal whisperer, and Hobi, the emotion sensor and manipulator, and Jin, the telepath, was out there. Watching. Waiting. Seeing what he will do. His heart felt like it was going to explode, breathing uneven as he jumped at every little sound.

There was so much running in his brain. Plans, actions, and fears. What if he hurt someone? What if someone comes behind him and uses their power? So many ‘what if’s’ and he was getting irritated with himself.

“I am not helpless…” Jimin muttered to himself, scolding the part of him that felt like a scared child, wanting to hold his mommy’s hand. “Use my power… use my power… Hobi is an empath… Jin a telepath… but how far does that range go? Then Tae… animals…”

His mind was running a mile a minute. He was at a disadvantage, he knew it. They could sense him, but he couldn’t sense them. But then again, neither could Tae, but it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to know he could send out animals to scout for him.

He had to find a way to sense them. Otherwise he was a stranded duck.

Jimin slipped behind a bush, slowing his chaotic thoughts as he went over everything he knows about electricity, lightning, and currents. He knew their was two types- static and current electricity, but how does that help?

He felt so out of depth. Heat was ramming into him, sweat pouring from his forehead and shirt sticking to his back as his stomach twisted with nerves and the purple lightening fizzing out like dead soda.

“Maybe create an electrical field?” He mumbled to himself, setting down the water gun and glaring at the ground as he mind ran a thousand miles a second. He was seriously wishing he paid more attention in eighth grade science and asked more questions.

“I just… need a electrical charge right? Can’t be hard…” It was really hard, but he wasn’t about to sit around and do nothing. Biting his lip and glancing at his hand, he willed energy there. But did anything happen?

Of fucking course not.

Jimin groaned, stomping his foot as childish resentment flooded his system and he growled. Why can’t anything work the way it was supposed to? Why doesn’t everything have to be so hard?

Calming himself, he raised his hand and once again willed energy there, this time letting his annoyance drift over him. For a second, he felt the usual tingle and buzz before it fizzed out again.

“I should have known- when I actually wanna use you, you say ‘fuck you’ and fizzle out. Thanks a lot,” Jimin snapped to no one in particular. Anger ripped through his veins, turning his vision red as he let out a feral yell and slammed his foot into the ground.

His skin was prickling with heat, bursting with raw anger, outrage, resentment towards his uselessness, he was just so angry. Why couldn’t anything go right? Why couldn’t he prove himself? They called him a Spark, and a powerful one, so why can’t he back it up when he actually needs to use it?

Jimin hates the weakness, the fear, and the submissive way his father always made him feel. He hated how his would crackle and how he always felt disgusting because of it.

The fear of Jihyun, or Baekhee finding out.

The burst of rage sent his skin into a frenzy as he cried out again, slamming his hand onto the ground. Purple lightning shot across the ground, the grass burning and dying instantly as the energy raced past his arms, into his fingertips, and cascading across the grass.

The sudden rage seemed to leave him too.

“You’re too uncontrolled. You’re emotions are off balance. Switching from one to another- so easy to twist and let you become distracted.” Jimin jumped when he felt his feet being kicked out from underneath him, sending him straight to the ground, Hobi’s hand instantly wrapping around his throat, but loose enough as he stared wide eyed up at him. “The reason you couldn’t do anything is because you are too afraid to harm someone. You are thinking with your head too much and not giving in. You put this cage around that power, Jimin, and you need to unlock it.”

Jimin opened his mouth to answer, to say something, but instead Hobi tightened his hold around his neck, cutting a bit off his air flow off while his mouth tightened, eyes pinched. Panic began to flood his system as he grabbed Hobi’s arm, staring widely, feeling helpless.

“You’re emotions are what do it, Jimin, but you’re holding yourself back. I can feel your power, just like I can feel your fear. The hatred for yourself. The distrust of your own body. For once in your life, Jimin, let your emotions rule you. Show me how you feel!” Hobi shouted, tightening his hold. Jimin floundered, lungs beginning to ache, chest feeling like he was about to explode.

He could feel it. The familiar rush of heat, the blast as his hands came alive. The lightening was hungry, eager to protect its master. It wanted to be released with a clash. Fear of hurting Hobi was keeping caged as he kicked his legs, banging weakly at Hobi’s hands.

“I won’t manipulate your feelings like earlier, Jimin! Fucking let go!” Hobi squeezed harder. Tears were running down Jimin’s face, desperation mixing with his burning desire for air. He needs air. He can’t breathe. “You’re weak. Pathetic. No wonder you left your brother. No wonder you hurt them. You refuse to acknowledge your own feelings.”
Jimin wasn’t sure what finally made him give in. The words that clashed harshly against his heart, cutting it to pieces with a cold blade at the image of his brother’s face appeared in his mind, or the way his body flared to life, denying the male any more time to steal his oxygen.

But he let out a cry as he gripped Hobi harder, slamming all the burning energy into his body that sent him flying. Jimin gasped for air, throat and eyes burning as he struggled to breathe in air.

Hobi crashed into a tree, his clothing not so good, hair sizzled and scorched. His face was pinched with agony, clutching his hand that had a shape of a hand print scorched across. Spider Web like patterns were etched into his skin where blood vessels busted. His body was utterly still, chest unevenly rising and falling.

Cold ran through his veins, stopping the excited hum of his cells as he stared at the unmoving male in utter terror. A scream lodged in his throat, tears spilling across his cheeks. But before a sound could be let loose, the sight of Namjoon running towards them, two males he had never seen before following behind.

The first one was incredibly tall, with black hair gelled upwards. He was korean, that much was obvious, and his dark eyes light and but there was almost a broodiness to the male. He seemed to know Namjoon well, remaining close by as they ran.

The second would be considered small, but he was taller than the first one and had a charming, playful grin on his face, not seeming to be bothered by much. His light brown hair framed his angular face, and dark eyes bright with charm.

“Minho, Hoseok!” Namjoon order. The charming one suddenly fell serious, converse slapping the grass as he ran over to the limp form while Namjoon dashed over to Jimin, who curled in on himself, a sob caught in his throat. “Jimin-ah, it’s alright. It’s okay. Everything is gonna be fine.”

He reached out to touch Jimin, but the smaller male only shied away, shaking his head as he trembled. Jin and Tae suddenly appeared, Tae having a busted lip, blood crusted across his chin and lips while a bruise was across his forehead.

Jin didn’t look much better, obviously showing that they had been fighting each other earlier. A bite mark from probably Soonshim across his wrist that he was holding close supporting that idea. Tae’s eyes widened when he took in Hobi and then Jimin, before rushing over and falling to his knees beside Jimin.

“You did great, Chim!” Tae promised, easily reaching out to stroke his hair. Jimin flinched, opening his mouth to protest, but Tae wouldn’t let up as he gently carded his hand through his hair. “Hobi Hyung wanted you to react like that. It was why we agreed to letting him handle you.”

“Tae-ah is right, Jimin-ah,” Jin remarked, settling next to him as Namjoon smiled gently, showing off dimples. Jimin trembled as he blinked at the three of them. “We knew this was gonna happen. Which is why we asked for Minho and Taemin to come. Minho is a Mender.”

“Mender?” Jimin croaked, voice hoarse and cracked pitifully. He flinched when pain flared in his abused throat. Jin scowled, reaching out to touch his throat with a displeased look. Tae nodded briskly, fluffing his sweaty hair a bit in play.

“Menders. They are healing Spark’s. They have the ability to reach in one's body and mend the broken vessels, bones, and alike. They are the most treasured Sparks!” Tae explained lightly, giggling a bit. Jimin, no longer in the mood to try and talk, nodded wordlessly.

“Jimin-ah,” Hobi spoke, breaking through Tae and Jin to smile and kneel next to him. Jimin broke out in a relieved sigh as he threw his arms around the male who stumbled and fell on his ass at the sudden weight but he laughed and held him back. “It’s okay. I’m proud of you. You did it.”

Jimin wasn’t sure what to say. What were you supposed to say? So he kept quiet, just cradled in the man’s arms as he cried, relieved he hadn’t really hurt him and let the male laugh lightly and hold him like they have known each other forever.

In many ways they have. And Jimin was grateful for the male, because on a level, he finally understood something about his power. Even if it is powerful, and emotion based, he was choosing to not harm. He held back. He controlled it, it didn’t control him.

Namjoon patted his head, a little chuckle resounding as Jimin’s tears dried, leaving him silent in the male’s lap as Jin rubbed his back, ever the mother, and Namjoon patted his head and Tae was lying across his legs.

Family… they remind me of family.

“We are a family, Jimin-ah. Now, Minho, get your ass fucking over here and fix my Jiminie!” Jin ordered, his hand leaving his back as he glared at the two who were watching with slight amusement across their faces.

The one called Minho clicked his tongue, pushing himself off the tree. “Bossy as usual, I see,” he remarked, but approached easily and kneeled next to Jimin who eyed him curiously. Minho only beamed. “You’re adorable. Hold still, cutie. This is gonna tickle.”

Before Jimin could question it, Minho placed his hand on his neck. A odd sensation raced through his skin, chilling his warm, irritated skin, and gave it the feeling like a feather grazing over it. He couldn’t help it- a giggle escaped as he shrank in on himself to stop the sensation.

Minho’s smile broadened. “Aren’t you just adorable? Jin, where do you find these cute things?” Jin scoffed and rolled his eyes, while the other male, merely groaned and rolled his eyes. “Taeminie, don’t you find him absolutely adorable?”

“Will you stop flirting and just finish already? Kibum wants us back,” the male replied dully, his voice a bit higher than Jimin was expecting. Minho pouted, the sensation from his hand slowing until gone as he pulls it away.

“Fine, see you guys later. Sorry for rushing off. You all good Tae? Jin?” Minho asked, turning to glance at the other two who merely shrugged and waved him off. He smiled brightly and turned back to Jimin. “Sorry to leave so soon, cutie. We will see each other soon.”

Before Jimin could answer, Taemin scoffed, grabbed his ear and then…

Poof.

“Normally, I would say something about stop drinking, smoking weed, or something, but I haven’t and honestly, I have had weirder days,” Jimin sighed, staring at the place where the two just were.

Silence had fallen over the small group before laughter broke out among them. It felt good.

Chapter Text

Sleep was distant. It was tickling at the edges of his mind, cornering him, before skipping away and leaving him to lie and stare up at the ceiling as the hour dwindled away. His body was heavy, yet it wanted to stretch. The desire to feel sweat, his muscles burning, and the way his body moved to the beat was so tempting…

But another part of him reminded him this wasn’t his house and he wasn’t sure what the rules were or where he could even dance without waking anyone up. He can’t exactly go to the dance studio all the way in town- the house was out past Busan.

He was restless. His limbs were tangled in the sheets, mind running over the course of the day. The way the power felt through his system, the way the anger that Hoseok gave him and how scared he had been when Hoseok wasn’t moving.

It made his stomach twist.

Sighing to himself, Jimin shoved his body up as he stared absently at the dark room, which was beginning to seem more and more like his room. The desk now had little drawings, and his clothes hung up in the closet.

The room even started to diminish in the scent it had and start taking on his own scent, which calmed him greatly. The scent of strawberries reminded him of home and the shampoo that Jihyun and him share.

Slipping out of bed, Jimin grabbed his shirt and slipped it over his head, not really caring about the fact he was only wearing his dark blue boxers and oversized long sleeved shirt as he slipped out of the room and into the utterly silent hallway.

It was pitch black, practically, and made it seem almost menacing since there was almost always sound that traveled among the house. Having it so silent startled the male but he shook it off, ignoring the chill of his bare feet on the wood, as he drifted down the stairs.

Everything was dark, but he kept going till he reached the back side door and managed to wrangle it open before stepping into the cold night air. His breath fogged a second, reminding him for a split second that September was almost here. The thought startled him.

Soon he will be eighteen. That was mind blowing in itself and honestly, it was too late at night to truly think about that.

“Jimin?” A voice called, seemingly surprise. Jimin jumped, heart catapulting into his throat as he turned on a dime, lightening fizzling ot through his hands to light up the night and cast Hoseok in shadows as he ducked and barely missed the rays. “Oh shit, sorry.”

“Hobi?” Jimin hissed, hand clutching his chest where his heart was slamming against his rib cage a mile a minute, the panic slowly ebbing away from his veins as his blood settled at the sight of the familiar grin that brightened the night. “Shit, you fucking scared me.”

“Never would have known,” Hobi laughed, his smile turning a bit bigger as he stepped out of the shadows and casted into the dull moonlight that brightened his odd colored hair. He was wearing sweats, a shirt, and his feet covered in white socks, but otherwise looked ready for bed. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. No one usually comes out here at night.”
Jimin nodded, swallowing thickly and pushing away the rest of the fear as his hand dropped back to his side, calming himself. Hobi offered another little smile, stepping further into the grass where he crossed his legs and lowered himself to the ground, eyes locked on the night sky.

Licking his dry lips, casting unsure looks towards the door and back at Hobi, he wondered if he was intruding or if he should have even left his bed in the first place. He wasn’t planning on running into anyone- certainly not dressed for it either- but he felt awkward and slightly afraid to move.

Sensing his emotions, Hobi glanced over his shoulder. “Jimin, stop it. I won’t bite. You can join me if you want. You’re restless anyway,” Hobi stated, patting the dewy grass next to him. Sighing to himself, he made his way over and joined the Empath Spark. “See? Not so bad.”

Silence fell over them. It wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t all the way comfortable either. Jimin sat tense, staring absently at the dark trees hanging over them from earlier that day. Hobi’s eyes seemed to be locked on the heavens, face neutral.

It was odd to see him without a smile. A tick started in his throat, the same place where Hobi was choking him earlier, urging him to use his gifts. His nerves flared back to life as he flicked his eyes towards the male, curiously wondering if he was alright.

“I am sorry about earlier, Jimin,” Hobi sighed, tearing his eyes away from the sky to finally meet Jimin’s gaze, who squeaked a bit as he looked away, cheeks burning. Hobi offered a little smile. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable with me, but you needed to learn. And I won’t hold back. Not now. Not ever.”

“Oh…”

“Listen, Jimin, I planned that from when Jin-Hyung mentioned it to me. We needed to push you- how else will you learn? And I know you trust me the least. I can’t say I blame you.” Hobi gave a dark chuckle, lifting his shoulders in a jerky shrug before dropping them. “I won’t sugar coat it either. We need you.”

“Need me?” Jimin whispered, frowning a tad as he scrunched his legs closer, trying to be as small as possible. Hobi gave a brief nod, looking back at the sky, but this time, there was only sadness there. “For what?”

“We’re losing. Against Iron Clad.” Jimin bit his lip, staring at the blades of grass. He wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t even sure what Iron Clad was. Not completely. He wasn’t sure what Hobi and the others were either. “I know you don’t get it. You wouldn’t get it. And Jin hasn’t been trying to fully get you to understand our situation. It’s why Yoongi dislikes you so much.”

Well that hurt. It stung Jimin deep in his heart as he squeezed his eyes shut and willed his breathing to keep being even- like that mattered. Hobi probably already knows how he feels. It was stupid. It wasn’t hard to guess that the white haired male disliked him, but hearing it hurt anyway.

“Iron Clad kills, Jimin. They kill for no other reason than because they like the fact that they have to the power to.” JImin’s breath lodged in his throat, making it hard to breathe. “Do you really think we learn to control our powers for shits and giggles and maybe a good laugh?” Hobi asked. Jimin bit his lip. “Jin hasn’t been fully honest. He didn’t want to scare you. Neither did Joonie, but after today I feel you have the right to know. Sparks like us, like this group here, we fight back. We go in, we try and we stop them before they go too far in. That is our ‘normal’ life, Jimin.”

“Fight back?” He felt a little bit dizzy.

“Sparks won’t live if there is a war. Our numbers are too small. Iron Clad thinks powers will be a enough but they are wrong. There is too many Carnals. Too many normal people and military. Sparks will lose. If Iron Clad succeeds in outing us, the world will destroy itself. People turn against one another- is he a Spark? Is my daughter a Spark?- and everything will be thrown up. Sparks will be killed, humans will be killed, and the fragile government will fall.”

It seemed extreme. Too extreme. It wasn’t wrong though. The world had the bad habit of using or slaughtering anything or anyone that didn’t fit the mold society created and people who can do things like Jimin and Hobi would certainly count.

The words he was saying echoed in his ear, hollowing him out as he stared wide eyed at the male whose face was pinched, a great sadness decorating his eyes where it had made it’s home for a very long time. A determination that scared him.

Breathe seemed short as Jimin gulped, clutching the fabric of his shirt in his hands as he licked his lips, trying to gain them some moisture.

“I’m telling you this because I have felt your emotions. Played with them. In a way, I know you, and you’re the kind of man who once he sees, sees the wrongs of Iron Clad, he will be trapped here.” Hobi ran a hand through his hair, turning back away. “Trapped here like Jin was. Like I was.”

“Hobi?” Jimin mumbled, blinking a bit. A sigh ran through his nose as he turned back to the younger male. “What do you mean?”

“How do you think we came to be, Jimin? We weren’t all friends- hell, we probably wouldn’t even be friends if it wasn’t for the fact we need each other- before this started,” Hobi replied simply, snorting in amusement. “You aren’t trapped here physically, but just attached. My family was killed by Iron Clad. My father was a Spark. My mom too. But my older sister? She was human and yet they slaughtered all of them for no other reason than they were against them.”

A gasp tore through him at the words that hung like heavy fog in the air as he stared at the elder. Hobi used his hand to wipe at his damp cheeks, sniffling a little at the confession that shuddered through Jimin like a sword through his gut.

“You will never know how lucky you are. To have your family. An option to go back to.” Hobi breathed slowly and shook his head, the tears clearing a bit. “I can’t have that. None of us in there. It’s why we are here. We aren’t just fighting for normalcy anymore but decency. Iron Clad are bloodthirsty assholes and the rest of us are tired.”

“What does this have to do with me? Why are you telling me this?” Jimin asked carefully, voice surprisingly steady despite the fact he felt anything but. He felt like the world was being rattled and the energy he always seemed to carry diminishing.

“Joon may not say it- hell, Jin either- but they are desperate. We are desperate. A power like yours? If you can control it, harness it, we might actually have a chance because we are losing,” Hobi admitted. “It’s why Joon sent me on recon on you. Why I followed you for so long. Why we kept you. You’re power is too valuable. Normally we would have sent you to a safe house, or given you other options. But we needed you. So Joon decided to only give you the option to go back while reminding you that going home is dangerous.”

“So… I’m being used,” Jimin stated calmly. Hobi huffed out a quiet laugh.

“If you are, then we all are,” Hobi countered gently. Jimin glanced back at him simply. “We are all in this together. Have been from the beginning. It seems weird, and even though I just met you, you are one of us now. Family. Family till the end.”

Warmth flooded Jimin, listening to the heartfelt words that touched his heart. He felt the barrier that had been up has finally melted, whatever was keeping the distance, because he understood the elder now.

A smile touched his lips as he leaned over, pressing his shoulder lightly against the odd colored hairs male, who gave a startled jump as he looked at the raven haired in surprise. Jimin only smiled sweetly and kept leaning. The elder never moved away.

“Hey, Hyung,” Jimin called, cutting a glance to test the waters. Hobi brightened, looking over at the younger with bright eyes. It made Jimin’s smile grow. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

Hobi nodded, flushing a bit, before looking back at the night sky. Jimin followed suit, soaking up the moment, and for the first time since the incident earlier, relaxed. Muscles he never knew were tense loosened, uncoiling themselves from their tense positions, and let him sag against the elder who simply put an arm around him to support him.

Jihyun… I hope you’re alright… I hope that one day you can forgive me, or just wait a little longer… Baek… I’m so sorry. But I will make it right. I will make everything alright again.

 

******

 

Jimin headed back downstairs, his late night adventure causing his muscles to groan with protest at being awake again at eight a.m. and moving around. Exhaustion was weighing him down and even when he shuffled into the dining room, he was seriously considering downing the entire coffee machine.

Jimin wasn’t even sure he had made it into the dining, but by some miracle he did. Heavy eyes managed to land on his seat, targeting it, before plopping down heavily and instantly laying his head across the cool wood, soothing his warm cheek.

“Well, don’t you look deader than a door nail,” the white haired Spark smirked, appearing around the corner and taking in the slumped form of Jimin, who merely groaned in response, too tired to really argue.

“Hey look, Hyung, someone else who can fall asleep at the table,” Jungkook piped up as he waltzed into the room, Tae’s hand clasped firmly in his as the lilac haired bounced in, smile in place and way too bright for this early in the morning.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, flashing the finger towards the younger male who only cackled. Jimin hasn’t lived here long, but he has already learned that Jungkook doesn’t laugh. He cackles. Like those witches from old Disney movies from America.

And Jin Hyung? He just sounds likes a dying windshield wiper.

“Hyung! Hyung!” Tae called, slipping out of Jungkook’s hold to bounce over to Yoongi and beam brightly. “You look sleepy. Did you not sleep last night?” Tae leaned close to Yoongi’s face, who looked completely unperturbed, and just let the bouncy lilac study his features.

“I was working on things. Nothing big,” Yoongi muttered, gently nudging the younger male away who, for once, got the hint, and scampered over to Jimin, draping himself over the raven haired in a morning hug.

“Minie! Good morning!” Tae called happily. “Why so sleepy? You look like Yoongi Hyung.”

“The jokes around here really aren’t funny,” said male spoke up. Jimin bit back a tired smile at the instant reply. He shrugged and didn’t lift his head from the table. Was he drooling? Probably. Sleep would be fantastic. “I guess the brat stayed up way past his bedtime.”

“And I guess you have been perpetually waking up on the wrong side of the bed,” Jimin retorted, peeling open his eyes to send a glare towards the male. Yoongi lifted a brow, shrugged, and took another long sip of coffee.

Tae giggled, which was a interesting sound considering his deep voice contrasted against the cuteness of the giggle, and sat down at the table, Jungkook settling next to him with a loving smile.

Hobi wandered in next, not seeming bothered by his late except for the slight dark circles that have made their home on the male’s honey skin as he spoke quietly with Namjoon, who looked like a wreck.

Jimin’s eyes flew open at the sight of the silver haired leader, whose hair was a mess. It stuck up from a hand running through it one to many times, dark circles had created a full colony under his eyes that were dark purple and black.

Chapped lips, pale, almost pasty skin from lack of sleep showed through on his features. His dark eyes looked dazed and crusted with exhaustion. A part of Jimin wondered how the hell he was even walking in a straight line when he realized he wasn’t and was nearly running into every piece of furniture available in the room.

Hobi just barely managed to catch the leader’s arm before he walked smack into the table and sent it crashing to the ground. Namjoon sighed when the younger male gently pulled him back with a amused smile.

“Thanks Hobi Hyung,” Namjoon muttered, all but falling into his seat. The male nodded and glanced over at Jimin, offering a bright smile, walking into the kitchen and easily returning with three cups of coffee. He first handed one to Namjoon who looked like he was in ecstasy before handing one to Jimin.

“Thanks Hyung.” Jimin smiled. Hobi nodded, ruffling Jimin’s messy hair, before he walked over to his seat while the scent of food made their respective stomachs growl with want. Jimin all but chugged his hot coffee, relishing the taste and wondered how he managed to make it here in that state.

“Doenjang soup,” Hobi moaned, sniffing the air that was filling with spices and the scent of the familiar breakfast. Namjoon looked towards the kitchen, seeming to perk up at bit at the mention of his husbands cooking.

“Think he finally broke the american meal streak?” Jungkook asked, smiling to himself in amusement as Yoongi snorted, laying his arms across the table and joining Jimin in lying down, eyes closed but obviously listening.

“Probably not- he will run into another recipe soon enough,” he replied to the younger. Tae laughed, swinging his leg easily over his boyfriend, casting a smile towards Yoongi.

“Think he can make those American pancakes again?” He asked excitedly. Hobi nodded, reaching over to pat the lilac’s hair and beam. Yoongi sighed, casting a glance to Jimin who was staring absently at the table.

“As long as I don’t have to move or cook it, I’m fine with whatever Jin wants to make,” Yoongi stated simply, turning back away from Jimin. Jungkook gave that mischievous smile, revealing the familiar bunny features and slight buck teeth that added to the younger's charm.

“Yeah, but Hyung, you wanna be a rock in the next life,” the younger reminded him. Yoongi smirked, finally managing to push himself up and nodding. Jimin laughed, using his hand to cover his mouth at the sound because that just seemed so like the male.

“Damn straight,” Yoongi countered. Hobi arched a brow.

“I’m pretty sure there is nothing straight at this table, Hyung.” Jungkook broke back into cackling laughter, Tae laughing so hard he leaned against Jungkook who gently cradled his head as they continued to laugh.

Jimin flushed bright red, wondering how obvious he was that he was gay too. Did he say anything? He didn’t think he stated he was gay, but then again, he has been low checking out said male god who was sitting next to him with a deadpanned expression.

Hobi was biting his lip to keep from laughing while the two youngest were still choking on laughter, almost falling out of their respective seats while Jimin kept staring at the tables, nerves bubbling in his system and waking the electricity in his blood.

It was stupid to fear their judgement- they just flat out admitted that this table was gay but the nerves of his life, of freshman year when he started to realize that he wanted a male not a female- they just didn’t cut it. Too soft and he wasn’t usually dominant. He wanted someone to dominate him and when he wanted to, take over.

And then Cheol happened. Cheol who truly showed him that he was, in fact, gay. He showed Jimin that it was okay and how to handle the judgement and people staring
because he was always next to him.

Look what happened to that.

Now he was back to being afraid again. The crude words and the stares. Add the accidents that always seemed to follow Jimin around and he was a grade A freak who prefered dick then a pussy to bury his own in.

“Jimin, there is no need to be nervous or afraid. What’s bothering you?” Hobi asked, brows furrowing in concern when he felt and saw waves of anxiety, nerves, and slight fear flying off the younger Spark.

Jungkook’s laughter has faded, Tae barely managing to straighten himself in his seat if it wasn’t for the arm around his waist that held him up. Tae glanced over at Jimin, worry now causing his brow to furrow and a frown replace the bright boxy grin.

Jimin wanted to shrink in on himself, especially when he felt Yoongi’s dark eyes ravishing him, staring him down with a neutral expression that made the itch in his blood to strengthen.

“What? Got a problem with gays?”

“N-no,” Jimin stammered, voice cracking as he flinched back, ducking his hands into his lap as they flared with energy. Yoongi’s eyes narrowed to harsh slits. A lump formed in his throat.

“Think we are gonna rape you in your sleep or something?”

“Min Yoongi!” Namjoon hissed, slamming a hand down on the table and causing the dishes to create a sound. Yoongi paused, glancing towards the younger male with his narrowed eyes, jaw locked tight.

“Actually, Jiminie-ah is gay as well,” Jin spoke up, appearing around the corner carrying a pot of Doenjang soup and rice. Jimin flushed a deeper red as people glanced at him while Jungkook sighed, watching as Jin placed the dish in front of people.

“Eomma, you really can’t just shout that kinda stuff out. Those were his thoughts, remember?” Jungkook reminded him, sounding exasperated. Jin flinched, seemingly abashed as he let out a squeak. “Honestly… how does Appa even handle you.”

“You get use to it, eventually,” Namjoon added quietly from his seat. Jin smacked his arm before turning to Jimin, who was still an unhealthy shade of red as he stared wide eyed at the eldest who gave a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, Jiminie-ah.”

“I-it’s okay,” he stumbled out, voice unusually high.

“We really do suck at welcoming people.” Jin sent a glare towards the youngest who quickly shoved rice in his mouth while piling some soup for Tae who happily dug in. Jimin was not use to having such an open conversation about sexuality.

Even with Baekhee being his best friend. It was just not something they talked about on a regular basis. She may have mentioned it once or twice, or teased him lightly, but he hadn’t openly admitted he was gay in a while.

Still, he felt comfortable. The tension in the room lessened a tad while the sounds of slurping and eating filled the table. He could breathe again, not having eyes on him as he ate and filled his empty stomach, each bite waking him up a bit more.

The quiet, however, didn’t last long.

“I have news,” Namjoon stated, placing his spoon down and looking up at the table, dark, tired eyes searching the tables faces. Jimin wondered where he was all afternoon and all last night, seeming to disappear and now he appeared again.

Yoongi stopped eating, chopsticks with a bunch of rice inches from his mouth as he turned to look at the leader with a unreadable eyes. A serious air circulated around the room as spoons and chopsticks stopped.

“Iron Clad has made a move.” Jaws clenched, eyes hardening. It was like the entire room changed from playful boys to men who had a pain. Even Tae’s face became hard, becoming a slate with no smile, no dancing mirth-filled eyes, but instead a darkness that lingered in the chocolate orbs.

“Namjoon-ah, what have you found?” Yoongi asked, pushing his plate away as a wall of ice grew around his exterior. Namjoon sighed, rubbing a hand over his frustration.

“Not enough. They have found someone who has my level of skills in hacking of the Government database. I have been struggling to master the new security system and anytime I am in, they slam me with viruses until I am out. What’s more is that Iron Clad is too spread out to formally pinpoint even with a database holy cards and numbers- since we do not exist to Carnals there is no way to track.”

Jin clucked his tongue, eyes narrowed on Namjoon, and Jimin realized he was searching the white haired thoughts, piercing more together and gaining information.

“So, how do you know they have moved?”

“There was another attack- in the papers they are calling it a terrorist attack. A building exploded. A police station in Daegu,” Namjoon replied. Jungkook’s eyes blazed, hands clenching into fists.

“Igniter.”

“Possibly, Jungkook, but it could be another type of Spark- obviously a Combat Spark basing on damage alone,” Jin rebuked. Jungkook’s jaw remained clenched as he looked away. Jin turned back to Yoongi. “Here is what we do know- Iron Clad is trying to gain their power by worming into the government. How does one do that?”

“Killing them from the inside,” Hobi spoke up. Tae shook his head quickly, frowning heavily.

“No, the people. The states. The cities. Cause enough chaos, enough drug wars, terrorist attacks, and civil disputes and the federal government will be threatened, panicked, and eager to fix it,” Tae interjected. Hobi frowned, looking troubled. Yoongi agreed with a huff.

“After that, it wouldn’t be hard to place Iron Clad members in government official places- majors, ministers, and the government branches. Swaying the people before causing strife, leading out the President to make a move,” Yoongi added carefully. “Other countries will start being put on the line. Then, how horrid would it be to announce a hidden race? A race powerful enough to destroy humans- for they do not know how many numbers we hold.”

“Yoongi, we don’t even know what numbers we hold,” Namjoon reminded him. Yoongi gave a bitter smile, cocking his head to the side in a way that reminded Jimin of a angry, volatile cat.

“Exactly. So how would humans know?” The table was quiet again. Everyone seemed lost in their thoughts, the desperation, the need to know how to fight something that wasn’t concrete, that was almost as intangible as their own powers was eating away at them.

Eyes were burning into Jimin. Stiffly, Jimin lifted his gaze to be met with the swirling orbs of Hobi. Last night’s talk slammed back into the raven, reminding him what Hobi had told. Namjoon was desperate and Jimin was needed.

Hobi was the first to look away, understanding shining in his gaze, but Jimin still felt like pieces were missing from his equation. He didn’t know half of people’s powers here. He didn’t know what Jungkook could do, or what Yoongi did or why some of them gave him such a wide birth, or even what their leader was. What his leader was.

It was a bit frustrating. How was he supposed to help when he didn’t have all the pieces? All the trust he needs from his own team? It didn’t make sense and made his annoyance rise with the conversation that was like English to him.

Fighting? He has never fought in his life. He much rather run and hide or take the hit for his siblings then fight back cause fighting back usually ended with his ass on the ground. He didn’t pay attention in his South Korean Government class or how all this works. He doesn’t know anything about what they seem to be fluent in.

He couldn’t even control his powers, which was proved yesterday. Hoseok was right. He was weak and his emotions were too frayed and all over the place. How could he help them?

“What’s the plan now?” Jungkook managed out, breaking the tense silence as he looked up through his thick lashes and dark hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. Tae raised a shaky hand and took Jungkook’s clenched one, rubbing his thumb over the plastered white knuckles.

The younger relaxed a bit, his hand loosening in the hold of Tae, who smiled weakly towards Jungkook who leaned down and nuzzled Tae in appreciation. The lilac haired pressed his forehead against Jungkook for a second before pulling away and looking towards their leader.

“I want to send some scouts. We need to be on high alert. Iron Clad wants us gone and now that we took their prize they will be more determined,” Namjoon replied quietly, lowering his hand from rubbing his temple. “Hoseok, I am sending you to Daegu with Taemin. I want recon and a count from other factions.”

“Done. I’ll go pack now,” Hobi answered instantly, standing from the table, soup forgotten. As Hobi passed, he placed a comforting hand on Jimin, a silent reminder of his words, before disappearing around the corner.

“Jungkook, I want to send you with Hoseok for backup.” Jungkook’s face became pained, but he gave a nod before standing stiffly and breaking away from Tae. Jimin watched as he disappeared. “Taehyung, I am going to sent you to scout Busan. I need all the animals you can to scent out if any Spark is still in town- especially Jamison and the Leaper.”

“Soonshim,” Taehyung ordered, nodding in Namjoon’s direction before he heard the clacking of claws against the hardwood floors and disappearing up the stairs to get ready. Jin looked torn as he stared sadly down at the plate.

Namjoon turned to Yoongi and Jimin. “Jin,” he whispered hoarsely. The eldest licked his lips, reaching over and touching Namjoon’s cheek before standing and gathering the plates. Like the others, he too disappeared. Namjoon’s eyes never left the two. “Yoongi, we need groceries and ammo. I am sending you and Jimin into Gimhae for food, ammo, guns, whatever else you can find and meet up with Gimhae faction leader, Chanyeol, for more info.”

“Am I a personal grocery shopper and babysitter now?” Yoongi bit out, narrowing his eyes on the leader. Namjoon’s lips tightened into a straight line, not seeming to be pleased. Jimin scowled, heat of anger racing through him but he bit his lip and kept quiet. “Do I look like someone who signed up to babysit a brat?”

“No, you look like someone who has agreed to let me decide who leads and decides our future. Are you questioning my decisions now, Yoongi?” Namjoon shot back, voice steady and the words dripping with warning, a challenge. Yoongi growled in his throat. Jimin imagined that if he was a cat, which he often reminded him of with his swift temperament, his ears would be flat and tail agitated.

“This wasn’t what I am here for. He can’t do anything if they find us in Gimhae! I’ll be on my own,” Yoongi hissed, throwing an arm in Jimin’s direction. Namjoon sat back in his chair, eyes watching the elder with a hint of anger.

“He isn’t useless, Yoongi. He proved that yesterday when he almost killed Hoseok.”

“Oh yes, let’s kill our own teammate. Real helpful.” Yoongi glared harshly at Namjoon, who merely stared back. Jimin wanted to run out of this dining room, soup now cold and his hunger vanished for the time being. “He is uncontrollable, whiny, and doesn’t get it. He is a liability. Why you kept him instead of ditching him with someone else is beyond me.”

Namjoon slammed his hand on the table, a loud ring echoing throughout the dining hall as the table shuddered dangerously, a crack going across the wood but somehow managing to stay alive as the white haired male glared down the smaller elder.

“Whether you want to admit it or not, we are losing. He is a Empower, something that hasn’t been found in a long time. If he is a liability, Yoongi, then what do you think you are when you do not allow us to feed off of you? Allow us in? He doesn’t get it? At least he tries. You shut yourself out in that bedroom and let the rest of us rot. Now, I gave you an order,” Namjoon sneered, rage mottled across his usually easy going features. Yoongi looked taken aback, if not somewhat hurt by the youngers words.

Regret welled within Jimin as he hurriedly stands, scrambling to get between the two males with a hand to each of their chests. Yoongi jerked away like he had been stung at the touch of Jimin.

“Stop it! Fighting about this isn’t going to help anything!” Jimin shouted, ignoring the hurt that dashed at his pride at Yoongi’s reaction to his touch. To how Yoongi was back to treating him like dirt under his shoe. He looked back at the male. “I know you don’t like me, I get that, but today when we are out, I will not bother you, okay? Just please, stop this. Namjoon-ssi, we will do it.”

Namjoon remained stiff a moment, glaring at Yoongi, before sighing as his shoulders deflated and he looked down towards Jimin. He instantly softened as he nodded, offering a little smile. “Thank you, Jimin-ah, but you don’t have to refer to me as ‘ssi’. Call me Hyung.”

“Okay, Hyung.” Namjoon smiled again before looking back at Yoongi, who kept his fists clenched and eyes averted. Opening his mouth to say something, he thought better of it and closed it again, turning on his heel to leave.

“I’ll be in the database. You know what number to call if there is an emergency,” he called over his shoulder. Yoongi hummed, unmoving as Namjoon disappeared to join the others in preparing for the day.

The dining room was lapsed back into tense silence, each of the small males not moving, not uttering a word, as they stood a few feet from each other. Jimin licked his dry lips, wanting to get some moisture, maybe some air, but it didn’t work.

“I… uh… will go get dressed then,” he stammered into the room, not really sure if Yoongi was listening.

“Don’t ever fucking touch me again,” Yoongi snapped, eyes blazing as he looked at the raven haired. Jimin jumped at the sharpness of his voice, the knife that was wedged between the words that cause goosebumps to race across his skin.

“W-what?”

“Are you deaf too? Don’t you ever touch me again, do you understand? Namjoon was a fool to pair me with you.”

“I was just trying to help! I didn’t mean to offend you!” Jimin shouted back, frustrated. Why can’t he ever reach past this stubborn, rude, annoying, and completely handsome male that only seemed to hate him? What did he even do to him in the first place? “I’m sorry for whatever the fuck I did that made you hate me so much, but I wasn’t going to stand there and watch that fight go down because of me! I don’t mean to cause trouble!”

“Whatever, just go get dressed. I’m done with this conversion,” Yoongi barked back, marching to go past Jimin for the stairs. A huff went through his chest, feathers perfectly ruffled.

“Like always. You don’t want this conversation because you know I am right, so you end it, so you can keep your pride instead of disappearing to lick your wounds.” Jimin should have kept his mouth shut- he wasn’t usually this snappy and rude but damn if this man didn’t change that. “But that won’t work forever. No wonder Namjoon Hyung got mad at you. You’re rude, harsh, and cold. Anyone who even gets close to that wall of yours ends up with a wound to their gut and a scratch on their face. Well, fuck you. All you’re gonna do is hurt yourself in the end.”

Yoongi made a strangled noise in the back of his throat as he turned to send the coldest of glares towards Jimin, but this time the younger didn’t back down. He stared right back with a steady face despite the nerves that flared in his blood. There was no telling what this male could do, Jimin knew that, but he wasn’t afraid anymore.

“You think you know me, kid? You don’t, so don’t go getting all mushy gushy on me about how I am destroying myself. I already have Jin, I don’t need a second person to diagnose me. So fuck you and fuck your self-righteous shit and shove it up your ass, pretty boy. I don’t need it,” he growled. Jimin sighed, watching him stomp up the stairs and trailing behind absently to dress.

Why did you have to put me with him, Namjoon Hyung?

 

******

 

Jimin really, really, really wanted to know if it was possible to either a) electrocute yourself or b) throw yourself off a train.

He doubted the electrocute yourself, since basing on what everyone is saying about him, he is made up of electricity so that option was out. But throwing himself off the train? It had potential.

If he could make it past the thick wall of cold, sexy as fuck asshole sitting by the aisle of the train or open the window fast enough to slip himself through then he was game. The chances, sadly, were slim.

So instead, he sat utterly still beside the equally still Min Yoongi who looked more than ready to kill anyone who dare even breathe in his general direction let alone anything else. Small this man may be, but he was highly intimidating.

And so highly attractive. His bleached hair was styled in a messy way, revealing his undercut and covered with a black beanie. He wore loose dark black jeans, ratty converse, and a simple black shirt with long sleeves. It was a simple outfit, but it was every gay man's dream.

Jimin hated it. He swears he hates it, no matter if the male next to him smells like a perfect mix of soft axe cologne and shampoo, or how his hands were large, veiny, and perfectly masculine. Totally hated how he could be so aloof, sexy, and appealing all the while looking ready to kill.

Hated it to the bone. Really.

Jimin felt like a bloody potato next him. Ripped denim shorts, blue vans with white socks pulled up almost to the knee, a striped black white shirt with long sleeves and a fluffy light blue sweater that was a few sizes too big.

His black hair was messy and uncombed, on the straight side, and a bit flat since he forcibly skipped the shower since Jin was in there and according to Yoongi the male takes longer than a female and ordered to forget it and get in the (there may have been a few swears added) car.

Alas, here he sat next to wonderfully smelling Yoongi with his clean, perfectly styled hair while he had greasy, unkempt and smelly him. Oh yes, this was indeed a fun train ride to a town he had never been to- which was any town really. He didn’t travel much.

Jimin went back to debating his own suicide rate, trying to remember how probability and stat worked, but he studied more calculus so it wasn’t going well. He decided that staring out the window to see the scenery and pretend he leap out was the better option.

Trees soared past the window, showing glimpses of a city with a gorgeous and almost old styled landscape showed through. His eyes widened at the sight of old Korean styled houses, tall buildings, and what seemed to be a water park in the distance.

“Why do you look like a puppy at the prospect of going on a walk?” Yoongi deadpanned, brow furrowed in annoyance when he felt shoes touching his legs when the kid climbed a bit more on the seats to peer out the window with his face pressed against the glass.

Jimin flushed, feeling the burn of his cheeks as he was reminded who he was with and what they were doing. Peeling his cheek away from the cool glass, he sheepishly flashed a smile towards Yoongi.

“Sorry. I have never been out of Busan before,” he admitted, settling himself back in his seat and keep his eyes locked on his blue sweater paws. “That’s Gimhae right?”

“Never?” Jimin shook his head. Yoongi studied him a moment before nodding. “Yes, that’s Gimhae. But if we are getting technical, you still haven’t left Busan. It’s a South Providence of Busan.”

Jimin deflated at the words, surprised, as he glanced back towards the window with wide eyes. Yoongi felt a twinge of guilt in his gut, mixing with the guilt from the earlier fight they had, but ignored it as he watched the male.

“Oh… right.”

“Don’t worry- I am sure that you will visit a lot of places with us. We tend to travel a lot- wherever Bang sends us,” Yoongi offered, hating the sigh in the soft ‘oh’ the younger gave. At his words, Jimin brightened again, turning towards Yoongi with a huge smile.

“Really?” He squealed happily, almost bouncing in his seat. Yoongi nodded, charmed a bit by the smile that made his light brown eyes disappear into little crescents and showcase the crook in his front teeth that was rather endearing.

“Yeah. Even the Capital.”

“Seoul?”

“Yeah. We go there a lot actually. Bang sends us there often since a lot of Government buildings and officials live there. They tend to be targeted,” he explained with a small shrug. Jimin blinked once, opening his mouth, closing it again and sinking a bit. Yoongi sighed. “What is it, brat?”

“Um… you mentioned ‘Bang’ twice. Who is that?”

“Oh, it’s the leader of Sparks against Iron Clad. His actual name is Sihyuk. We call him Bang since his power is Molecular Combustion, or how we call it, Bursts. He helps organize things and keep things going. Also tries to find other Sparks who haven’t been discovered,” Yoongi acknowledged. Jimin made a ‘O’ shape with his mouth and nodded.

“So… he leads over Namjoon?” Jimin clarified. Yoongi hesitated, not sure how much this kid knew or how to explain it. To be honest their system was messy and hard to understand unless you have been living in it for a while.

“Correct- on a level. Joon-ah is a faction leader. Before you ask, a Faction is a group of Sparks that have joined together in a certain area. For instance, we are the Bangtan Faction of Busan.” Jimin blinked, licking his lips quickly as he nodded and leaned closer. “So, Joon-ah leads over this particular Faction and can meet up with other Faction leaders. Bang is… I guess a major of a short. A manager. He helps keep things orderly and neat.”

“I see… but…. You’re older then Namjoon Hyung… and Jin Hyung is older than both of you. Why aren’t you the leader? Or Jin Hyung?” Jimin asked, brow furrowed in thought. Yoongi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t a bad question, just annoying to explain.

“Yes, I am older, but I am not a leader. I wasn’t made for it and my… ability… wouldn’t fit the criteria.” Jimin looked like he wanted to ask, but bit his tongue instead and nodded wordlessly. “Jin just didn’t want to be the leader and Joon-ah has always been good at it so we let him. I mean it makes since for a Knowledge Seeker.”

“Knowledge Seeker?”

“His Spark type,” Yoongi added quickly. “He has the unique ability to understand, remember, and absorb from anything he reads, hears, or sees. He can understand languages instantly, can read anything and retain any and all information. He is a Non-Combat Spark.”

A confused frown litter Jimin’s face as his nose scrunched, head tilted slightly to the side. Yoongi bit back a smile at the cute sight of him as he tucked his small legs underneath him and stared at Yoongi with curiosity and longing to learn.

The boy wanted to learn. You could see it in the way he processed everything Yoongi was saying, how he hung off every word and questioned whatever he didn’t understand. He honestly reminded the elder of a puppy, curious about everything.

It was endearing and different from the sassy and harsh boy from the morning that scolded him and tore him down that morning. The kindness that seemed to ooze from him was back, that eye smile that was brighter than even Hoseok’s showing through.

Yoongi couldn’t understand it. How could someone from earlier who shouted how he basically hated him, even said how he himself hated the younger, be so open and friendly? Like the morning never happened?

Park Jimin was certainly a mystery. A giant contradiction. Some moments he was weak and whining about his life, the other he shoved whoever back in his place with a sharp lash of his tongue and glare of his eyes. He was a mix of clueless and abstract.

“Non-Combat Spark?”

“Yeah. Every Spark’s power has a ranking, a power setting, and whether it could be used for combat or not,” Yoongi explained with a little smile. He gestured towards Jimin.

“You are a Combat Spark, Rank 5. I am a Combat Spark, Rank 5, and Taehyung is a Non-Combat, Rank 1. Hoseok is a Non-Combat, Rank 2.”

“So… Rank 5 is the highest?” He questioned quietly. Yoongi hesitated again before nodding his head. Jimin bit his lip and kept quiet. Yoongi decided that was enough for today. Jimin didn’t object, remaining silent, as the train slowed to a stop in front of the station. Yoongi didn’t miss the way the younger leaned closer in his chair to him.

“Come on. We are hitting the grocery store first and using a Leaper to get back,” Yoongi stated, getting to his feet as the train came to a full stop and groaned. Jimin instantly huddled close, remaining extremely careful to not touch the elder, as they file out of the train.

Jimin’s eyes were as big as saucers as he glanced around the train station, the sky cloudy and heavy with a promise of a rain and a bit cooler despite it being late august. The scent of rain was heavy and brought promise.

The platform was mostly empty, a few milling around or waiting for the next train. It wasn’t a big station and Jimin wasn’t surprised. It held one ticket office, a tired looking worker, and a one security guard watching the area with weary eyes.

“Chanyeol should be-”

“Min Yoongi,” a voice greeted, cutting him off. Yoongi turned slowly, facing the tall male. Jimin squeaked. The male was tall- he had to be at least 6 foot. He had black hair, cut short and gelled back, a neutral expression across his face, and wore black clothing.

“Park Chanyeol. Been a while,” Yoongi answered, giving his head a slight bow. Jimin kept his body aligned behind him, not sure if he likes this or not. His hands were buzzing, blinking wildly at the newcomer. Yoongi didn’t bat an eye. “Chanyeol, this is Park Jimin. Rank 5 Empower, Combat. Jimin, this is Chanyeol. Is the Gimhae Faction Leader.”

“A Empower?” Chanyeol asked, shock clear in his voice as he looked over at Jimin with raised brows. Jimin looked at the ground, offering a weak nod. “Well I’ll be damned. I heard there was rumors of one around, but no sightings.”

“Well, you have a sighting. He was being hunted by the Hounds.”

“Hounds?” Jimin asked. The term was familiar. He heard Hobi and Jin use it before but he was never sure what it meant or why it was used. Chanyeol raised a brow, head tilting to the sid to examine JImin further.

“Yes. Refers to Iron Clads scots that sniff out other Sparks.”

“Like the Igniter and Leaper that attacked you,” Yoongi added. Chanyeol cut Jimin another glance at that but kept quiet. Jimin merely nodded and shelved that info with the rest for later. He liked learning. He liked understanding. He didn’t feel like he didn’t fit in when he knew what they were talking about.

At the reminder of the incident at the bakery, which felt like forever ago but was really only a couple of days, he flinched and shrunk back. He can still remember the heat, the suffocating air, and the glinting eyes. The fear that coursed through his veins.

Chanyeol clicks his tongue in distaste, handsome features pinched like he was sucking on a lemon. “Is it the usual Hounds?”

“Yep. Jamison and Daesuk.” Chanyeol cursed in english under his breathe, much to Jimin’s surprise but didn’t comment, before the male turned back to Jimin, eyes flickering over his form. “So, you are really a Empower?”

“Um… yeah?”

“Can I see?” Jimin shied away instantly, and he had never been so happy that Yoongi stepped in front of him and shielded him. Chanyeol cocked his head, shifting his weight as he took in Yoongi’s stance.

“He doesn’t have good control. Besides, what does it matter anyway?” Yoongi question. Chanyeol huffed but didn’t answer before he pulled out a black key fob. Without a word, Yoongi reached out and grabbed it, slipping it into his pocket.

Chanyeol dropped his hand, shoving them both in the pockets of his jeans as let his dark eyes trail uneasily over the duo. Yoongi stared right back. He was use to his antics, use to the way he was, and the curiosity that made up the young faction leader.

“This it?”

“That has all the info we got so far- movement patterns and alike. Be sure and have Namjoon look it over.” Chanyeol turned to look at the sky. “If you need anything else, Namjoon knows my number. For now, go get food and ammo. I’ll meet you at the sight and Leap you back to Busan.”

Yoongi grunted, turning on his heel and heading for the exit of the station without another word. Chanyeol didn’t seem to mind, shifting his weight and going in the opposite direction. Jimin hurried after Yoongi, taking to the bustling streets of Gimhae.

It didn’t seem that different from Busan. The streets were crowded with people, shifting in and out of stores and taller, glass buildings of the city. The roads were littered with cars, people minding their own business, but to Jimin, it smelled different.

The briny, humid air was filled with a crisper scent, something akin to a sweetness, and the heat was a bit more bearable. There wasn’t sand everywhere, but more sidewalks and concrete. The sky, which was dark from clouds, was still beautiful.

In many ways, Jimin preferred the clouds and rainy weather. He never liked the heat and the way it made his shirt stick to his skin, or the feeling of sweat slick across his forehead and back.

“Come on, Jimin. This way,” Yoongi said, directing Jimin’s attention away from the fact he was drifting off in a different direction then he was supposed to. Startled, Jimin scurried back to the safety of Yoongi’s side. “Should I get you a leash?”

“Only if it comes with a rhinestone collar,” Jimin shot back, nose scrunched in distaste at the idea of just a leash, but feeling like he was in a teasing mood. Yoongi, however, nearly choked on his saliva, cheeks turning a bit red. A smirk touched Jimin’s plump lips. “Well, who knew Min Yoongi was such a perv.”

“Says the one who offered the rhinestone collar,” Yoongi defended under his breath. Jimin shrugged and gave a cheeky grin, practically skipping across the sidewalk. Yoongi watched the younger bouncing next to him, smile large and eyes disappeared.

“Only the best,” he teased further. Yoongi sighed and rolled his eyes.

“What a princess,” Yoongi muttered, eyes now locked on the convenience store ahead. It was simple building, a usual size store that should have all they need. A sign outside read fresh fish was available and even sold American families.

“Pretty sure Tae-ah mentioned that Jin Hyung was the princess,” he replied, smiling at the idea of the lilac haired male and the conversation about how ‘high maintenance’ Jin was and how Namjoon handled him. Yoongi cracked a smile, chuckling, as they stepped into the fish scented store and fresh vegetables.

A blast of air conditioning flushed at his features as he glanced around the store, watching as Yoongi grabbed a basket and held it to his arm. His dark eyes flickered about the store, landing on a aisle number then skipping to the next as he mumbled under his breathe.

Jimin bit back a smile, finding this Yoongi to be… gentler. Watching how he wandered at first, mumbling quiet things eh would need, Tae’s favorite snacks and Jungkook’s seaweed bites. It showed that he did care.

He just needed time. If Jimin was anything… it was patient. After spending so much time raising Jihyun, handling Baekhee, he was patient.

Jimin wandered back over, bending down to clasp the metal bar of another basket to put on his arm as he meet Yoongi’s gaze. Yoongi blinked as Jimin broke into a smile, hoping to be reassuring. “Let’s go shopping, yeah?”

Yoongi smiled back- and it had to be the biggest smile yet. It revealed bright white, straight teeth and pink gums. It made him seem younger and free. Like a teenager again. Gummy smile, was what went through Jimin’s mind.

“Sounds good, brat.”

“And here I thought we were going somewhere, asshole,” Jimin sighed, but was giggling anyway. Yoongi huffed and shook his head.

“Nah, now let’s go. I wanna go home and sleep.”

Chapter Text

“Faggot.”

“Freak.”

“Go suck some dick, fag,” another voice sneered. Jimin flinched, keeping his head down as he was surrounded by the others, trying to swallow him whole with their piercing dark eyes, staring him down like he was a disgusting bug to be squashed.

“Do you open your legs and let any man suck it?”

“Slut. Bend over for me too, yeah?” The laughter followed, tears burning and throat tight as he gripped his bag tightly, fighting back tears. Why can’t they leave him alone? The faces surrounded him. Faces of people he knows.

“You must have made Cheol gay too! You look like a fucking girl. Do you dress like one too?” He hated it. He hated the voices, reminding him that he was disgusting and plaguing him. Stuck to his body and slicking over his skin like oil.

Jimin ducked his head, hurrying through the halls a bit faster, converse slapping against the ground as he tried to outrun the voices. He had to out run the voices. But they continued to echo in his head, swirling around like curdled milk.

A sob tore through his throat when the voices suddenly fell quiet, and he was wrapped in warm, strong arms. A gasp tore through Jimin at the feeling of iron arms around his waist, another with fingers threaded through his black hair, and a tall body that he had sunk into.

The hold was familiar. Warm. He knew the scent of male and cologne, it was a scent he fell asleep too oh so many times. He knew the hands that tangled within his hair and the lips that pressed soft kissed across his temple and head.

“Jimin baby,” his deep voice purred. Jimin almost started sobbing again as he buried himself in Cheol’s broad chest, soaking up the light touches and ignore the bitterness that settled within his stomach. “It’s alright, love. I’m right here. Ignore them. They don’t know what they are talking about.”

“I thought…” He hiccuped and cried a little harder, tiny fingers clasping desperately at the shirt and breathing in his scent. He missed this. He missed feeling like he was loved. Needed. He missed being held like he matters. “I thought you left me.”

“I did,” Cheol replied coldly. Suddenly that warm hold didn’t feel warm anymore. They felt like chains, clasping at his wrists as he was ripped away from the warm chest and standing center back in that computer lab, watching as Cheol kissed another man.

Tears fell endlessly from his eyes, chest constricting as he pulled at the cold, metal chains that bound his wrists and ankles. He couldn’t move as he sobbed, watching Cheol move his lips in sync, groaning, feeling another’s man's chest when he suddenly stopped and glared at Jimin.

“I could never be with someone like you. A freak. A monstrosity. A miscreation. You’re ugly, fat, and useless. How many times did I tell you that you should go on a diet? How many times have told you to wear makeup?”

He couldn’t breathe. Jimin couldn’t breathe as he choked back more sobs. Pulling half heartedly at the chains when the computer lab exploded. Sparks flew from the plugs, the screens shattering and decorating the floor with crystal droplets.

And there Cheol stood. A few feet away from Jimin with a glare darkening his handsome features, distorting his image as he gave a cold smirk towards him. Baekhee stood next to him, her hand having thin spider like webs across it from where blood vessels blew.

It spread out across her wrist, swirling upwards like pretty lines, a pink color, as they disappear beneath the sleeve of her shirt. Her contact blue eyes were cold and harsh.

Beside her stood Jihyun, his brown eyes no longer sparkly and filled with teasing mirth, and his stance was cold and sturdy. Ready to run. He looked like a stranger before chained Jimin, whose chest was struggling to filter air through his lungs as he stared in horror.

His father was next. Cold crisp suit, finely pressed, clean shaven, and not a hair out of place as all three stood before him, making him feel small and childish. He wanted to run, to flee, and scurry under a rock. Hatred bubbled in the air, curdling with disgust to create a cocktail of animosity.

“You’re a monster,” Baekhee hissed, raising her arm to display the spiderweb of scars that will mar her skin forever. “A freak. You think I wanted to be your friend freshman year? I made friends with you out of pity. I should have dumped you a long time ago.”

“You’re not my son. I will never have a faggot as a son. All you do is disappointment me. You can’t do anything right. You’re disgusting.”

“Dad, please,” Jimin whimpered, tears falling from his lashes as he looked between Baekhee and his father. “I-I tried! I swear I did. B-baekhee… I didn’t want to hurt you. I r-really didn’t.”

“What about leaving me?” Jihyun interjected, stepping forward with a sneer. Jimin flinched, shrinking in on himself as he faced his younger brother. His stomach twisted, threatening to expose whatever the hell he ate last at the sight of hatred across his brothers brow. “You left me. You ditched me! But that’s okay because I am better off without you.”

Jihyun turned, sneakers squeaking as he walked away. Jimin could only watch, crying out for his brother as his father took his hand and smiled adorning at Jihyun, a look of pride across his face. Baekhee followed, smiling as she skipped happily next to the duo.

“Jihyun! Baekhee! Please!”

Jimin shot awake, cold sweat wrenching a shiver to slam into his body as he coughed. Body shaking, sheets clutched tightly to his chest he fought to catch his breathe and keep his sobs within the confines of his mouth.

His mouth felt like cotton, tongue dry and scratchy against his throat. His hands wouldn't’ stop shaking as he clutched his chest, trying to calm himself but the lump in his throat only grew as he bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted iron.

For a moment, he hated his mind. He hated the voices that echoed in his head, the way they danced and cheered for his own demise. He hated how the clock read 2:03 a.m. and how sleep seemed like a myth now as the dream remained planted by his side.

“Fuck,” he swore, running a shaky hand through his damp, greasy hair as he fell back to his pillow, ravaging the inside of his mouth as more iron flooded his taste buds, but with no relief to the chaos of his mind.

A buzz sounded in the room, casting a bit of light in the dark room. Jimin lifted his teary gaze, looking over at the bedside table where his phone lay. Jin had given it to him when he got back from grocery shopping with Yoongi- which hadn’t been terrible.

He was just so slow. The man would wander the aisles, and get lost in his thoughts sometimes or be too careful to the point it was annoying. But it was also fun. Jimin loved to tease him, and he discovered the male also had a affinity for teasing Jimin.

Not many words were said really, but for once, Jimin didn’t mind the quiet as they silently messed with other, stealing things from each others basket or adding things unnecessary. It was… pleasant, which was everything Min Yoongi was not.

Jimin wasn’t going to push his luck on that. He still seemed to get on the older’s nerves, since as soon as he got home, Yoongi upped and disappeared back into the folds of his bedroom without another word and didn’t even really come out for food. He had gone back to grouchy turtle.

Jin promised him that that was just Yoongi and to ignore it, but it still made Jimin sad. He didn’t want anyone else to dislike him. Not here. He was tired of being so useless and pointless. He wanted to make the people here happy. To help, if he could.

Either way, he was quite happy when Jin had handed him the iPhone 6s back to him, dead of course and a little cracked but Jin promised to fix that soon with a charger. He said that Tae had managed to find it because of Soonshim when he was scouting. He apparently gave it to JIn before heading back out for more scouting since Soonshim seemed to be onto something.

Jin warned him about communicating and remaining quiet about his location and to make sure they couldn’t track him. This house wasn’t supposed to exist. Jimin wasn’t supposed to be with them so to take cautiousness when using it.

Jin also handed him a sticky note with all their cell numbers on it to program into his phone for safe keeping. He was grateful and planned on doing so when he wasn’t exhausted.

Shoving the covers off him, he grabbed the phone and pulled it close, seeing that there was a lot of calls from Jihyun and Baekhee. He didn’t really talk to anyone else so that was it other than a few twitter notifications and news things.

His breath seemed to halt in his throat as he opened the text messages first, not really caring if Jihyun saw that he had read them. His brother had been messaging him. That was all that mattered.

The first ones were from a couple of days ago, during the bakery fire. Where he had basically gone missing for the night and morning. The texts were paicked and beginning to JImin to answer before switching to calls.

The other was from practically three days ago. When he had left Jihyun knocked out cold, Baekhee hurt, and ran out of there without even a proper goodbye. His chest ached again, feeling heavier by the second as he read the words.

Jihyun: Jimin? Where r u? This really isn’t funny. Baekhee is hurt. Her hand doesn’t look so good. She keeps telling me she touched a outlet when the power blew. The entire neighborhood is out of power and it hasn’t come back on.

Jihyun: I took her to the hospital. She’s okay. She promises me that everything is fine. Jimin, where r u? Why aren’t you home? R u really disappearing?

Jihyun: If this is really what you want, I’ll respect it. I don’t like this. People had school have a rumor going around that you killed yourself. Cheol is saying that you made him ‘gay’. Dad hasn’t noticed your absence, I’ll cover for you for as long as I can.

Jihyun: it is so weird not having you here. People keep asking me where you are. I keep telling them you went to a dance school. Maybe you are. I know how much you love it. I miss you greatly.

Jihyun: goodnight, Jimin.

Jihyun: good morning. Hope you are doing well. Baekhee is recovering okay. She seems a little distant though. Doesn’t talk as much.

Jihyun: I got an A on the exam. Dad says he is proud. He was asking about your grades and where you were. I told him with Baekhee.

Jihyun: goodnight, Jimin. Come home soon.

The most recent text was five minutes ago, saying he had a nightmare. Jimin felt his stomach twist further, rocking dangerously as he gave a sad smile. He guessed even apart they were connected since he had a nightmare too.

He paused as he looked over the texts from Baekhee. He was scared, could feel the anxiety wash over him and tangle within the panic that was coursing through his veins. He tried to rein it back, not wanting to bust his phone now that he got it back.

Baekhee: I’m sorry.

Baekhee: I’m okay. Just some damaged nerves in my wrist and parts of my hand. Most of the blood vessels there blew, but it doesn’t really hurt anymore.

Baekhee: Jihyun misses you. I miss you too.

Baekhee: Whatever happened back at the house… it doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. Jihyun keeps telling me to let you be and maybe you will come home when you are ready.

Baekhee: People are saying you’re dead. I don’t know. Maybe you are. Be safe. Wherever you are.

A sigh caught in his throat as he stared at the screen. He wasn’t sure he could answer her. The guilt was so heavy in his stomach he felt it crawling up his throat, ready to expose his secrets.

Jimin scrambled out of bed, launching himself towards his door as he rushed through the dark house to the bathroom where he all but threw himself in before running over to the toilet. Acid crawled up as he reacted into the bowl, body continuing to shake as he finally sagged against the porcelain.

His phone was clutched loosely in his hand as he sank to the floor, letting the cold tiles soak through his damp tank top as he laid there. Waves of homesickness washed over him, the desire for his brother echoing through his mind.

Without thinking, he pressed the call button and raised his phone numbly to his ear. He heard the rung, waiting with bated breathe for the familiar voice and click that gave him an answer.  Hope fluttered in his chest like birds wings when a click sounded on the second ring.

“Jimin hyung?” Jihyun whispered, voice desperate and hopeful. Jimin let out a shuddering breath, a sob catching in his throat. “Hyung? Are you there?”

“Y-yeah. Hey Ji-ah,” Jimin croaked, voice cracking and the taste of acid lingering in his mouth but he didn’t care. All that mattered was he was talking to his brother. “I’m here.”

“Hyung, are you okay?” Jihyun whispered a bit more urgently. There was some rustling on the line, the sound of his sheets moving over the line following. Jimin closed his eyes, feeling some of his anxiety go away.

“Yes, I’m okay. I’m really okay,” Jimin replied gently, taking on the same gentle whisper as he let the cool air slid over his sweaty skin and calm his racing heart. He heard a pause in Jihyun’s breathing.

“Hyung, where did you go? Are you… coming back?”

The answer that lingered on his tongue was ready to be unleashed, but he held it back. Hobi’s words echoed throughout his ear, that once he sees, he will be trapped here like Jin. That he won’t want to leave. His first answer was a instant ‘hell yes’ but something was holding him back.

And sadly, so did faces. The faces of the men he had been living with. The faces of people who were caring for him- even if they withheld information from him. They were… good people. Jungkook, Taehyung, even Yoongi. Jin and Namjoon. Hoseok.

Whether we are willing to admit it or not, we need you. We are losing.’

“I… I don’t know, Jihyun. I don’t know,” Jimin replied instead. The words tasted funny on his tongue, laced with regret and sadness that tumbled around his brain as he clutched his phone harder, steeling himself when he felt Jihyun’s breathing hitch, fighting back tears. “But I am not leaving you forever, okay? This is just… something I have to do.”

“And what is that? What is so important that you just fucking left? I woke up lying on the ground, barely remembering anything except you telling me that you are leaving and these two guys just… and Baek. What are you even doing?” Jihyun snapped, his voice raising a bit before he seemed to remember dad was home and falling quiet.

A bitter smile ghosted his lips. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing, but something in the bottom of him knew that it was right. He never lied to Jihyun, and he didn’t want to start now. But he couldn’t tell him the truth.

“I’m… following my heart. Don’t worry about me. I am where I am supposed to be.” Jihyun sniffled on the line, breaking Jimin’s heart a little but he pressed on. “I promise to text you everyday. To send selfies so you can see my ugly mug. I will even come see you. When I can. But not right now. Not yet.”

“What about dad?” He asked quietly, sounding troubled. Jimin bit his lip. His dad was getting suspicious. He must have needed something from JImin or received a call from the school saying he wasn’t there.  It wouldn’t be long till he may or may to call the police.

It depended on if he cared enough to bother.

“Lie. Say I ran away or I don’t know. Went off to be a underground dancer. Auditioned to be a part of company. Do whatever. He will probably disown me anyway,” Jimin laughed, trying to keep quiet but he knew that was probably true. Jihyun was quiet a moment.

“Did you? Become a underground dancer, I mean,” he whispered. Jimin pursed his lips.

“No, but I still dance.” More rustling and Jimin had a feeling Jihyun was nodding. A sense of content filled his mind, calming the electricity that was playing among his fingers. “You know I love you right? That I didn’t want to leave.”

“A part of you did, you midget.”

“Hey! I am still your hyung!” Jimin interjected. A little laugh followed. “Maybe a part of me did, but you don’t really need me, Ji. You can make more friends without my social disgrace ruining you.”

“Don’t say that, jerkwad. I don’t care about that,” Jihyun replied sharply. Jimin shrugged absently. “And neither did Baek. I do need you.”

“Really? Ji, how is dad treating you now that I am gone?” Utter silence. He couldn’t even hear breathing before a small exhale sounded and more rustling. Jimin waited, heart beginning to pick again with a ache.

“He… took me to the movies. And congratulated me on my grades. Hyung, that doesn’t mean anything! You’re still his first born son! Really,” Jihyun pleaded. Jimin bit the inside of his cheek. Tears stung his eyes, but he ignored it. He wasn’t going to cry over this. It was stupid. He felt like a child. “He still cares about you.”

“You really do live in a dream world, huh, Ji? Better go drink some apple juice.”

“Hyung!” Jihyun griped. Jimin smiled lightly. “I am not a kid.”

“But you didn’t deny the apple juice.”

“I actually hate you,” Jihyun sighed, but there was no hostility behind it.  A yawn followed.

“Goodnight, Ji-ah. Get some sleep,alright?” Jimin whispered.

“Wait, when will I-”

“I told you, Ji-ah. I am not leaving you. I’ll text you and call you when I can. Love you, kid.”

“Normally I would argue, but whatever. Love you too, jerk. And you’re too short to be a ‘hyung’.” The line went dead, leaving Jimin to his thoughts. They felt dangerous, throbbing around at his temples and reminding him about his dream.

His skin was tingling, but it wasn’t the usual reason. It was one he avoided for a long time. The one that called for a simple sharp blade and a call for crimson to run down pasty skin. A reminder that he wasn’t anything.

That even his mom left. His dad wanted him to be the one that left. That he was just not needed that no one could stand him. A lingering desire that he despised as much as looking in the mirror.

He wasn’t stupid though. He never let the blade touch his wrist. Nor his thigh, for Baek’s blue eyes would notice instantly and his ear would fall off from the amount of ranting she would do. For the concern his brother would give.

Attention was something he didn’t want. So why make it obvious? All he needed was a single cut, or scrape. Ease the thoughts that hounded his brain, plaguing his thoughts, shredded at his insides. The outside of his arm- a tree did it. A cut on his stomach? From dance practice. Some had a pencil.

So small, so unnoticable.

But did the trick.

Unsteadily, for his legs were as strong as a newborn fawns, he managed to get to his feet. His hands were plastered white, gripping the edge of the sink to keep him upright as he stared into the mirror. He flinched back at his own appearance.

His skin was ashen grey with a tinge of yellow, lips chapped and bleeding a bit from the constant biting. Dark circles reigned supreme under his dark, unclear eyes.  Cheeks too puffy, eyes too small, nose too big, and teeth crooked in the front.

It was no wonder Cheol didn’t want him. No wonder he told him to diet and lose weight. That his father told him to fix the mess of his hair.

Turning away, his eyes darted towards the hanger that held the boy’s shower things. Including his now. His eyes locked on his razor. It was calling him, calling for crimson and calling for quietness.

For punishment.

Wobbling on shaky legs, he reached out and snatched it, hurrying back over to the sink and rolling up his shirt to expose his stomach. His too much fat stomach, exposing abs he knew he had but were fading a bit from his lack of work out and dancing. Making him feel heavier.

A few scars from before littered here and there across his chest, and chose to cut a bit higher, near his collarbone and blade running into something or Soonshim having too sharp claws as he jerked the blade upwards.

A blissful sting followed. Crimson welling up and slipped down his skin as he closed his eyes and let the cut burn for a moment. And with it the roaring of his mind. When he soaked it all up, he bandaged it and put away the razor before slipping out of the bathroom and heading back to his room without a sound.

Sleep came a bit easier.

 

                                                                                                                                ********

 

“Fucking hell. Seokjin! Call Minho! We need a healer, stat,” Namjoon’s voice shouted, echoing across the house along with a scream. Jimin jerked awake at the shrill sound, sobs filling the once still house as footsteps rushed through the house. “Hurry!”

Jimin pushed himself up, eyes widening at the sound of agonized cries, garbled pleas, and desperate sobs traveled throughout the house. His heart ended up in his throat at the familiar voice, now laced with pain, tugged harshly at his heartstrings.

Taehyung.

The sound of Yoongi’s door opening and his fast footsteps rushed past jimin’s door, and he wasn’t far behind. His collarbone ached a bit at the fast movement as he threw open the door, breathing labored with panic as another scream tore through the house.

Namjoon was shouting for Jin, who sounded frantic as he followed the original order to call the Mender. “Where is fucking Hoseok? Jungkook? Taemin?” Namjoon shouted, voice hoarse and barely able to keep the shake of panic out of it.

“Hoseok hasn’t come back yet,” Yoongi shouted back. Jimin darted down the steps, hands shaking and heart stuttering in his chest. He rounded the corner to the living room and he wished he hadn’t.

The repugnant scent of burnt flesh, singed hair, and blood slammed into his senses. Tears sprung instantly from Jimin’s eyes at the strong smell that nearly sent him to his knees. It burned at his throat and prickled at his nose.

Taehyung was lying across the living room floor. His body was burned, practically melting off. His right side of his face was almost not there,the skin welted and red to the point you couldn’t even tell it was Tae.

His shirt was stuck to his melted skin, mostly burned off on one side and his pants in the same shape. He was writhing, convulsing in agony across the floor as he begged and pleaded past his garbled lips that were as mangled at the rest of him.

Yoongi was standing off to the side, face pinched and eyes watery as he watched the younger struggle to breath past the pain. His fists were clenched by his sides as he stared helplessly.

Namjoon was kneeling next to Tae, hands like he wanted to touch him but was terrified to hurt him. He had tears rolling freely down his cheeks, Tae’s wails continuing to react throughout the room.

Jimin couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His stomach rolled, clutching at his throat again in warning as he fell to his knees, staring in horror at his friend. He may not have known Tae long, but he felt his heart stop.

“N-nam…” tae choked out, wheezing painfully as his hand that wasn’t badly burned reached pathetically out numbly in the direction of the leader, who took his hand instantly, giving it a gentle squeeze. “whers jungkookie?” Tae slurred, words barely recognizable.

“He’s coming, Tae-ah. He’s coming. Jin called him, you’re gonna be alright. We called Minho. He’s gonna heal you,” Namjoon promised, biting back a sob as he held Tae’s hand close. Tae tried to smile, but as soon as his burned lips pulled he broke back into a another cry.

Yoongi shoved his fist in his mouth, teeth biting harshly across the knuckles as Namjoon tired to offer comfort to the suffering boy, but it just wasn’t working. He was in absolute agony. Jin was standing in the doorway, staring absently at nothing, phone clutched to his chest as he worried endlessly. Swallowing thickly, ignoring the way his stomach churned and throat was tight, Jimin hurried by Tae’s side.

He didn’t know what else to do, but to do whatever he did when Jihyun was sick. He would always sing to him, touch his hair and give him something to listen to. He never liked his voice, but jihyun always asked for it, just like they asked for his dancing.

If this was something that could help Tae too, he was damn well gonna do it. “It’s gonna be okay, TaeTae-ah, I’m right here,” he promised quietly, scooting closer so Tae can feel his presence. Tae leaned his head towards the sound of Jimin’s voice, whimpering pathetically.

Taking a deep breath, clearing his throat, Jimin opened his mouth and sang.

“무것도 생각하지 마
넌 아무 말도 꺼내지도 마
그냥 내게 웃어줘
난 아직도 믿기지가 않아
이 모든 게 다 꿈인 것 같아
사라지려 하지마
Is it true? Is it true?
You, you 너무 아름다워 두려워
Untrue, untrue, you, you, you
곁에 머물러줄래 (줄래)
내게 약속해줄래 (줄래)
손 대면 날아갈까 부서질까 겁나 겁나 겁나
시간을 멈출래 (줄래)
이 순간이 지나면 (지나면)
없었던 일이 될까 널 잃을까 겁나 겁나 겁나
Butterfly, like a butterfly
마치 butterfly, bu butterfly 처럼
Butterfly, like a butterfly
마치 butterfly, bu butterfly 처럼
넌 마치 butterfly (butterfly, butterfly)
멀리서 훔쳐봐 손 닿으면 널 잃을까
이 칠흑 같은 어둠 속 날 밝히는 나비효과
니 작은 손짓 한 번에 현실을 잊어 난
살며시 쓰다듬는 바람 같아
살포시 표류하는 먼지 같아
넌 거기 있지만 왠지 닿지 않아 stop
꿈 같은 넌 내게 butterfly, high
Untrue, untrue, you, you, you
곁에 머물러줄래 (줄래)
내게 약속해줄래 (줄래)
손 대면 날아갈까 부서질까 겁나 겁나 겁나
시간을 멈출래 (줄래)
이 순간이 지나면 (지나면)
없었던 일이 될까 널 잃을까 겁나 겁나 겁나
심장은 메마른 소리를 내
꿈인지 현실인지 알 수 없네
나의 해변의 카프카여
저기 숲으로…”

When he went quiet, his cheeks burned but Tae had at least fallen silent. He wasn’t writhing around as much, but his chest rose and fell with shallow breathes. Jimin frowned in concern, but Namjoon shot him a reassuring and grateful look just when Jungkook’s voice rang out.

“Taehyung! TAEHYUNG!” Jimin turned as Jungkook ran into the living room, crumbling in front of the boy as he screamed in horror. Tae tried to move, reaching out blindly with his good hand towards Jungkook, who instantly took it and lathered it with kisses. “I’m here, handsome. I’m here. Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry. Oh god, Tae.”

Hobi burst into the room next, followed by Taemin. Hobi’s face went white, a cry lodging in his throat before he sank to the floor, curling his legs to his chest as he stared at the scene. Taemin placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to offer comfort, but concern and regret showed through the lines on his face.

Jungkook couldn’t stop crying, clutching to Tae’s hand loosely, despite the fact his knuckles were white from being reined back. Tae was moaning, trying to be as still as possible and every now and then gasping as more agony went through him.

Namjoon rubbed Jungkook’s back, but Jungkook just shoved it away, red eyes sending a snarl in the leader's direction when he fell back. “Don’t fucking touch me. Why in the fuck did you send Taehyung without a Combat Spark? Without god damn backup?” He shouted, rage and spittle flying as he glared at him.

“I wasn’t expecting the Igniter to still be there. I thought that Tae could-”

“He isn’t a fucking Combat Spark, Namjoon. He’s a Bridge! He is helpless against someone like Jamison! YOU sent him out there with a fucking dog?” Jungkook snarled, baring his teeth as he shook from the anger coursing through him.

“Jungkook, please-” Jin started, reaching out to touch the youngest, but the raven haired male wasn’t having any of it. He jerked away from the blond male, growling low in his throat. Jin squeaked and stepped back, flinching at whatever thoughts he was reading off the youngest.

“Don’t you dare, Seokjin. Don’t even try and defend him. Taehyung is dying because you couldn’t get your heads out of your asses, and think. LOOK AT HIM!” Jungkook screamed, gesturing towards the writhing boy who was moaning louder, breathes becoming a bit more laboured.

Jin’s lip trembled, hands clasped desperately in front of him as he glanced over at Tae, back at Namjoon who was glaring at the floor before returning his eyes towards the raging Spark who looked ready to kill.

Yoongi’s eyes were darting between the three, tongue darting out to wet his lips and shifting from foot to foot, eyes flickering behind him where an escape route was open. He looked scared, too afraid to move and draw attention to himself.

But not even that was enough to stop Jungkook’s wrath.

“As for you, if you got your head out of your ass, this wouldn't have happened,” Jungkook barked, throwing a finger towards the white haired male. Yoongi’s eyes narrowed, jaw clenching tightly. “You think you’re better than us, but you aren’t. Why did you even bother to leave Iron Clad if you aren’t going to fucking help us!”

The whole room fell silent, a curse falling from Jin’s lips as he made a move to lunge in front of Yoongi, but he wasn’t fast enough. Yoongi moved alarmingly fast as he grabbed the front of the younger's shirt and brought him close, a threat hanging heavy in the air.

Jungkook didn’t even blink. He met Yoongi’s gaze evenly, a challenged gleam in his eyes as Yoongi snarled in his face. His dark eyes blazed, hands clenched around the younger's shirt as he kept his voice cold, steady, and quiet.

Jimin was panicking. He didn’t know what to do, or how to stop this. Hoseok looked shocked, eyes as large as saucers, mouth agape, while Taemin didn’t look much better. Namjoon’s brows furrowed in confusion while Jin looked away from Namjoon’s prying eyes.

“You think you know everything, Jeon Jungkook, but don’t forget I know all about you too. If you want to put the blame on someone, start looking in the mirror. Open your fucking mouth again, and I will bring you to the ground,” Yoongi stated, voice sending shivers of fear through Jimin’s blood.

Jungkook bared his teeth, shoving at Yoongi but the male didn’t even budge. He remained like a rock. “I will do it. Let me go,” Jungkook warned. Jimin’s heart increased but Yoongi only smirked.

“Do it. Use that power while I am touching you and kill everyone in this room- including your boyfriend. Feel free,” Yoongi countered, voice laced with honey, barely concealing the vinegar. Jungkook let out an enraged cry as he shoved Yoongi again, once more, which caused the male to release him.

“Fuck you, you bastard.”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Namjoon shouted, causing the entire room to go silent except the harsh breathing of Tae, who seemed to have fallen unconscious. Jimin couldn’t breathe, staring in horror at Namjoon’s look. He looked almost murderous. “How is any of this going to help Taehyung? Yoongi, take a walk. We will talk about… this… later.”

“There is nothing to talk about. Jungkookie here said it all,” Yoongi snarked, smiling sweetly in the youngest direction. Jin’s eyes blew wide, moving to intersect the male but Yoongi stepped out of the way.

“Yoongi, don’t.”

“Stay the hell out of my head, Kim Seokjin,” Yoongi demanded before meeting’ Namjoon’s narrowed gaze with a cold smirk plastered on his face. “You heard the kid. I was a part of Iron Clad. One of the top members of the faction. You wanna know what Jin saw six months ago? Every one of you fuckers I helped kill. The humans I killed. The Iron Clad members I helped. Poor Jungkookie here just happened to see it too.”

“Yoongi, please, stop. Not now,” Jin hissed, but Yoongi kept ignoring him.

“But Jungkookie here has his own blood on his hands. But how could such a cutie like him do that? Am I right?” Jungkook’s jaw tightened, eyes like slits as he looked away. Namjoon looked taken aback. Yoongi turned his gaze back to Tae, softening a bit before walking away without another word.

The sound of the door slamming to his room was the only thing that followed. Jungkook was the first to move, bending back down next to Tae and gently taking his good hand, but the poor lilac haired still whimpered and moaned helplessly at the light touch.

Tears began to trail down Jungkook’s face, but he remained silent. Jin was looking anywhere but at Namjoon, who was searching his husbands features for anything to give away knowledge, but Jin wasn’t. Hobi was remaining silent, and Taemin seemed to have poofed out  a while ago.

Luckily before any words were said, Minho had appeared in the room, Taemin holding his arm. Minho’s face was blank, eyes instantly soaking in the situation as Jungkook looked up, lip quivering. He had returned to being a scared little boy.

Minho had a scowl etched into his features. “I need Yoongi.” Jungkook frowned but didn’t argue. Instead, he kissed the back of Tae’s hand and stood slowly, moving to head up the steps. Minho grabbed his arm, stopping him. He wouldn’t look at the younger. “Jungkook. This will be painful. Taehyung’s skin is destroyed. I am not only mending him, but creating new skin. You are aware of this?”

“Vividly.” Minho let go, remorse clear across his expression as he looked over at Namjoon.

“No one should be in the room. This is going to be a long process. All of his nerves are either broken, damaged, or need to be completely redone. His skin will take the most time to heal and the most painful since it will start on the inside. I want everyone out except for me and Yoongi.” Minho narrowed his eyes in warning. “Keep Jungkook out.”

“Of course.” Namjoon stood carefully, looking back down at tae with guilt and affection. “Don’t worry, Tae-ah. It will be over soon.” Jin wandered over and kissed his forehead, muttering words of encouragement to the boy who woke up, pain clear across his features. Hobi was flinching, face a mask of agony as he stood and hurried out of the room.

“S-soonshim…” Tae slurred. Jin’s eyes widened before a cry tore through his lips, a hand barely covering his mouth in time. It didn’t take a genius to know what Jin had heard. All it took was a look at Tae’s face to know the white German Shepherd wasn’t here.

Jungkook came back down, dragging a resigned Yoongi who took his place next to Tae. As if on cue, Namjoon grabbed Jungkook’s arm as they fled to the kitchen. Jimin hurried after them, glancing back at Yoongi once, concern for the male halting his steps.

His eyes were puffy, red from crying and trying to get rid of the evidence. His shoul;ders were sagged, small body seemingly smaller than usual. His eyes were dull, the brown no longer sharp but withdrawn, and his lips curled downwards. He sat numbly, absent, and it hurt Jimin.

Without thinking, the raven haired Empower stepped over to him, kneeling beside the white haired male. He didn’t touch, but the desire ran strong too, but he heeded Yoongi’s warning. Dark, sad eyes turned towards him.

“Hyung… it isn’t your fault. Jungkook is just upset… he didn’t mean it,” Jimin whispered, offering a weak smile. Yoongi sighed, closing his eyes and turning his head away from him. Licking his lips, Jimin fought to continue. “People do stupid things when they are-”

“Jimin,” Yoongi interrupted. His voice was quiet, dead, but it made his voice stop, eyes wide. “You think you know things, but you don’t. You don’t know anything. You’re a stupid kid. You don’t know me, you don’t know my life. Take you philosophical shit and shove it.”

Jimin stared at him, picking out the small things that he was sure Yoongi didn’t see, but he could. He could beauce he saw them every time he looked in the mirror. The little cracks in the facade, streaking across the face that had been blank a little too long. Eyes a little too lost.  

It was funny, how similar they were. Two creatures, so different, and yet shared one thing in common. Plagued by a darkness, something that holds them, maybe even changed them.

Tragically broken.

Jimin wasn’t mad at Yoongi anymore. In way, he understood. He was put off and distant. Rude and harsh, but that wasn’t who he was and that was obvious. He was just pretending, like Jimin pretended.

He felt connected.

“I get it now. You like the pain, don’t you?” Jimin asked, breaking the tense silence. Yoongi’s eyes blinked open, flicking back towards the Empower as his mouth twisted. Jimin gave a sad smile. “You like it because you think you deserve it.”

Yoongi clucked his tongue, shaking his head as he turned away. Jimin took his cue to leave, scurrying out to join Jin, Namjoon, Hobi, and Jungkook in the kitchen where they stood around.

A scream followed as soon as Jimin stepped foot in, and with it, his heart broke. Hobi flinched, a sniffle following as he lowered himself to the ground, leaning against the cabinets while his head leaned back, eyes closed.

Jungkook was gritting his teeth, crystal tears glittering in the low light. Jin was facing the kitchen sink, staring absently out the window, lost within the maze of his thoughts and probably others as stared at nothing.

Namjoon was staring at the ground, features pinched and mouth pressed into a firm line. The air was still, unmoving and unbearable, each scream worse than the last, the begging for the pain to stop and choked sobs from the usually bright lilac male shredding everyone's minds.

Jimin wandered over to Hobi first, settling himself next to him and curling himself by his side. Hobi wordlessly lifted his arm and wrapped it around his shoulder, letting the younger lay his head on his shoulder.

Another wail sounded, causing everyone in the room to flinch, Hobi’s arm tightened as Jimin sat up, looking towards the living room where two people he cared greatly about were, one in great pain.

“Do you get it now?” Hobi asked quietly, looking down at the floor. Jimin looked back at the male with trembling lips. Distress was clear across his features. “Iron Clad is desperate, dangerous. They were trying to kill Tae.”

“But… why?” Jimin cried, shaking his head in disbelief. He didn’t get this. This wasn’t right. Was this really happening? Under everyone’s noses? Kids like the ones around him now, dying, fighting, doing shit like this and no one even knowing?

It seemed so absurd.

“Do you really think it goes unnoticed?” Jin asked tiredly, turning away from the window to look over at Jimin who lifted his head to meet the males. He bit his lip and looked away. “Terrorists attacks, building fires, collapses, kidnapping with all those amber alerts. Some of them, yes, are Carnals. But the others? The countries fighting for ‘religious reasons’? No. That’s all Sparks. But this was a warning.”

“It’s why we need you,” Joon sighed. Namjoon clenched his fists, shaking his head desperately. “This Faction has always been strong, put together. We relied on one another. But today? I watched it fall apart in front of my eyes, just like six months ago.”

“Joonie…” Jin murmured, eyes widening with hurt as he reached out to touch his husband. Namjoon took his hand and pulled him close, cradling the male in his arms. “It’s not your fault…”

“Yes it is. Jungkook was right. I shouldn’t have sent Tae on his own and now…” As if to make a point, another wail, shrill and desperate went through the air. Namjoon bit back a sob at the sound. “Tae is suffering because of my foolishness.”

“No,” Jimin whispered. Namjoon and Jin paused, both eyes darting towards the raven haired Empower with a startled expression. Jimin met their gaze evenly. “It isn’t you fault. It’s mine. I haven’t been trying enough. Yoongi was right- I am a liability. Tae is hurt because you didn’t have the manpower because I needed to be watched. I get it now, Hyungs. Iron Clad is… horrible, and I don’t want Tae, or anyone else like my family to suffer from them.”

“Jimin,” Jungkook breathed, eyes wide in surprise while Jin just gave a proud smile. Namjoon nodded, understanding stark in his gaze as he turned to look at Jungkook. The youngest caught the look and glanced away.

“I don’t care what happened earlier between you and Yoongi- but whatever the fuck it was, handle it on your own. This is a faction, a team, and a family. I do not want to witness turning against one another in my presence again. I can forgive you for yelling at me, but do not take your frustrations out on others. Understood?” Namjoon stated, eyeing the younger with a deadly gleam.

“Yes, hyung,” Jungkook replied.

“I’ll speak with Yoongi about this later- but please remember, what we agreed on when we formed this Faction. Our past is our past, and we are going to be the future. Therefore keep others pasts to yourself, Jungkook. Yoongi would have said something in time,” Namjoon finished. Hobi bit his lip, looking troubled.

“Would he have?” He asked, looking up at the leader with sad eyes. Jin flinched at the question, sinking his face back into the collarbone of Namjoon as he gripped at his shirt. Namjoon let him, tightening his arms around him. “We know Yoongi. He has always been this distant guy. He may have opened up a little, but he still… Joon-ah, I don’t really know anything about him.”

“He’s saved my life,” Jin said, muffled from Namjoon’s shirt. Hobi looked back at the male who peeked out of the hold and offered a weak smile. “He saved your life too. I think knowing and seeing are two different things.”

“He was still a part of Iron Clad, Eomma. He still killed,” Jungkook reminded him. Jin glanced over at him, eyes smoldering as he slipped out of Namjoon’s hold, but the male wasn’t letting Jin leave all the way as he slipped his arms around his waist and kept him near, nuzzling his neck gently.

“Kookie-ah, we have all done things and you know it.” Jungkook bit his lip, but nodded carefully, before looking back at the ground. Jin glanced around the room, letting his eyes linger on those he has known, helped care for for a long time. There was a determination there as he finally stopped at Jimin. “We are Bangtan. We may have struggles, and we may have our issues, but fuck all of that. We have each other. And we do not back down. We will not lose. Not each other.”

 

                                                                                                                      ********



Jimin wasn’t sure how many hours had past, or how long they had been huddled in the kitchen where Jimin had somehow managed to have his legs draped across Jungkook who was lying his head across Jimin’s shoulder while Jimin was lying across Namjoon who was smiling gently at him and keeping him up as the screams of Tae slowly diminished into silence.

It was long into the afternoon, the sun slowly disappearing behind the mountain and drenching the kitchen in shadowed, orange light as they remained huddled together, listening and waiting with bated breathe.

His stomach was growling but the idea of food was unpromising, and the cut across his collarbone ached a bit from the position but he ignored it as he soaked in the touch of his hyungs, soaked in the simple affection they were offering.

It felt so good. To be loved by someone other than Baek and Jihyun. But the worry and concern that was eating away at his insides for Tae was nauseating. It had been quiet for a little too long now. No screams, no pleads.

The silence was almost worse.

Jimin could feel how Jungkook was tense, feel the bulging muscles of his legs under his own, and how Jungkook’s eyes hadn’t wavered from the kitchen archway, steely and immobile. Jin was antsy, shifting every few minutes and eyes flickering towards Jungkook and back towards the living room.

Finally, a exhausted looking Minho appeared just as the sun was almost hidden, daylight dwindling and moon coming out to play albeit a bit shyly as he stumbled into the kitchen. His hair was a mess, body looking eager to collapse and not move an inch as he leaned heavily against the wall for support.

The group stood quickly, Jungkook stepping forward with large, doe-like eyes, searching desperate for news of Tae. Once again, Jimin was struck by his youth, by the fact he was merely a child and it made it all the worse.

Minho gave a weak smile. “Taehyung will be alright. He passed out from the pain a couple of hours ago. I had managed to seal most of his skin and regrow most of  it. However, there was a patch on the back that was too far gone to recreate. He will be marked there forever, I am sorry, but his face and everywhere else is healed. He asleep now- his body is fine, but he will be a bit sore and not want to move. It went through a lot today.”

Jungkook let out a choked sob, relief causing his shoulders to sag. Jimin took the opportunity to reach over and pull the much taller boy into a hug, letting the younger cling to him a second as Jin and Namjoon embraced in relief.

Minho smiled a bit wider at the scene. “Yoongi is doing alright, a little weak and can’t move much either. I drew quite a bit from him today so he may need some as well. But he will be fine. Just really tired.”

Jimin felt concern well up in his chest not only for Tae, but for the white haired male as he nodded quickly. Jungkook sniffled a moment, glancing back at Minho. “Can I… go see him?”

“Of course. As I said, he fell unconscious a while ago but he will probably wake up soon. He will want a bath too. His skin will feel a bit weird and he will be incredibly sensitive, so beware.” Jungkook nodded in understanding before releasing Jimin’s hold and hurrying to the living room. Minho watched with a tired smile as Namjoon went over and helped to sit.

Jimin left them to their devices, worry numbly eating at his mind for his two friends.  When he rounded the corner, he nearly sighed in relief himself. Yoongi was lying on his back, close to where Tae was lying stretched out, hands clasped together loosely in sleep.

Tae was wearing what looked like a pile of clean clothes which consisted of a white tee, sweats, and socks on his feet. His hair had been regrown, the purple gone from the regrowth and instead a dark brown color which Jimin assumed was his actual hair color.

His skin was a little pink, looked brand new and still sensitive but healed. His face was serene, calm and content. Jimin nearly cried out in relief that no permanent damage had been done to his face. He looked healthy again.

Yoongi looked drained. His eyes were closed, face pinched, and dark circles under his eyes. His skin was a bit pale and he wasn’t moving an inch. For a moment, Jimin was worried that Yoongi was the one needing a healer now.

Jungkook rushed to Tae’s side, gently touching the boys cheek with shaky, worried hands. Tae exhaled lightly, eyes fluttering open and blinking a moment before settling across the raven haired.

“J-jung...kookie…” he croaked. His voice was deeper than usual, cracking and slurred. He flinched a bit, but leaned into Jungkook’s feather touch across his cheek. Jungkook brushed his thumb over the curve of his cheek, smiling brightly.

“Shh, it’s alright, Handsome. I’m here,” Jungkook promised, cupping Tae’s cheek and staring at his features with a fondness that made Jimin’s heart flutter with happiness. Tae offered, even though it was smaller than usual, a bright smile despite the fact he was working hard to keep his entire body still.

Jimin turned away, kneeling next to Yoongi, whose eyes fluttered open with a groan as his breathe hitched. Jimin placed a shaky hand on Yoongi’s clothed arm, despite the warning in his mind not to, as Yoongi turned his gaze towards him.

“Hey,” Jimin whispered, getting to his knees next to him. Yoongi was quiet, dark orbs never leaving. Taking this as a okay, he brushed Yoongi’s hair from his eyes with a feather touch, watching in fascination as the male closed his eyes. “You okay?”

He couldn’t believe the Spark was allowing this contact. This moment of weakness to be shone. He wondered how long it would last, how long Jimin had to enjoy the nicer side of the male. The side that kept Jimin coming back.

“Tired… can’t.... Move,” he whispered back, gruff voice slurring a bit as he leaned into touch. Yoongi then turned towards Tae, tightening his hand a bit around Tae’s that hadn’t moved. Tae slowly turned his head, meeting Yoongi’s gaze. Relief caused his tense body to relax against the carpet. “Tae…”

“Hyung,” Tae answered. No other words were stated as the two stared at each other before Jungkook met Yoongi’s gaze, doe eyes swimming with tears. Yoongi stared back, face carefully blank before the younger moved and threw his arms around Yoongi.

Yoongi let out a harsh exhale, but carefully lifted a noodle arm to wrap around Jungkook who didn’t move, just tightening his hold around his hyung as he held on tightly. Yoongi blinked back crystal droplets, soaking in the touch.

Jimin took this moment to crawl over to Tae, taking his hand and squeezing it. Tae grinned tiredly at him. “How are you feeling, TaeTae-ah? I was so worried!” Jimin told him. Tae only turned a bit sad.

“I’m okay… have you seen Soonshim?” Tae asked, craning his head and looking around nervously. But there was no sign of the dog. Jimin bit his lip as he watched Tae slowly realize that Soonshim wasn’t here. “He… he didn’t make it. Did he?”

“I… haven’t seen him, Tae,” Jimin confessed. He watched as Tae bit his lip and stared back at the ceiling. His eyes glistened with tears before sliding down his cheeks. Jungkook pulled away from Yoongi, returning to Tae’s side as Namjoon and Jin watched from afar, knowing they needed thi stime.

Yoongi shifted, looking like he was trying to stand, but he merely went back to going still. Jimin returned to his side, touching his shoulder. The elder opened his eyes and looked up at him.

“Here, Hyung, let me help. Just this once,” Jimin promised, offering his eye smile. Yoongi hesitated, looking conflicted and troubled, but Jimin shook his head. “Only once you grouchy turtle. You really think I wanna carry your lazy ass all the way to the bathroom and help you bathe? Um, no.”

“Whatever you midget.”

“I am literally a centimeter shorter than you, hyung,” Jimin sighed, but couldn’t stop the smile that was breaking out across his features at the easy banter. Yoongi only shrugged and smiled cheekily, revealing his pink gums.

“Best centimeter ever, kid.”

“Maybe I will leave your stinky ass down here,” Jimin pouted, removing his arms to help him. Yoongi moaned, somewhat playful that sent Jimin back to his side with a sassy grin. “Looks like someone does need this.”

Yoongi kept quiet as Jimin wrapped an around his waist, trying really hard to not think about the fact he could feel his cheeks warming at the nice feeling Yoongi’s slim waist before helping the elder stand.

The white haired male leaned heavily against Jimin, legs wobbly and arm around Jimin’s shoulders while Jungkook carefully swept Tae into his arms, causing a small cry to leave his lips from his still sore body. Jungkook flinched.

“I’m sorry, Tae-ah.”

‘It’s.. okay. I just… wanna sleep,” Tae mumbled, curling into his chest. Jungkook nodded before carefully heading for the stairs while Jimin and Yoongi followed much slower behind. Namjoon cast them a glance, looking over Yoongi with a worried frown.

“Don’t look so worried, you tree. Go fuck your hubby,” Yoongi joked, offering a smirk in his direction. Jin broke out into relieved laughter, despite his red cheeks as he moved to swat the pale male who only shrugged.

The stairs were the hardest, Yoongi’s legs were shaky and barely able to hold his weight. His exhaustion was apparent, barely able to keep his head up. Jimin fought hard, happy that for once he was coming in handy as they finally made it to the bathroom, helping settle Yoongi on the toilet.

“I’m gonna start your bath, hyung,” Jimin stated, slipping away to hurry to the large tub and plug it up. He could feel the familiar piercing eyes on his back, watching his movements like a cat watches, and as usual, he was ignoring the way his stomach fluttered with little butterflies.

Why is he making me so nervous? It’s just Yoongi.

Jimin checked the temperature with his fingers, wondering how it came to this. Before Yoongi would have slaughtered where he stood then let Jimin anywhere near helping him, let alone start his bath.

“Why are you helping me?” Yoongi’s voice broke the tranquility of the bathroom. Jimin paused, glancing back at the tired male with a little smile.

“Why wouldn’t I help you?” Jimin asked, genuinely confused even though he had a pretty good idea. Yoongi rolled his eyes, mumbling under his breathe about a cheeky brat as Jimin bit back giggles.

“I’m pretty sure I have made it obvious that I don’t like you,” Yoongi deadpanned. Jimin only smirked and shook his head. Yoongi frowned heavily at Jimin’s smug look. “What? What is that face for?”

“Actually, you made it obvious that you don’t want people to get close to you- that has nothing to do with dislike Hyung. You think being mean to me will make me stay away? It will only make me try harder to show you that I want to help,” Jimin replied simply with a shrug. Yoongi sighed and shook his head.

“You… are an idiot.”

“I’ve been called worse,” Jimin countered, turning back to check the water. The burning in his back wasn’t wavering, and it made his blood thrum in his ears.

“I don’t understand you, Park Jimin.”

He couldn’t help it. Jimin broke into laughter at the words, the words he has been saying from the beginning as he turned back to look at the male. Yoongi had his gummy smile on display, eyes a bit droopy.

“I don’t understand you either, Min Yoongi.” Yoongi huffed, moving to lift his shirt. Jimin’s mouth suddenly became the sahara desert as he saw a flash of smooth, pale skin of his stomach when a throat cleared, brow arched.

“If you are waiting for a strip show, kid, it isn’t going to be today.” Face matching a tomato, Jimin squeaked and scurried out of the bathroom, nearly tripping over air as he scrambled out. Yoongi’s laughter followed as he closed the door, wondering if it was still an option to throw himself off the train or out the window.

Chapter Text

Sweat was pouring from Jimin, body aching in ways he never thought it would considering he been through so much as a dancer, but that seemed to mean nothing in the face of this.

The usually hot, unmerciful august air has lessened a bit, but in no way easier to handle as they stood outside in the backyard, back in their training clothes, and his shirt drenched in his own sweat as he fought for breath, chest aching.

Jungkook stood in front of him, black hair plastered to the sides of his face, sweat glistening across his brow as he stood. His dark orbs were light, dancing with mirth and amusement as he watched Jimin groan from where he was kneeled over, hands on knees.

“Come on, Hyung. Remember what I told you. Hands up. Protect your face and ribs,” Jungkook reminded for probably the thousandth time and Jimin swore if he heard it one more time he would scream.

He swallowed down the scream anyway.

“I am… not… a fighter,” he wheezed, lifting his aching body to run a hand through his disgustingly sweaty black hair that he still wanted to dye. He just hadn’t had the time to ask anyone about it. “I’m not made for this kinda stuff.”

Jungkook gave a cheeky grin, nose scrunched. “Neither was Eomma, but even he could stand in a fight with me.” Jimin huffed, hardly amused, as he groaned again. Jungkook was making his body black and blue, he knew it, and they already told him they don’t call a Mender for bruises. This was training.

Apparently, you learn from pain.

It has been three days since Tae returned nearly dead, and another day since Namjoon confirmed Soonshim’s death. It had destroyed Taehyung further, causing the male to revert to hanging out in his room to mourn.

Jimin, however, had been taking turns training with others. It was pure torture. Jungkook was the best at hand-to-hand combat, so Jimin started the mornings with him. He first started with basic maneuvers, defense stances and defense moves, and just today started teaching offensive moves and how to attack.

His legs and chest were decorated with bruises, muscles feeling like a limb noodle from the constant onslaught of the younger coming at him and him desperately trying to remember his defense moves while trying to find an opening for an attack.

“Again, hyung. This isn’t playtime, remember? You told Appa that you want to learn to fight, learn to help us,” Jungkook stated, parting his legs and raising his fists in a fighter’s stance. On reflex, Jimin went into his own. “Feet further apart, raise your arms a bit. Thumbs not tucked into your hand unless you want them broken.”

Jimin obeyed, steeling his insides for another harsh attack. It was fast. Jungkook lunged forward, right hand shouting out for a throat jab. Jimin moved fast, shifting his body weight to the left and knocking his hand out of the reach, but Jungkook was expecting it.

The youngest twisted his body, fist raised and sent it straight to Jimin’s unprotected gut. Air was knocked from his lungs as his eyes widened at the sudden pain. Jungkook clucked his tongue as he sent out his right leg, going to tuck it between Jimin’s, but he remembered this move well.

Despite the lack of air, Jimin jumped back, raised his hand and sent a throat punch towards Jungkook before his leg could fly. Jungkook pushed his hand away, retracting the side kick and instead adjusting his body a bit more to throw a different kick to the solar plexis.

Panic startled Jimin a moment as he ducked his head, barely missing Jungkook’s leg as he instead charged a bit more and attempted a throw to the chin. Jungkook grunted with the force of the impact, stumbling back a bit before coming back full force.

Jimin gasped another punched was delivered to his gut, hand gripping his back as the younger shifted and lifted his knee to meet Jimin’s solar plexis. The air was instantly gone from his lungs as he collapsed to the ground, fighting for breath with tears in his eyes.

Jungkook instantly dropped the stance, kneeling next to him with a slightly apologetic expression across his face. “Sorry Hyung. But you’re getting better! You actually got a pretty decent hit in. I’ll be bruised there for a while,” Jungkook promised. Jimin only offered a shaky smile.

They remained like that for a few more minutes, Jimin finally evening out his breathe despite the fact it still ached. As it slowly evened out, the heat still blistering across his skin lessening as he laid on the grass, Jungkook helped him up.

“You are getting better, hyung. Really.”

“Oh my gut totally agrees.” Jimin winced, wrapping an arm around his waist with a light sigh. Jungkook offered that smile again, seemingly amused. Jimin only smiled back, relieved that the lesson was over. “Come on. I want some of Jinie Hyungs lemonade.”

Jungkook laughed, but agreed as they moved towards the house that was looming a bit in the distance. They walked side by side, thoughts seeming to drift a bit. Jungkook’s brow was furrowed, lips curved downward in thought as he stared absently down at the ground.

This wasn’t uncommon. Everyone seemed to be a bit lost without Taehyung’s bright and somewhat… bizarre personality echoing throughout the house. The youngest took the biggest hit. He didn’t speak as much without his partner around, reverted to being quiet and withdrawn, smiled less.

Worry was etched into the lines of his youthful face, ancient eyes lost and searching for the bright box smile that was usually throughout every room but now the house was quieter, subdued, and just a little bit sadder.

Jimin hated to admit it, but even Mr. Grouchy Turtle himself seemed to hate the quiet that had fallen over the house, but he would never admit it out loud, but it wasn’t hard to guess. He would frown more, eyes darting towards the stairs where Taehyung had shut himself in.

He barely even let Jungkook in.

It amazed him. How the affect of one person could affect the entire house. Jin cooked more, constantly making foods and cleaning the house when he wasn’t training Jimin. Namjoon hardly left his room either, working on hacking and locating Iron Clad.

Jimin suspected he was working harder, pushing his body to the limit to get rid of the guilt that jungkook had installed within his mind. Namjoon hardly even made it to breakfast in the morning, barely crawled out to use the bathroom or eat.

Jin literally had him by his ear until he ate an entire sandwich he made for lunch.

Yoongi seemed restless. Which was remarkable in itself. He paced the living room sometimes, eyeing the place where Tae had laid to be healed. Other times he would cluck his tongue and settle himself down only to huff and move again.

Even he was affected. Jimin missed him. He missed the random cuddles, the barging in his room without even a knock and how he would scramble to put on clothes while Tae rambled about something he found or did or even about Jungkook himself and it was charming.

Three days of that and it had made a rock settled within his heart, missing the boy who was his same age and already someone Jimin considered a best friend, a brother in every sense of the word.

“Hey hyung,” Jungkook suddenly spoke up, startling Jimin out of his thoughts and back into reality as the younger slowed to a stop, the back door a 100 feet away. Jimin paused, glancing back with raised brows in question at the younger.

“Kook-ah?”

“Tae… really likes you, you know?” Jungkook started slowly, gaze dropping to the ground while his hands played with the hem of his shirt. Jimin’s face morphed into surprise, before shifting back towards the younger unsurely. “You’re the same age… and he respects you for what you have done. What you can do.”

“Kook-ah…”

“No, let me finish,” he pleaded, raising his head to show glittering brown eyes. Jimin fell quiet, nodding slowly while his mouth felt dry and chest aching for the male in front of him. “Tae… he… his Spark power is the known as the weakest. A joke in the Spark world. He is always working to make himself better. To mean something to someone. To not disappoint his dad who is a Silver Tongue.”

Jimin couldn’t believe his ears. Tae’s power being considered a joke? That couldn’t be. The ability to speak and persuade animals? What was to joke about? He had seen fucking coyotes cuddle to that kid.

“Tae loves his dad, hyung, and his dad adores him too. His mom is human and a wonderful woman. She loves her children very much. But Tae was the only one out of three born a Spark so far. He left them to grow stronger, to fight for his dad’s beliefs that we belong with humans,” Jungkook kept going, voice strained with emotion as he sniffled. The tears were blurring the youngers vision but he refused to let them fall. “He is here for his dad, and I already promised his mom that we would care for him. Hyung… I failed. He doesn’t belong here. He is suffering. His dad gave him Soonshim. It was his gift and I don’t know what to do.”

“Kook-ah,” Jimin whispered, instantly enveloping the younger in his arms. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate. He hugs him back and buries his face in his shoulder, even though he had to bend a bit to make sure he reached. “It is not your fault. I already said this, but it is no ones fault but Iron Clad. TaeTae-ah is strong. He will be alright. He just… he needs time.”

“H-he won’t let me in, hyung. I promised his mom, his brother, that I would make sure he never suffers, and that he will be okay. I failed them all,” he cried out, hands clutching desperately at Jimin’s sweaty shirt. “Hyung, he respects you. He listens to you. He keeps telling me about how good a person you are, and how you treat him good. Talk to him. Please.”

“I don’t really do anything, but I will try. I promise,” Jimin answered carefully, watching as Jungkook pulled away and searched his features. At nothing but sincerity, a smile returned to Jungkook's face before nodding. Jimin ruffled his hair playfully. “Now come on, let’s get some food before my torture with Yoongi starts.
“Oh yes, torture,” Jungkook cackled, cutting the smaller raven a smirk as he wiggled his brows at the suggestion. Jimin rolled his eyes and shoved his shoulder that sent the younger back into a cackling fit as he darted for the back door. “Don’t think I didn’t see you eyeing Yoongi hyung yesterday during your gun training.”

“Trick of the lighting.” Even he could hear his own bullshit as he flared red and scurried into the house with Jungkook’s laughter following him like the plague. But he couldn’t help it. There was something almost mesmerizing about Min Yoongi.

It was odd. Jimin knew by all bounds he was attracted to males. But there was something about the lean tones of this one, the smirk that seemed to be a constant on the male's face, the deep, gruff voice, and the large hands that made his seem like a little toddlers.

So, maybe, just maybe, he had been staring. Possibly some drool. But he was never going to admit that. Despite the fact the past three days since what happened in the bathroom and their relationship when from sheer hatred to mere annoyance and maybe some smiles didn’t change the fact Yoongi doesn’t give him the light of day.

“Someone has a crush~” Jungkook giggled, appearing again by Jimin’s side, dark eyes glinting with the usual mischief that Jimin was really not appreciating right now. “A crush on the lazy turtle no less.”

“You are a horrible person and there is a special place in hell for people like you,” Jimin deadpanned instantly. Jungkook’s smirk grew as he flashed a wink and clicked his tongue as they stepped into the blissful and wonderful thing called air conditioning.

The house was mostly quiet, except the rustling in the kitchen and living room, some music blasting from Hobi’s room which was apparently the biggest room in the house since he turned a part of it into a dance studio- much to Jimin’s delight. He planned to use it one day.

“You right. It’s called the throne, shortie.” Jimin groaned at the answer as Jungkook flashed another wink before darting away before the smaller could even make a grab for him. How could a kid two years younger be this buff, fucking muscle pig and like so much taller than him! It wasn’t fair.

“I swear I am going to get him one day,” Jimin muttered, nodding to himself as Jungkook ran up the stairs with his laughter following as he headed for the shower. Shaking his head, he drifted to the kitchen where Jin was pouring a glass of lemonade. “Hey Eomma.”

He wasn’t sure when he started picking up the habit that Jungkook had, but somehow within the three days, he switched from ‘jin hyung’ to ‘Eomma’. Maybe because ever since Tae was hurt, Jin had been literally babying everyone.

And overfeeding them too. Not that Jimin was complaining. The food was amazing- and already the kitchen smelled of something sweet and with blueberries. It seemed he had gone back to some American meals to try.

Jin turned at the sound of being called and broke into a smile as he held out a glass. “Hey Jiminie. Here, drink up,” he offered. Jimin took the glass with a bow to his head as he hoisted himself up on the counter and looked at the pan that held what looked like muffins. Jin followed his gaze. “Oh! I made blueberry muffins off this recipe I found. You must be hungry.”

“Sure. Pack two. I am going to go bring it to TaeTae-ah,” Jimin replied, remembering his promise to Jungkook from earlier. Jin blinked in surprise but smiled warmly as he placed two muffins on a plate and poured another glass of lemonade. “Do you think he will open up a bit? Kookie is taking it hard.”

“We all are. Tae has always been kinda the mood maker, other than Hobi.” Jin gave a sad smile as Jimin took it gratefully. Jin sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the counter. “Soonshim meant a lot to him and we don’t even have the body to bury. The police confiscated it. They think some kid was playing a horrid prank and burning animals alive.”

A sour taste filtered through his mouth at the words. Before all this, he might have read that and stated something about psycho kids and how could someone do that. But now he knows the truth. Has seen something, someone as precious as Tae, suffer an unimaginable amount of pain.

It made the determination to try a little harder resurface at the reminder of the injustice. Of the horror that lies within the earth. It was kinda amazing what the world could hide within it’s folds. Humans think they know everything out there, but they have no clue.

The world has it’s own secrets it seems.  

“Yes, it does. More than even Sparks know. Who knows, maybe one day Sparks will become known and maybe, just maybe, it won’t turn out the way it has in history. Maybe the world will finally have some peace,” Jin replied, startling Jimin a moment before remembering that Jin had access to his mind. He looked away, staring into the yellow sweet liquid with pursed lips.

“I don’t really believe in peace.”

Jin smiled, but it was a little bitter. “That’s okay. I don’t either. I only believe in what I know, and I know people. I know their thoughts. How they react to things, even if they don’t say it out loud. Maybe that is why I couldn’t follow in my family business.”

“Family business?”

“My father is a CEO. One of the major businesses in Korea and my older brothers all got pieces of the company. Me? I never felt like I belonged. I knew everyone’s thoughts. I could read them as soon as they met me.” He sighed and looked at the ground. “Imagine knowing that everyone hated my good looks, or thought I could get whatever just because of my looks. I wasn’t made for it.”

Jimin couldn’t imagine that. He already hated his own thoughts, let alone others. He heard enough ridicule to last him till he died. He couldn’t imagine hearing what others don’t even say out loud.

Jin gave another sad smile, and Jimin instantly knew he was reading his thoughts again, but this time he didn’t really care. He just looked away and cleared his throat.

“Was your family… Sparks?”

“My parents weren’t. My grandmother on my mother's side was,” he answered simply. Jimin nodded mutely as jin turned back towards the pan of muffins and began to put them on a plate. “So far Joon-ah has the theory that being a Spark is a recessive gene, in other words, someone down the line carried the gene and with time it evolved so that descendant will gain the ability. It can skip generations, like you for example, and others be born with it. Like me. None of my brothers have it, but as the youngest I have it. It’s merely a theory. No one knows for sure, not even Joonie. But I can believe it. It would make sense.”

Jimin hummed, brow furrowed in thought. He didn’t really know a lot of his family members. His dad had a falling out with most of his family and didn’t really have any siblings so he was an only child. His father died young of cancer and his mother died in childbirth. So Jimin didn’t really know his grandparents on his father's side.

He knew his grandparents, briefly, on his mother's side but since her death he hasn’t really spoken to them or even truly remember them. Could they be Sparks? He didn’t think so but he didn’t really know them and didn’t care to.

That would open up a floodgate of emotions he wasn’t ready to handle or deal with so he rather settle for guessing that someone must have been a Spark in his family and him just not know it.

“You better get going. Yoongi won’t wait for you and you still want to talk to Tae. We can talk more later, if you wish,” Jin reminded him urging him a bit. Jimin nodded quickly, jumping down from the counter and heading for the stairs towards Tae’s room.

It was Jimin’s first time entering Tae’s room, well, really any of their rooms. He never really ventured past the doors of any of them and Tae was the only one who really ventured into his. Apparently Tae hardly stayed in his room- opting for Jungkook’s instead, but not this time.

Tae had mentioned once to Jimin in a passing that he doesn’t like to sleep alone, that he just cannot sleep without someone else nearby, and Jungkook was the first to discover that when he first came since Tae had the habit to wander the halls before anyone knew and told Tae he could sleep with him.

Now they have been dating.

It was sweet in so many ways, and Jimin respected for the younger and the ways he cared for Tae, who even though was older and still had his moments where he was astute, the younger still did whatever he could.

Carefully walking over to the highly decorated door of animal pictures, pictures of him and Jungkook, and him with others he raised his hand and paused, holding his breathe. No sounds was coming from the other side. No rustling sheets, no crying.

Just silence. It was unnerving, but also incredibly saddening.

He rapped at the door gently. For a moment, there wasn’t a sound. Not a peep or rustling sheets and with each second that passed, panic was working it’s way into Jimin’s system, igniting the energy within him.

“Kookie, go away,” Tae’s familiar deep voice croaked, instantly settling the panic that had formed like a giant ball in his chest and settling the purple lightning across his hands. Rustling sheets sounded. Movement. “I already told you to leave me alone. Please.”

“It’s not Kook-ah,” Jimin answered slowly. The sounds of movements ceased, and with it so did Jimin’s courage. He stood outside the door, feeling as helpless as Kookie does now. He cleared his throat and tried again. “It’s Jimin. I… brought a peace offering. Can I come in?”

Nothing. Holding his breathe, Jimin exhaled in defeat as he turned away from the door right when it creaked open. Jimin turned back around to see Tae, looking smaller than he ever has before.

He wore a ratty shirt, a few sizes too big, sweats, and his brown hair was messy, greasy, and unbrushed. HIs face was pale, cheeks a bit sunken in from lack of nutrition. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying, face blotchy, and lips chapped and cracked.

His shoulders were hunched forwards, making him seem like a child, feet bare. Jimin’s heart shattered in his chest seeing the defeated man in front of him whose smile was wiped clean off, replaced by a forlorn, lost expression of someone who lost something dear to them.

“TaeTae…” The male’s lip quivered, tears instantly springing to his eyes as he stared back at Jimin pitifully. Not being able to stand to see Tae cry, he slipped into the room and pulled the huge male into his arms and instantly sobs broke out, ugly and harsh, as his entire body shook.

“C-chim Chim,” Tae cried. Jimin was glad he set the lemonades down as he rocked the male gently, rubbing his back and offering short words of comfort. He didn’t know what else to do but let him cry.

And for a moment, his mind shifted back to when he had fallen in the street, unable to move for the sadness and grief was too much that he could only lay there in his own pity when Yoongi had done the same thing he was doing for Tae now.

Why he thought about it? He will never know, but it made his heart warmer as he became a bit more comfortable and adjusted the larger male in his arms so he could lay his chin on his head and gently run his fingers through his hair.

Soon, Tae seemed to tire himself out since he fell silent except for sniffles and a few huffs of breathe from where he was trying to even his breathing.  His arms finally loosened their hold as he broke away from the hug to hide his face and back away.

Jimin allowed him to, giving him a few moments to collect himself and taking the time to examine the room. He was surprised actually. The sheets were a light blue, the bed a single bed and pushed against the window which was closed and blinds down. The walls were a darker shade of blue and covered in anime posters, pictures of Bangtan members, his family basing on the fact they shared similar features, and a bunch of pictures of him and Soonshim growing up.

It was a very simple room, even with the lion stuffed animal and a monkey stuffed animal mixed up in the messy sheets that seemed to be the only thing out of place. It was a nice room, a bit on the small side, but suited Tae in a odd way.

“Does… Kookie hate me?” Tae croaked pitifully, turning Jimin’s attention away from the room and back on the boy who lowered himself on the bed and curled his legs in, resting his chin across his knees.

A frown instantly took over his face as he sat next to Tae, who leaned down and laid his head on his shoulder. “Why would you think that? Of course Jungkook doesn’t hate you. He loves you, Tae.”

“But… I let him down. I thought I could do it. I’ve been training so hard so he wouldn’t have to protect me anymore and I… I failed dad too. I failed Joonie hyung and Jin hyung. I failed Hobi hyung too. And Yoon hyung. I made him have to use his power and-” he fell quiet, looking like he was about to cry again. Jimin wrapped his arm around his waist and shushed him. “And now… Soonshim is dead. He died fucking protecting me and he suffered because of me.”

“Oh Tae… listen. It isn’t your fault. It is no one god damn fault that happened, do you hear me? If anything it’s mine. I made you have less man power. Taehyung, you did nothing wrong. Not at all,” Jimin said firmly, looking into Tae’s eyes as he gripped his shoulder. “I am so sick of hearing ‘it’s my fault’. You fought hard and Soonshim didn’t fucking die to hear you blame yourself. No one is mad at you, no one hates you, and god damn it Tae, we are so worried about you.”

Tae sniffled, eyes wide as he stared at Jimin with glittering, lost eyes. His long, lean fingers fiddled with the hem of his shirt and his lip was being ravaged by his teeth as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I heard you know…” Tae confessed quietly, a sad smile across his lips as he glanced back at Jimin whose brow furrowed in confusion at the words. He didn’t understand what he meant. “What Kookie said… how he yelled at Yoongi hyung and Joonie hyung.”

“Oh…” jimin breathed out, unsure of how to answer. Tae looked at him again. Jimin was stunned at the serious look across his face. He looked his age now, if not older, with no smile on his face and mouth curved downwards.

“Is it wrong that I am angry at him?” Jimin blinked, thinking back to the other day and how the youngest lashed out, yelled at Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi. A part of him could understand. “He called me weak. And then yelled at everyone else because of it. He… fought them for no reason.” Jimin looked away, mouth dry. Tae cut him another glance, looking almost weary. “I know what Yoongi said to you too.”

“That wasn’t-”

“He’s wrong, Jimin,” Tae interrupted, looking away to stare back at the wall in front of him. Jimin bit his lip, feeling a bit uncomfortable. “You aren’t stupid. You do know things. It was why Soonshim liked you. You treat people fairly. Hyung just… he doesn’t know how to handle himself sometimes.”

“I don’t really care about any of that, Tae-ah, it’s in the past,” Jimin rushed out but Tae only shrugged and offered another smile, this one reaching his eyes. “I came in here to make you feel better, not to make me feel better, you know.”

“Oh, I know, but I don’t think you can make me feel better,” Tae answered honestly, looking back at the floor like the truth hurt him. “I heard everything. What Kookie said to Joonie hyung and Yoongi hyung… I can’t face him. He really hurt me. And then Soonshim…”

“You have to face him sometime, Tae. You cannot hide from this forever. Kookie was in the wrong, we both know that, but you also forget he is a child. He was lost, panicking, and scared. We all were.” Tae smiled briefly, nodding his head in understanding.

“I know that. But this is my family too… and hearing them fight like that… because of me? It hurt more than my skin.” Tae lifted his hand, studying the skin that was slowly becoming more in tune with his honey skin tone, reaching up to touch his face with a flinch. “It felt like I was watching my world fall apart.”

“Well, I can promise you that we resolved it. Kookie apologized. I watched it myself. Everything is okay now, I promise. We just want our Tae back.” Jimin reached over and hugged him again. Tae giggled and hugged back, burying his face in his neck.

“I want me back too,” Tae whispered. Jimin blinked at the heartfelt words, and he wondered, for the thousandth time, how he came here. How he was able to meet this beautiful people.

Hobi was right. He wasn’t trapped here. Not physically, but he was attached. A string of fate has connected his soul to these six boys and he knew, somehow, he wouldn’t be able to leave. He was trapped mentally, caught in a web of a brotherhood that ran thicker than blood.

It didn't make sense, and Jimin didn’t believe in fate, but he knew that he belonged here. That somehow, someway, he would have ended up here eventually.

It was in his DNA.

 

                                                                                                                            ******

 

“Do you have fucking noodle arms or something?” Yoongi sighed, staring at Jimin like he was a worm under his boot that had ruined the precious black color with his guts. Honestly, Jimin wanted to try the gun on Yoongi, but knew much better than to try. “I gave you a Beretta PX4 Storm. There is barely a kick!”

Jimin groaned, lowering the small weapon back down as he turned back to face Yoongi with a scowl. Sweat continued to pour from his skin as clouds slowly started to block the sun, letting a cool breeze ruffle his hair.

“I have never shot a gun before, okay? I’m trying,” Jimin huffed, brushing a lock of his sweaty disgusting hair from his forehead and making it stick up in odd directions. Yoongi clucked his tongue in distaste and rolled his eyes.

“We have been doing this for three days, Jimin. You haven’t even hit the target once!” Yoongi growled, unhooking his thumbs from his pockets as he pushes himself off the tree he had been leaning against and stepping closer. “Focus Jimin. Do you want to hit the ground or the actual target?”

“I’m trying, Yoongi. I just… I can’t do this.”

“Bullshit. Go whine to someone else about that shit. You can do it, you just don’t want to.” Jimin made a face that rivaled biting into a lemon. Yoongi sucked his teeth, hitting Jimin’s arm harshly. “I’m going to tell you something- I can see one's fears. That’s… one of my abilities. It’s called Reflector. I can reflect your fears back to you, tenfold. I ca

n make you think you’re suffering whatever your worst nightmare is until you’re brain shuts down.”

Jimin was speechless. He didn’t know what to say. Yoongi told something about himself to Jimin. He wondered if the male was alright or high or something. But he know he wasn’t. It made a half smile cross his face.

Yoongi scoffed. “Don’t start feeling all high and mighty, brat. I didn’t tell you this for you smile. Right now, I know you are afraid to hurt, to kill, but I am going to lay this out for you. Remember Tae? Remember how close to death he was? You think for one second they won’t try and do the same to you? Fire that gun to kill. Or you will die.”

Yoongi came around Jimin’s body, turning the slightly smaller male back towards the targets hanging from various trees or positioned across the foliage. His scent infiltrated Jimin’s senses, cause a blush to heat his cheeks when he felt his body pressed against his, arm reaching it lift the gun and aim it.

“I know you don’t care about yourself, so don’t imagine you are defending yourself. Imagine Tae is screaming for help, about to be roasted again by Jamison, or worse. Imagine Jin begging for Joon, who can’t even move. Defend them.”

His mind was scrambled. He could feel Yoongi’s body heat, and his scent, and everything, the warmth of his hand on his that was holding the gun. HIs cheeks were burning red, and he really wanted to step away but at the same time, he felt so good.

But he wanted to focus. He needed to focus. So he breathed through his mouth, pushing away the feeling of Yoongi’s body and instead focusing on the image that the male set forth in his mind.

The idea of Tae… Hobi.... Jin and Namjoon… yes, even the grouch that was currently positioned behind him like any fantasy he ever wanted coming true… being hurt was not okay. He needed them, even they didn’t need him.

He steeled his face, clenching his clammy hand tighter around the gun as he clenched his jaw. He could do this. He wasn’t weak. He couldn’t be anymore. Besides, he had to prove this grouch wrong. He had to prove himself.

“Good… now… fire,” Yoongi said. Jimin clenched his finger, bracing his arm for the impact as he shot. His arm jerked a tad from the force, but kept it steady as it hit close to the center of the target. A grin broke across his features as he squealed and looked at Yoongi with a big smile, eager for approval. “Medicore. Again. That shot will wound, stun maybe, but not kill.”

Jimin deflated. “Would it hurt you for some praising? Geez,” Jimin sighed, arching a brow. Yoongi took a step away from Jimin, a smirk still in place as he looked back at the target, back to Jimin. He remained silent. Jimin huffed, not really surprised at the mute reply, and turned back to the target. “No wonder Hobi hyung calls you turtle.”

“I’ll praise you when you hit the center more than eight times. In a row. Till then, just aim and fire,” Yoongi stated, moving back towards the tree. Huffing and grumbling under his breathe, back now cold without the elders warmth, he looked back at the target and took aim again.

The noise hurt his ears, but Yoongi refused to give ear plugs. He wouldn’t have any in the field so there was no reason to have any during practice. His fingers ached from the reloading and unloading the ammo multiple times and he was sure that his fingers were blistered and red.

It was tiresome. It was kind of annoying, how monotonous the male was as he shouted orders from his tree, telling the raven to start over, do it faster, do it cleaner, and never gaining praise. He only hit the target once, which was just now, and he felt weak.

But there was small moments he would glance over at Yoongi, catching a slight look of intrigue across his face as he watched Jimin try and reload the bullets faster than the time before, since he was being timed, saying if he didn’t reload fast enough he will die.

It was tedious, and at first he didn’t understand why he had to learn to use a gun. They had powers, why not rely on that? He could always electrocute someone. But Yoongi merely hit the back of his head and drew his gun to land at his temple faster than Jimin could swear.

The cold blunt of the gun to his head scared him. He froze, feeling like a deer at the feeling of the metal. He didn’t dare move, not even twitch his hands to defend himself, but he could feel Yoongi’s smirk.

“I could have blown your brains to bits before your hand could even move to touch me. Learn to use a gun, and you will live a hell of a lot longer then if you just rely on that gift of yours,” he had growled, pulling the gun away and putting it back into the waistband of his jeans.

As much as Jimin hated to admit defeat, he did in that moment. Yoongi was right- others wouldn’t hesitate to use a gun, throwing knives, or lord knows what else and he shouldn’t hesitate to do the same.

Hate it? Oh yes, definitely. Respect it? Probably not unless Yoongi’s the one doing it. Try it? Well, no choice now. He was never one to back down when he was being challenged the way Yoongi seemed to challenge him.

So, he kept trying, and now here he was. Still pouting when he finally hit the target and not even a smile. He had been out here for almost three hours, doing all those things, and he still had training with Hobi after this, and then with Tae- if he came out of his room.

When Jimin had left his room earlier, Tae had told him that he just needed a bit more time. That he wasn’t ready to come out and face everyone yet and Jimin had understood. It was something that Jimin could relate to.

Namjoon was going to teach him Spark history and try and answer questions about Sparks but that would be all, from what he understood. But that could be days before that even started. He was still locked away in his room.

Rolling his eyes, Jimin aimed the gun and tried to remember all the rules of shooting and aim. Both eyes open. Finger off trigger unless wanting to actually shoot. He ran over Yoongi’s rules that had been said so many times his ears wanted to bleed.

Eyes locked on the target, he clenched his finger and flinched a bit at the backlash but kept shooting as his arm adjusted to the slight kick. He shot it until the gun clicked, blinking a few times as he lowered his arm.

Three bullets had made it to the target, one actually hitting the center. A smile wormed a way into Jimin’s face as he looked back at Yoongi, who as usual was unimpressed but shrugged. Jimin was perturbed this time as he just kept smiling.

“Okay, enough smiling brat. I am tired and it’s hot and I wanna sleep. Put the guns away and let’s go,” Yoongi said, pushing off the tree to wander over to the bag full of guns, ammo, and more that Jimin didn’t know and didn’t really care to know.

“You’re always sleepy, hyung.” Yoongi looked like he wanted to argue but then decided against it and just shrugged as Jimin straightened and took his place next to Yoongi to take the walk up to the house.

“Let’s go, Jimin,” Yoongi said, already beginning the slow trek towards the house. Jimin nodded and trailed next to him, glancing at Yoongi every now and then to catch the sun glinting across his hair, admiring the white color. Once again, he was reminded that he wants his hair dyed. “What are you staring at?”

“Your hair,” Jimin answered honestly, ignoring the flush of his cheeks. Yoongi’s brow furrowed as his hand reached up to brush his slightly windblown hair with a frown that caused Jimin to giggle and cover his mouth with his hand. “No, no, your hair looks fine, hyung. I just liked the color.”

“Oh… Jin does it for me. When I ask anyway,” Yoongi explained, lowering his hand as they walked closer to the house that was beginning to feel more like home. Jimin nodded, making a mental note of that as he looked back towards the ground. “I heard you spoke to Tae today.”

“Well… yeah,” Jimin mumbled. “He… didn’t like the fact you were fighting. When he was… hurt. It hurt him more.”

“I know. I didn’t want it either. It was why I never wanted to say anything to anyone. But Jungkook knew and Tae was hurt so it came out.” Yoongi sighed, closing his eyes and exhaling loudly. “He’s a good kid and all, but sometimes people forget that he is, in fact, a kid.”

“You’re a kid too,” Jimin reminded him quietly, a little sad that he couldn't refer to himself as young, when really he was. He was young, new to the world, and yet, he knew more than those who had been on this earth for much longer.

Yoongi snorted, chuckling a bit under his breathe as he ruffled Jimin’s hair playfully. “I haven’t been a kid in a very long time.”

“Tae-ah said you were 19,” Jimin countered, swatting his hand away despite the fact his scalp was tingling with happiness but he would rather rot then tell him that as he glared at the elder. Yoongi only shook his head.

“Age is merely a number.”

“And pain doesn’t respect age,” Jimin added quietly. Yoongi blinked once before glancing back at him, looking surprised. Jimin turned a bit sheepish as he looked down. “What?”

“Where did you hear that from?” He asked, stopping to open the back door that lead to the house. Jimin looked back at his feet, kicking up some of the dirt.

“When I was little, I would get these panic attacks a lot. I didn’t really like new places, they scared me, and my mom always tried to help me when she could. And when I got older, before things happened, I would be… bullied often and cry about it.” Jimin swallowed thickly, closing his eyes to ignore the image of the smiling woman, whose features were becoming fuzzy and whose voice was slowly fading. “A doctor told me when I was twelve that I was too young to be feeling this kind of pain. That I shouldn’t be afraid. My mom use to tell me that pain doesn’t respect age. Every person is different. I guess it stayed with me.”

“Your mother is a wise woman.”

“She was.” Yoongi’s face morphed into understanding, catching the drift that the wise woman was no longer here. Sadness gripped his features as Jimin slipped inside the house, once again praising the air conditioning and blinking away his tears.

“What happened to her?” Yoongi asked carefully, closing the door gently behind him. Jimin stared at the ground, willing strength to say it. He looked back at Yoongi and gave a little smile.

“My mom was a wonderful woman. When she was younger, she loved my dad a lot. She married young, and well that doesn’t always end well.” Jimin turned to look at the ceiling. “She loved me and my brother. Dad threw himself more into work, and with it, she was sad. Soon he stopped coming to my dance performances, and Jihyun’s little science projects. He stopped showing up to teacher parent conferences and well… he disappeared really.”

Yoongi looked intrigued, even though he was trying to play it off, but he had his head tilted and listened carefully without saying a word. If Jimin didn’t know any better, he would say that Yoongi really wants to know. To learn. It made him at least a little happy.

“And when he was home, he kept pressuring me. Told me dancing was for girls, and that my grades needed to be higher so I can do better for high school and get into a real school, not some dance academy. It triggered a lot of… anxiety that I had. Have.” Jimin looked away, licking his lips and hissing through his teeth. “Mom started getting angry at him. Saying how he was never there for his sons. Saying how he wasn’t there for her. Soon… there was a fight every night and by the time I was thirteen because of the… freak accidents that kept happening because of me.”

Jimin traveled absently through the hall, walking into the living room that was now empty from easier. Yoongi walked past him lowering himself on the couch but his eyes never left Jimin, who crouched on the floor as he continued to talk. He wasn’t sure why he was sharing this, maybe because Yoongi shared a part of himself and Jimin felt the need to repay him.

“One night, it got really bad. She was screaming, and crying, telling him to leave her alone. She said that she needed to be alone for a little while.” Jimin closed his eyes, remembering that last fleeting touch, the soft voice that whispered to him everything was fine, she just needed to cool down. “That little while became forever. She died in a car crash. But she taught me lots of things. So it’s okay, cause I still had her for a little while.”

“What kinda things did she teach?” Yoongi asked, leaning back on the couch, looking lost in thought as his eyes flickered from corner to corner, nibbling absently on his lip. Jimin smiled, feeling a bit warmer as he spoke of his mom.

“There will be dozens of people who take your breath away, but the one who reminds you to breathe is the one you should keep,” he quoted, remembering the way she giggled as Jimin held her hand, and then clutched tightly to Jihyun, merely shopping in a little convenience store with both of the boys in the cart. “But my favorite from her is ‘if I offered you 22667 won, would you take it? How about if I crumpled it up? Stepped on it? You would probably take it even though it was crumpled and stepped on it. Do you know why? Because it is still 22667 won, and it’s worth hasn’t changed. The same goes for you; if you have a bad day, or if something bad happens to you, you are not worthless.”

“Your mom sounds like a good person.” Jimin smiled and nodded, happy to hear the praise. “Just like her son.” Jimin froze, a gasp going through his throat to match the squeak that followed as he looked over at Yoongi with wide eyes but the male wasn’t looking at him. “Good luck with Hobi.”

Jimin nodded mutely, watching him go as his cheeks burned still from the compliment that hung in the air. His heart was thrumming, swelling a bit with fondness for the male as he disappeared up the stairs without another word. Movements smooth, graceful in ways Jimin could never understand.

Yoongi’s steps were slow, fluid like liquid, and delicate. His gait though lazy was beautiful and almost like a dancer's, but Jimin knew otherwise by now. It wasn’t the movements of a dancer, but of a fighter since Jungkook almost shared it.

It wasn’t as graceful as Yoongi’s, but he could be biased.

Sighing, ignoring the way his stomach was still fluttering, heart racing in his chest, he pulled out his phone and smiled at the messages from his brother. During the three days, Jimin had kept his promise and sent him little texts here and there while Jihyun did the same.

It was almost a habit. Jihyun would say something about his day or something that happened and send a selfie. Jimin would giggle and say something back with a selfie and tease a little bit before stopping.

Jihyun: I told dad that u ran off to be a underground dancer- he won’t look for you that way. But he is gonna cut off ur phone eventually.

Jimin: Thanks for the update, Ji-ah. Don’t worry, I’ll get a new service, maybe change numbers, but I will save your number. How’s Baek?

Jihyun: … she doesn’t talk much anymore. She seems sad. I think she misses u. Hyung, don’t you think you should text her? Say something?

Jimin: In time. But I don’t think she will ever  forgive me.

Jihyun: She doesn’t hate u, u idiot.

Jimin: she doesn’t have to. I hate me.

Jimin sighed, frustration building in his system as he pocketed his phone and huffed, squeezing his eyes shut. He could feel the vibrations of his phone, but for once Jimin couldn’t look at them. Despite the relationship building, repairing, with his brother the gap between Baek and him had only grown.

Gritting his teeth, relishing the ache of his jaw that it brought, he let the frustration bubble for a moment, soaking in the way it made his skin tingle deliciously, teasingly across his honey skin. It was almost like it was dancing.

There’s no intent behind his frustration, maybe behind himself. He has never felt so torn, like he was being split down the middle. The selfish part of him liked it here. THe affection, the calming home atmosphere and people who care for him without even having to ask.

A place where he belonged, he fit in. They encouraged his powers, encouraged the little accidents, they encouraged his difference and fuck, it felt so good instead feeling the pressure building within, swelling and bubbling like acid in his stomach at the judging, disgusted eyes.

People wanted him here. Listened to him and he didn’t have to watch over his shoulder, or tip toe around his father. He could dance till he collapses. He didn’t have to study till his eyes crossed and he didn’t have to face the school where all he felt was terror.

Jimin feels like a person here. And he was addicted.

But he missed his house, his room with posters, and the friendship he had with Baek, the way he cared for Jihyun. He missed the way they were the three musketeers. Fighting their own challenges. He missed the simplicity.

Frustration at his chaotic thoughts tumbled around dangerously, igniting the energy within his blood as he stared at his hands, watching it carefully with gritted teeth and slitted eyes, and he never, not once in his wildest dreams, thought he would ever willingly look upon the thing that caused pain.

“I can’t tell if your frustrated at yourself, or whether you’re angry at something else.”

Jimin didn’t startle, kind of use to Hobi’s silent entrances of the male whose footing was as light as his stepping into the room. Amusement tickled at his belly, a cold smile gracing his features as he dropped his hands in his lap to look up through his matted fringe.

“A bit of both, I think.” Hobi smiled, sympathy burning in his light brown eyes as he walked easily over and lowered his body to the ground as he sat across from Jimin, who eyed him uneasily. He licked his lips. “Aren’t we going to train?”

“Yes. But first, I want to know why you're frustrated,” Hobi answered with a bright smile that really could rival the sun. He lifted his hand and gestured to the purple lightning that was still skittering happily across the youngers. “To gain that kind of reaction, I am curious.”

A frown etched into the lines on Jimin’s face, distaste coloring his eyes as he jerked them away at the sudden prying he was receiving. The anger within his system made him a bit irrational, but he had no reason to be upset with Hobi. But for some reason he was,

“First, stop making me angry,” Jimin bit out, cutting his glare towards the male with bared teeth. Hobi cocked his head to the side, lips pursed as he watched Jimin’s reactions with a curious gaze. The anger that jumbled his thoughts diminished before vanishing. Instead, a new frustration took over. “Do I look like a puppet to you?”

“In fact, yes, you do.” A surge of anger reignited his blood, eyes narrowed on the male who didn’t even blink. He sat back on his forearms, watching with a disinterested gaze. Jimin hated feeling used, and Hobi seemed to love to play with his emotions. “You readily let me play with them Jimin. One of the things I want to teach you is how to control your emotions, and with it, your power.”

“So you fuck with them like play dough? Mold my emotions any way you want and see how I react? That’s wrong.”

“That’s life,” Hobi replied with missing a beat, unperturbed by the acid laced in the younger's voice as he pushed himself back up, scooting his body forwards so he was a bit closer. Jimin bit his tongue as he glared at the older. “You think Iron Clad won’t use their powers? Mess with you like I am? Like Jin does?”

He knows. He knows and he doesn’t like it, but he sucked on his teeth and gave a brief nod. Hobi watched patiently, letting the truth soak into his skin, one by one, loosening the tense muscles in his face and shoulders before he relaxed almost completely.

“So, you gonna tell me what got you riled before I did?”

“Me. I riled myself.”

“Thoughts?”

“Pressures too.” Jimin shrugged, playing it off before sighing and gesturing towards his hands. “Alright, how are we going to start today.” Hobi wiggled his brows playfully, letting out a loud whoop of laughter.

“The fun way!”

“Is there a fun way?” Jimin asked, skeptical that messing with dangerous powers could possibly be ‘fun’ in any way. But Hobi seemed eager, bouncing from foot to foot and grinning widely as he rubbed his hands together while nodding his head like a bobble head.

“Of course! Now, shut it and listen,” Hobi ordered, gesturing towards him in warning. Jimin rolled his eyes a bit playfully, but obeyed as he closed his mouth and waited for the older to continue. Whatever the sunshine had planned, it had to be more fun than trying to go a electric ball in his hands like he has been.

It was what he spent hours for the past few days trying to do. Standing outside, a 100 yards away from the tree, eyes locked on his hands as he tried to focus his energy, his emotions, on harnessing it and keeping it between his hands.

It worked- sometimes. Granted it was the size of a gold ball and usually fizzled out before it even reached ten seconds but he kept trying. He didn’t understand what Hobi was wanting from him- he just kept saying that Jimin had the ability to grow a force of energy and use it to his advantage.

If anything it made his head hurt, and his arms feel like noodles or like he had shot up too much drugs through his veins that they were buzzing but never truly satisfied. It was tiresome really, so maybe a change of pace would be fun.

“You can detect electrical currents, correct? Sense them or whatever,” Hobo started, gesturing towards the house with raised brows in question. Jimin paused, a bit hesitant to answer.

“Well, yes. It’s like.... A tingling feeling? I don’t know. I usually ignore it. Why?” Jimin questioned, eyeing him. Hobi’s smile only broadened as he let out another loud sound. It was true. He could feel it across his skin, singing to him, calling to like a pied piper.

It was something that when he was twelve he didn’t understand. He would just… know and it scared his mom sometimes when he said things like ‘i can feel it calling me’ or how he knew if something wasn’t working right.

He didn’t normally talk about, pushing away the feeling and pretending it wasn’t there. The feeling of it was a constant in his life so it was easily ignored. But now that Hobi said aloud, why not speak the truth.

Walk into a store? Oh look, a camera is hanging nearby. Being able to feel power lines, know instantly what's around or where plugs are. That could be useful in high school. You know, to charge your phone or something.

“Well today you’re going to focus on it,” Hobi responded brightly. Jimin arched a brow, head cocked to the side. “If we have someone who can sense electrical currents through power lines and can also sense where they lead, it can lead to main power sources and find cameras we can’t find.”

“Oh. Okay?”

“Good. Now, I have hidden ten small cameras all throughout the house. Find them. Bring them back here. You are being timed. This is to one) strengthen your abilities and two) help us know if we can use this in the field and three) hopefully have you build a connect with this,” Hobi explained. The idea was a solid one, but he had never purposefully used it. He wasn’t sure how this was going to go.

Jimin shuffled his feet, licking his lips as he nodded carefully, lifting his eyes to meet Hobi’s and show the older he understood. Hobi smiled, but turned a bit more serious, gesturing towards the rest of the house.

“One more thing- no room is off limits. The cameras could be anywhere- even outside.” He paused, checking to make sure Jimin was following before pressing on. “I have also asked for some help from Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jungkook. We will be patrolling the house and grounds. Do not get caught- this is also a lesson in stealth. Powers will be used, so beware.”

A rock settled within his chest at the words, causing his mouth to go dry and his heart to crawl lower into the pit of his belly at the words, the warning hanging heavy in the air. His throat felt a bit tight, but he tried to rein in the cold pit of fear that made his hands feel like ice while his skin burned,

Hobi, reading his emotions readily, offered a light smile. “Jiminie, there is nothing to panic about. You can do this- Joon thought you were ready for this. Jin hyung too,” he reassured gently, touching Jimin’s shoulder.

“Will… there be hand-to-hand combat?” Jimin breathed nervously. Hobi paused a second, thoughtfulness swirling in his chocolate orbs as he carefully analyzed over the smaller dancer.

“No. Just powers. Kookie-ah said you weren’t quite ready yet.” A sigh of relief ran through Jimin as he nodded, breathing out slowly as the older ruffled his hair and flashed another reassuring smile- the feeling of calm and serenity flooding his system, pausing the hum of his blood. “It’s okay, Jiminie. You’ll be fine. You can do this. Learn to believe in yourself more.”

“You’re messing with my emotions again, hyung,” Jimin answered, but there was no hostility laced like daggers in his voice. Hobi laughed and nodded, the feeling of warmth in his chest only swelling. “I think I actually like when you do this.”

“Well, don’t get to use to it,” he rebuked, pulling his hand away. “I don’t do it very often, but I thought I should give you a highlight point to my power.” Jimin nodded wordlessly against as the feeling finally vanished before he gestured towards the house. “Close your eyes, Count to twenty. Then the game begin. Remember- powers will be used.”

“Got it.”

After counting to twenty, evening his breathing and using the twenty seconds to focus on the energy, he opened his eyes and listened to the way it skittered across his skin, calling his blood. He could sense all the lamps, the artificial light bulbs, and the power line that ran under his feet.

It was disconcerting, messing with his senses and causing his head to begin to pound in discomfort from the feeling of too much. Focusing on just feeling the energy was overwhelming, making him a stumble a bit.

Everything around him was vibrating, pulsating, and he instantly pulled back, reining in the desire to feel it all once and as usual, the distorted image from his eyes returned to normal, the heaviness of his limbs releasing and allowing him to stand straight.

He winced. Too much at once. The pounding in his head gave another warning throb, angry at the intrusion, but he ignored it and slowly opened his mind to it once more, but this time focusing on feeling one of the energies at a time.

It let it slither through his blood, tangle with his mind, and play with his muscles when as he jumped energy to energy, finally feeling one that wasn’t quite right. It’s energy output was small, and a annoying feeling of mechanical eyes followed it.

A pleased smile flashed across Jimin’s features instantly, chest swelling with accomplishment as he opened his eyes and shifted his gaze behind him where the mantle of the fireplace was held. He could feel it hidden among the pictures.

Jimin ducked, using his senses to feel the range of the camera before coming towards the right flank and peering down the mantle where the small camera was positioned. He reached over and turned it off.

The smile hadn’t left even when he heard foot steps. Jimin slipped behind the couch, instantly changing his thoughts to different areas among the house, taking Jungkook’s advice about telepaths to always scramble your thoughts and feed them false info.

Holding his breathe, he thought of nothing but different rooms of the house, keeping his breathing as even as possible despite he could feel the slight nerves creeping up his back, fear of being caught like this was some hide and seek game nearly making him stumble.

“Can you read him?” Yoongi’s voice stated, a second pair of lighter steps coming from the hallway entrance. Jimin barely held back a gasp and pressed his hand to his lips to keep himself quiet as he stayed utterly still.

“I can feel his nerves, some panic, but I can’t pinpoint it. Did someone teach him how to throw me off?” Hobi’s voice replied, curiosity and bewilderment coating his voice as the floorboards creaked.

“I didn’t. Jinie maybe?” Hobi hummed, and he stepped closer to the mantle. “Joon said that he took out the first camera a few moments ago, but he lost sight of him.”

“Couldn’t he tell us where the kid is?” Yoongi asked and Jimin swore he could hear the eye roll coming from the smaller male just like he swore he could see Hobi’s bright smile that matched his giggle.

“And that would be cheating. This is a small test, Yoons.”

“Don’t forget you owe me food for this,” came Yoongi’s retort. Jimin nearly choked when he heard another little giggle and the sound of someone coming closer to the couch before the light steps exited the room and headed up stairs while Hobi took the hallway towards the dining room.

Jimin breathed out slowly, the panic ebbing away from his system as the urge to pee grew. He cursed to himself. Why was it when he played hide and seek as a kid he would find a amazing hiding place only to have to pee as soon as they seeking started?

Shifting uncomfortably, Jimin peeked out from his hiding spot and closed his eyes, using his senses again to find the next camera. He felt antsy, jittery. He didn’t want to stay still as he slipped out of the living room and clung to the wall, peering into the dining room.

Eyes locked to the corner where a camera was placed, he licked his lips and frowned. It was too high up. There was no way he would be able to reach up there and shut it down. Not without hurting himself or making a loud noise.

Both of which was out.

“Fuck my height,” Jimin sneered, scurrying into the dining room and glaring at the camera that he was sure either Jin or Namjoon put up. He growled, glancing down at his hands and then towards the wall where he felt power lines and back to the camera. “This is such a bad idea…”

Jimin sighed, placing his hands across the wall and closing his eyes, trying to remember how to draw energy like Hobi had been telling him. He could feel the familiar swell of it, the crest it was making within his system, growing a bit. A smile twitched at his lips, excitement that it was working urging him on.

“Okay, release slowly…” he whispered to himself, trying to push the energy outwards. Instantly the purple lightning flew from his hands and into the walls. Jimin screeched when the lambs, lights, TV, radio, brightened then blew all together.

The house went dark.

“Fuck me,” Jimin sighed, removing his hands from the now scorched walls and not moving an inch. Sounds of Jin’s yelling, Namjoon’s muffled voice coming from upstairs, Hobi’s startled shrill screech, and Tae’s questioning voice sounded throughout the house while Yoongi was just cursing.

“PARK JIMIN!”

Chapter Text

“I still can’t believe you blew the entire fuse,” Tae laughed, nose scrunched in amusement as he looked back at Jimin through the mirror. A groan elicited from the smaller male as he sunk against the bathtub, grumbling under his breathe. “That was beautiful.”

“No, it was expensive,” Jin corrected, gently smacking Tae’s shoulder. The boy wiggled in the rolling chair they had rolled into the bathroom, the smell of bleach, dye, and shampoo hanging heavy in the air. “And Jiminie will not do it again.”

“Yes Eomma,” Jimin responded, jutting out his lower lip in a pout as he crossed his arms over his chest and huffed. Tae was using his hand to try and cover the laughter that was still spewing from his lips at the accident from a week ago. “It was an accident! I thought that if I could cut some of the power to the camera I could cut it off!”

“Well, you succeeded in cutting off the power,” Tae cackled, deep voice a bit higher in his amusement while the towel wrapped around his head loosened a tad. Even Jin bit back a smile on that one, fingers caressing the towel holding the dye to Tae’s head. “Do you know how long Yoongi was cursing you for ruining his computer? It was kinda funny.”

“Do you know that he nearly killed me if I hadn’t ran fast enough?” Jimin barked back, exasperated. Jin sighed, running a hand through his hair with a stern look flashing across his features as he pinned Jimin with  his dark eyes.

“He wouldn’t have killed you.”

“Yeah, just some maiming and torture!” Tae added that earned a another smack, following by a whimper and soft sorry from the excited boy. Jimin huffed, turning his eyes away from Tae’s in the mirror to look at the counter that had two boxes of hair dye- one ash blond and the other a dusty grey to match his longer hair from Minho’s healing and repairing his hair.

The counter was a complete mess. It was covered in bowls, spoons, and the packages of dye. It smelled a bit funny too, causing Jimin’s nose to burn as much as his scalp from when Jin had to bleach it twice to get it light enough for the ash blond that he had chosen.

It had been a week since the… failed attempt at learning to shut off cameras with his powers, and Yoongi was still on silent treatment since his computer, lap, and his phone which had been plugged up to charge blew from his… attempt.

Taehyung, being who he was, found it highly amusing and hadn’t stopped laughing about it when he finally came out of his room to discover what had blown his lamp and plunged his room in darkness.

At first, Tae wasn’t sure how to talk to Jungkook. He avoided his eyes and any time the younger reached for him, he would find some excuse to slip away and join Jimin’s side. He wasn’t sure when they finally spoke to one another, but some time within the past two days, Tae and Jungkook had returned to their usual ways.

It hadn’t been an easy week. Between shopping for new light bulbs, computers, phones, keeping a wide distance between himself and Yoongi, Jimin had been training a lot harder. A) because the idea of having Yoongi chase after him again is one he rather not suffer through again and b) because he hated the disappointed looks and how much money he had wasted.

His entire body was aching from the constant runs he does with Jungkook, the combat fighting that left him in bruises but was finally managing to at least bruise the younger a bit too, and the gun training with Mr. Grouch himself that made his fingers almost bleed from the constant quick changing of bullets, loading and reloading, and the quick fire aim.

At least he hit the target… most of the time.

Now Tae has joined the mix as the person who trains him archery, climbing, and other basic survival skills. It was interesting to have him as someone to help him because he became a different person when it was time to learn. He broke down the basics, gave Jimin the basic necessities, and would offer tips as Jimin was doing it.

As soon as it was over though, Tae would laugh for hours how Jimin landed on his ass, or sucked at starting a fire or something like that. Still, Tae wasn’t completely himself. He would smile, laugh, and joke. He would talk to himself like usual, but other times he would go quiet, stare absently at nothing at all and become blank, eyes on the door as if waiting for Soonshim.

Jungkook noticed too. He would do whatever he could to lather Tae with affection and love, and it worked for the most part, but that didn’t seem to stop the sadness that was radiating from the bright boy and Jimin couldn’t blame him. He found himself missing Soonshim’s company himself.

Namjoon was back to locking himself up in his room, hearing word from others that their has been more movement and possible disturbances and other technical terms Jimin didn’t understand and wasn’t sure he ever would.

Yoongi was just.... Yoongi. They hadn’t spoken much throughout the week, and as much as Jimin hated admitting it, he missed the elder male. He missed the sass, the quick retorts, and insults. He missed the silence that was somehow, despite everything, comfortable. No words really needed to be said, they were just… enjoying each others company.

He still needed more training. He couldn’t control his powers all the way, he was still unreliable, and struggling to gain control. Hoseok was getting frustrated, but bless the sunshine boy he was keeping it in, but Jimin still felt horrible.

Jungkook was losing some of his patience too. The bruises covered his body matched that as his own frustrations was growing. He wasn’t made for this. He wasn’t made to fight or be stealthy like Jin can or fight like Jungkook or shoot like Yoongi or have control of his power like Hobi.

It was starting to wear him thin, so when Jin offered a day off of training and instead dye their hair, Jimin leapt at the chance. So, here they sat nestled within the bathroom where they had been for a while now, surrounded by chemicals and having a moment for the three of them.

“Hey, Eomma,” Tae suddenly voiced, sitting up a bit to meet the eldest gaze in the mirror. Jin looked up, hands pausing in caressing the scalp to look at one of the youngers. “What are we doing for Kookie’s birthday in two days?” He asked, blinking widely.

A strangled noise left Jimin’s throat as he swiveled around to face Tae and Jin, eyes wide with shock. “It’s his birthday in two days?!” Jimin cried. Tae giggled, amusement dancing between his features while Jin smiled fondly.

“Yes. His birthday is September 1st. He is turning 16,” Jin replied gently. Tae was humming happily, nodding as he looked at his hands, a thoughtful look crossing over his features. Jimin blinked, feeling sheepish as he sunk back into the tub with pink cheeks.

“Oh… I didn’t know… he didn’t really say anything.” Jin chuckled as he stepped away from Tae, who stood and skipped over to Jimin, instantly sitting next to the smaller male and snuggled against his side, towel still wrapped.

“Tae-ah, don’t mess up the towel. It needs to sit for another twenty,” Jin warned. Tae hummed his answer and adjusted his head so the towel remained wrapped safely around his head. Jin returned his soft gaze towards Jimin. “You wouldn’t know. Kookie-ah doesn’t say much about his birthday and usually forgets about it.”

“I can relate,” Jimin answered under his breathe, remembering how once his mother died, the only ones who truly remembered his birthday were Baek and Jihyun, getting him a little cupcake and a present but there was no party or anything too special. “I don’t really celebrate my birthday either.”

Tae, who was snuggled against his side still, his warmth circulating through Jimin and his scent, which was soft and almost fruity becoming familiar since Tae was almost around him, perked up, nearly knocking Jimin’s chin from moving so fast.

“You too?! Geez! What is your birthday? This year, we are gonna celebrate it right! As a member of his family,” Tae demanded, eyes blazing with determination. Awe and warmth flooded the raven haired as he stared in wonder at the slightly younger male.

Tae’s dark brown orbs were lined with long lashes, dusting his honey colored skin that was flushed with happiness, adding a certain charm to his elegant features. There was something prominently beautiful about Kim Taehyung.

High cheekbones, filled out cheeks that added a bit of feminine charm that was outdone by the sharp jawline that had a boyish charm effect across the stunning male. His lips were full, perfectly pink, with a little freckle dusting the right part of his bottom lip, another one across his nose and hidden in his eye.

Looking into the dancing brown eyes, you saw childish delight, a brightness that hardly ever seemed to dull. He was beautiful, inside and out. It wasn’t hard to imagine why Jungkook, the boy who was closed off sometimes, a bit bashful and yet mischievous could fall for Taehyung.

Jimin felt honored to know him- even if he was a little weird and talked to inanimate objects on a regular basis.

“Yes, when is your birthday? Joonie’s is the 12th of this month, and then after that is Tae-ah’s birthday in December,” Jin spoke up, settling himself against the counter as he looked over the two boys. Tae was beaming.

“I’ll be turning 18 December 30th!” Tae’s smile was contagious. A bright smile broke out across Jimin’s as he snuggled closer to the younger boy, feeling content as Tae accepted the affection graciously, wrapping an arm around him.

“October 13th. That’s my birthday,” Jimin answered after a moment of quiet. Tae grinned, revealing his teeth from the box shape of the smile that seemed to be purely Tae. Jin seemed pleased.

“We will be sure to celebrate then.” Jimin flushed but nodded, liking the sound of having a group of people willing celebrate his birthday instead of just two and generally on the way to school or in secret. Jin returned to Tae. “As for Kookie-ah, did you want to go out today and pick out a present? The three of us? I know Busan has lots of stores and hasn’t he wanted a skate board?”

At the mention of Busan, Tae’s smile was wiped clean off, fear tightening his muscles and jerking his eyes towards the porcelain of the tub. The mirth that was lighting his brown eyes dulled a bit, lips pressing in a firm line.

Unease oozed from the boy, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he kept his gaze averted. Jin caught the change, a slash of pain striking across his face as he watched Tae become a small child again.

Silence stretched on, the temperature of the room wobbling uncomfortably as Jimin felt the muscles in Tae’s body become so tight, he was worried he would sprain something. Melancholy was branded into Jimin’s face.

“Taehyung…” Jin breathed, emotion straining his voice, eyes widening with crystal tears as he easily reads Tae’s passing thoughts, knowing what was haunting the boy at the mention of Busan. For once in his life, Jimin wished he knew what Taehyung was thinking.

Jin lunged forward, a cry lodged in his throat as he kneeled next to the two boys and let Tae throw himself forward and nuzzle his large body in the crooks of Jin’s, squeezing his eyes shut, blatantly wishing away the tears as he clutched to Jin’s blue shirt in desperation. Jimin nestled himself against Tae, wanting to offer some form of comfort himself but unsure how.

Tae didn’t seem to mind though, adding some of his weight against Jimin and absorbing all the comfort he could as they three of them remained huddled like that, Jin carding his hands over Tae’s cheeks and holding him close.

“It’s okay to be afraid, Tae… you went through something… something horrible and I am so sorry. You won’t be going there alone, Tae. In fact, I’ll bring Yoongi along. Okay? You aren’t alone,” Jin pushed, desperation straining his voice and making his lip quiver pathetically as he pulled away to search Tae’s face.

Jimin nodded his head quickly, touching Tae’s hand and letting the boy lace his fingers with his- silently cursing the size difference that made Jimin feel like he had baby girl hands but pushed those thoughts away- as Tae sniffled and glanced at him.

“I could always electrocute them like I did with the power,” he offered brightly, wanting to lighten the darkened mood that had been hanging over their shoulders. Jin snorted out a wet laugh, sniffling a bit as Tae giggled, the tear tracks across his cheeks fading as he smiled gratefully at Jimin.

“Sounds like a plan.” Jin shook his head, tutting a bit under his breathe as he patted Tae’s cheek, wiping the rest of the tears away while Tae was eager for the affection, leaning into the touch with the cheeky smile in place.

“Oh no, not so fast, you two little devils, first things are first. Finish your hair first and then we can go bug Yoongi for a shopping trip.” Jimin and Tae moaned in unison but obeyed Jin’s instructions as he pulled Jimin out of Tae’s hold to return him to the chair to finishing rinsing out the dye.

“So… Jiminie~” Tae started as Jimin closed his eyes, not wanting to see his hair yet. It made him feel slightly nervous. This was his first time ever dyeing his hair and he was antsy about the color he chose. But Jin assured him he would look wonderful so he went with the ash blond. He clamped his hands over the chair as he tilted his head towards Tae, humming to let him know he was listening. “Yoongi seems to have warmed up a bit to you.”

A snort racked through Jimin’s throat, disbelief coloring his pupils that had widened as he jerked his towards Tae, whose smile was teasing, wicked, and dark eyes eager. Jimin felt heat race across his cheeks.

“Gotcha,” Tae sang happily, smiling proudly. Swallowing quickly, Jimin shook his head adamantly, opening his mouth to rebuke the idea but no words came out. Jin tutted again, turning Jimin’s head back towards mirror. “That was quite a reaction, hm?”

“You little…” Jimin moaned, sighing heavily through his nose and sucking his teeth as he kept his gaze downwards. “You are looking far too into this TaeTae-ah. Get a life.”

“Actually, Tae has a point. When Tae was healing, you went right for Yoongi, not Tae,” Jin interjected, a smile blatant from his tone. More heat turned Jimin’s face red and he felt like he had a fever. “And Yoongi… didn’t react the way I was expecting him to.”

“Aish… it isn’t like that! Why are you guys reading into this so much?”

“Well, you’re face is the color of a tomato,” Tae joked, smiling happily in his direction. Jimin scoffed, agitation riding through his system as Jin steadied his head and shushed Tae. “I’m just curious is all. You seem to… avert to him.”

“I wouldn’t say that…” Jimin muttered, huffing again, before sighing and closing his eyes as he tried to sort out the flurry of thoughts going through his mind and cooling down his burning skin from the embarrassment. “It’s more like… he infuriates me. He is a contradiction and brash. He assumes to much.”

Jin hummed thoughtfully, a little chuckle following as his hands carded through Jimin’s hair as he began to carefully pull water through to wash the dye away. “It’s funny, because Yoongi has complained the same about you. He says your whiny, brash, and think you can solve things too quickly. He calls you a child, but the other day, he also said you were also intriguing. Confusing.”

“Whoa, Yoongi hyung called Jiminie intriguing?” Tae asked, brows raising nearly past the towel in surprise while Jimin’s lips twitched downwards, disapproval and a furrow to his brow. “I’ll take that as Yoongi likes you.”

“And you’re weirder than usual,” Jimin snarked back. The idea of Yoongi liking him was a slim to none, and yes, okay, the man was hot. Even a blind person would agree. He was lean, strong, a little rough. Picturesque image of bad boy with a cute side.

Not rocket scientist could figure that, but it also didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that Min Yoongi tolerated Jimin’s presence, especially this past week. Some days he seemed better than others, and next thing Jimin knows he is back to cold turkey and a shiver down his spine.

Jimin didn’t appreciate it. Not like that. He could admire, maybe even drool over it, but there definitely wasn’t anything past that. When Jimin was able to peek past Yoongi’s cold wall, he loved it, felt good, but he was tired of landing on his ass after a long climb.

He had accepted the fact the male while doesn’t hate him, but would never become Jimin’s best friend, he also put the barrier between them. He would only admire from afar, maybe sniff his jacket now and then but it was fine.

Cheol already told him- he wasn’t worth it. He didn’t have anything to offer. He wasn’t pretty enough. He was cute like Tae, or selfless like Jin was to Namjoon. He wasn’t strong like Jungkook to protect him, and he was insecure. Constantly needing reassurance.

What a catch right? Jimin’s mind supplied as he looked down at his lap, pushing the words from Cheol away from his mind, scratching like a itch that would never leave as Jin suddenly gripped his shoulder.

Well fuck… I forgot that he was here.

“Jimin, did he really say those things to you?” Jin asked, voice scarily calm. Tae, sensing the change in Jin’s mood furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side. Jimin swore he saw puppy ears flopping over at the look of confusion in his eyes. “Jimin, this Cheol, did he say those things to you?”

“Hyung…” Jimin sighed, gripping the edges of the chair so hard his hand ached, bones plastered white against the skin as he gritted his teeth and tried to not think about it, thinking instead of random shit like pineapples and american foods Jin cooked.

“He’s wrong. He’s so fucking wrong. Can’t you see it?”

“See what?” Tae all but whined, peeling himself away from the tub to approach the duo locked in a silent war, Jin’s eyes earching, desperate to meet Jimin’s but the smaller wasn’t having it.

Jin made a sound of irritation in the back of his throat, reaching out to lead Jimin’s face back towards Jin. Jimin stared blankly back at the older, mouth pressed firmly together as he stayed still.  

“Do you have to read every thought, hyung?”

“If you have thoughts like those, yes,” Jin replied without missing a beat, sounding firm. Jimin groaned, swatting JIn’s hand away from his face as he shook his head. The Telepath narrowed his eyes but dropped his hand. “I’ll finish your hair and you can go ask Yoongi to join us.”

“Wait, what? Why me?” Jimin turned back to face Jin with wide eyes, mouth agape. Jin had a slow smirk curling at his features as he looked from Jimin’s hair, back to his face, before looking at his clothes.

“Because.” Jin shrugged like it meant nothing before turning the boy back around and finishing the hair. Tae, still lost from what just happened, pouted before plopping himself back in the tub and entertained himself by singing american songs- Shape of You by Ed Sheeran being one of them.

“Sing with me, Chim Chim!” Tae said after the first chorus, sitting up a bit. Jimin hesitated, reluctant, but he had already sang in front of people. Why not sing for Tae again? So, he shrugged helplessly and sung in tune with Tae.

What Jimin wasn’t expecting was Jin to join in a bit later. Tae was squealing happiness, and even Jimin felt a burst of fondness cradled within his chest as Jin’s fingers worked, carefully rinsing his hair and working it out.

Everything was going to be okay.

 

*******

 

Screw suicide. Jimin was ready to kill. Flat out kill. He wasn’t sure who to start out with. Maybe crisp up Jin? Serve it to his husbands room with a golden platter? Or maybe, just possibly, grill Tae and suffer Jungkook’s wrath?

Quite a tossup, if he was being honest.

Still, the thought was tempting as he sent daggers towards the two giggling males dressed to the nines- similar to him at this point- who was waiting down the steps for Jimin to gather the great Min Yoongi while looking like he was a fucking model.

Tae, after revealing their newly done hair, blown dried and brushed to perfection, shoved Jimin into his room and dressed him in clothes that he would never choose on his own but the clothes fucking Baekhee bought for when he went out dancing.

Jimin really wanted to kill. Spill blood or boil it he didn’t care. He just wanted out- and yes, out of these super tight pants that certainly made things interesting. He really hoped he didn’t pop a boner anywhere, because he can already feel the discomfort of that.

“Go get him, sexy,” Tae cat called, cackling at the end of it. Jimin flashed the finger over his shoulder, scowling heavily that only sent both male back into hysterics. Huffing and marching further down the hall, Jimin stopped outside of Yoongi’s door.

His heart was like a wild animal, thrashing within its cage. He felt so uncomfortable in the tight leather pants, clinging to his thick thighs and shaping hi sass. He wanted to crawl under a rock and bury himself there. Unease bubbled in the pit of his stomach, causing his hands to blocks of literal ice while sweat burned at the back of his neck.

“Oh fuck me. How do I get into these situations?” He muttered to himself, running his palms over her pants and adjusting the rhinestone encrusted belt with his black tee tucked in, tight around his shoulders and chest which only added to his discomfort. He was too big for this shirt and it made him want to suck in his stomach.

His shoes consisted of black combat boots, his now ash blond hair fluffy and light while Jin wrangled him in make up. Silver eye shadow mixed lightly with black liner framed his almond eyes and he was itching to dart away.

Anxiety was climbing up his throat, clutching his vocal chords and sending shards of ice into every part of his body, stealing his breath a moment, panic causing his vision to cloud. He couldn’t swallow. He felt like his chest was wrapped in barbed wire.

He wanted out of this. He wanted out of the too tight clothing, showing off every bit of his flaws, of his too big thighs and stomach he couldn’t completely suck in. He wanted to wash his face and hide under a pillow.

Before Jimin could dart away, run away from the panic, from this. But it was too late since the door swung open to reveal Yoongi, a tired expression across his features and body clad in simple dark wash jeans, a kumamon shirt, and a light jacket.

If Jimin didn’t feel like vomiting across Yoongi’s converse covered feet, he might have cracked a joke about the shirt, but instead kept mouth pressed together, trying to control his ragged breathing and blood rushing to his ears.

“Jimin? What do you-” Yoongi paused, brow furrowing as his eyes went from his hair and then slowly, like he was devouring a steak slowly, raked his dark eyes down, lingering a bit at his thighs before looking back with an unreadable expression. “Um? Do you… need something?”

“J-jin hyung w-wants you to c-come with us. Um, s-shopping,” Jimin whooshed, face turning beet red as he fought to breathe, the anxiety gripping him harder, stealing his air as he stumbled, and he realized, with utmost horror, he was having a panic attack.

He desperately wanted to drag air in, his chest was screaming, aching like someone stabbed a dull spoon through it as he tried to even out his breathing, to remember how Baekhee would help him, but it only made it worse.

Baekhee wasn’t here.

His vision tunneled, and he could feel the blood within him sparking, coming alive and humming with power, reacting dangerously as they crackled and reached out. He stumbled a bit more, back hitting the wall as the lights flickered playfully, teasing him as he wheezed.

“Fuck,” he heard from under the water of panic Yoongi’s voice, eyes shifting uneasily towards the direction of the male. He could see the white mop of hair, face white washed with fear and even concern as his hands are out, twitching, but held back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, is this a panic attack? You have them right? You mentioned it once, right?”

Jimin lowered himself to the floor, his legs giving out beneath him as he couldn’t answer, tears burning in his eyes as Yoongi kneeled next to him, not touching him as he stared at Jimin’s hands in panic. He didn’t know what to do.

“Um, fuck, okay, listen to me, Jimin. Listen to my voice. I don’t really know anything about panic attacks- I have never had them. Not once,” Yoongi confessed, making a choked sound in the back of his throat as he rolled his eyes. “But Joon has a bad habit of literally saying random shit at the dinner table and he said something about panic attacks once. He literally just spats random bouts of info and annoys the shit out of me. I actually wondered once if he does it during sex with Jin too.”

Jimin wanted to laugh, but his chest hurt, he could barely hear. Everything felt suffocating, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room and he just wanted to lie down and cry. He doesn’t even know what triggered the panic attack or why now of all times to have one.

Maybe it was all the building up emotions, finally toppling over to crash to the bottom from the past few weeks. From his dad, to the run in with Cheol, to the attack at the bakery, to being whisked away, and saying goodbye and hurting Baekhee and nearly losing Tae.

It was too much. And it was finally exploding.

“Anyway not the point and I really don’t want to think of my closest friend’s sex life, that is a little uh, disturbing,” Yoongi continued, and Jimin mentally in the back of his mind made a mental note that when nervous, he tends to ramble. “As he was spouting random shit about panic attacks, he mentioned the person needs something to listen to. I don’t really know what to talk about or how to calm you, but maybe listen to my voice. It’s okay, you’re going to be fine. You told me about your mom right? She would help you? Well, I don’t really remember my mom much. If at all, really. It was so long ago, but I can remember little things. Like she smelled of vanilla, or that she use to run her fingers through my hair to get me to sleep, but that’s it. I can’t even remember what she looks like.”

Jimin focused on his voice, training his tunnel vision on Yoongi’s lips as he spoke, letting the gruff tones sooth the ache in his chest, letting his words pierce through the intentional panic as he gripped his shirt, wanting air.

“It seems kinda dumb, but I don’t really wanna remember her. She was my mom, and I loved her, but remembering her makes me sad, and when you don’t have a face to the affection, it almost loses it’s meaning and makes you feel lonelier. It’s dumb, I know. Hell, I can’t even remember her fucking name.” Yoongi gave a bittersweet smile, shrugging his shoulders as he settled in front of Jimin, dark eyes watching his reactions carefully. “This probably didn’t help much, ‘cause god knows it didn’t help me, but you seem to be breathing better.”

Jimin offered a eye smile, feeling the way his chest was loosening, oxygen slowly making it’s way back into him and relaxing the tense muscles from within while his mind absorbed everything Yoongi was saying.  His hands were still trembling, shaking like a leaf as they lay limp in his lap with little purple volts still jumping around, eager to do damage.

Yoongi eyed his hands wearily, licking his lips as he shifted. Jimin noticed, wordlessly slipping his hands between his thighs and leaned back his head. He closed his eyes and for a moment, soaked in the mutual understanding that was falling over the pair.

“You alright, Jimin?”

“You actually said my name.” Jimin’s voice cracked pitifully, removing the sarcasm that was supposed to be laced there as he cleared his throat, trying to bring back some of his voice. He avoided Yoongi’s bemused gaze. “You said my name without insulting me. I’m impressed.”

“And you ruined it,” Yoongi quipped, shaking his head with a sigh. “And you get on me about ruining a moment. This is why I don’t play nice. It gets thrown in my face.”

“Cry me a river, sloth,” Jimin replied lightly, soaking up the banter and letting it smooth out the rest of the lingering effects that left a bad taste in his mouth. Yoongi groaned and scrunched his nose- and damn if Jimin didn’t want to take a picture of it.

“Alright, kitten, no need to take your claws out,” Yoongi teased, easily unfurling himself and getting to his feet. Jimin opened his mouth to reply when the endearment slammed into him, backfiring and short circuiting his brain. He was pretty sure he turned the most unhealthy shade of red. Ever. Yoongi glanced back and smirked at the reaction. “Cat got your tongue?”

Red hot embarrassment tinged his ears red as he stared in shock and horror at the sly looking Yoongi, whose smirk would make a god bend over gay to even grace their sight upon as he looked Jimin’s shocked form over.

“Who knew a simple pet name could rile this kinda reaction,” Yoongi mused, crossing his arms while satisfaction brightened his features. He was enjoying this. Jimin could tell by the curl to his lip, the straightened back.

Yoongi wants to play. Alright, I’ll bite, Jimin thought as he gained control of the shock that frozen him for a while and slid himself up. A part of him was screeching in horror- it was one thing to put on this persona when at a club with Baekhee, but another to use it on someone he fucking knows.

But he didn’t stop as he ran his hand up his leg, tilting his head back to show off his throat, leaning against the wall for support as he let his own smirk curl his lips. At a club, where it was dark, drugs being passed as much as the drinks, was one thing.

He had never done this a) sober or b) in front of someone he will see again. He felt awkward but he was a dancer. He knew how to use his body, despite how it was, and how to execute it. Cheol helped with that too, so he wasn’t stupid.

Besides, Jimin wasn’t going to let Yoongi win this round. It wasn’t in his nature.

Darting out his tongue to lick his lips, he used his teeth to catch his bottom lip as he ran his hand slowly up his leg, pausing a bit at the top of his thigh. He watched as yoongi’s amusement fell, face falling carefully blank but his eyes followed the movement.

It was invigorating. He certainly wouldn’t call himself sexy by any means, no matter what Baekhee tells him, he will still never believe her. He didn’t consider himself to be grand, but watching as Yoongi’s face fell blank, eyes trailing after him, he felt desirable. And he loved it.

Cheol always made him anxious, unsure, and insecure, constantly eyeing him like he was ready to tear apart every flaw and leave him gutted across the floor, no matter how hard Jimin tried to please.

Humming under his breathe darkly, keeping his eyes hooded, he stepped forward to Yoongi who stood utterly still, legs becoming locked while his eyes carefully followed Jimin’s movement, dark and unreadable as the smaller leaned close, hot breathe taking over pale neck of Yoongi.

“Don’t call me ‘kitten’ cause this cougar has more than claws, Honey Bunches,” Jimin warned lowly, lowering his vocal range before pulling away to admire the shocked look on Yoongi’s face. A smirk coated Jimin’s as he raised his brow. “Jin hyung’s calling. You’re ordered to go shopping with us. Dress sexy, Honey Bunches.”

Before Yoongi could even grace Jimin with an answer, he turned on his heel and made sure to have a little sway to his hips as he floated down the stairs only to lower himself to the floor in horror, face once again red, as he realized what he just did.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuckty fuckty fucker,” Jimin swore, mouth agape as he replayed it over and over in his mind like a bad movie and for a moment, Jimin seriously debated that whole suicide thing. “I just… tried… to… seduce… fucking Min Yoongi. Honey Bunches? The fuck?  What the fuck, Park Jimin. What the actual fuck. Someone please just end me and put me out of my misery. I beg you.”

His gracious end didn’t come.

 

********

 

Did Jimin mention that the car ride was awkward? No? Okay, the car ride was so fucking awkward that even Tae was quiet, Jimin was once again debating suicide while Jin was just smirking the entire time and probably would have said something if Yoongi didn’t look like he was about to strangle him.

So… awkward much? Oh yes, definitely. Jimin was sitting in the back, sadly next to Yoongi, who had at least followed instructions to dress sexy since Jin insisted that they have some fun while out.

They deserved it after everything that has been happening and Tae being Tae leaped at the chance to wear fucking Gucci. To say Jimin’s jaw nearly hit the floor when the Bridge came out wearing shoe laces that were more expensive than his entire wardrobe was well… an understatement.

He looked fantastic, Jimin ain’t gonna lie. His legs were clad in wide denim ripped jeans, a butterfly embroidered on the right thigh with a blue long sleeve button up- all Guci mind due- and his shoes were some kinda expensive ass shit hat Jimin had never seen before but he looked good.

His newly dyed hair added a  mysterious appeal, the dusty grey looking amazing with his longer, untamed hair and a earring that was apparently also Gucci. It had a chain that linked it to the top and hung down on his right ear.

He sat at the front with Jin, who thankfully wasn’t dressed in gucci but close enough. He wore black jeans, (and not wearing a mom sweater which is one reason why Tae started referring to the male as that besides his obsession with cooking) a black graphic tee, a leather jacket, and make up dark.

Of course their was Yoongi. Min fucking Yoongi. Jimin really wanted to kill Jin first, for making him do this, then Tae for going along with it, then himself so he doesn't have to handle the embarrassment that has been keeping his cheeks redder than an America fire truck he toured when he was eight at an musuem.

Black leather pants, white shirt, with a leather jacket and black snapback and sunglasses. Simple right? Mouthwatering? Fuck yes. The pants showed off thin, shapely legs, the converse showing small feet, and the white shirt was a bit loose, giving him aloof feel. His white hair was hidden under the snapback, which was backwards on his head, and the sunglasses covered his made-up kohl lined eyes.

Jimin kept his gaze locked out the window, phone clenched in his hand as he texted Jihyun back and forth, sending him a selfie of his newly dyed hair that had his little brother laughing and saying how dad would definitely disown him now.

Jihyun: if catches you with that hair, you really are gonna be disowned.

Jimin: Wouldn’t be the first time. Speaking of which, he hasn’t cut off my phone yet??? Is he planning on it???
Jihyun: Yes, but he has been busy with work and hasn’t had time. Something about new meetings and new director? I don’t really know or care. But, Jimin, I do love that hair. It’s suiting.

Jimin smiled, warmth flooding his system. Jihyun was a saving grace. He stopped pestering him about when he was coming home and instead spoke about nothing in particular which was relieving.

But the whole in his heart, though small was still there. He missed his baby brother and wished to see him, but he wasn’t in control yet. He hadn’t worked hard enough and he knew it, so he settled for the texts and selfies instead.

Jimin: Thanks, Ji-ah.

Jimin: Have u heard from Baek?

Jihyun: Yeah… she’s getting there. She doesn’t talk about you much. She is still quiet but she takes care of me still. So don’t worry about me, u midget. Whatever ur doing, it’s important if u left. U promised u would come back.

Jimin: i did… but I don’t know when that will be. I… have things to do.

Jihyun: I trust u. R u still dancing?

Jimin: Not really… I’ve been busy.

Jiyun: -_-

Jimin: I will! I will go dance soon. Promise.

Jihyun: ok. Gotta go. Bye loser.

Jimin smiled, feeling the awkwardness deflate a bit at the words of his brother before he shut off his phone and returned his gaze to the window, watching as he got closer to Busan, the place that was once his home but now was merely a memory.

It didn’t make him as sad as it did before. He had a home, not a house, and it was among six beautiful people. People he wanted to help, even if one of them was grouchy and sleepy all the time and he may or may not have made a fool of himself in front of.

“Alright, Tae-ah, I was thinking of heading to the Biff mall for Jungkookie’s present,” Jin spoke up, breaking the less awkward quiet and glancing over at the boy in his passenger seat.

“Sounds good!”

“Yoongi, Jiminie, is that alright with you guys?” Jin glanced up in the rearview mirror, catching Jimin’s gaze before flickering to Yoongi who only shrugged. Jimin smiled lightly, sending a soft agreement. “Good. We will be there in five.”

Jimin nodded, returning to peer out the window and fiddle absently with his phone since he doesn’t want to let the slowly building anxiety return and ruin the bless he was having from the post-attack earlier.

One he would truly like to forget, but Yoongi’s words he never would. A part of him was ecstatic. He knew something about Yoongi now, something personal. It honestly wasn’t much, nearly a chip of the whole puzzle, not even a full piece, but it was something.

It also added to his curiosity. What happened to his mother? Did she die? Run away? How long has it been since he has seen her? He mentioned not really being able to remember her. Jimin could understand that. There was things he was forgetting about to.

He was also grateful. The white haired Spark next to him hasn’t uttered a word about his earlier embarrassment of the panic attack and everything after that. In fact he hadn’t even glanced in his direction. The relief was tangible.

Jin pulled into the huge parking lot, which was already bustling with people and cars, filling up the spaces instantly. Yoongi stared absently out the window towards the large glass, dome shaped building that seemed to stretch for miles.

A gasp tore through Jimin as he stared a bit wide eyed at the huge, classy building. He hardly ever came to this side of Busan, even with Baekhee, and instead shopped over at the smaller shopping center more towards the east of Busan Providence, so he hasn’t seen a mall this big, this stylish before.

It appeared to be at least three stories. The glass was clean and he could people wandering around the upper floors that seemed to weave and stretch in interesting ways across the landscape.

He couldn’t help having a rush of excitement, a ‘wahhhh’ escaping his mouth as he stared out the window with wide eyes, even debating pulling out his phone to snap a picture and send it Jihyun to see.

Yoongi watched Jimin from the corner of his eye, biting back a smile at the childish wonder across his face while his tiny hands were splayed across the glass of the car. It was a endearing, a complete contrast from the boy in the hall earlier. Jimin had his eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, and a smile causing his eyes to turn to crescents.

Tae was bouncing in his seat, giggling right along with Jimin as he reached out and clasped Jimin’s tiny hand as they grinned eagerly to each other. A pool of warmth formed in his chest, glancing at the two youngers, being themselves, being there with them,

He may not say it, but he truly did care for them. He owed Jin and Namjoon his life, giving him a chance to redeem himself and choose what he wants to believe. He didn’t deserve it and he knew it, but they gave it to him anyway.

Now with Jimin, he was quickly worming his way into Yoongi’s heart too. Much faster than all the others. He was smart, sassy, shy, adorable, quick-witted, and apparently can turn into a walking sex god within a split second. He was also selfless, and thoughtful. He was instantly there for those who needed him.

Yes, Yoongi had a feeling he would start to open up a lot more than he already has because of Park Jimin, the whose smile made his eyes disappear with the force of that smile. A fraction of him hated it. He never liked to feel desire to protect people- it lead to pain.

That all went to hell when Namjoon took him in, when Jin cared for him like a mother does, like his mother did, and when Jungkook, who was only 13 at the time treated him like family, a little brother before what happened six months ago. Tae never feared him, always giving him affection and offering love endlessly. And Hobi’s constant understanding even when he doesn’t want to understand.

Now he cared about five people, people he would die for. Park Jimin was certainly easing himself up on that list. He loved them more than he loved his own family. A family he hasn’t seen in a long, long time.

Jin pulled into a parking space and before he could even throw the car into park, Tae was already out and grinning widely. Jimin was giggling, shifting his eyes to Yoongi with a huge smile as he gestured towards the mall.

“Come on!” He said, slipping out of the car to follow after Tae, running over and grasping excitedly at Tae’s arm. Yoongi shook his head, already disliking the amount of energy the younger boys seem to have as he climbs out as well, stepping by Jin’s side.

Jin had a smile on his face, borderline a smirk as he watched Yoongi in amusement. Yoongi huffed and rolled his eyes, not in the mood to have the telepath nudging a rile out of him.

“Not a word, Jin.”

“None whatsoever, Yoons.” Jin offered a sweet smile, his vanilla scent stronger than usual as he strutted over to the two youngest and took their hands as they headed for the crosswalk. Yoongi made a noise in the back of his throat, shoving his hands in his pocket as he followed behind at a slower pace.

Why he came her wasn’t sure, but here he was, following them into the double doors with a bored expression while Jimin kept making a sound of astonishment, taking out his phone a few times to snap a picture and Tae was just staring lovingly at the huge food court filled with all kinds of food.

“Eomma! Can I get a caramel apple?” Jimin cried out suddenly, tugging quickly at the older man’s jacket, eyes the size of dinner plates as he stared at the counter that held different types of candy apples, caramel apples, and other american treats.

Jin followed his line of sight and smiled as Tae’s jaw dropped at the sight and started begging himself, tugging on Jin’s other sleeve. For a split second, Yoongi’s brow arched as he eyed the two as he questioned how old they truly were.

“On the way out we can get some and bring some back for the others,” Jin proposed, fluffing Tae’s hair. Jimin brightened a bit more, nearly sparkling as he nodded his head briskly.

“That sounds good! I think Hobi hyung would like that and Joon hyung is always working on tracking he could use something sweet,” he mused as he looked over at Tae. Tae nodded his agreement before glancing around the huge, bustling food court.

“Let’s head to the skateboard shop first- I’m planning on getting him a skateboard. Chim Chim, can you get him something Iron Man? He loves Iron Man, and Eomma.” Tae turned to Jin as his brow furrowed, mumbling to himself a second. “He has been talking about this new X-Box game. Maybe try that?”

“Sure. What should Yoongi look for?” Jin answered, looking over at the last male. “Hobi and Joonie already have his presents so we don’t have to worry- Joonie ordered a jacket online and Hobi I think bought him new Timberlands.”

“Justin Bieber?” Tae offered weakly. Yoongi’s nose scrunched instantly, disgust prominent as he shook his head while Tae burst into giggles and waved the thought away. “No, no. Yoongi hyung, you can buy him headphones or a sound speaker. Joonie hyung broke the last one.”

“Aish that guy,” Yoongi sighed, adjusting his snapback. Jimin bit back a smile as he agreed silently. He was really starting to get why the Knowledge Seeker was banned from the kitchen and why Tae hid all his comic books.

The man was the biggest klutz and that was really saying something because Jimin wasn’t far behind. He just doesn’t break anything- only his pride for the most part. Like one time he was just lifting his leg to cross and he threw himself off the chair.

He doesn’t like to talk about how that happened because he honestly doesn’t even know how he managed that. But whatever.
“Let’s go to the skateboarding shop first then and work our way down,” Jimin offered. Jin agreed and soon the four them were squished together as they weaved themselves through the crowd, somehow ending up with Jimin a bit too close to Yoongi for his comfort.

Yoongi shot him a glance when a older man bumped into Jimin, whose footing was knocked off as he stumbled and he barely caught himself from falling face first by grabbing Yoongi’s arm, steadying himself as his cheeks tinted pink.

“Um, sorry,” he muttered, jerking his hand away like it burned him and let it fall to his side, twitching in nerves as he lowered his sleeves to hide the purple lightening that while had gotten better, still wasn’t under complete control.

Tae and Jin glanced back,  pausing to close the small gap that formed between the four them from the crowds. Jimin licked his lips and scurried to catch up while Yoongi only meandered closer as they started walking again.

Tae seemed lost in thought as he walked next to Jin, the wonder of such an amazing place wearing off as the past week filters back in his mind, the absence that left a gap in his heart while the words of his boyfriend reverberated through his mind.

He was still hurt, but he felt better. He hated ignoring Jungkook for so long. It was tedious and tiresome and only caused more pain. He just didn’t want to cause conflict and disliked confrontation. He rather be happy then deal with that.

Maybe that was why he let the younger catch him out of his shower. He was too tired to keep it up and maybe he also really missed him too. Still, the encounter was still hot in his mind, branding itself there.

Dark, dull eyes stared back at Tae in the mirror, causing his frown to grow and the furrow between his brow to annoy him as he stared with distaste at his hair, no longer purple and too long. A bland brown that reminded him of home, and his forlorn expression devoid of the usual smile.

His skin no longer held the pink tinge of newly created skin and evened to his honey tone, but he felt like he wasn’t Kim Taehyung. He felt like he was a stranger, that the happiness that made him up had been burned from him and died with Soonshim.

Or maybe ripped away from how Jungkook reacted, how he shouted and called Tae the one word he hated. Weak. A Bridge who was nothing against  a Igniter. Against someone like Jungkook or even Jimin. A Non Combat, Rank 1 Spark.

How Yoongi reacted, and how Namjoon and the others blamed themselves. He hated it. The anger at his boyfriend was pooling in his belly, but at the same time, he couldn't remain angry. Kookie meant everything to him. He couldn’t…

A sob crawled up his throat, but he pushed it away, shoving it back down as he numbly dressed in his adventure time pajama bottoms, a simple loose burgundy shirt, and sniffled, preparing himself for another long night of no sleep.

He didn’t want to bother Jiminie with his problems, and Yoongi was working on a new something and Jin and Namjoon could be busy. He knew better to walk in and attempt to sleep with the married couple. Hobi hyung was always an option but Tae wasn’t in the mood to cuddle with the one person who would know his every feeling.

Sighing to himself, biting back another wave of loneliness and agony, unwilling to give in to his own childishness even though this entire thing was stupid. He would be the first to admit it, but he was tired of being weak, of having everyone only see him as a Rank 1 Bridge. The joke of the Spark world.

Not even his boyfriend could look past it.

Straightening, he kept his gaze away from the mirror as he grabbed his clothes and unlocked the door, glancing around the dark hallway to make sure no one was around before he slipped out and padded quietly towards the bedroom he hasn't used since Jungkook.

Closing the door behind him, he lingered by the door a moment, just closing his eyes and willing the sadness away not that it ever worked. When he finally turned around, a cry lodged in his throat when he saw Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed, looking like a kicked puppy.

His head was own, his feet inwards and hands limb in his lap while his shoulders sagged like the force of the world was weighing him down. He looked so young and lost, like the light had turned off and stopped his path.

Guilt washed over Tae instantly, curdling bitterly in his stomach and tangling within his thoughts as he stared sadly at his boyfriend, the man who held his heart in so many ways. He couldn’t stop the way he breathed his name.

“Jungkook…”

“Taehyung…” Jungkook croaked, peeking through his raven fringe, doe eyes searching as he looked over his boyfriend's face, taking in the damp hair and defeated expression before looking back down. “You’re avoiding me.”

Taehyung swallowed audibly, looking down, unable to lie, so therefore, unable to answer. Jungkook shuddered in the silence, mouth twisting as his eyes flooded with agony, getting to his feet as he peers over Tae, desperation stark across his face.

“Tae, Handsome, please… look at me. I… can’t… I can’t take the silence from you,” he whispered, voice cracking with each word as he takes a step forward. Tae bit his lip, reluctant, afraid of what he will see. “Baby, please.”

Wincing, Tae lifted his head, parting his hair to peer at Jungkook’s face. Shadows were casted over his youthful features, sadness wearing him down, but as he saw Tae’s face, he reached out with shaking hands, reaching towards him only to pause, eyes searching, waiting if he would be allowed.

Tae remained still, watching. Waiting. Jungkook took it as permission. He reached out and cupped Tae’s cheeks, his hands as warm as they always are as they touch the softness of the cheeks. A shuddering exhale followed, Tae soaking in the warmth as he nuzzled into Jungkook’s hand, the tears he had been holding sliding down his cheeks.

Jungkook pulled him close, running his fingers through his hair, flushing Tae’ body against his and kissing his hair, his temple, breathing in the scent of him. The scent that had been denied for four days. Four days of Tae’s silence, of not having his touch or laugh.

It was torture. It was tearing him apart. Shredding his insides because Taehyung was his rock. Tae was there for him, took him under his wing and brought him out of his shell. He got him to talk, and to be able to speak to others and to play and be himself.

He needed Tae.

Taehyung sobbed, breathing in Jungkook, the warmth, the security that flooded him as he was locked in his arms, letting the male lather him with love, kissing his hair and cheeks and letting him have his moment. Tae gripped at his shirt, sobbing out all the grief, the pain, and turmoil that he has been keeping to himself in front of others, even Jimin.

Jungkook only held him, keeping him close and silently letting him know that he was here and he wasn’t going to let him go. Tae managed to gather himself, pulling himself away and turning his body so he wouldn’t face Jungkook.

“Why are you here?” Tae whispered, bending down to start gathering the dirty clothes from earlier although the room was pretty much spotless. He just wanted to move, to be distracted. He missed Jungkook, he really, really did but he couldn’t.

“Because I miss you. I can’t take the silence from you anymore.” Jungkook watched Tae move around the room, fixing things that didn’t really need fixing. Tae never even glanced at him and it sent pings of pain through him.

“You… you hurt me,” Tae admitted after the silence stretched on, filling the room with agonized, unspoken tension as he paused in his work, glancing over at Jungkook with hardened eyes. Jungkook blinked, dropping his gaze back to the carpet. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Yelling at Joonie hyung, bringing up someone else's past? Yoongi hyung’s past? Calling me weak?”

A gasp tore through Jungkook, head jerking up as his eyes blazed. He shook his head adamantly, reaching out to touch Tae, but the older stepped back, once again disallowing him the permission to touch. Jungkook’s face crumbled.

“Really Jungkook? Throwing Yoongi hyung’s past in his face? How would you feel if I shouted your own past out, told everyone what I know and what you did? And Soonshim… ‘a fucking dog’? That ‘fucking dog’ saved my life. He died protecting me when I was the one who asked Joonie hyung to give me a chance in the field,” Tae snarled, angry causing his deep voice to drop another octave, but he never raised it.

It was almost more terrifying than if he was screaming at him.

Regret. Remorse. Fear. It seized Jungkook’s limbs, causing his mouth to stop working as he stared helplessly at his boyfriend, each word driving a stake through his heart. He felt helpless and he knew just by looking at Tae’s face that he fucked up.

He looked livid. Shaking from anger. Hurt, betrayal, disgust was plastered across his face and it was a look he never once wanted from the man he treasured so dearly. A man he promised to care for and to never see cry. In the past week he has broken that promise endlessly.

“Yelling at Eomma? Joonie hyung? Are you gonna yell at me to? Tell me how reckless I was for finally trying to be something other than a stupid Bridge? To do something as something as scouting on my own?”

“T-tae, please,” he whispered desperately, reaching to try again but Tae jerked back, a sneer curling his lips. Jungkook felt his heart stutter in his chest, cracks forming across his guarded heart. “I d-didn’t mean it l-like that. I’m s-sorry Tae. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry for what? For hurting me? For hurting my family? Or because you’re dating someone as useless as me, because that’s how you made me feel. Useless.” His world was falling apart. He knew at the time he needed to shut up, but he was angry, panicked and scared, and it wasn’t a good excuse but this was making the air hard to breathe. “I came here to help people, for my dad and his beliefs and for mine. To be stronger, but instead I gained a family. And… I gained someone I love.”

A whimper went through Jungkook, legs shaking and threatening to give out beneath him. His arms felt heavy, weighed down by rocks and regret so strong he was surprised he was still standing.

When Jungkook was thirteen and just got here, just agreed to be a part of a Faction, he didn’t speak much. Too afraid to speak in fear of what would happen. Then their was fifteen year old Kim Taehyung. A bright, excited boy who always pulled him to play and speak and be himself. Tae took care of him at first.

But that all changed as they grew older, and Jungkook donned the role of caring for Tae. He wasn’t sure how it happened. He grew up, gone was the skinny shy kid while Tae remained himself. He just started wanting to repay Tae and in the midst of it, he fell for him.

He wasn't sure when, but he did, and he was happy when he was able to show his love the way he wanted. Younger he may be, but willing to care for the older because that was what Taehyung needed.

But right now, he felt like the younger one. He felt horrible, bitter at his own actions, realizing just how badly he fucked up and all because he wasn’t thinking straight. The idea of losing Tae was earth shattering.

“You really hurt me, Jungkook.” The full name was like a punch to the gut, causing him to bow his head in shame. “I trusted you to stand by my side, to let me be myself. To let me find my way. That was how it was before we dated. You helped get me stronger. You supported me. Do you really not think I can stand for myself?”

“Tae, baby, I-” Jungkook stopped, unable to finish because fuck, what was he supposed to say? How could he atone for this? He said the words, and if anyone knows how one voice can change someone, or something, it was him. Shaking his head, he forced himself to meet Tae’s hard, sad gaze. “I’m sorry. I was wrong, and I shouldn’t have said anything. There are no words for what I have done to you. But I will spend my time trying to make it up to you, to show you. If you will allow me.”

Tae analyzed his face, taking in the chiseled face that has grown so much from the 13 year old boy to the man he was now. He had lost the childish chub to his cheeks, gaining a sharper jawline. His lips filled in a bit, his body filling out into muscles and chiseled chest. He still had the bunny teeth, but he wasn’t that 13 year old boy anymore. Almost reaching Taehyung in height.

Reaching out a hand, he lightly touched Jungkook’s cheek, admiring the doe brown eyes he loved so much then tracing the jaw with his icy hands before pausing at the lips, remembering the way they felt and how they were always so gentle.

Jungkook remained still, letting Taehyung explore, letting him rediscover him while restraining his hands to stay by his side no matter how much he wanted to encompass him in his arms.

A little smile crossed Tae’s features as the anger melted and replaced by fondness, warmth, and love shining from his eyes as he tangled his long fingers in Jungkook’s raven hair and pulled his head to meet Tae’s lips.

A moan instantly fell from the younger’s throat as he slithered his arms around Taehyung’s thin waist, slipping his hands up his shirt to caress the warm skin there, lather it with love from the abuse it suffered as his tongue tangled with Tae’s, dominating the game nearly instantly. Tae shuddered in his arms, giving in to Jungkook’s dominance while his skin broke out in goosebumps from his lover’s touch.

Jungkook was addicted to Taehyung’s lips. The fullness, how soft they felt against his and how they were playful just like him. He ached for Tae’s hands in his hair, the way they ran over his shoulders and silently urged him on with a lick to his lips.

He pressed his body impossibly closer, needing to feel Taehyung’s heat, his affection as he pressed the older against the door. Taehyung groaned low, throwing his head back, skin burning with the desire to be touched. He rolled his hips as jungkook ravaged his neck, teeth nipping at his skin, but not hard enough to leave marks.

Jungkook’s hard body felt so good against him. He kept his arms around the younger’s neck as he soaked up the feeling of Jungkook’s lips, kissing at his jaw and collarbone, teasing the skin and licking enough to cause another moan to leave the older’s mouth.

Jungkook, breathing a bit ragged and pupils blown from desire as he held Tae up by his waist, fingers caressing his tawny skin, looked up and met Tae’s lustful gaze. “I love you so much, Tae. So much. I would give everything to you, and I am so sorry.”

Tae smiled, a blush coating his flushed cheeks and breathing equally as ragged while his lips, covered with saliva from the hot kiss tingling and begging for more as he leaned over and pressed his forehead against Jungkook’s.

“I love you too, Kookie. I always will. Just give me you, it’s all I ask,” Taehyung whispered back, nuzzling him gently. Jungkook broke out into a relieved smile, recapturing Tae’s lips in a sweet kiss, just letting his lips move in a gentle, loving dance.

Tae didn’t seem to mind as they just stayed there, huddled against the door and rekindling their affection as they lazily kissed. The sexual drive was gone, just leaving them with soft smiles and whispers of love.

“I’m sorry I ignored you… and was reckless… I-”

“Tae… it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here. I’m here.”

“TaeTae, what about this skateboard?” Jimin offered, appearing in front of Tae with a black and red skateboard. Tae blinked, glancing around and realizing that at some point they had arrived to the skateboard store.

It was dimly lit, music blasting and lights appearing over the shelves that had been strung with different skateboard and people milled around. He was standing blankly near the back, staring at nothing in particular and he wondered how he got in here.

Jimin lowered the skateboard, offering a little smile as he ruffled his hair. “You were lost in your thoughts- Eomma promised you were fine. We helped you in here. So, skateboard?”

Tae glanced at it, a smile crossing his features before nodding. “It’s perfect. Thank you Chim Chim.”

“You’re welcome. Now, we better go gather Yoongi hyung. He stopped to ‘rest’ at a bench and I think he fell asleep,” Jimin answered, looking back towards the entrance with a frown while Tae only giggled.

“Not again, hyung.”

Chapter Text

“Happy birthday, Jungkookie!” Tae shouted, long body suddenly landing on top of the sleeping form of Jungkook. A groan fell from his lips at the sudden weight of his boyfriend, who was giggling and laughing as he wiggled. “Wake up birthday boy! You’re sixteen!”

Jungkook groaned, peeling open one eye to see messy haired Tae, whose face was still slightly puffy and his dusty grey hair sticking up. He was makeupless, and it was Jungkook’s personal favorite a lazy smile curled across his face.

Tae looked adorable wearing a white tee and his duckling boxers as he laid on top of his form, and it made a swell of warmth fill his chest and make him feel light. He reached over and pulled Tae down so that his back was pressed against his chest.

Tae squeaked at the sudden movement as Jungkook buried his nose in Tae’s neck, breathing his fruity scent of cherries and raspberry that he loved from his lotion. A deep giggled followed as the larger boy turned himself around, facing Jungkook with a bright smile.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Jungkook whispered, admiring his features. Tae flushed a bit, ducking his head in embarrassment. A contented smile wormed onto his lips as he leaned over and gave Jungkook a chaste kiss.

“Someone is in a affectionate mood,” Tae teased when he pulled away to be met with Jungkook’s whining. He wiggled his body a bit more, loving how he was caged in his lovers arms as Jungkook nodded.

“Because I am waking up next you again. How can I not be, Pookie?” Jungkook asked, cupping his face to lean down and press more feather kisses across Tae’s lips. The kisses weren’t demanding, but soft, lingering, and lazy. He knew it was Tae’s favorite kind.

When he pulled away again, he secretly enjoyed the red staining Tae’s cheeks as the boy swatted playfully at Jungkook, who only chuckled lightly and flashed his bunny smile. “Why do you insist on calling me ‘pookie’? Aish.”

“Because it’s cute like you.”

“My ears are bleeding from your cheesiness. Make it stop,” Tae deadpanned, rolling his eyes. Jungkook only giggled and made sure he had his arms around Tae to keep him from moving as the said boy thrashed playfully. “Kookie!”

“You have blinded me with your beauty, oh Great Pookie.”

“I swear to Jisoo,” Tae groaned, banging his fists lightly against Jungkook’s arm as he nuzzled him, tickling Tae’s sides as he grinned, listening to the laughter bouncing off the walls of their shared room.

“Do you work at Starbucks? Because I like you a latte,” Jungkook said in poor English. Tae groaned throwing his head back as he continued his escape movements but Jungkook wasn’t letting up, relishing having the male in his arms. “Do you have a map? I’m getting lost in your eyes.”

“No, but I do have a map to your tickle spots,” Tae answered breathlessly as he wrenched his body on the dime, kicking the blankets off his legs as he pulled himself up and straddled Jungkook’s waist, thighs deliciously squeezing his middle as his fingers attacked his sides.

Jungkoko howled with laughter at the relentless attack of his fingers, rectangle smile bright as Jungkook wiggled and begged, tears falling from his eyes and stomach cramping. The bed groaned as the laughter ceased and he tried to crawl away.

“You two better not be having Birthday sex in there! I swear to Jisoo, Jeon Jungkook, if you deflower my baby-”

“He has already been deflowered! What makes you think Kim Taehyung isn’t just as horny!” Yoongi cuts off Seokjin, annoyance coating his voice while Tae and Jungkook freeze. JIn screeched in horror at Yoongi’s words while Tae was painted a lovely shade of red.

“Not my baby!”

“Hyung, I hate to burst your bubble, but none of your babies seem to be innocent. Do you know what Jimin said earlier when I said I wanted a American hot dog?” Hobi spoke up. Tae was biting his lip, still straddling Jungkook as the raven haired sat up, pulling Tae close as he grinned in amusement at the conversation happening outside their door.

“Hyung! No!” Jimin shouted, followed by the sound of bare feet slapping against the wood and Hobi’s laugh slipping through the door. Jungkook rolled his eyes, huffing a bit at being interrupted his tickle time with Tae, who just seemed to be amused at this point.

“Jiminie! My last baby! You can’t! You’re innocent right?” Jin cried, and Jungkook swore he could see his pleading eyes through the walls towards the ash blond just like he was sure he could see Jimin’s little smirk that would be there.

“Eomma, you’ve read my thoughts.”

“Guys, as much as I hate to break up the moment here, but I was in the middle of wrestling with my boyfriend so if you could-”

“Jeon Jungkook! My baby!” Jin shouted, the panic returning. Tae squeaked and started shaking his adamantly as Jungkook snickered.

“Eomma, we were having a tickle fight. Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jungkook deadpanned. Jin fell quiet before Yoongi, Jimin, and Hobi burst into laughter as Jin started swearing and mumbling about how he should have known that. Tae was giggling too, content still on Jungkook’s lap.

“Oh whatever. Your birthday breakfast will be ready in half an hour. The rest of you- Hobi go put on some pants- are helping me.” The sound of a chorus of groans echoed throughout the hall before the sound of footsteps followed. Tae slipped off of Jungkook, who instantly whined as cold air brushed where Tae was warming him.

Tae glanced back with raised brows at the whining noise, smiling gently as he skipped back over to kiss his temple and dodged grabby hands of his sleepy boyfriend. Jungkook jutted out his lower lip when he didn’t get his boyfriend.

“I am going to go help Eomma, Kookie. I already showered last night, so you can go shower before heading downstairs,” Tae said, removing his shirt to expose his vast tawny back, a patch of skin that was mangled and raised a bit from where he was burned.

The smile feel from Jungkook’s face, staring at the skin that was there because he failed. He trusted Tae, he promised him he would, but he would always see that day as the day he failed. It hurt, and he looked back up to admire the muscles shifting under the honey skin.

“Tae,” Jungkook said, pushing himself to sit up. Taehyung glanced back over his shoulder, eyes wide in surprise as he pulled jeans over his legs and adjusted his white, long sleeved sweater with a cocked head. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Kookie. It’s your birthday. We have lots of things in store today,” Tae promised, moving back over to kiss his forehead. Jungkook closed his eyes, soaking the affection before Tae touched his hair and smiled. “Now go shower. Breakfast will be ready soon.”

Jungkook nodded, shuffling himself out of bed as his boyfriend slipped out of the room to join the others down stairs. For a moment, Jungkook sat on the edge of his bed, smiling to himself because he knew today would be a good day.

It was hard to believe he was 16. That he had actually remained alive till now and he was so grateful for everyone down those stairs doing these things for him. Even Yoongi. Yoongi who before what happened six months ago effected them was also there for Jungkook.

Yoongi taught Jungkook how to use a gun, to protect himself without using his power, and treated him like he wasn’t some snot nosed brat but like a person who went through something and was wanting to change himself.

Before six months ago, Jungkook had the greatest respect for the white haired male. He inspired him. What happened almost two weeks prior caused his gut to clench, pain slamming into him when he remembered how he treated Yoongi.

If he could, he would go back and erase it. Tae was right, like he usually was. He had no right to go and tell Yoongi’s backstory when at least the male had enough decency to not say his own story that he has kept under lock and key.

He felt like a horrible person, spouting out someone else's story when he didn’t know everything, just like Yoongi didn’t know everything about him but he knew enough. Even though he reconciled with Yoongi after Tae was healed, he hasn’t apologized and he would plan on doing it.

He owed it to himself and to Taehyung.

Getting to his feet, he gathered clothes for the day before heading towards the shower, smiling at the sounds of his family downstairs, bustling about in the kitchen.

 

******

 

“Yoongi, can you grab the blue ribbon?” Jimin asked, sticking out his tongue as he tugged at the purple ribbon, feet on the couch, toes up so he could reach the corner where he was putting up streamers.

Yoongi was standing below, watching him wearily, and brown eyes as tired as usual. The living room looked good so far, covered in blue, purple, and dark green streamers along the ceiling while ‘Happy 16th birthday’ hung in streamers in the archway.

Jimin hated to admit that he wasn’t tall enough to complete that and had to let Jin do it. Namjoon had tried to, but as soon as he stepped into the room to help, a batch of party supplies fell and spread out across the floor.

Jin banished him to sitting at the kitchen counter and offering moral support that he readily did. Taehyung and Jin were in charge of  cooking breakfast and the cake for later. Hobi was in charge of setting up the games in the other rooms, while Jimin and Yoongi were in charge of party setup.

Jimin dressed a bit nicer than usual, wanting to look good for the youngest birthday so he wore black, loose fitted jeans without holes, a black belt, a white and black striped shirt, with a pink leather jacket. He blew dry his ash blond hair, leaving a part in the middle, and asked Jin to do his make up since the male had a affinity for it.

He felt decent enough.

Yoongi sighed, tearing his eyes away from the nice view of where Jimin’s ass was hanging above him- which was pleased to discovered seemed full and quite shapely and on display, as he bent down to gather the purple streamer.

“Why did they put the two shortest people on fucking setup? What logic was behind this? You’re gonna fucking fall of this couch and land on that ass,” Yoongi grumbled, watching as Jimin reached behind him to grab the streamer without glancing backwards and his legs shook from the unevenness of the cushions.

Jimin huffed a bit, blowing a lock of his hair from his eyes as he shrugged and glanced behind him with a smirk. “After the way you have been staring at me, I don’t see why you’re complaining, Honey Bunches.”

Yoongi coughed, blinking a bit because, okay, maybe he was trying to be discreet in the fact he was checking out his ass, but he guessed he failed since Jiming turned to look down at Yoongi over his shoulder.

There was absolutely nothing innocent about the look on Jimin’s face. His dark eyes were twinkling with mirth, mouth curved upwards in the tiniest of smirks, and Yoongi swore he saw little devil horns peeking out from from ash blond hair.

“Yeah fucking right. I was more like admiring the mess you made of the streamers,” Yoongi easily defended, lifting his gaze to stare at the ceiling were the streamers had tangled and looked a bit messy since Jimin couldn’t reach everything right.

Jimin flushed red, reverting back to the shy boy that Yoongi was much more use to, duck lips forming on the full pink lips of the younger as he looked back up at his work and his frown deepened. He looked utterly embarrassed.

“Oh… um, sorry…” he muttered and turned back to attempt and try and salvage his work. Yoongi sighed and shook his head, climbing onto the couch which made Jimin wobble a tad, but he easily regained his balance.

“It looks fine Jimin. Come on, let’s add a few more things to the room before bringing the presents out,” Yoongi urged, grabbing the ribbon from the younger's hand. Jimin wouldn’t look up to meet his gaze, ears a bright pink as he nodded mutely. Another smile curled his lip. “Are you ignoring me Kitten?”

“I am not a kitten,” Jimin deadpanned, slightly annoyed as he sighed and jumped down from the couch. He bent down to start gathering the ribbons. Yoongi watched him silently, wondering what happened to the conversation before Jimin suddenly straightened. “Hey, hyung, Hobi mentioned doing something today. What did he mean? Endplate Game.?”

“Oh, it’s a game,” Yoongi replied with a little smile. “We play it when we get the chance and since Jungkook loves to torture his hyung’s with it we thought it would be fun to just wind down and have some fun.”

Jimin blinked in surprise, brows raising at the explanation before glancing up the stairs where Jungkook was still hidden before back at Yoongi. “What kinda game is it? Do I even want to know? ‘Cause if Jungkook loves to torture his hyungs with it it sounds terrifying.”

“A chance game. Includes some pretty interesting punishments that we all made up and put into a pot- don’t worry Jin will come ask you for some later,” Yoongi reassured.

Jimin blinked, already not liking the sound of it, but it seemed to be fun so he would at least try it. It seemed like a good way to wind down. He just wished he had a bit more luck.  It could be good for everyone to have some bonding time since Joon hyung has been locked away and TaeTae just started coming back around.

A flash of relief dusted Jimin’s face. “A game to bring everyone together?” He asked, a note of hopefulness touching his voice as he searched Yoongi’s face. The other male nodded and Jimin broke out into a huge grin. That sounds amazing.

“Hey, you two, stop hanging around! Jungkook was thinking about finishing his shower!” Jin shouted from the kitchen. Jimin glanced towards the kitchen, shouting back he understood before looking back at Yoongi.

“It’s okay, hyung. I’ll grab the presents. You better go set the table,” he said. Yoongi nodded wordlessly, already turning towards the kitchen to obey the mother hen’s orders while Jimin rushed up the stairs to gather the presents.

Everyone was rushing around, Jin setting out the cake and the presents being put on the living room coffee table and smiles on everyone's faces. For a moment, this felt like a true home. The air was filled with jovial laughter and teases, excitement across this faces.

It was warm, accepting, and happy. The past few days haven’t happened. There was no Sparks, or fights, or training. There was only them, now, celebrating the birth of a family member. The stress of the days were faded, blotted out by the desire to just be here.

Namjoon was kissing Jin across his face, teasing him lightly and complementing his work on breakfast and cake and Jin looked ecstatic. He had a grin across his face, his mario shirt blaringly casual and his sweats easy.

It was good to see them together. Jimin could tell that Jin missed his husband, not having him around as much was hard, but seeing how his face was glowing at being basked in attention and love was worth it. Even Namjoon was looking better. Hair brushed and wearing actual clothes- which consisted over overalls and boots but whatever- and was grinning so much Jimin was worried his dimples would go even deeper like a trench in the ocean.

Looking at them now, it wasn’t hard for Jimin to know that Jin was the bottom and Namjoon took the top. Although he already had a feeling, watching the interaction merely solidified it.

Hobi was chasing Taehyung around, their laughter going through the entire house and Jimin could only stare in awe. This was what he wanted for Jihyun, for them. To have a family setting, a never ending stretch of happiness and fondness for each other.

Seeing how Yoongi was sitting at the dining room table, watching the others with a content look on his face and a lazy smile as he watched the mischief and the constant flirting from the married couple.

It felt so, so good.

“Jiminie! Help!” Tae squealed, nearly knocking into the smaller male as the Bridge charged past him. Jimin stumbled, a cry going through his lips when Tae suddenly grabbed his hand and dragged him with him.

“I’m gonna get you, Kim Taehyung! Park Jimin!” A squeal left Jimin as he darted behind Tae, dashing through the kitchen where JIn and Namjoon were lazily kissing against the counter. His legs were screaming in delight at finally being used in a way he knew, aching to start the movements ingrained in his body.

Tae was running ahead of him, cutting into the hallway and appearing out in the living room but Hobi flanked right and took a different hallway, easily leaping in front of him. Tae squealed again, skidding to a stop before changing directions on the dime.

Jimin laughed as he turned back around, making a move to run after Tae, but Hobi leaped forward and grabbed him around his waist, easily lifting him off the ground like he weighs very little while Jimin broke into laughter and kicked his legs.

“TaeTae! Help me!” He cried out, but Tae only waved as he hurried back into the kitchen, leaving Jimin to Hobi’s mercy as his fingers plagued his sides and armpits as he squealed and begged and laughed until tears ran down his cheeks.

“I’ll save you, midget!” Jungkook called, suddenly tackling Hobi. Hobi laughed as the younger pulled him off and pinned him down while Jimin scrambled to his feet, clutching his aching stomach while he stumbled and fell back to the ground.

“I’m… still… your… hyung!” Jimin bit out between laboured breaths, lifting his head to see Hobi and Jungkook play wrestling around the floor, Hobi beaming and Jungkook cackling. Jungkook glanced up at the words and gave the bunny smile.

“I’m 16 and taller than you. Sorry Jiminie,” Jungkook replied cheekily. Jimin huffed and pushed himself up as he shot him the finger that made Hobi burst back into laughter as he gave in to the wrestling and letting the younger win. “Someone is bitter. Must be a short temper.”

“Little shit,” Jimin mumbled, rolling his eyes, but there was no hostility behind his tone as they got to their feet, play time over.

“Ok, children, play fight is over. Get in here and eat some breakfast before it’s cold.” Everyone looked up at Jin’s voice before scrambling to their feet, shoving each other playfully to try and reach the food before everyone else as they scurried into the kitchen.

“The Maknaes are here,” Yoongi deadpanned as Jimin fell into the dining room, landing with a grunt on the floor. Hobi shouted a peeved ‘hey’ that went ignored by the white haired male as Jungkook helped Jimin up.

The table was set with the usual plates and chopsticks, and silverware. Lamb skewers were placed neatly in the middle, their scent of meat and spices tangling with Korean Fried Chicken and for dessert Jeolpyeon.

A birthday cake sat in the very middle. It was simple white frosted chocolate cake with the words ‘Happy Birthday Jungkookie!’ written in slightly messy Hangul. The candles were small and red and already lit as they blew with the excitement in the room Everything looked so nice, and Jungkook could only stare in awe at it.

Everyone gathered around the table, Jin lifting the cake with a grin so that it was in front of Jungkook who was grinning widely.

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Jungkookie, happy birthday to you,” they started singing lightly, breaking out into laughter as Tae suddenly leaned over and blew out all the candles before Jungkook could.

Jimin sniggered as Jungkook just smiled fondly while Tae preened, Jin rolling his eyes at the seemingly tradition in this house as they all settled in the chairs to eat. Jungkook ravaged at the lamb skewers, the conversation light and usually quiet by the sounds of Jin’s moans of appreciation and Jungkook teasing.

By the time the meal was over, everyone was on kitchen duty to help clean everything up. Tae was packing the food, Yoongi and Jimin on washing and drying, Namjoon once again on moral support duty while Hobi ran to set up for the Endplate game.

“Can I sit down now?” Yoongi asked, trailing behind the small group as they headed into the living room. Tae giggled and threw his arms around Yoongi, giving him a tight back hug while his face scrunched in disgust at the hug.

“Come on, hyung! We are playing the Endplate game!” He called happily. Yoongi shrugged the younger off, rolling his eyes tiredly as Hobi finished pushing the coffee table away and placing seven pillows in a circle around a deck of large cards.

Jungkook bounced over, taking Tae’s hand as they settled onto the two thin sitting pillows. Tae was beaming as Jungkook pulled him into his lap, easily wrapping his arms around Tae’s waist and letting the older settle in his lap, leaning against his chest.

Namjoon took a seat at the head, on the black sitting pillow, and Jin placed himself next to him, shoulder leaning against his husbands and Namjoon entwined their hands. Jin blushed a bit but smiled at him.

Yoongi rolled his eyes, making a gagging noise before settling himself on the mat next to Hobi and Jimin. Namjoon glanced around, squeezing Jin’s hand before pausing.

“Alright, did everyone put a punishment in the box?” Nods went through the room before another smile crossed Namjoon’s face. “Alright, now to describe the rules for Jiminie-ah. The Endplate Game is simple chance game. There is a stack of cards with six cards. Five them say safe- the last one is a skull. We will draw for who will be the King, who is the referee and does not play but will pass out the punishments. Jimin, do you understand so far?”

Jimin nodded, face scrunched in concentration as he looked at the cards in the middle, putting the pieces together. Jin smiled at him while the rest exchanged smirks. Jungkook was all but bouncing with excitement while Yoongi looked weary.

“This game is purely chance. Each round the King will shuffle the cards and pass them back out. Then we flip it over. Whoever has the skull, receives the punishment,” Namjoon finished. A pit of nervousness tugged at Jimin’s gut from where he nodded slowly. He has never had much luck and basing on what he put into the punishment box… he wasn’t sure he wanted to get that skull.

Jungkook was smirking, turning his gaze to Yoongi who looked like he rather bury himself in the backyard and never re emerge from his dirt grave. “You ready for this, Triple Crowner?” Kookie teased. Yoongi flashed him the finger, scowling heavily.

Jimin’s brow furrowed, confusion causing his head to tilt to the side like a puppy. Jin bit back a smile at the cute face he was making. “Yoongi has some of the worst luck in the group and once got the skull three times in a row, so his nickname is the Triple Crown when it comes to Endplate game.”

“Fuck you. I hate all you fuckers. Let’s get this shit over with,” Yoongi sighed, reaching over to grab a card and sit back with a roll of his eyes. Jungkook cackled again as Jimin offered Yoongi a eye smile, knowing he was in the same boat.

“Well, let’s see who the the King for this round,” Namjoon spoke up, handing out the rest of the cards to everyone. Jimin took his wearily, smiling a bit at Yoongi who sat back on his forearms as everyone put their cards in the middle. “Turn over.”

Chaos enthused. Shouts and cries went through the room as everyone threw in their cards while Namjoon preened, holding up the card with a crown. Tae clucked his tongue, forming duck lips as he rolled his eyes.

“I was hoping to finally be King again!”

“Tae-ah, you were King twice! I have never been King,” Hobi interjected as Namjoon produced a small Burger King crown and placed it on his head with a grin. Jin was laughing his windshield wiper laughing, and JImin couldn’t help but laugh too.

Jin’s laugh really did sound like a dying windshield wiper- which was almost as bad as his dad jokes that he likes to tell all throughout their lessons together or anytime Jimin in the room since he actually seems to find them amusing, but really it’s just Jin’s laugh.

It’s contagious.

“This is already turning out bad- I already got the skull,” Yoongi groaned, relieved that luckily this is the before round and he won’t get punished. Jimin was using his hand to block his laugh, feeling a bit self conscious at the laughter he was spilling.

“Poor Yoongi,” Jungkook chuckled. Yoongi flashed the finger again, ignoring Jin’s warning glance as they all turned their cards back in and Jimin managed to lift himself off the ground as his laughter died away and the real game began.

Namjoon pulled the small cardboard box filled with little slips, Jungkook and Tae adding a drum roll for dramatic effect as the Knowledge Seeker pulled out a slip of paper and set the box back down. Everyone glanced at each other, wondering what the punishment was for the first round and who wrote it.

Jimin bit his lip absently as worry gnawed at his insides for what the punishment could be as Namjoon opened the paper and began to read the neatly written Hangul across the paper. Namjoon’s brow furrowed before he bit back a smile.

“The punishment is to drink a concoction created by the members- have to drink it all.” A chorus of groans followed while Jin just smirked lazily, instantly alerting everyone of who the writer is. Yoongi sighed.

“Not this shit again. The last time it was me and that green shit was awful,” he moaned. Jin only shrugged innocently, but the smile on his face was anything but innocent. The male may be the ‘mother hen’ of the house, but when it came to messing with the other members he was about as bad as the youngest.

“This outta be good. Let’s see who's unlucky this time around,” Hobi spoke up as the cards were passed around. Yoongi rolled his eyes, catching Jimin’s for a second. Butterflies fluttered within his gut when the white haired male offered a small smile before turning back to focus on the game.

Jimin turned away, wondering why the small moment meant so much to him, but the butterflies still fluttered a bit and he hated it. There was no way, no possibility that Jimin was starting to like him. Not one. He couldn’t do this again.

It wasn’t a crush, just nerves about the game. Nerves because it was Min Yoongi and the man is intimidating. There was no reason to get worked up over anything. Hobi looked up as Jimin breathed out slowly, calming himself a it, before looking up to meet his knowing eyes.

“Turn.” Cards flipped over as Jimin broke the contact and screeched in horror as his face washed pale at the sight of the skull, it’s laughter mocking him within his mind as the members burst into chaotic laughter.

Jimin took this time to sink himself to the floor, tossing the card towards Jungkook who’s cackle was joining the skull’s laughter. Jin stood quickly, grabbing Jungkook’s hand as they darted into the kitchen.

Hobi clucked his tongue in sympathy. “Look at that, Yoons. Seems you have someone else is as unlucky as you are,” he joked. Yoongi rolled his eyes and shrugged, relief palpable on his face as he glanced down at the horrified Jimin.

“It’s doggy dog. As long as it ain’t me,” he replied simply. Jimin lifted his head, sending a little glare towards the white haired male while Tae crawled over and fluffed his blond hair affectionately. Jimin put his head on Tae’s lap, staring up at his handsome, contented face.

“TaeTae-ah, it was nice knowing you. I am proud to call you my best friend. I’m gonna miss you,” Jimin sighed, closing his eyes. Tae giggled and ruffled his hair more as he waved his hand, not looking too worried.

“I love you too, Chim Chim.”

“Drama Queen,” Yoongi huffed from his position. Tae raised his brow, a sly smirk crossing his lips as he pulled away from Jimin to inch closer to Yoongi who shot him a peeved glare.

“Says the man who was crying when he was eating that pickled egg with horse radish,” Tae countered. Jimin already felt sick at the mere thought of eating something as disgusting as that. His face scrunched at the image while Yoongi flushed.

“Whatever. Piss off, alien.” Tae giggled but sat back to rejoin Jimin by his side just as the dynamic duo reappeared. Jungkook was grinning from ear to ear, nose scrunched to reveal his bunny features while Jin was giggling, almost going into full windsheild wiper mode.

Jin was carrying a small glass of what looked like white mush that was slightly discolored, Hobi whistling under his breathe as he shook his head and mumbled a ‘savage’ under his breathe. Jimin shot him a disbelieving look.

“Now, drink, Jiminie!” Jungkook ordered, plopping himself back onto the pillow where Tae returned to his rightful place. Jin passed Jimin the foul smelling drink, causing his stomach to turn and terror to grip at his muscles.

“Can’t we talk this over?” Jimin murmured, eyes growing wider as he looked back up, flickering from person to person in hopes to find someone to help him. He even jutted out his lower lip in a pout as he blinked. “Please?’

“Did you just aegyo?” Namjoon asked, a smile crossing his face as he looked at the Empower. Jimin smiled, offering his eyes smile and fluttering his eyes a bit in a way that always worked on Baekhee, but Namjoon just huffed. “Classy. Drink your punishment.”

“I will give him points for trying,” Jin piped up. “Plus, that was adorable.” Jimin moaned quietly, deflating as he glanced back at the ‘drink’ in his hand and made a face. Finally, swearing under his breathe, he grabbed his nose and took a long swing.

First, Jimin would love to scream because the thing tasted fucking disgusting. It stuck to the roof his mouth, stung his tastebuds, and caused tears to spring to his eyes because it just tasted fucking gross. Sour, too sweet and yet not enough to mask the bitter taste hidden throughout.

When he drank the whole thing, he pushed the cup away from him, holding his mouth as he continued to make a disgusted face. Yoongi shot him a look of sympathy, almost reaching out to sooth him but thought better of it and kept his arms glued to his sides as the younger laid across the floor, letting out disgusted moans.

“This… game… is savage,” was all Jimin said. Jungkook laughed a bit, nodding his head. Tae was smiling, licking his lips as Jungkook trailed his fingers lightly over tae’s thigh from where he was positioned back on his lap.

“Yes it is. But it’s one reason we like to play it. It’s unpredictable and it gives us a chance to let off some steam. Other than training,” Namjoon piped up, taking Jin’s hand and lifting it to place a soft kiss on the back. Hobi nodded.

“Also, we are seven guys that all in the same house. Things are bound to get rowdy so we keep it controlled by getting our revenge out in this game,” he added with a shrug. The Empower mulled it over, lifting his head meekly to nod before letting it drop back down as Namjoon passed the cards back out.

“Round 2.” jimin pushed himself to sitting position, shuffling his body closer to Tae, laying his head against his lap. Tae welcomed the affection, instantly putting his fingers in Jimin’s hair and smiling. Jungkook looked at Jimin and patted his head. Jimin made a swat for him before grabbing his card. “And the punishment is…” he paused. “Having your teeth brushed with wasabi.”

“Oh come on,” Yoongi groaned, shaking his head at the mere idea. Hobi bit back a smile, looking at the ground. It was one of his ideas and honestly, it seemed like a good one. The others emotions  were hilarious to be feeling.

“Well, that will really help my cocktail go down, now won’t it?” Jimin snarked, sitting himself up to rolled his eyes and pout again.  Jungkook snickered at the words while Yoongi shot him a bemused glance before Namjoon quieted them and called it.

Everyone turned their cards over and Jimin was flooded with relief. He tossed his card away, grinning. Yoongi was about to get up and start dancing as he too, threw his safe card in the middle. Jin, however, looked stunned.

Namjoon winced, eyeing the skull card. “I think I will save kissing you for later,” he said quietly. Jin’s eyes narrowed to slits as Jungkook laughed so hard, he fell backwards. Tae was giggling while JImin flung himself into Tae’s lap to his face as he laughed.

“Or no kisses at all,” Jin rebuked easily as he stood and walked to the middle, awaiting his punishment. Tae was the first to stand, a wicked look across his face as he ran up the stairs to return with Jin’s toothbrush and then back to the kitchen to grab the wasabi paste.

“Ready Eomma?” He asked, holding up the toothbrush covered in wasabi. Jin blinked at it, eyes becoming wide as he eyed the dusty grey haired with a pleading expression. Tae only put the brush on his teeth, tongue sticking out in delight as he scrubbed.

Jin was making strange noises as Tae worked, eyes watering and pleading towards Tae with a look of desperation and begging. Tae only beamed wider as he worked a bit harder, purposely hitting Jin’s tongue with the green spicy paste.

Jimin has quickly learned that Tae takes this game very seriously. He made a mental note to never let Tae administer his punishment because the boy looked delighted while Jin was about to collapse and was still begging the younger with his eyes for mercy that didn’t seem to be in the Bridge’s vocabulary.

Finally, Tae pulled away and winked at Jin. “That’s for all those times making me get out of bed to brush my teeth, hyung.”

“I helped… raise you… how could you?” Jin moaned, grabbing a napkin to spit green across the white parchment. Yoongi was laughing, gummy smile on display as he nodded his head eagerly.

“Payback is a bitch, Jinie hyung.” More laughter broke out at Jin’s betrayed look while Yoongi flashed a sweet smile. For a moment, Jimin actually wondered if this was the real Yoongi. He looked so open, and carefree. His gummy smile was on display and he seemed to be enjoying himself.

He didn’t seem like the asshole he usually wash and it stunned Jimin for a moment. It always seemed that at the most unexpected times, the man next to him would surprise him by being a good person, or by opening up and helping others unexpectedly.

When Jimin had a panic attack, he was there. When Jin needed help he was there. Forgiving Jungkook despite the younger was in the wrong almost instantly. It was astounding and it made him wonder why the male was so dead set on pretending he wasn’t a good person.

“Okay, round 3.” Everyone turned towards the leader as he passed out the cards again, each waiting with bated breathe for him to pull another slip of paper and tell of one of the members doom. Jimin eyed it wearily, praying that it wouldn’t be him. “The punishment is… to have to cuddle with a animal they are afraid of until the next round.”

“Taehyung!” Five members shouted, terror clutching their faces. Tae jumped, shaking his head quickly as he waved his hands in defense in front of him. Jimin really, really, really did not want to cuddle with a spider or alligator, or anything really.

“I didn’t write that!” Tae defended. Yoongi had a small smirk crossing his lips as he raised his hand briefly.

“He didn’t write it. I did. Payback for waking up with mokey’s all over me for whoever gets it,” Yoongi announced. Jin sighed, rubbing his temples as Namjoon looked thoughtful. Yoongi only shrugged as Tae rolled his eyes. Even Jungkook looked a bit nervous while Hobi was muttering a prayer under his breathe. “Let the games begin.”

“You are a horrible person, hyung,” Jungkook commented.

“Says you. You have very little room to talk, Kookie-ah.” Jungkook shrugged but didn’t disagree as they all flipped their cards over. Hobi screeched in terror as he saw the skull, damning him to his worst fear. Yoongi clucked his tongue. “That is very unfortunate. Tae, he is terrified of snakes.”

“Fuck me,” Hobi muttered in horror. Tae shot him a sympathetic glance as he stood and headed for the backyard. Yoongi was covering his mouth with his hand as the male mumbled to himself. “It’s just a snake. Just a snake. It will fine. Just a little snake. I can do this.”

“Suddenly wasabi doesn’t seem so bad,” Jin commented, watching Hobi with a concerned motherly glance in the male’s direction. Namjoon snorted next to him,

“You aren’t the one who is sitting next to someone with breath that reeks of it,” Namjoon argued lightly. Jin hissed between his teeth, turning on a dime to blow air directly into Namjoon’s face that caused him to cough and sputter. Jimin beamed.

“Savage.”

“I know the feel Joon-ah. This midget’s breathe is fucking disgusting,” Yoongi spoke up, gesturing vaguely towards Jimin whose smile slipped from his face as annoyance caused his eyebrow to arch and a eyes to narrow on the white haired male in challenge. “To make it worse he laughs a lot and it’s just waves of it.”

“Oh really?” Jimin said in a silky voice. Yoongi turned his deadpan gaze towards the smaller with a raised brow while Jimin lunged and tackled Yoongi to the ground, barely catching his wrists and pinning his arms down so he can blow his breath all across his face.

Yoongi’s eyes widened before he started thrashing, but Jimin had straddled Yoongi and squeezed his thick thighs tightly around his waist and successfully holding him down as he attacked the older with hsi breathe.

Yoongi was swearing a mile a minute while Jin was just cackling, Hobi was watching with wide eyes, and Jungkook all but lost it as Jimin finally jumped back and released the elder to freedom.

“I swear to fucking god, Park Jimin, I am going to kill you!” Yoongi seethed, pushing himself to his feet as Jimin squealed and bounced away. He offered a eye smile over his shoulder as he bowed.

“You’re gonna have to catch me, hyung, to kill me,” Jimin replied smoothly. “And after years of dancing and working my body, I can run pretty fast. How fast can you run, hyung?” Yoongi rolled his eyes, glaring harshly before he tutted and turned away while Jin and Namjoon giggled to themselves, enjoying the exchange.

“Just you wait, Park Jimin. I will get my revenge.”

“I’ll be waiting then,” he countered. Yoongi huffed under his breathe as Tae returned with a huge Asian Keelback snake wrapped around his right arm like a koala rather than a snake. Tae didn’t look bothered in the least as he came and sat near Hobi, whispering gently to the snake as it began to unravel itself.

Hobi was almost screeching again as it slid onto his lap and settled there like a dog would while Hobi learned how to become a statue as little noises squeaked through his windpipe. Jimin wasn’t sure the noises were Korean, English, or Japanese.

Jimin was worried that the poor Empath was gonna pass out, but somehow remained upright as Namjoon watched wearily before passing out the cards again. Hobi made no move to grab his, so Jimin easily took it and smiled reassuringly at the traumatized boy.

“Round 4’s punishment is….” Namjoon pulled up the slip and nearly choked. His eyes widened as he read it once more before he shook his head and made a move to put the paper back but Jin stopped him.

“What? Let me see,” Jin said before reading the Hangul. His face changed from thoughtful to amused to horrified as he started to laugh again, tossing the paper back to Namjoon and pinned his eyes to Hobi. “I know you wrote that.”

Hobi didn’t even react, to busy trying to not squirm or run away. Yoongi seemed to be getting impatient as he waved his hand in a silent way of telling them to get on with it.  Namjoon flushed a bit before clearing his throat.

“To do an entire sexy girl dance. Very sexy.” Jimin blinked a couple of times before flushing and wondering why was this even a game. Was there any possible chance he could back out soon because he wanted to die.

There was no possible way he was about to go do a sexy girl dance in front of Yoongi. Fuck it, he wasn’t about to do it in front of anyone. Everyone just sighed, except Jungkook who seemed indifferent, before turning over the cards.

Jimin was very pleased to know he or Hobi got the skull card. Instead it was Yoongi, who liked like he bit into the most sour lime and then smelled a skunk rolling in the trash.  His mouth pinched and he tossed the card away with a groan.

“You have got to be kidding.”

“This is about to get good,” Jungkook snickered. Tae snuggled further in his lap as the younger placed little kisses to the crown of his head as the snake finally slithered out of Hobi’s lap and made it’s way for the backdoor that was open a crack.

Hobi sagged against the pillow, mumbling ‘I hate snakeu’ a few times under his breathe as Tae patted his head a few times to offer comfort. The empath only closed his eyes and willed the fear away before pushing himself up to lean against Tae and Jungkook, who didn’t seem to mind in the least as they threw there arm around him and pulled him a bit closer.

It made Jimin’s heart melt, the content that was around the room like a warm blanket, filling their chests with a feeling of satisfaction. Jimin felt like he was flying, despite the game that caused horror and delight in a very interesting cocktail.

He could see why the youngest would love this game. Despite everything, he loved it too. In many ways it was very relaxing. Yeah, he wasn’t sure where the logic was in that one either but it was there.

“I don’t dance,” Yoongi stated blandly, turning his eyes to Jin. The eldest merely shrugged and reached behind to hit the stereo. The white haired male sent him a unimpressed look as he unfurled himself from sitting position as Jungkook sent cat calls and whistles. “I fucking hate this brat.”

“Love you too, hyung,” Jungkook said cheekily, while the others laughed. Jimin used his hand to cover his laughter again as fast paced female k-pop music flooded the speakers. Jimin was sure it was Black Pink or some other group but he wasn’t sure.

Yoongi gave the room a dry look before he broke out into the cheesiest grin, showing off his gums, as he began to shake his ass and dip low to go with the music. He kept his gaze on Jimin, who had a feeling this was payback for the other day as Yoongi licked his lips,  rolled his hips lazily. Cat calls and hollers ran through the room, laughter and clapping urging Yoongi on.

Jimin was laughing so hard his gut hurt, watching as Yoongi tried to dance sexy and pretty much failed. He looked more like a fluffy marshmallow than anything. He was moving his hips and attempting to grind but he still only looked cute. But the butterflies in his stomach never faded, instead only grew to restless birds.

When the song ended, none of the room could breathe from laughing so hard as Yoongi finished with flipping them all off with a sickly sweet smile to his features and winking, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

That only sent Jungkook further into hysterics as Tae and Hobi fell out of his lap. Jin was being a dying windshield wiper while Namjoon was a mix between spongebob and choking on saliva.

With another huff, Yoongi plopped himself back down and sent a glare around the room that did nothing to silence while Jungkook wiped a tear from his eye. “That was beautiful. Fear the great Min Yoongi, stripper extraordinary of girl group dancing.”

“If you’re missing a couple of limbs tonight, it’s not my fault,” Yoongi stated without missing a beat. Jungkook shrugged, still giving his wicked bunny smile. Tae gave his boxy smile and nodded his agreement, clapping lightly.

“Wonderful, hyung.”

“Shut it, alien.”

“Feeling loved here,” Tae whined. Yoongi rolled his eyes and looked at Namjoon who was also biting back laughter from the performance. Yoongi’s eyes narrowed further.

“Next round.” Namjoon shrugged and obeyed, shuffling the cards and passing them back out before reaching for the slips. Yoongi settled back down as Jimin glanced over at him, giving a eye smile.

“I thought the dance was great, hyung,” Jimin offered. Yoongi opened his mouth to retort but seemed to notice that Jimin was being sincere so instead only gave a small smile back before turning his attention to the carpet. If Jimin didn’t know any better he would say that Yoongi had a light blush to his cheeks.

“Okay, round 5. The punishment is getting hit on the ass with a bat six times. Okay, now listen here, I know you wrote this. Jin, cause you added ‘batter up’ on it,” Namjoon said, turning to his husband with raised brows. Jin shrugged innocently, batting his eyes gently.

“Who me?”

“Yes you,” Namjoon added with a roll to his eyes before he sighed and looked at the others who didn’t seem surprised. After glancing at each of them, he nodded and they flipped their cards over.

“You know, karma is certainly a bitch,” Yoongi commented first, taking in the skull card that decorated Jin’s hand. The mother hen’s eyes were like saucers as he stared at the card that gave him his own punishment as he looked back at the others. “Ain’t that unfortunate.”

Jin shot him a look, but obeyed without a word, though he definitely didn’t look happy about it. He laid his body across the carpet, pressing his forehead against the carpet in a last attempt for sanctuary as Namjoon took a step back, shaking his head as he watched.

Hobi easily produced a wooden bat, passing it off to the youngest who was the first to step up. Jin groaned lowly in his throat, realizing that all the youngers were going to have their time to enjoy this moment.

Jungkook was biting his lip in anticipation as he swung the bat around lazily, glancing Jin up and down while the smirk only grew. “Hyung,” he started, cackling a bit before gaining control and hovering the bat in the air. “This is for all the times you ordered me around and pulled the ‘hyung’ card.”

“But I am your-” Jin didn’t finish as he let out a cry when the bat came down and hit him smack across the ass. Pain laced up his ass and into his spine as the younger’s amused thoughts flooded his mind. Jin lowered himself back to the ground. “Still… your… hyung.”

“Your old.”
“I’m 23! One day you’re gonna wake up and be 23 and then who is gonna be old then because you are going to look back at his day and go ‘oh hyung wasn’t old he was just experienced’ and I am going to sit back and laugh because you will have finally learned the truth!” Jin sputtered, cursing his stutter as the others burst into laughter at his little ‘failed’ rant.

“Sure, whatever you say,” Jungkook snickered, passing the bat to Hobi. Jin sighed and lowered himself back down, casting glances at his husband but it was futile. The Knowledge Seeker could only watch.

“Hyung, this is for stealing my food,” Hobi stated. Jin moved to reply but the younger did give a chance as the bat came down again. JIn hissed through his teeth, more pain running up his spine and he vaguely wondered what kinda bat they were using.

Taehyung was next. Jin groaned, but allowed the other to vent out his frustrations. “Hyung, you never listen to me and you always leave your laundry in a bad place. Does the floor look like a basket to you?”

“Now, hold on, that isn’t me that is Namjoon. He is the one who doesn’t know a laundry basket from a floor, not me,” Jin defended. Namjoon looked offended as he cast a betrayed look at his husband. Jin shrugged. “What? I am only speaking the truth, baby.”

Tae hit him. Jin cried out cause it was the hardest hit yet as he leapt to his feet, making a move to grab Tae but the Bridge had scrambled away to hide behind Jungkook who was back to cackling.

Yoongi pulled him back down and clucked his tongue, glancing at Jimin. “You’re turn.”

“Do I have to?”

“You are my new favorite child,” Jin spoke up. Yoongi rolled his eyes at the eldest, patting his head as he looked back at Jimin. A smile smile was on the Empower’s face, watching the exchange from his place on the floor.

He had no true quarrel with Jin, and he was enjoying the fact that even though they were hitting him, there was no hostility or even true anger. If anything it was just them goofing off in a very odd way.

“I mean, no? You don’t have to, but I would take this chance if I was you,” Yoongi replied, gesturing back down towards Jin’s ass. Jimin was sure he wouldn’t be able to sit normally for a week. Jin looked perturbed.

“It’s okay, hyung. You can take my swing, if you like.” Jimin smiled brightly. Jin’s head jerked back up, a flash of betrayal across his features as he looked at Jimin helplessly.

“You are no longer my favorite child,” Jin huffed. Jimin gave a half smile and shrugged as Yoongi glanced him over again. Jimin met his gaze evenly before the older took the bat and did two swings consecutively.

The others were laughing as Jin got to his feet, holding his ass with a pain filled expression before waddling back over to Namjoon’s side. The other greeted his husband with  kiss of praise across his brow before settling the others.

“Round 6,” he announced, passing out the cards. Jimin breathed out slowly, really hoping his random streak of luck held out for the last two rounds as Namjoon grabbed the punishment slip. “And the punishment is… two members will have to kiss. Alright, who wrote this?”

No one spoke up. Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“Right. Okay, so it looks like we will have to draw twice. This is will be the first round for the first punished.” Everyone nodded and put their cards in the middle, flipping it over to reveal the one and only Hobi.

“Oh man,” he groaned but put the card back. Everyone else gathered around and they repeated the process. What they weren’t expecting was for Taehyung to get the skull. The dusty grey haired went wide eyed as he looked at Jungkook who seemed a bit put off by the idea. Hobi didn’t look much better.

“Punishment is punishment,” Namjoon said, reading their expressions easily. Jungkook tightened his hold around Taehyung, who was flushing and unable to look at Hobi who was staring absently at nothing.

Jin’s expression turned from unsurety to surprise and then disbelief as he stared at Hobi before turning to Namjoon. “Joonie, maybe-”

“No, a punishment is a punishment,” Tae mumbled, gently nudging Jungkook away. Jin bit his lip, casting another glance towards Hobi who shrugged but stared down at his feet. Jimin felt his brow furrow. It didn’t seem like a big deal- Tae mentioned once that many of them had kissed accidently when playing around or drunk off their rocker.

So why was this different? Why did Hobi seem like he wanted to be anywhere else but here? He didn’t really understand. Jin seemed to know something, but he wasn’t sharing and he doubted that he would.

Tae turned to Jungkook, dark eyes searching the younger’s face as he pressed a quick kiss to his nose before clambering out of his lap to face Hobi. Hobi kept his eyes pinned to the ground, not looking up to see Taehyung.

“Just a quick kiss, right?” Tas asked, looking back over at the leader for confirmation. Namjoon nodded, glancing between the two. Tae looked back at Hobi and smiled. “It won’t be so bad, right? Just like the night we first got drunk together, right? A easy kiss. Meaningless.”

Hobi smiled, bright as usual, but Jimin knew otherwise. He could see how his orbs darkened as Tae leaned forward and connected their lips for two seconds before backing up and letting Jungkook ravage his lips much more forcefully.

Jin cleared his throat as he nudged Namjoon, who went straight into action as he gave a smile, breaking the quiet spell over the group. He passed out the cards and then grinned at the group.

“This is the last round and will have the most extreme punishment. Because of this, I had three of you choose extreme punishments and I already know which to use. The punishment is to wear a dress and dance around in it for the whole day,” he announced, smirking. Chaos enthused,

“No fucking way. No goddamn way. I swear, Kim Namjoon, if I end up in a dress I will reflect your fears so hard you will be a mess of tears for days,” Yoongi hissed, eyes like slits on the leader. Namjoon didn’t seem to bothered by the prospect.

“I don’t look good in dresses. This is not a good idea,” Hobi complained.

“Um, I protest this?” Jungkook spoke up, looking spooked by the mere idea of wearing a dress. Tae was just blinking like he couldn’t even imagine it. Jimin felt his whole body go stiff, terror making hi sback seem like a iron rod.

“No. No way,” he breathed, feeling a bit breathless. He should be use to it really. Back in freshman year of high school, Baek had an affinity for dressing Jimin in girl clothes for some insane reason, and at the time he didn’t truly mind.

He minded now. He definitely minded now. There was no way. He couldn’t do it. He was praying with every fiber of his being that he would be lucky just this once. Just. This. Once.

“This is a punishment game, guys. There is no debate on this, so suck it up,” Namjoon huffed, rolling his eyes. The room grumbled, pushing their cards to the middle as they glanced at each other. “Turn.” The room obeyed.

Who would have thought that suicide was back on the table? Maybe he could ask Tae to make a poisonous snake to come back and bite him or maybe ask Yoongi to make him have his mind be mush from fear or maybe have Hobi strangle him again.

Anything. Anything at all. Possibly head up to the bathroom and fill up the tub to drown himself or electrocute himself. EIther one worked at this point.

The skull was laughing. It’s nonexistent eyes staring him down as he glared helplessly at the card. He felt so betrayed as he slowly looked back up at the room to see slow smirks crossing all the faces around the room.

He wanted to run. But before he could even make the move to, arms grabbed his biceps and held him steady. “Shit, wait, no please!” He cried, thrashing as Jin and Jungkook held him hostage.

“Sorry, Jiminie,” Jin said, leading him up the stairs as the living room disappeared. Jin tightened his hold on Jimin’s arm, while the Empower desperately tried to get free, but Jungkook was just grinning excitedly/

“Eomma, can we dress him in pink?”
“Jungkook, I will kill you!” Jimin snarled, but Jungkook only winked. Jin was biting back a smile as they dragged him into Jin and Namjoon’s shared room. After the door was slammed shut, the two finally released him as they headed for the closest.

Jimin was looking around with wide eyes, his doom temporality forgotten as he got a look. The walls were a nice burgundy color, with white trim, and the ceiling also white. The bed was a queen sized, with matching comforter. Decorative pillows lined the bed, the dressers a dark cherry wood and a desk pushed to the corner. Pictures of their wedding was across the walls, and pictures of the members along the dresser.

The entire room smelled of vanilla and detergent, matching the motherly figure of the house perfectly. It was a nice room, matching the couple easily since books were also littered about the room in random bursts and a little bookshelf piled high with books- Namjoon’s.

Jimin instantly liked the room. It was simple and warm, remind him of what his parents was supposed to be like and it warmed him. He almost wished he could stay a bit longer. But instead he remembered why he was in here in the first place.

“Hyung, why do you even have girl dresses in your closet in the first place?” Jimin asked, trailing his small fingers over the dresser carefully, looking back over at the two who were pulling out three different dresses.

“Well, one belonged to another Spark that we know- she never wears it and just tossed it to us a joke,” Jin explained, holding up a black maid costume and shrugged. Jimin’s nose scrunched. He would never wanna wear that. “And the other was given to us by Taemin as a joke. Please don’t ask. And this one was for the Endplate game.”

Jimin wanted to, but then thought better of it, and remained silent as Jungkook turned holding a pink maid costume, a little white apron, and his doom written across Jungkook’s face. Jin was smiling as he plopped himself on the bed.

“Guys, this is not cool,” Jimin sighed, backing away slowly till his back hit the wall. Jin giggled, not seeming bothered. He wasn’t surprised, but still, he was hoping that they would offer some mercy.

“Sorry, Jiminie, but punishment is punishment. You drew the skull,” Jin reminded him, as if talking to petulant child. Sighing, he took the dress from Jungkook and stared them down, waiting for them to turn away. Jin caught the hint, probably reading his thoughts and closed his eyes and Jungkook turned away.

Jimin undressed quickly, feeling uncomfortable and burning. He hated this, but pulled on the dress quickly. It was itchy, and tight, and it fell about mid-thigh. It had little white ruffles on the end and around the white apron.

In short, he hated it.

“Holy shit, you look like a girl,” Jungkook blinked, staring wide eyed as Jimin turned to face them. Jimin huffed, shaking his head in disbelief as Jungkook looked him up and down. Jin blinked a couple of times.

“Whoa, that was unexpected. You look adorable,” Jin stated.

“Bite me,” Jimin hissed as he turned on his heel, throwing open the door. Jin and Jungkook followed behind as he went back down the stairs and ignored the cat calls and whistles courtesy of Jungkook and now Taehyung.

Jimin refused to look over at Yoongi, plopping himself back in his place as his skirt flared out. He felt incredibly awkward as the others complimented him, even messing with his hair. Tae was grinning, teasing him.

“With his little chubby cheeks, he looks so precious!” Hobi gushed, smiling brightly. Namjoon was using his hand to cover his mouth as Jin curled into his lap, preening at the attention his baby was receiving while Jimin sat there with a pout.

A part of him was flourishing under the attention, but he still hated the dress with every fiber of his being as his cheeks burned bright red and he kept his eyes locked on the carpet, just letting Tae fuss over him while Jungkook cackled and the others messed with his skirt.

“I’m actually surprised, you look good, kid,” Yoongi spoke up finally, drawing people’s attention with the soft, yet gravelly voice of the white haired male. Jimin’s eyes darted up before he could stop himself, meeting the dark unreadable orbs.

Jimin couldn’t read the older’s expression. It was carefully blank, neutral, and he hated it. He wanted to be able to read him, but the Reflector seemed to be able to master the art of keeping his thoughts a secret.

“Are you saying I look ugly the rest of the time, hyung?” Jimin retorted, raising his eyebrows as he feigned hurt. Yoongi huffed and rolled his eyes, but didn’t answer except for the small smile that was quirking at his lips.

“Such a brat.”

“You just can’t handle the fact I can handle your shit.” Jungkook snickered, watching the exchange with intrigued eyes when the phone rang. Eyes darted towards the ring coming from Namjoon’s pocket as he quickly answered.

“Namjoon,” he said into the phone. The room waited with bated breath as his eyes widened a bit, brow furrowing in thought as he glanced about the room, pausing on Jimin, and spoke. “I have a new member of the Bangtan Faction of Busan. Rank 5, Combat, Empower. I wasn’t expecting this so soon.”

Jin looked taken aback, easily reading his husband’s thought but said nothing as his hand tightened around Namjoon’s free hand, looking a bit uneasy. Hobi tilted his head to the side, eyes watching his leader.

Yoongi just looked bored.

“But I don’t think that sending him this soon would be a good idea. And holding a match when things are starting to get dangerous seems to be a bad idea to me, I don’t know if-” Namjoon fell quiet, the voice on the phone raising a bit. Frustration clouded Namjoon’s face. “A Spark Ring doesn’t need Bangtan to function, sir. I don’t think that this-” He fell quiet again, biting his lip to keep himself from speaking.

Yoongi suddenly came on to alert, eyes flying open as he narrowed his gaze on the phone, Jin looking enraged as he clutched Namjoon’s hand a bit tighter but the male didn’t seem to mind. Tae became quiet, slipping a bit behind Jungkook who inched closer to Hobi.

“Sir, the Empower is unpredictable and with him being targeted by Iron Clad sending him into a match with other Sparks is dangerous! Bang-nim doesn’t even want him there yet-” Namjoon was cut off again, the frustration growing to anger as he sighed, shaking his head. “That’s a good point, sir, but he doesn’t know this world yet.”

Jin watched wearily, eyes on the phone but the anger from earlier was slowly vanishing as Namjoon bit his lip, looking conflicted as he kept his gaze locked on Jimin, who felt his stomach twist and his heart drop into his stomach.

“Joonie… he has a point… this would be good for him. He needs to learn some time,” Jin whispered, rubbing his hand gently up his thigh to try and relax him, and it slowly worked as Namjoon glanced at his husband, and then back at Jimin.

Jimin didn’t understand what was happening, but he rarely did. He could sense the urgency, the importance, and knew that whatever was happening was big, but Namjoon was worried. Worried for him. It made guilt churn within his gut to mix with shame.

He was back to being a burden and he didn’t want that. He stayed to learn. To learn to fight, and defend himself and gain control. He couldn’t keep putting it off. If whatever they were talking about was important, he would at least try.

“Joon hyung, it’s okay,” Jimin mumbled, offering a little smile so he would know it was alright, that he was okay. Namjoon deflated, seeming to be a bit relieved as he nodded, turning his focus back to the phone.

“Alright, the match is on. We will be there.” Namjoon closed the phone and blew out a breathe. Yoongi shook his head, already seeming to the read the conversation.

“Let me guess. The Head Asshole-”

“Min Yoongi!” Jin hissed, but Yoongi merely ignored him without even a blink in his direction.

“-Called about the Spark Ring and demanded that we be there to show off the new member and basically just show off even though he can’t even shoot a gun yet, nor officially use his power properly without blowing anything up, or the fact he can barely standing fighting against the youngest here.”

“I am sitting, like, right here?” Jimin deadpanned, brow ticking in irritation. Yoongi merely shrugged like the fact didn’t bother him as Tae patted his back in sympathy.

“It’s the Head, Yoongi,” Namjoon said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Jin kissed his temple, running his fingers through his hair carefully.

“The real question is why the Head cares. Faction Leaders usually have the authority to decide whether they wish to go to the Spark Ring or not,” Hobi spoke up, a frown coating his face as he met the leader’s gaze. “Why does he suddenly give a shit?”

“Desperation,” Tae supplied quietly. The room lapsed back into tense quiet. Tae sighed, closing his eyes. “They are getting desperate. More and more Factions are falling, Spark’s dying, and Iron Clad a step closer. They can’t make a move anyway until the Ring of Maces is down anyway.”

“An Empower would draw attention,” Jungkook added. “Like I did. Bangtan is one of the top Factions. And with a Empower? Me? Yoongi? The Head wants us top shape. It’s getting closer, hyung.”

Namjoon looked crestfallen, fear mixing in his eyes as he looked around the room. Jimin hated the fact he felt lost, he felt like he didn't belong because he didn’t understand but now wasn’t the time to ask. Now was the time to listen.

“Things have been too quiet, Joon,” Jin whispered, emotion straining his voice as he touched Namjoon’s hand gently, lacing their fingers together as his eyes turned misty. “The peace we have… it will not last forever. When Jiminie was discovered was the first Iron Clad strike in a while.”

“Iron Clad won’t be dormant forever, hyung,” Jungkook mumbled, clenching his fist. Tae leaned his head on Jungkook’s shoulder as the last of the happy day wore off, the reality of their world crashing back around them and Jimin felt it.

Felt the sadness, the agony, and grief. It was like a living being within the room, breathing the same air as it sat in the corner like a terrible reminder.

“So… Spark Ring?” Tae asked, looking up. Namjoon nodded.
“Get packing, boys. We are headed to Daegu tomorrow and fighting.”

Chapter Text

It was a smell he knew. The clean, almost absent scent of his home. Of the place he grew up and once smelled of lavender and clove from his father’s aftershave since his mother loved the scent of clove. He missed that scent. Missed what it brought.

The comfort of family. From a time when he felt like he belonged. Where his father spoke to him, smiling with crinkled eyes and a gentle laugh as he ruffled his hair and told him to look after his brother and mother.

Hearing him scream now, he missed the gentle tones. The soft hand. He missed his family. Why did things have to change? Why does he have to love dancing? And be horrible at math? And spend all his time dreaming of dancing.

Why can’t he be better? Why can’t he be the son his father wanted?

“He is your son, Jihu! They both are!” Mom screamed. Jimin felt the way his brother’s hand tightened on his shirt, wrinkling the white material as a whimper left his throat, gangly, growing limbs pulled together as he tried to make himself as small as possible.

Swallowing thickly, biting back tears knowing he couldn’t cry. He was a big boy. He was a big boy. Dad didn’t like it when he cried, so he focused on running his fingers through his brother’s soft hair, murmuring lowly, humming the best he could as he tried to block it out.

Block out the pain building in his heart, and the screaming in his mind, reminding him that they were fighting because of him. That Jihyun was curled next to him because mom and dad were fighting because he was a failure.

“My son wouldn’t ask for pink hair, Subin. He wanted pink fucking hair, and to get pink ballet shoes. Did you agree to let him join that fucking dance studio?” Dad hissed, voice laced with venom. Jimin whimpered, looking down as he tightened his hold on his brother.

“Yes, I did. I let him because he is good, Jihu. He is amazing, if you just come down and see him! He is passionate and talented. Ryon-nim said he could audition for a music company with a bit more training and-” mom started, sounding desperate but she was cut off by the sound of breaking glass. Jihyun jumped, eyes wide in panic as Jimin tightened his hold, eyes locked on the light of his lamp that was flickering dangerously.

His breathing quickened, watching the bulb as it blinked and fluttered like a hummingbird's wings. He squeezed his eyes shut, wondering why the lights always react to him, willing it away. He squeezed Jihyun tighter, whispering a bit faster.

“I will not have my son raised that way. He will not be like those flashy males prancing around half naked, Subin. Not my first born son.” Jimin felt tears building, wishing he never said anything at all. The light flickered a bit more. “His grades are shit, and he is always prancing around. He wore eye liner, Subin. Fucking eyeliner. What’s next? He sucks cock instead of pussy?”
The sound of skin on skin followed. Jimin couldn’t breathe. His chest felt tight, lacing with strain as he fought to breathe. Jihyun was crying against his shoulder, salty tears wetting his shoulder but he barely noticed as he watched the shadows of his parents bounce across the stairwell, wondering why he was there at all.

Then, he heard the soft sound of his mother’s soft cries, twisting his gut like a dull knife. “What happened to you, Jihu? Since when do you care what our son prefers? He is your blood, your family… but all you see is work and a check to your pocket. Do you even know Jihyun’s favorite color? His friends? What about Jimin? Do you know anything about them? Food? Subject? Anything?”

Silence. Another soft sob.

“I’m sleeping on the couch tonight, Jihu. Have fun with work.” Jimin heard the clattering of feet, another grumbled swears and Jimin felt everything inside him burst as the door slammed shut, his father’s car starting and disappearing.

The lights blew, and with it, the last of what he wanted. What he desired. He would obey his father. He would dance less, and study more. He wouldn’t wear eye liner… he would try. He wanted his mom to be happy, and for Jihyun to smile more instead of trembling in his arms.

“Jiminie? Jihyunie? What are you two… Oh, the lights blew again,” mom whispered. She sounded so tired, so run down and worn as another sigh whistled through her and she clambered the stairs tiredly. Jimin and Jihyun glanced up, taking in her beautiful face.

Her raven hair fell past her shoulders, thick and smelled of sweet honey. Her full cheeks were a bit paler than usual, and her lips raw from being bitten to much. But she was still beautiful, perfectly petite, and delicate like a flower but strong like a willow tree.

But her eyes were sad, haunted and plagued, stealing a bit of the light that brightened her light brown that usually danced like the smile across her lips. But tonight, she seemed to have aged a few years. Dark circles and a frown curving her lips.

“Oh, my sweet angels,” she said, wiping the tear stains away upon seeing her son’s matching streaks across their faces as she kneels down and opens her arms. Both of the boys eagerly clambered into her arms as she rocked them gently, and Jimin felt better. He was surrounded by honey. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

Neither of the boys said anything, and she didn’t mention the lights, but she held them close as she kissed their temples and lathered them with love.

“I love you boys so much. Never forget how much I love you and how much I need you, alright?” She whispered, pulling away to peer at their faces, squinting a bit to see in the low light. Jimin clutched her closer, nodding his head slowly as she smiled lovingly at him. “Jiminie, don’t lose hope, okay baby? Please believe that there are so many things waiting for you. Life has so much to offer you.”

“What does that mean?” Jimin whispered, twelve year old mind not understanding what she was trying to tell him, not knowing why she was saying life meant something to him. But she only smiled and kissed his forehead.

“You will know, love. Come on, bedtime.”

And then the scene changed. And he already hated it. He hated the papers scattered across his bed, hated the way the circles under his eyes made him seem dead and his cheeks were sunken in. He hated the way his lap felt heavy with books, and his eyes crossed as he wrote quickly.

He could smell Baekhee’s perfume, feel her presence in the room. “Why do you keep doing this to yourself, Jimin?” She asked. Her brown eyes were locked on his hunched figure, watching the way his pencil moved across the page with her arms crossed.

Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, and her face with light makeup as she sat at the end of his bed. Her eyes were sad and a bit angry, just watching him write and look back at the multiple books at the end of the bed.

“Because I need to. I need to make into these special AP courses. I have to.,” Jimin answered irritably, peering up through his raven black fringe with a curl to his lips as his fiffteen year old self watched his best friend. “Why do you even care?”

“Because I am watching you destroy yourself for no reason! Jimin, what the fuck did your father say to you? These past few weeks you hardly eat, you are constantly having your face shoved in books, and I am watching as you wither right in front of me,” Baekhee cried, staring at him in disbelief. Jimin huffed, mumbling a ‘I’m fine’ under his breathe. “Bullshit. Even Jihyun is worried about you.”

“I don’t need either of you worrying about me! I am a big boy and I can handle myself, now piss off, Baekhee,” Jimin snarled, tossing a pen in her direction. She ducked and sent a icy glare in his direction but he only met it evenly, keeping his hands buried in his sweatshirt sleeves. “I have to do this, alright? I have to.”

“No, you don’t. Jimin, this is your life. Yours. Not your father's. He does not rule your decisions. Face it, you suck at math, at science. You dance. You have this life. How do you wanna spend it? Apologizing? Obeying your fathers every whim? Regretting that years down the road when you stuck in a job you hate? Questioning every little thing life throws at you? Hating yourself?” Jimin felt his breath catch, staring wide eyed in her direction as she pressed on, barely pausing as she caught his gaze. “Dieting to the point you look disgusting? Running after people who don’t see you and never will? For once in your life, Jimin, be brave. Do what feels good, not what is expected from you. Take risks. Don’t live someone else's dream. Be who you want to be, not who they told you to be.”

Jimin bit his lip, glancing back down at the book in his lap, then slowly back to Baekhee who sat watching him, emotion and steel swirling within her brown eyes as she watched him struggle. He felt torn, like two halves of his body were at war.

“Baek… I… I can’t…” He whispered, hands tightened around the edges of the book. HIs knuckles plastered white and the edges bit into the skin of his palm. He looked down and squeezed his eyes shut. “I am the first born son. I have to… I have responsibilities.”

“You have responsibilities to yourself to Jimin. It’s okay to want to be happy. You’re always sitting here telling me I can be anything, I can be anyone, and that Jihyun can do anything. You are always fucking telling other people how they can be themselves. When will you follow your own advice?”

Jimin kept quiet as he turned to look towards the door where Jihyun’s room was across the hall. He could see him from where he stood, working happily on his homework. He was good at this kind of stuff. Math and sciences. He loved numbers.

“When I have a reason to.”

“Hyung! Can we go get Bubble Tea with Baekie?” Jihyun called, peering up from his desk with wide eyes. Baek glanced back at him, as if questioning him, and Jimin found himself nodding, deciding to at least take some form of happiness. “Yes!”

“Jiminie?” Jimin blinked his eyes open, squinting at the soft light of his lamp that was flicked on as he turned his head to see Taehyung standing by his bed, dark eyes filled with concern as he leaned over. “Are you alright?”

“TaeTae? What are you…?” He grumbled, voice husky from sleep as he took in Tae’s loose black sweats, Nike sneakers, and oversized hoodie that swallowed the male as he stood with a black backpack in his hand. His brow furrowed, mind slowly processing.

“Jiminie, the train leaves in a hour and a half. Joonie hyung told me to wake you,” Tae replied, noticing the confused look flashing across the Empower’s face as he sat up, sheets falling away from his chest. “You packed last night, so you just gotta get dressed. Jinie hyung has food for us down stairs.”

“What time is it?” Jimin asked, waking up a bit more as he glanced towards the window, where the night was still reigning. Tae smiled, but even he looked a bit on the sleepy side.

“Five a.m. Better move fast,” he answered before stumbling towards the door. Jimin flinched at the time, running a hand through his messy, ash blond hair and blew out his cheeks. Tae paused by the door, another frown on his face. “Did you have a bad dream? You were mumbling a lot, and you looked sad.”

Jimin blinked, looking down at his lap as remembered what he ‘dreamed’. It wasn’t really a dream, just a small collection of things he hadn’t remembered in a while. It made his heart clench tightly in his chest and his eyes to turn misty.

“It wasn’t a bad dream, it was just… it was memories, you know?” Tae nodded slowly, understanding dawning his gaze as he searched Jimin’s features, taking in the way his eyes fluttered to keep his tears at bay. “And I really messed up with a friend.”

“Kookie told me what happened… back when you said goodbye to your family. He said that… something happened? And you lost it for a minute.” Jimin flinched, Baek’s terrified face flashing in his mind’s eye. Tae licked his lips. “Jiminie, listen, shit like that happens. From what I am gathering, you care about this person a lot. Maybe reach out? You never know how it would go, you know?”

“Maybe…” Jimin drawled out carefully, shaking his head a moment. “But I’m not ready yet. This is something I need more time with. I have to get better. I can’t keep ‘losing’ it. I left my family to get stronger and gain control, not to mess around and yet I still can’t control it. When I am ready, I plan to reach out to her. To talk. But right now? I have no right to.”

Tae was quiet, nibbling a bit on his bottom lip as he looked at the floor, head cocked to the side as he debated saying something. Jimin looked pained, even a little frustrated with himself.

“Can I…. say something?” Tae asked cautiously. Jimin looked up, blinking.

“Why are you asking? Of course you can,” he replied instantly. Tae nodded slowly, shifting his weight from foot to foot, wringing his hands in his shirt as he stepped back into the room. He lifted his gaze.

“I think you have grown a lot since coming here.” Jimin’s heart pounded, staring at Tae in surprise. “You work hard everyday. I watch you, how you fight and how you try so hard. You are constantly apologizing for almost everything you do sometimes, but that’s slowed down a little. You… you are getting better at controlling it, but you still seem to hold yourself back. You keep on downing yourself, putting this chain around your neck and wondering why you can’t move without choking yourself. You have this idea that you should be able to do it on the first try, but you're wrong. Being a Spark isn’t easy. And we aren’t expecting you to get your power on the first try. You won’t learn that way.”

“You know… I will never understand how anyone could call you dumb. That was way too deep for like five in the morning,” Jimin breathed, unsure of how else to answer. Tae chuckled, shrugging as he turned back on his heel. “Hey, TaeTae.” The male paused again, glancing back. “Thank you.”

“Sure. Now, seriously, hurry up! You’re moving slower than Yoongi hyung.” Jimin nodded and climbed out of bed, grabbing the clothes he set out for the train ride. It was simple, and he wasn’t dressing to impress anybody.

It was simple too-loose jeans that were worn and had a few holes. The shirt was long sleeved and black with white writing across the arms and swallowed him whole. He had a belt on to keep the jeans up and simple combat boots. He completed the messy look with a black snapback to cover his messy hair.

Grabbing his small backpack, which was filled with his training clothes, a few extra pairs of underwear, and makeup with a phone charger, he headed out the door and made a beeline for the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He moved quickly, brushing his teeth and adding liner around his sleepy eyes before flicking off the light before trailing down the stairs where everyone was bleary eyed and sitting on the couch.

“Everyone ready?” Namjoon asked, relief spreading across his face at seeing Jimin up and semi-alive. Tae glanced over at him, offering his bright rectangular smile while Jungkook was pretty much back asleep across his lap.

Hobi was sitting on the lone couch, groaning a bit under his breathe as he munched half-heartedly on a apple that was taking a bit too long to be eaten fully. Yoongi was on the ground, not seeming to care as he used his bag as a pillow and remained in a half asleep state.

Jin appeared from the kitchen, carrying a small brown paper bag in his hands and looked a bit more alive than the rest of them. His hair was brushed, his clothing simple yet comfortable. He looked the most prepared.

“Ah, Jiminie, here is your breakfast. Now, everyone up. It’s time to head to the car so we can get to the train station. Move it, boys,” Jin ordered, passing Jimin the bag as he walked by. Jimin bowed his head in gratitude before the rest of them groaned and slowly getting to their feet as they trudged for the door.

Jimin peeked in the bag and saw a apple, granola, and a yogurt with a little bottle of milk. He blinked, but was grateful as they piled into the car. Jin was driving, Namjoon taking the position of passenger seat driver while the others sat where they fit. Jimin was behind Namjoon, with Tae behind him, Jungkook of course next to Tae. Yoongi took the middle seat since he was smaller, and Hobi on the left of him.

It was… interesting, that was for sure, but everyone was too tired to really care so Jimin said nothing as he glanced at Yoongi and offered his shoulder. The elder shot him a grateful look before laying his head on the small shoulder and instantly falling asleep.

Jimin smiled, a swell of affection growing in his chest at the steady rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest, little sounds of his breathing twinkling in his ears. Yoongi’s hair was tickling his nose, offering a sweet shampoo that he couldn’t place, but liked.

Peeking down at him, a little smile crossed his features. When Yoongi was asleep, he looked smaller. More like the nineteen year old that he was. His features smoothed out, revealing a softer side of him and a natural pout that graced his face in sleep.

Without even thinking about it, he ran his fingers through his hair, teasing his scalp a bit, remembering that Yoongi told him his mother would do it often. Yoongi moaned a bit under his breathe, shifting closer to Jimin and nuzzling his shoulder like a cat. He paused, before continuing running his fingers through his soft hair.

Yoongi settled again, this time with a half smile on his face. Jimin settled back in the car and laid his head on the window, keeping his fingers locked within the soft strands of Yoongi’s hair, closing his eyes and letting sleep whisk him away.

Jin glanced in the rearview mirror, watching with a smile on his face as Jimin fell asleep snuggled against Yoongi. Jimin’s thoughts were basic and nothing extreme, but he couldn’t help but hope for more.

It had to be the first time Yoongi has ever opened up to someone so quickly. Jin was stunned by the way Jimin seemed to have a special soft spot reserved just for him within Yoongi’s heart. A care that Jin wasn’t sure what to think of.

Watching them interact was a mix between fondness and hatred. They were opposites in so many things. Yoongi was cold, unforgiving, and tended to show he cared in tiny, almost insignificant ways while Jimin was bright, thoughtful, and had his heart on his sleeve. All he did was care about others instead of himself.

When they were together, it was like they balanced each other out. Jimin learned a bit about being harsher, while Yoongi softened and melted like an ice cube. Jin had also noticed that Yoongi had a smile just for Jimin, and he wondered often when the two would realize that there could be something.

Jin wasn’t a romantic, never considered himself to be, and he wasn’t going to call it love because that was bullshit. You can’t love someone like that when you first meet them, or barely know them. Love grows gradually, through trails and words, and little things you notice about a person.

Anyone who says love at first sight exists in crazy, in Jin’s book. Maybe attraction at first sight or desire to know more at first sight, but certainly not love. Love, while not always a choice, had a choice to stay even when things are tough.

As Jin said before, he doesn’t believe in fate either. It seemed too out of the blue. How can someone’s life always lead to the same thing? No matter what path you take? That was like saying that if Jin kept driving he would appear in america, when really he would fall into the ocean first,

There was too much, too many decisions, but he did think that some people matched. Their personalities and stories fit, their beings molded to understand one another and maybe even have a way of just finding each other. Jin liked to think that Namjoon and him were one of them

They fit. Their bodies molded, souls connected in ways no Spark, no being could explain, like how Jimin and Yoongi seemed to be. They fit. The missing piece to the puzzle that made them whole, but the question was, would they want to put the pieces together?

Jin liked to think he knew Yoongi the best. Could hear his passing thoughts, knew some of how he thought, and had seen his past in a brief glimpse. He still doesn’t know Min Yoongi, but he knows one thing- the man is afraid of feeling. He is afraid to be close to people.

He could understand that, after seeing a flash of Yoongi’s life, but all he was doing was making it harder on himself. Jin considered themselves lucky that Yoongi opened up as much as he did to them. It wasn’t much, but the male did care.

With a life like this, it was important to have someone sometimes. Someone to ground you, and keep you together. Like Tae did for Jungkook, and Namjoon did for Jin. He was sad that Hobi’s person didn’t even realize how deep it was. That the person who he loved would never realize he was in love with him.

“Don’t feel pity for me, Seokjin,” Hoseok suddenly spoke up, startling Jin out of his thoughts as his eyes flicked back towards the mirror where Hobi’s gaze awaited. Guilt at his thoughts slammed into him, along with fear as he darted his eyes to Tae, who was fast asleep against Jungkook, also asleep. “He’s asleep. They all are except for you, me, and Namjoon.”

“Oh…” Jin whispered, remembering how Hobi mentioned once that when someone was asleep, their emotions mellowed out, became subdued like they were underwater. Somet

imes they vanished all together if in a deep enough sleep. “Right.”

“You were thinking about me, weren’t you? You read the same waves as yesterday during the Endplate game,” Hobi continued, turning his gaze towards the window. The act Hobi usually carried around the younger’s dropped, revealing the true Hobi that Jin prefered. “I told you a long time ago to forget about me.”

“Hoseok,” Jin murmured, sighing a bit as he scanned Hobi’s thoughts, but the Empath was having none of it, simply building up a small wall in his mind to keep Jin from reading too much into it.

“You should tell him the truth,” Jin finally muttered. Hobi scoffed, bitter amusement dancing across his features as he turned to look back at the sleeping Taehyung, nestled into the chest of the man he loved.

“No, if I do that he will feel guilty about being with Jungkook and I have no right to Tae, nor to interrupt his love for Jungkook. I’m fine anyway,” Hobi replied, smiling gently at the image even though deep within his heart, it twitched. “I have other people to go for, you know?”

“But, Hobi hyung,” Namjoon spoke up, turning around in his seat to face the Empath, who met his gaze with a fond smile. “It’s not fair to you, or him, to keep it from him.”

“Oh, but it is. Joonie, don’t worry about me, okay? I don’t need a relationship anyway. I’ll move on eventually, so stop feeling guilty or sad for me. I don’t need it.” Hobi turned his eyes back towards the window, this time a smile that was smaller, but no less brighter then Hobi’s true smile, was reflected back. “Besides, Tae and me wouldn’t have worked. And that’s okay, I know that. I just love him because he saw me when no one else did. I just have to wait till the next one comes around.”

“This is why they call you ‘Sunshine on Steroids’, you know,” Jin said, lightening the mood. Hobi chuckled, nodding his head a bit as he remembered what Yoongi loved to call him all the time.  “You will find that person, Hoseok. You will.”

“I know. Now, go back to driving. I want a nap without you sitting here all deep in your emotions.” Jin chuckled at the answer, but agreed as silence lapsed back in the car. He glanced at the clock and knew they would be at the train station in about twenty minutes, so he decided to let them sleep.

Once they got on the train, it was time for Jimin to learn a few things.



******

 

“That’s all well and good and all, but how do we wake Yoongi?” A voice hissed quietly, urging Jimin awake. He groaned, hand clenching around something soft and his body a bit heavy as if something was weighing him down.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like dying today,” a voice that sounded like Jungkook added. Jimin squeezed his eyes, breathing a bit deeply and smelling a masculine, yet endearing scent that was familiar wake him a bit more.

“Do we have to wake them? It’s kinda adorable. Yoongi is literally draped over Jiminie,” Tae giggled. The sound of a ‘yes’ sounded from somewhere while Jungkook promised pictures for blackmail later. “Oh, I think Jiminie is waking up.”

“Maybe Jimin can wake up Sleeping Beauty and remain intact,” Hobi added from somewhere nearby. Jimin groaned, blinking open his eyes to see the car was parked, the sun just beginning to rise somewhere in the distance and the weight he felt was none other than Min Yoongi.

The door to the car was opened on Jimin’s side, the members standing outside with looks across their faces as they waited for Jimin to arise from his little nap. Yoongi had his arm around Jimin’s middle, causing his skin to burn and feel a bit tingly.

His face was still pressed against his shoulder, with Jimin’s hand within the folds of his hair, and face lax with sleep. He looked precious and small, but Jimin knew as soon as he was awake that was going to end real fast.

“Jiminie, wake up Yoongi!” Tae whispered, slipping between Jin and Namjoon who was watching wearily. Jimin nodded, the last bit of sleep wiggling away when he realized just how close they were, just how… intimate it seemed.

“Um, okay?” Jimin mumbled, red reaching up to touch his cheeks as Jin ushered them away, giving orders to get their things and start walking to the station to turn in their tickets. Jimin ignored them, focusing his attention the stunning male in front of him.

Er… on him?

Jimin took a second to take in Yoongi’s vulnerable features. His fringe fell over his forehead, framing his ethereal features that Jimin loved. He always wished he could draw, but his talents didn’t really lie there, but he wished he could draw this.

Sighing to himself, he succumbed to the fact he would have to wake Yoongi, breaking the moment of peace between the two and realizing that once Yoongi was awake, he would be back to grouch.

Jimin flexed his fingers, bringing them alive as he carded his hands gently through Yoongi’s hair, offering a little smile as he nudged him with his leg. “Hey, Yoongi, come on. You gotta wake up,” he spoke, offering a little tug on his hair.

Yoongi groaned, snuggling his face a bit deeper in Jimin’s shoulder that caused his cheeks to burn a bit brighter while he actually wanted to coo at Yoongi’s cuteness. Honestly, how was this infuriating man so fucking adorable? It made no sense!

“Come on, Sleepy Head. We are the train station. You can sleep again on the train.” He hoped. He wasn’t sure but he wasn’t past bribing to get the male up.

“Fuck off.” Jimin would like to say he was surprised by the answer, but really, he wasn’t. He huffed instead, rolling his eyes as he lifted his leg once more which caused another angry groan.

“Well, I would ‘fuck off’ but I can’t because I am being used as a pillow,” Jimin countered, blowing out his cheeks as he removed his hand from Yoongi’s hair in a silent protest. The elder froze, the words seeming to register in his mind as he lifted his head and stared wide eyed up at Jimin, whose cheeks were still red and like a chipmunks. “Care to move?”

Yoongi lifted his body up, stretching out his arms and moving slowly. Jimin huffed again, internally screaming how it was adorable that he was like a  cat, but still said nothing as he moved his foot, wincing at the cramp.

Yoongi noticed, glancing over with a little frown, slow eyes slowly dawning with realization. “I… fell asleep on you?” Jimin nodded wordlessly, offering his eye smile to reassure him. Yoongi looked bewildered.

“Don’t worry about it, yeah? I let you, and you seemed comfy so it wasn’t bad till I had to wake you up and you started cursing at me,” Jimin explained with a shrug, his foot pricking with pins and needles as it slowly regained feeling. Yoongi looked away.

“You… let me sleep on you?” He asked, slowly, carefully, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but Jimin answered anyway with a simple ‘yes’ as he moved to head out of the car. Yoongi reached over and grabbed his hand, yelping a bit when purple voltage raced up his arm. “Fuck.”

“Yoongi!” Jimin shouted, concern welling up as Yoongi pulled his hand close to his chest. Yoongi tugged his hand away, shaking his head as he shook his hand, and Jimin was relieved to see that there didn’t seem to be damaged. “Shit, I am so sorry.”

“No, no, that was my fault. I think. I startled you,” Yoongi said quickly, seeming a bit uncomfortable. Jimin paused, licking his lips quickly, before dropping his hands and hiding them in his sleeves. Shame caused his skin to heat up. “It’s fine, Jimin. You didn’t really zap me. It felt… actually, it felt kinda funny. It was just startling is all.”

“Oh… um… sorry?” He offered weakly, the shame still riding through him strong. Yoongi huffed, seeming to be bemused as he dropped his hand. Jimin shifted his weight, itching to get a move on. “Did you… need something?”

“Oh shit, um,” Yoongi breathed, seeming a bit more awkward. Jimin arched a brow as Yoongi flushed a bit across his pale cheeks, a little disorganized from sleep and glancing around awkwardly. It was cute how when sleepy, Yoongi was out of sorts. “Were you the one… playing with my hair?”

Jimin wasn’t sure how to answer, another blush running up the back of his neck and burning him further as he hid his hands behind his back. He could feel Yoongi’s questioning, sleepy gaze.

“Well, um, yes?” He squeaked before looking up and shaking his head. “I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to, but you mentioned that your mom did it and so I wanted to give you some affection and shit that sounded better in my head-”

“-Jimin, shut up.” Jimin obeyed the firm spoken words as Yoongi rolled his eyes, climbed down from the car, and grabbed his bag to swing it over his shoulder. “I didn’t mind. I was trying to thank you before you started babbling. Now, let’s move. I can practically hear Jin’s screeching for our asses to get in gear.”

Jimin giggled, but agreed as he turned and made way for the lot, filled with cars and some people moving towards the station. Yoongi and Jimin walked briskly, weaving through the cars easily.

“Hey Jimin?”

“You used my name again. I better write this down,” Jimin teased, unable to stop himself as he looked at Yoongi through his lashes and fringe. The older male groaned, throwing his head back.

“You know what, fuck it.”

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that,” Jimin whined, wanting to grip Yoongi’s arm but after what happened only moments earlier he refrained. It was only another reminder of why he couldn’t be with his brother. He settled for stepping front of the male, stopping him in his path, and pouting. “What is it, hyung?”

“You… you are a little shit.”

“Maybe.”

“BOYS HURRY YOUR FUCKING ASSES UP!” Jin screamed, interrupting them. Catching each other’s panicked gazes, they darted off. Jimin made a mental note to tease Yoongi later about actually running. For once.

 

********

 

Jihyun: The science project was soooo easy! I was shopping for a challenge for once. Baek came to the award ceremony too. Oh, and she asked about you. A little. I didn’t tell her much, just that you ran off to do some underground dancing shit. She seemed.... I don’t know? Forlorn?

Jimin: Oh… she asked?

Jihyun: Did you think she wouldn’t? Jimin, Baekhee adores you, you know? She does love you. You’re like her twin brother.

Jimin: Yeah well… things change, Jihyunie.

Jihyun: Like you leaving?

Jimin paused, his breath catching in his throat at the words. He knew that Jihyun was still better over him leaving, and he couldn’t blame him, but sometimes it hurt.

Jihyun: Sorry… I didn’t mean it like that. I just miss you, and you still haven’t told me everything but I am not going to push you for answers. I trust you. But, you aren’t doing anything illegal, right?

Jimin: No, nothing illegal. I promise. I’m actually headed to Daegu.

Jihyun: DAEGU??? No freaking way! You are headed to somewhere else? Hyung, please take pictures!!!!

Jimin: I will, I promise. And now you wanna use ‘hyung’?

Jihyun: Yeah yeah, off to school for me.

Jimin smiled lightly as he put away his phone, turning his attention back to his window where he was watching the scenery float by. It was mostly trees, the sky cloudy and holding a promise of rain.

Jimin liked it.

“How many Factions do you think are showing up?” Yoongi suddenly asked, breaking the soft quiet that had fallen over the group, Namjoon glanced up from across the seat, Jin nestled in his side.

The sat in one of the private compartments of the train, Jin, Namjoon, and Hobi sitting across from the younger’s, plus Yoongi- who was squished between Jimin and the couple where Tae was curled up like happy puppy against Jungkook.

Namjoon scratched lightly at the back of his head, looking thoughtful. “Probably a good turn out. I know many of the Korean Factions will be there. As for the others…. It’s a toss up.” Tae looked at his hands, now placed limply in his lab as the aura around the group became serious.

“Why else would the Head want us there? He has never forced us to go before. I still don’t understand why he is starting now,” Tae muttered, glancing over at Jimin. Namjoon followed his gaze, a frown covering his face.

“Maybe the order isn’t from the Head, but the Ring of Maces.” The compartment was quiet again, and Jimin was staring at his hands, wishing he could catch up everyone, but he was drawing a blank. Jin must have read his thoughts because he spoke up.

“Guys, it’s time to explain to Jimin. He needs to know.” The room nodded, each turning to look at Namjoon who stepped up to start the explanations. JImin sat forward eagerly, desperate to understand. He was so tired of feeling alienated from the one place where he felt like he belonged.

“Alright, I don’t know how much Yoongi has told you, but I am going to start with our Government,” Namjoon stated, mulling it over simply in his head as he watched Jimin’s reactions. “Sparks have their own form of Government, even though we are a incredibly small group, we still need order and have rules just for us.”

“That way, things can’t get out of hand and we have guidelines to keep us in line,” Jin added after his husband, filling in a bit of the gap. Jimin licked his lips, trying to add moisture as they dried up.

“So, each area or city, state, whatever- has different Factions and then Homebounds. Homebounds are Sparks that haven’t joined a Faction to fight, but live like a Carnal under our same rule. Factions are the small groups of Sparks pulled together to fight,” Namjoon continued. Jimin’s head was already spinning at the information, but he was trying hard to understand it.

“And every Faction has a Faction Leader. They are kinda like the spokesperson for that Faction and are the ones who speak to the other groups on our behalf,” Tae added, turning to look at Jimin with a charming grin. Jimin nodded.

“Like Namjoon?”

“Exactly,” Namjoon praised with a small smile. Jimin nodded again, storing that information away for later. “And after Faction Leaders is the Head. They are the Head of that country and they report directly to the Ring of Maces.”

“Ring of.. Maces?” Jimin breathed, feeling a bit dizzy again. He never really thought about the fact Sparks would probably have their own way of doing things, policing themselves in ways, but if they have all this, how come they can’t stop Iron Clad?

“Think of the Ring of Maces as like the Queen of England, she has power but is more of a figurehead than anything. People respect her, listen to her advice, and fear the power she does have,” Jin clarified, smiling. “The Ring of Maces is basically like that, except a bit more. They offer guidelines, rules, but they wouldn’t function without Spark’s cooperation. To offer what they do, Factions obey and respond so they remain in power. Make sense?”

Jimin wanted to scream ‘no’ but he refrained and instead breathed out slowly, gaze trained to the carpeted red floor as he focused and tried to understand. It was so odd that they had Sparks who ruled them, seeming to police them, but then why was Iron Clad running around doing the things they are?

It seemed so bizarre and it was making his head pound.

“You are thinking to literally. Okay, Ring of Maces offers guidelines, but they will not step in because 1) our numbers are too small and 2) they are made to be more of a precaution. People need people to keep them in place. The Ring of Maces wouldn’t even work if Sparks themselves didn’t report to them if they notice something wrong, and in return they will either send someone to come themselves,” Jin continued. Jimin’s brow furrowed, mouth pinched but he nodded along. Yoongi glanced at his tight features, softening a bit as he took Jimin’s hand.

Jimin stiffened, surprise flooding his system at the move, eyes darting over to the male, but the other wasn’t looking at him. He only tightened his hold on his hand to offer silent reassurance. Jimin softened a bit, soaking up the touch of the larger, gruff hand that he found fit his tiny one well.

A little blush tinted his cheeks, but if the others noticed the development they never said a word, just kept their minds and eyes trained on the conversation.

“The Ring of Maces basically runs a service for Sparks. Sparks usually govern themselves, keeping each other in order, but if a Spark does something wrong and we can’t handle it ourselves, we pass it off to them,” Tae spoke up.

“Okay… so, they are necessarily active in Spark society?” Jimin asked, testing the waters. Yoongi snorted, but nodded, his hand tightened a tad and causing Jimin’s skin to continue to tingle with delight, his warmth soaking into him.

“Correct. They hardly hold meetings and try to keep away from general affairs. It’s made up of six members- one from each of the major continents. Minis Antarctica,” Yoongi added. Jimin snorted, a bit amused at Antarctica being left out.

“Okay, but that still doesn’t explain shit as to why Iron Clad isn’t being stopped by the Ring of Maces or why they haven’t even made a move. If you’re right and we are low on numbers, why the fuck haven’t they made a move?” Jimin asked, frustration bubbling within his chest again. His brain was aching, running a mile a minute to make sense of what they were trying to tell him.

“Easy,” Tae interjected before Namjoon could speak, dark orbs flickering over Jimin’s features. “Iron Clad won’t make a move to reveal themselves without a foot in the Korean Government without having protection against Carnal’s and the Maces.”

Jin nodded. “If they were to start revealing Sparks existence to Carnals, that would cause Ring of Maces into action since that is the only law we truly have- one that if broken Ring og Maces will seek to destroy them. But since they have broken no true law, the Maces will leave it to the Heads.”

“Besides, if they did reveal themselves now to Carnal’s they will be outnumbered and have nothing to protect themselves against scared humans,” Yoongi snorted, shaking his head. “Think about it- they have no foothold in the Korean Government, so the humans would more likely to attack them then use them.”

“Domestic violence, a race not their own. Chaos. Boom,” Jungkook stated boredly. Jimin sighed, running his hands continuously through his hair as his mind raced, his heart burned, and disbelief was coursing through his body.

“Iron Clad fears the Ring of Maces for the respect they hold throughout the Spark community, how they run things while still giving Sparks free rein while still keeping them together through mutual understanding,” Namjoon pressed on, shooting Jungkook a glance.

A groan lodged itself in his throat, the hand that was still nestled within Yoongi’s tightening a bit more. The other didn’t mind, giving a gentle squeeze without even glancing in Jimin’s direction as Jimin fought to understand.

“Okay, so what is this Spark Ring exactly?” Jimin asked, relieved to have Yoongi’s hand to hold onto. It reassured him, was oddly incredibly comforting and made him feel like he wasn’t alone. Yoongi turned to glance at him this time.

“It’s training grounds. A bunch of different Factions come from all over to join in on this large match between different Sparks and see how far they can go and how good they are against different powers,” Yoongi explained. Namjoon nodded.

“It’s usually held once every other month, and it moves. Sometimes it’s even as far as all the way in America, but we hardly go to those. We aren’t that rich,” Jin added with a snort. Jimin wanted to comment, but decided to stay quiet. “We always go to the ones in Korea, Japan, or China, but that is usually it.”

“And the Head said we have to go to this one?”

“Because of you,” Yoongi replied. Jimin frowned, glancing over at Yoongi who met his gaze a moment before shrugging. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. We have already discussed why- you are an Empower. You’re valuable.”

“Anyway- enough of this talk. Let’s get some rest. We still have a while before we station in Daegu and I know at least Yoongi wants to sleep,” Jin interrupted, breaking the tension in the room. Yoongi rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it as the hold on Jimin’s hand slithered away. “Jimin, don’t worry so much about the Spark Ring. You will only stress yourself.”

“Yeah…. Sure.”

Yoongi settled back into the chair, closing his eyes and letting sleep take back over while the others got comfortable, not at all looking worried about the upcoming issues and instead looking grateful to sleep.

Jimin sighed, the nerves of what was to come bouncing around in his system and stealing any desire to sleep away from him as he turned his attention to the window, letting his mind go wherever the wind takes.

He wasn’t his thoughts to shift more to Yoongi. A frown covered his face as he glanced at his hand, now cold without the other males warmth. It was troubling. He didn’t really understand where the affection came from, or how it happened, or even why.

What was their relationship? Yoongi has never really stated that they were friends, most of the time seeming more annoyed with Jimin than anything, but lately it seemed since Jimin’s panic attack, things have been a different.

Yoongi was grouchy less, and seemed to be a bit more civil. Most of the time. It came and it went, but Jimin wasn’t sure what to make of it. He knew he liked it a bit too much. He liked being near Yoongi, and learning new things about him. The male was calming, made him want to better himself, even when he was an asshole.

A part of wanted to deny what he was feeling but he couldn’t. He was starting to like Yoongi. He didn’t love him, but he was intrigued. Yoongi was handsome, proud, and kind, but at the same time distant and cold, but so caring. Jimin wanted to unravel him. He wanted to see him fall apart and be the one to help put him back together.

He wanted to be the one that Yoongi turned to and he hated it. Why must he start to like someone? For someone who could never possibly like him back? He wasn’t made for it and he was so tired of being played with. He promised himself after Cheol that he wouldn’t do this to himself.

So, he would tell himself he was just growing fond of the older male and it was nothing else. He didn’t care that he was tired, and hated being alone. He didn’t want to admit to himself that Yoongi was becoming someone he wanted.

It didn’t matter to Jimin. He has been alone for a little while now, and he could be alone a lot longer. It wasn’t like he was completely alone, but he craved affection. He craved being loved by someone, being shown love. It was something he hardly got but he wanted it.

Looking at Yoongi now, he sighed and turned away. It wasn’t for him, and he was going to be okay with that.

 

*******

“Looks we are having a maze for our arena,” Yoongi muttered, glancing around the huge grassy field located on the outskirts of Daegu. The grass was unkempt and long, tickling at his ankles as Jimin stared in aw.

The field was broken up into three sections. The first section appeared to be the actual arena. Large wooden walls were put up, at least ten feet high, and laid out in a huge maze, even leading some into the forestry behind. It was located to the back of the field more while everything else was a bit closer to the old dirt road that looked like it hadn’t been used in years.

The other section was too the left side, and had three tents standing up to reveal different assortment of weapons. Jimin could identify guns, tasers, bows and arrows, throwing knifes, and even paintball guns and rubber daggers. The second tent seemed to be a makeshift Mender tent, a familiar face standing within that fold, and the third tent just holding seats and places to rest.

The sky was still cloudy, taking a good bit of the day and bringing the beginning of a autumn chill. The wind rustled at the nearby trees and made the blades of grass dance as people walked around, all dressed in similar training gear or loaded with weapons.

The nerves returned full force, slamming into Jimin as his chest tightened and his throat was lodged with a lump as he stared wide eyed at the weapons, a trickle of fear crawling up his spine like cold steel of a dagger. He knew his hands were shaking by his side, could feel the energy within him surging.

His heart was thundering in his ears, mirroring wild horses as his stomach dropped at sight before him while his mouth ran dry and his legs locked. Namjoon didn’t seem to notice Jimin stopping since he went straight for one of the tents, where Jimin could now see a small table set up and a girl who looked Korean was sitting behind.

Jin, now unable to read his jumbled thoughts, stopped and turned to look at Jimin, whose chest was beginning to scramble for air. Worry etched instantly on his face as he made a move to go to him, Tae and Jungkook pausing too, but Yoongi stepped in front of him, blocking Jimin’s panicked gaze.
“Seokjin, I got it,” Yoongi bellowed. Jimin made a move to peer around him, needing to see how many people- no, Sparks- were here but Yoongi stepped again in his line of vision. The panic made his chest hurt and he knew he was millimeters from having another panic attack.

He felt stupid. He felt so pathetic. Why couldn’t he handle anything on his own? It was no wonder his father has always considered him the weak one. He can’t handle anything and now Yoongi has seen him not once, but twice of him breaking down.

How fucking attractive.

As soon as Jin dragged the others away, Yoongi softened, the corners of his eyes melting to reveal the soft side that Jimin has only seen flashes of, little flickers of throughout his time knowing him, and the stern frown melted to his naturally pouty face he usually had.

His dark eyes were trailing over Jimin’s misty eyes, down to his trembling lips and hands and then back to his face that was struggling to catch his breathe. For a moment, Jimin couldn’t read what was going through Yoongi’s mind, but that wasn’t exactly unusual.

Reading Yoongi was like trying to read braille for him. He had no fucking clue and would more and likely stare blankly as he waited for the answer.

“Jimin.” His voice was the usual deep, but somehow a bit softer, alluring. It made Jimin focus all his jumbling energy and panic on that voice. A voice he knew. A voice he trusted. This was the side of Yoongi he craved. And he hated having it now. “It’s alright. Breathe. Breathe in and out. Nothing is gonna hurt you.”

Jimin tried. He breathed out slowly, shuddering a bit at the pain of trying, but he listened. He could feel how his hands were still bouncing with dangerous volts, shaking by his side, but he closed his eyes and obeyed.

‘There you go. That’s it. Breathe. I’m right here. Breathe in on my count.” Jimin flickered open his eyes as yoongi’s eyes searched his, a little gummy smile appearing on his face as he started the count. Jimin obeyed, and soon his breathing evened out and the pain his chest lessened as everything around him settled. He exhaled lowly, relieved. “Feel better?”

“You… you looked up how to handle panic attacks?” Jimin asked, opening his eyes to look at the elder carefully. Yoongi flushed and looked away, clearing his throat as he took a couple of steps back and Jimin focused on reining in the lightning.

“I disliked not knowing what to do the first time, plus spilling my life every time you had one didn’t seem that appealing so I decided to at least look into it,” Yoongi explained quickly, shoving his hands in his pockets and keeping his eyes averted. A slow, cheeky smiled crossed Jimin’s face as the rest of the tension leaked away from his shoulders.

“Who knew the cold asshole had such a warm heart- don’t worry. Your secret's safe with me,” Jimin promised. Yoongi huffed, rolling his eyes as his head lulled back towards the smaller. Jimin was grinning, he probably looked stupid, but he couldn’t help. “Who knew you have grown so fond of me. I’m flattered.”

“Cheeky. Anyone ever tell you that you are like, a devil who acts like an angel? You’re such a little shit!” Yoongi muttered, turning on his heel. Jimin only smiled to himself, watching Yoongi as he walked away, his movements breathlessly graceful in it’s own way.

“Yoongi…” he called out. The white haired paused, peering over his shoulder at Jimin with raised brows in question. Jimin offered a weak smile. “Thank you. For helping me. Um… don’t… tell the others? Please? I don’t want them to keep thinking I’m pathetic and I-”

“Pathetic?” Yoongi asked, interrupting him as a scowl morphed his features. Jimin opened his mouth but then it clicked shut, his eyes dropping back to the ground as he stared at the ground, gritting his teeth to the point it hurt. “Where the fuck did you get that idea?”

Jimin bit his lip, keeping silent. Yoongi’s frustration grew as he marched back, a squeak leaving Jimin’s lips when yoongi grabbed his chin and raised his head, forcing his eyes to lock onto Jimin’s.

Jimin didn’t dare breathe as he stared at Yoongi, eyes wide and afraid. He didn’t know what to make of this. Yoongi’s brow was furrowed, teeth clenched, and lips pressed into a firm line. Anger was oozing from him and Jimin was afraid.

“Stop letting people who do nothing for you control your thoughts, emotions, and mind. You aren’t fucking pathetic. Annoying? Yes, but you aren’t pathetic. If you were pathetic, you would have left Bangtan a long time ago.” Jimin’s breath caught as Yoongi released his chin only to grab his collar and pull it down, revealing the cut he made in the bathroom a while ago.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jimin screeched, slapping his hand away and tearing his collar away to pull it back up, staring at Yoongi in horror, but the male only stared back, face blank.

“See? Strength right there.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Jimin hissed, irritation running through him as he glanced around the crowded area and was glad no one seemed to be paying attention. Yoongi only offered a teasing smile.

“It means you kept going. That’s strength. The only thing pathetic here is the fact you can’t see it yourself. I’ll be in the tent with the others,” Yoongi stated. Jimin could only watch as the male walked away, from becoming smaller as he joined the others at the resting tent.

Huffing to himself, Jimin shook his head and pushed other thoughts to the side. Right now, he had things to do. Walking briskly, he rejoined the others under the tent, keeping his gaze away from Yoongi as he took his place next to Tae who instantly enveloped him in a hug.

“Namjoon,” a female voice, laced with a american accent, called. Namjoon looked up, breaking into a smile as he caught sight of the obviously american female headed their way. She was on the small side, reaching a height of about 5’5, with reddish brown hair and full body. She wasn’t fat, but she was shapely, thick, and well endowed.

She was unfamiliar, and her green eyes laced with golden flecks all throughout. She walked with a unnatural grace, something almost not right. Her shoulders were pulled back and she wore practically nothing. She wore a meager burgundy tank top, short, black shorts that clung to her.

“Nicole,” Namjoon greeted, seeming to be surprised. Hobi’s head jerked up, eyes widening as his eyes landed on her. The woman, Nicole, seemed to be on the younger side- a flash of childish chub to her cheeks as she smiled.

Jimin’s brow furrowed when she saw Hobi’s hand move and before anyone could even move or Jimin could open his mouth to ask what was happening, he had dagger aimed for her head.

“HOSEOK!”

Chapter Text

“HOSEOK!” Jimin screamed, making a move to grab the knife, but it was already through the air and headed straight for Nicole. Green eyes darted towards Hoseok, flickering towards the dagger milliseconds before she flanked right, dodging the dagger.

Hoseok barely gave her time to recover as he leapt up from the table, a sneer plastered across his face as he charged towards her. Nicole looked taken aback as she raised her hands in fighting stance.

Jimin was panicking. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on or why Hoseok was attacking this girl, and Namjoon’s surprised face wasn’t helping either. Jimin stood, making a move to stop him but Yoongi grabbed his arm.

“Jimin, don’t! You’ll get hurt!” Yoongi hissed, pulling his arm a bit more to pull him away from the fighting Sparks. Namjoon had his arm out to protect Jin, who looked as panicked as Jimin while Tae and Jungkook stood a few feet away, unsure as well as to what was happening.

Hoseok threw a right jab towards her throat, but Nicole seemed to sense it since she flanked right and swatted his and away before kicking out her leg to try and catch him off guard, but eh easily regained his balance.

Other Sparks from around the arena seemed to catch that the fight was real since they started running around. Jimin’s eyes widened when he heard them calling out for a ‘Void’. Hoseok seemed to notice the crowd and knew his time was dwindling since his attacks sped up.

Nicole sensed the change, her eyes widening when his punches came faster and she was starting to fail but she wasn’t having it. Flanking to her right, she charged and sent her fist upwards into his gut. Hoseok doubled over, clutching his gut as she slammed her elbow on the back of his neck that sent him down.

He groaned, shifting on the dirt to stand but she sent a vicious quick towards his stomach that ceased his movements before straddling him, pressing a small dagger across his throat that came from somewhere on her body.

Hobi struggled to breathe in air, but his eyes were filled with raw anger and distrust as he stared up at the labored breath of the girl, who was staring down at him as if she had seen a ghost. Her hair had fallen a bit loose from her ponytail, framing her features, as she stared back at him.

“You… you still can’t beat me, Hoseokie,” she muttered, American accent still noticeable in her Korean. Jimin tugged again on his arm, worry for Hobi clouding his face but Yoongi’s grip only tightened.

If it wasn’t for the situation, Jin might have appreciated the fact his back was pressed against Yoongi’s with an arm around his waist, but he was too afraid for his friend to truly care in that moment.

“You bitch,” Hoseok wheezed, wiggling his body to escape as she pressed the knife harder against his throat. Hobi paused while Jin screeched, a hand covering his mouth to keep it silent, but Nicole still sensed it as she flickered her gaze towards Jin cautiously. “You were supposed to be dead. How the fuck are you here?”

“I could say the same for you,” Nicole replied coldly, eyes locked back on Hobi’s enraged ones. Hobi only glowered, the anger still coursing through his veins. Nicole shifted her weight, keeping eyes steady. “I don’t want to hurt you, Hoseokie. I have a feeling Dawon wouldn’t be happy with me.”

“Dawon is dead,” Hobi hissed, a flash of agony across his features. Nicole paused a moment, a sad look crossing her face as she loosened her grip on the blade. “She’s fucking dead because of Iron Clad. Where the fuck were you? You’re family? Huh? Where the fuck were they?”

“I was a child, Hoseok. I was new to my powers,” Nicole defended wearily. Hobi scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief as he shoved her off of him, her ass landing in the grass as he stood. She sat still, head down. “My family is dead too. You’re not the only one who lost everything.”

Hoseok froze, eyes widening as he looked down at Nicole in surprise. The girl lifted her head and gave a sad smile, eyes a bit watery as she looked Hobi over carefully. Hobi remained still. She had grown a bit from who she used to be, taking on her woman form.

“Nikki.” The girl looked up as his face softened and he kneeled next to her. “You… you joined a Faction?” She laughed and nodded, the tension easing between them as she deflated a bit. He offered a weak smile. “I still don’t fully trust you. One day I want to hear the full story, but right now, we seemed to have made some officials angry.”

Nicole looked up to see her Faction running towards her, causing her to stand quickly as one male thrust out his hand and sent Hoseok flying straight into Tae and Jungkook, who grunted on impact as they went down.

“Hoseok!” Nicole screamed before rushing towards her Faction. “James, stop! It’s a misunderstanding! It was just a misunderstanding! Stand down,” she shouted in English, stepping in front of the male whose name was James, who slowly lowered his hand. She breathed out in relief.

“TaeTae! Kookie-ah! Hobi hyung!’ Jimin shouted. Yoongi released him as he ran over to the group. Tae was groaning a bit, Hobi pushing himself up as Jungkook tried to keep him steady. Jimin rushed to Tae’s side.

Jin joined Jungkook on the other side of him, putting an arm around his waist to help him stay upright while Namjoon approached the two officials who paused in front of the tent. Jin caught sight of them, noting their tattoo across the palm of their hand as a swear became known.

“Nice job, Hobi. You brought company,” Jin muttered, grabbing Hobi’s hand to help him stand. The Empath offered a weak smile, but winced as pain raced up his ankle when he tried to put weight on it.

“You don’t feel all mad about it,” Hobi replied, cutting a glance towards the two Heads, one being the Korean Head and the other seeming to be the Japanese Head. Jin scoffed, shaking his head as Jimin helped Tae stand while Yoongi helped Jungkook.

“I’m not, but later I expect to hear a good reason for you attacking that girl. What the fuck were you thinking Hobi? There are no fights outside the Ring and you just went and tried to kill her!” Jin scolded, eyeing him wearily. Hobi sighed, running a hand through his messy hair a bit shakily.

“I wouldn’t worry about you scolding me later, Jin. Namjoon might just do it for you,” Hobi muttered, wincing at the harsh rolls of anger wafting from the Leader as he spoke quickly to the two Heads. Jin followed his gaze. “It’s alright. I will take the hour long lecture I am sure I will receive. It was my fault.”

Jin chuckled, nodding his head to agree to that fact, but decided not to push the other male as Namjoon huffed, raising his voice a bit more as Jin frowned. Jimin hugged Tae, glad that they were alright before glancing towards Namjoon and the two Heads.

“Eomma, who are they?” Jimin asked as they group huddled. Nicole kept shooting them glances as she spoke to her own Faction, calming them a bit. There was five them, including her, a smaller Faction, and they all seemed to be American like her. They seemed to be just as uneasy at the appearance of the other two speaking to Namjoon.

Jungkook was the one who answered, his face tight and his eyes narrowed into slits. “Heads. The male on the right is the Korean Head,” he sneered, dislike stark across his face as he glared heavily at the male. Taehyung placed a hand on his arm, a silent way of calming him, as Jimin studied him.

The man seemed to be in his late twenties, black hair gelled back and face stern and cold with angular features. HIs eyes were so dark they were almost black and a constant frown was covering his face. He looked cruel.

The Head next to him was female. She looked Asian, but not quite Korean. She was a bit smaller. Her petite frame and slightly tanner skin gave her away while her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Her clothing consisted of black yoga pants, white shirt, and matched the male next to her. She seemed a bit softer than the male next to her, for sure.

“His name is Pok Songmin. A Shadow Spark, so he is Rank 4, Combat,” Hobi added, eyeing him with a frown of distaste. Jimin blinked, brow furrowing at the unfamiliar term of his Spark type. Hobi sensed his confusion. “A Shadow is a Spark who can manipulate, light, shadows, and darkness. They are masters of stealth, almost able to make themselves invisible by bending the light right.”

A coldness settled in the pit of Jimin’s stomach, mouth running dry again at such a powers existence. It was cool, sure, Jimin would readily admit that, but the idea of someone being able to do that was terrifying.

Taehyung glanced at the girl next to him. “That’s the Japanese Head. Yukimura Asaji. Dragon Breath right? Poison breather?” Tae whispered, glancing over at Jungkook. The male nodded briskly, taking Tae’s hand and pulling him behind it.

“Dragon Breath?” Jimin murmured, blinking his eyes as a cold pit of ice froze in his stomach, making it churn dangerously. Taehyung nodded slowly, Jungkook glancing over at where NIcole and her Faction were slinking off, Nicole eyes watching the Heads with unease.

“They aren’t common, but they are well liked. They have the ability to breathe either fire, ice, or poison by creating a chemical in their brain that transfer to the lungs from molecules being sped up and then breaths it out like a dragon, hence the name,” Jin explained, looking away from the Heads to turn back to the others. “They basically mix gas and oxygen through their brain and release it. Rank 4, Combat.”

Jimin felt cold all over. He could only stare in horror. He wasn’t like them, and he knew it. Yes, some part of him knew that there was other powers out there beside his own, but he wasn’t expecting powers like these.

Tae was always gushing about Jimin’s but JImin felt like his was a child's compared to something like Yukimura’s. He wanted to run, to get out of here, and go home. He wasn’t a fighter, he wasn’t anything like this. This was crazy.

How was he supposed to fight something like that? He could barely control his powers, maybe got a punch or two in on the muscle pig, and maybe hit the target a few times on a good day. Tae was always laughing at his survi val instincts gone wrong.

Jimin made a move to back away, already shaking his head, but he merely ran into a chest and arms wrapping around him to keep him still. He knew instantly who it was basing on the scent that swirled around his senses and the feeling of tingles going through him.

“Yoongi, let me go,” Jimin bit out, but the male only tightened his hold around the younger's arms and kept them locked in place. Jimin sighed, annoyed and desperate as he jerked his body but still the other didn’t let go. “Yoongi!”

“You aren’t running from this.”

“What the hell do you know?” Jimin snarked, stopping his struggling as he sent a glare to nothing in particular. “I am not running. I just don’t belong here.”

“You blew up our entire fuse box and all the devices with it. I say you belong here,” Yoongi deadpanned. Jimin sighed, finally stopping his struggle as he rolled his eyes and grumbled, After a moment, Yoongi released him and cautiously stepped back, ready to catch him if he made a run for it. “Why are you freaking out now?”

“A fucking Shadow? Dragon Breath? The fuck?”

“Jimin, did you really think there wasn’t other powers out there?” Yoongi asked, looking 100% done with Jimin’s shit as he arched a brow and pursed his lips. Jimin groaned, throwing his head back and stopping his foot.

“It’s not that! It’s just… I am not use to this shit! This is… scary alright? I’m scared! I am not much of a fighter! I just… I just… I am not this!” He gestured wildly to the people milling around, towards the Heads who were finally leaving and heading back towards the weapon tent, and the other Sparks messing around. “You are! You can sit there and shoot guys and shit and I can’t! I just… this is stupid.”

“I would think you were stupid to not be afraid, but now isn’t the time for this. Yes, they have powers. Welcome to the world of Sparks.”

“That is not helpful, Yoongi,” Jimin snapped, irritation riding his system. Yoongi sighed and shook his head, touching Jimin’s shoulder gently. Sighing to himself, he turned his eyes away. “Joon hyung was right. This is a bad idea.”

“Let’s just go. People are gathering for the first match,” Yoongi told him, eyes locked on the group of Sparks starting to gather around the resting tent where the Korean Head, Pok Songmin, was standing front and center.

Jin was already glancing at them as they headed for the front, and Yoongi grabbed Jimin’s hand, only to pull back with a small hiss. Flushing in shame, he pulled the rest of his sleeves down as they hurried after the others.

As soon as Jimin stepped close to Tae, the other boy inched himself closer and pressed his shoulder against Jimin. The ash blond gave a grateful smile at the affection and looked over at Namjoon, who was watching him carefully. Unable to stand his gaze, he looked towards the Korean Head- the reason for being here.

“The first match will be Single only. There will be no teams and real weapons will be used,” Songmin stated. His voice held a thick satoori accent that took Jimin by surprise, but he kept it to a minimum. “There are twelve Factions here- we even have a gust Faction from America. For the first match, one member from each Faction will fight.”

Mumbling went up through the crowd, feet shifting and the air filling with challenge. Namjoon’s mouth ticked, his brows knitting together as he crossed his arms over his chest, looking thoughtful. Jin suddenly gasped, a scowl crossing his features, drawing his husband's attention.

“Namjoon! He is planning on forcing Jimin into the Ring first!” Jin hissed, anger clear across his face as he made a move, but Namjoon grabbed his arm, pulling him back. Jimin’s vision tunneled at the words, Tae’s worried gaze searching his features. “He’s going to sound a specific order to for Bangtan to send in the newest! Namjoon, they are using real weapons in this battle!”

“There’s nothing we can do, Seokjin. It’s his orders,” Namjoon whispered, but it was strained, emotion clouding his voice as he turned back to look at Jimin, who stared back at his leader with wide eyes.

“The Match will be held in ten. Choose the member for your Match and then choose your weapons. The rules will be stated in ten, and then the game will begin. Kim Namjoon-ssi. I have a request for you,” Songmin called out, turning his dark, cold gaze towards Namjoon.

“Request my fucking ass,” Jin snarled under his breathe. Namjoon bit back a bitter smile as he leaned down to gently kiss Jin’s head before nodding, stepping through the throng of people to head towards the Head.

Tae gripped Jimin’s shoulder, looking enraged. “They can’t do this. He has never fought in a Match before. Hyung, they will cream him,” Tae stated. Jimin stared at the grass, disbelief coursing through his veins like a high. He was glad Tae wasn’t touching his skin, otherwise he might be bacon. Again.

“They sadly can do this, Tae, sweetie. No matter how much I dislike this,” Jin sighed, looking a few years older as he watched Namjoon speak to Pok Songmin. The other groups have started to group together, speaking among their Faction. Jin turned to Jimin. “Jimin, baby, listen, this… this is a training session okay? You have to fight them. They won’t kill you, but they aren’t playing around either. They are here to test their strengths.”

“I… I…” Jimin stammered, feeling his lip tremble. Jin couldn’t read his thoughts, they were too jumbled from the panic and fear coursing through his veins. He didn’t know how to help. “Why are they doing this to me?”

“Chim Chim,” Tae cooed, pulling Jimin in his arms and back hugging him, being extra careful to not touch any of his skin. Jimin kept still, but he could feel Yoongi watching him, just like he could feel the olders rage. “You’re going to be fine! Hey, you can always hide out like I taught you? And you can always electrocute anyone who touches you!”

“Tae, love, I don’t think you’re helping,” Jungkook whispered, noticing the distressed look on Jimin’s face. Tae frowned, mumbling a soft ‘oh’ as he settled for hugging Jimin tighter. Jungkook looked back at Yoongi, noticing the obvious anger that was attached to his face. “Hyung, you alright?”

“What the fuck is Songmin thinking?” Yoongi hissed. Jungkook sighed and turned away, leaving Yoongi to dwell in his anger. Jimin looked up, steeling his innards as he caught Yoongi’s gaze. There was so many emotions there, burning and churning dangerously within his dark eyes.

Determination flooded him, pulling his thoughts together slowly, stitching himself to think about the fact he wanted to be better. Breathing in slowly, he imagined Jihyun, his smile and his teases, and then he pictured Baekhee and her mirth filled laughter. He imaged Bangtan- him nestled in the middle.

He wasn’t going to let them down. He wasn’t going to keep doing this. He wanted Yoongi to look at him like he wasn’t a child, instead of looking at him now with that unreadable, angry expression.

Before he could say anything, Namjoon had come back over and was giving Jimin a sad look. “Jiminie….” he breathed but the other only shook his head, offering a small smile. Namjoon blinked as Jimin straightened his shoulders.

“It’s okay, hyung. Just… help me pick out a weapon?” Jimin asked, a little unsure. It felt bizarre to say that, and he never expected it once, but if he was going to do this, he was doing to do this right.

The group paused for a moment, shock filtering out across their faces, but Jimin didn’t care about them. He kept his eyes locked on Yoongi, whose head jerked up and dark eyes wide and mouth slightly agape as he searched Jimin’s face.

“Five minutes!” Songmin shouting, watching as each team had a member approach the weapons and choose a few before standing in front of their Faction with a eager smile across their faces.

The nerves returned, but he kept them buried deep within his gut as he looked away from Yoongi to meet Namjoon’s bewildered, but somewhat proud stare and slight smile that was hinting at the dimples the male had.

“Jimine, are you sure about this?” Tae asked, touching his shoulder as he noticed the slight flash of fear through his eyes. Jimin looked over, offering his eye smile as he hugged Tae quickly, breathing in the fruity scent of his best friend. Tae grinned and hugged back. “You got this. You’re stronger than you think.”

“Thanks TaeTae,” Jimin replied, pulling away as Tae pressed his forehead against Jimin’s and gave a breathless laugh. Grinning, Jimin took the moment to soak up the warmth before pulling away and stepping next to Namjoon. “What weapons should I chose?”

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, but instead grunted, closed his mouth, and walked briskly towards the resting tent where he settled on the bench and stared out at the hills. Jimin caught sight of it, but ignored the hurt in his stomach as he followed his hyung to the tent.

“Pick a gun. The others would be sure to choose one, so you should do the same,” Namjoon said, eyeing the gun table and picking up a black .9 Glock and checking the bullets. Jimin stood still, just letting the older choose for him.

Namjoon handed it to him, putting it within the waistband of his jeans and slipping some extra ammo into his pocket. It felt heavy and the gun felt cold, sending a frightening chill to race down his spine. He hated it. But he bit his lip and nodded.

“Do not be afraid to shoot, Jimin. They will not hesitate to the same. Remember, Sparks come here to test their strength and put their training to use while not being fully on the battlefield.” Namjoon glanced up at Jimin’s face, taking in the fear, the determination, and the purple lightning across his skin. “Don’t be afraid to use your power here. Use it. Discover things. Don’t hold back. Blow shit up for all I care.”

“So… become you?” Jimin teased. Namjoon paused, huffed, and rolled his eyes.

“Funny. Real funny.”

“Don’t think I don’t know about the fact I know about the refrigerator you broke, all the sunglasses, and how Jungkook hides all his figurines from you and how Yoongi is the one that fixes everything,” Jimin continued, giggling as he remembered Jin doing a ten minute rant about Namjoon and his habit of breaking everything. And Yoongi added that he hid all his valuables from the God of Destruction. A wicked smile at another thought that popped in his brain. “And the fact that you had to buy more handcuffs since you broke the last pair and the need for a new bed.”

Namjoon only made a choking sound in the back of his throat, cheeks heating to a  enamouring pink as he squeaked and ducked his head. Jimin broke into laughter, thoroughly enjoying the embarrassment from the older as he grinned, proud of himself.

“Damn it, Seokjin,” he muttered, but keep grabbing things for Jimin, who followed behind feeling a lot more at ease. A smile wouldn’t leave, just like Namjoon’s red cheeks, as Namjoon paused over a taser. “I don’t think you will need one of those, huh?”

“And you thought I was funny.” Namjoon shrugged at him, but was giving a cheeky smile. Jimin made a chuffing sound in the back of his throat, shaking his head before Namjoon continued down the line.

“Here is a dagger. Keep in your belt.” Jimin obeyed, taking it and placing on the loop where Namjoon gestured before he was handed three thinner knives he recognized as throwing knives. “Keep these close. Here, put them in here and attach it to your thigh.”

Jimin followed orders quietly, linking the black velcro to his thigh and tightening it almost to the point of pain, then slipping the small daggers into place with shaky fingers. One knife slipped between his fingers, and he cursed silently, but Namjoon picked it up and slipped it into the slit for him.

“Jimin, are you sure about this? I can try and-”

“Namjoon,” Jimin said, dropping the honorifics. Namjoon fell quiet at the firmness to Jimin’s voice as he met the smaller gaze, carefully observing him as Jimin offered a tiny smile. “I am a member of Bangtan, aren’t I?”

“Of course you are. You really made this group,” Namjoon answered, sounding aghast. Jimin gave another smile, nodding. It felt good to hear that- his body was singing at the words. He craved to hear that he was wanted somewhere.

“And as a member of Bangtan, I need to do this,” he answered, like it was that simple. In a way it was. He was wanted here, but he was also needed here. Hobi told him, Tae told him. He couldn’t deny he could see it to. “So, don’t worry about me, hyung. I’ll do this.”

Namjoon was quiet, and Jimin didn’t mind. He could see the gratitude shining in Namjoon’s eyes as they both turned and headed back to the group, Jimin taking his place in front of the group, glancing at the eleven others he would be going against. He was shocked to see Nicole among them, her green eyes equally surprised.

He offered a little smile to her, that she returned, before they both faced Songmin, whose eyes trailed over him. Jimin squirmed, disliking the attention as he kept his gaze lowered as Songmin finally trailed after the rest of the line.

“The rules have remained the same. Powers are encouraged. There will be no killing, but you are allowed weapons. Each knock out you do, is a point to your Faction. There will be no teams, no cheating, and there will be no attempted murder. If someone is seriously harmed, a Mender will be on sight. Fight with honor, gain your strength.” The fighters cheered, but Jimin remained quiet. He felt like he was going to be sick. “You will head in one at a time, three minute interval. First one head in now.”

A girl, who looked to be Korean, offered a cold smile, small, lean body layered with weapons and her eyes cold as she darted into the maze, the wood barriers seeming to be a bit higher. Jimin swallowed thickly.

His stomach was heavy, churning dangerously. He was shaking, the purple lightening skittering across his hands. He wanted to run, but he made a promise and fuck if he wasn’t going to follow through with it.

Nicole was suddenly by his side. He jumped a bit, blinking to focus on her features as she offered a little smile. “Jimin, right? The Empower Namjoon Oppa was talking about?” She whispered, smiling reassuringly. He nodded quickly, feeling more like a bobble head then anything. She didn’t seem to mind. “Nice to meet you. Sorry for earlier- I was unaware about Hoseok being in his Faction.”

“What was that about anyway?” Jimin managed out, using this conversion as a distraction from the second one, a male who also looked Korean or possiblie Chinese, darting into the maze and disappearing from sight.

Nicole gave a breathless laugh, reaching up to remove the hair bow from her reddish brown hair and let it cascade across her shoulders. Jimin took a moment to realize she held no weapons on her, and still was barely wearing clothing.

“Hoseok and I… grew up Homebound together. I was his big sister's best friend? Though she treated me like I was her child,” Nicole explained, tying her hair back up. “But things happened and we got separated. I thought he was dead and it seems he thought the same.”

“Oh. So… he thought…?”

“I wasn’t there when things went down and I am assuming he thought I became Iron Clad.” She gave a sad shrug, looking a bit like a lost child. “It wouldn’t be the first time, you know? But really, I lost my family too and I barely got away. I was found by a Carnal and soon, shipped off to America where I joined a Faction.”

Jimin smiled, intrigued by the story. “That was mighty brave of you,” he responded. Nicole smiled back, eyes looking over at the entrance of the maze, and the smile instantly faded. Instead, she looked thoughtful. “What is it?”

“Jimin, listen, as soon as you step into that arena, you will have twenty seconds before a gun goes off and it starts,” Nicole said, turning back to look at him fiercely. Jimin swallowed thickly, but listened. “Don’t stop moving. Just go. Move. Also, people might target you. You’re new, and not many will know of you being an Empower, but some will. Keep moving, and be careful. Fight back. Understand?”

“Why… why are you telling me this?” Jimin breathed, grateful, but confused. He looked back to see the fourth heading into the maze, and his stomach felt heavier than before. Nicole gave a little shrug.

“I haven’t known Namjoon Oppa long, and I never call him Oppa to his face, but he has helped me a great deal with certain things, and he cares about you. Therefore, I wanted to help you,” she answered, glancing over at Namjoon and the others a few feet away. She smiled at them before looking back at Jimin. “This isn’t just a game to some people. Take it seriously. Fight with everything you got.”

“Nicole-”

“Most people call me Nikki.” Jimin paused, eyed her wearily, before nodding and offering a smile.

“Nikki, what else can you tell me? I want to learn and I want to make Bangtan proud. I need this,” he admitted. Nicole’s smile only broadened as she nodded.

“First, there is no teams. I am not going to lie, if I see you in that arena, I will fight you. I want to test myself against someone like you. Yeah?” Her green eyes flickered across his, watching to see his reaction. He nodded slowly. “Second, anything goes in this game Jimin. There are no rules other then no killing. Keep your eyes peeled and back protected. Keep moving. Pay attention to your surroundings. Fight dirty.”

“It seems a bit unfair. You know what I am, but I don’t know what you are,” Jimin said after a few moments of quiet, letting the information soak into his mind while his nerves thrummed louder, enticing his lightning to dance a bit harder.

Nicole chuckled, cocking her head to the side in a very animal-like gesture as her eyes soaked gold, the pupils darkening a bit. Jimin’s breath caught in his throat as he stepped back, mouth agape.

“I’m a Shifter Spark. Wolf type, so Combat,” she explained, eyes seeping back to their normal green. Amazement darted across Jimin as he stared at her a moment, a slow smile crossing his features.

“That’s really awesome. I never really thought that would be a power though. I thought Sparks were mind based powers?”

“They are. A shifter’s power lies with the fact that the mind is connected more to that of an animal and has let the host’s body adopt the traits of the mind’s animal. It seems weird but it works,” she explained simply, just as another ran into the maze.

Silence lapsed between them, the nerves hanging over Jimin causing him to stare absently at nothing. His mind was jumbled again, running over the advice she had given when suddenly Songmin gestured to her.

After glancing back at him one more time, nodding her head in encouragement, she darted off towards the entrance and slipped inside. Jimin watched her go, feeling the way his blood was pounding in his ears, blocking out all other sounds.

He wanted to laugh, because the first thought in his mind was he wanted to hold Yoongi’s hand. He wanted the gruffness and the coldness that made up the elder but had somehow become a comfort to him.

He flashed back to the train, where he thought about the fact he knew he was starting to fall and shook off the feeling. He had to focus. He would put what he learned to use and for once stop being a coward.

That still didn’t stop his eyes from searching. They flickered over the heads of black and brown, going past the odd sights of things floating or pieces of the earth growing much too fast to be normal, and landed on the inside of the tent where Yoongi still sat, eyes locked on the sky.

The rest of the members that stood behind him gave an encouraging smile, Tae bouncing up and down and screaming his name. No one really seemed bothered and Jungkook was watching with his bunny teeth on display.

‘Don’t defend yourself. Defend them.’ Yoongi’s words filtered through his mind, and he breathed out slowly before turning back towards the entrance. He bent down, waiting for the signal.

Everything felt as if he was going in slow motion. Songmin moved his hand, and Jimin darted into the maze. The wood barriers were tall, looming over him like an ominous warning as they twisted and turned, holding secrets through sharp turns and little passages.

The corridors were wide, and it didn’t take a genius to know it wide so you have room to fight. The grass under his feet was short, cut for the occasion, and he moved with the light feet of a dancer as he just ran blindly. Every wall looked the same so he didn’t try to keep track of where he was.

His heart was pumping so loud in his chest he wondered if there was any super hearing Spark’s nearby who could hear it, his breathing ragged and tearing viciously through his throat as his wide eyes gaped at everything he could see.

The countdown was slowly going down in his mind, urging his wobbly legs onwards, and darting this way and that, attempting to bury himself further in the maze as the numbers dwindled.

Sweat had broken out across his skin, glistening in the cool air as he flanked right, then switched back to left at the next dead end. He felt like a mouse, perpetually lost in a maze and running from the tom cats eager to swallow him whole.

Huffing out a little air from his cracked, dry throat, he paused and looked around the slightly open area with wide eyes, taking in the three different routes he could take or veer a bit backwards for a new take. Unease made his skin icy, while he still felt hot.

A crack sounded in the air, startling him a bit, as he stared up at the sky a moment. The game has begun.

Breathing shallow, he put his back up against the wooden barrier, letting the rough wood splinter against his hands as he looked around. Already he could hear sounds from somewhere in the maze- sounds of fighting.

A curse went through his mind, heart pounding faster, when something grabbed at his leg. Jerking his head down, a scream lodged in his throat when he saw a root, veined with dirt and other smaller roots, poking through the dirt and gripping his leg tightly, actually causing pain.

Panic blinded him a second as the root tightened its hold, slithering up to his calf and gripping his knee. His first thought was to scream loudly, but that would do nothing. The rational part of his brain knew a Spark was doing this.

His second thought was to take the gun from the waistband of his jeans and shoot it, but the third thought of him liking his leg stopped him  from doing that. Jerking his head up, groaning as he felt the root tighten further, restricting his movement and startling him by how much it hurt, he saw a male standing half hidden in the entrance of the third opening, hand out towards the root.

The man caught his eye and he smiled, urging the root up faster. It was painful, like anaconda wrapping around his waist. Taking his hands, he decided to say ‘fuck it’ and grabbed the root, shoving all the energy in it that he could.

The root cracked, crumbling in on itself as it charred and broke straight down the middle. Jimin shoved it away with shaky hands as he looked back up to see the man’s eyes wide in surprise. Darting away from the root, he made a move towards the man, but he seemed to be expecting that.

Another root shot out, grabbing his ankle in it’s harsh grip, and he tumbled to the ground. A grunt left Jimin’s lip as his body made impact on the ground. The man laughed, shaking his head.

“Already got one down,” he said, speaking in a bit shaky Korean. Jimin instantly pegged him as Chinese, the accent alone giving him away. His hands tightened and so did the root, but now the grass was growing longer, curling around Jimin’s wrist.

The panic was returning, breathing becoming more laboured, as he let out a small cry when thorns pierced his skin, drawing blood that he could feel soak through his pants. Thinking fast, Jimin placed his hands on the grass and did another blast of energy, but nothing happened.

Jimin decided to try another tactic. Ignoring the agony that raced up his leg when the thorns peeled away at his skin, he turned his body over and grabbed the root, sending the purple lightening into it. Like the last one, it shriveled and cracked.

Leaping to his feet, he grabbed his throwing knife, and just like he practiced over and over again, tossed it towards the male. The Chinese earth freak hoisted a branch from somewhere nearby, the dagger burying itself into the wood. As the man was tossing the branch away, Jimin charged.

Jimin wasn’t sure where the burst of bravery came from, especially since all he wanted to do was run away. His legs, arms, and parts of his waist were stinging with agony from the overly long thorns that pierced his skin. The blood was slowing from what he could feel, but the cuts remained there.

His chest hurt from where he landed, but he pushed all that aside to attack. He really didn’t understand what he was thinking- he was a flighter, not a fighter- but this time he followed something Kookie had done to him a million times in practice, but he himself had never tried.

He lunged forward, just as the branch moved away and the male turned back to face him, but he wasn’t fast enough. Jimin sent a punch straight to his nose. The man cried out as his nose broke on impact and his vision blacked for a second from the pain.

Running on sheer adrenaline, Jimin dropped down and kicked out the man's legs, letting muscle memory take over for him as he grabbed the dagger from his waist and held it inches from the man, blood running endlessly in spurts from his nose, tears streaming down his face, as he coughed, sending more blood up.

Jimin’s breathing was erratic as he stared in shock and horror at what he done, the grip on the dagger so tight his knuckles were plastered white. His eyes were blown wide, the electricity in his veins surging deliciously. He felt powerful, dangerous. The dagger acted a conductor, his purple streaks bouncing across the blade that was millimeters from the man’s throat.

The man peeled open his eyes, meeting Jimin’s panicked gaze, but before he could say anything, a woman appeared next to him. Jimin jumped, a yelp catching in his throat as she placed her hand on the man and they both disappeared.

One was out of the game.

Standing shakily, Jimin put his dagger back where he got it, thrumming with unused energy and adrenaline that was coursing through him. Swallowing, trying to add some moisture from his dry mouth, Jimin winced as he stepped forward.

Shaking it off, he turned and headed in the opposite direction the man came from, trying not to think about what he just did and focus on his task as he jogged through the maze. The sweat was clinging uncomfortably on his body, and he felt overheated, but he kept moving.

The sounds of other fights urged his jelly legs to keep going, not wanting to get whisked into another fight if he could avoid it, but luck was never really on his side. Weight was suddenly on his back, sending him to the ground when he felt something surge through his body. His eyes widened when he realized someone had tazed him.

Before he could say anything, he felt the way his body vibrated, excited at the added energy and a part of him was in pain. His vision blackened, head thrown back before it cascaded and burst from his body, sending purple lightning everywhere.

A scream came from the girl as she was thrown back, her back slamming against the wood. She hissed in pain, welts forming across her hands and the taser she had used lifeless on the ground as her veins burst.

Jimin had fallen forward, trembling like a newborn fawn. He felt drained, and yet energized as he huffed, fought for breath as the girl, who looked Korean, groaned, eyes a bit hooded as she glanced at him.

“Em...power.,” she breathed out, getting to her feet. Jimin scrambled up as her good hand shot up, instantly sending him flying into the air and crashing into the wooden barrier. The air was knocked from his lungs, agony racing up his spine and blinding him a moment as he collapsed to the grass.

His vision tumbled, gasping for breath, as the girl loomed over him. Her hands were littered with newly busted blood vessels, red and irritated. It was ghastly looking. Her dark eyes took him in as he fought to gain air, his back causing him pain.

She pulled out a dagger, moving to take the ‘kill’ but Jimin shot his hand out and gripped her ankle, slipping his fingers under her yoga pants and touching her skin. Her eyes widened when she realized what he was about to do and she kicked him off. A crack sounded in the air, his finger curling in at the force of her kick.

She moved back down to send the dagger into his leg but he rolled out of the way, scrambling to his feet but cried out when he put weight on his ankle. He hissed through his teeth, moving to make a run for it, but her hand shot out and pulled him back by an invisible force, slamming him back into the wooden barrier.

Without thinking, his hand shot out too, fear lacing his movements. Her eyes widened as a ball of purple electricity went straight for her. The hold on his body, pinning him to the wall, loosened as he fell forward a bit as she barely dodged the ball.

A part of him was screaming with joy- he finally did something useful with his power but it still wasn’t much.

Hissing through clenched teeth, the girl grabbed a dagger, the cold metal glinting in the sunlight as she lunged, dagger aimed for his chest. Jimin yelped when he felt it mar his chest, warm blood spilling from the cut and soaking his white shirt crimson.

Jimin grabbed her wrist, stopping the movement of the knife. Without meaning to, more lightening went into her arm, bursting blood vessels as she trembled, a scream tearing through her throat.

In her panic, her hand shot out and pinned him back against the wall. He groaned at the pain from his ankle, chest, and from where the thorns tore at his skin. His vision was blurry, his breathing echoing throughout his ears.

Squeezing his hand around her wrist, she screamed again before backing away, collapsing against the grass as she convulsed, purple lightening skittering across her body. Panicking, he moved to help her but the same woman from before appeared- his mind making a distant mental note that she was a Leaper- and they both were gone.

His stomach rolled, and before he could stop himself, he bent over and spilled his breakfast across the grass, acid burning his throat. Tears were burning in his eyes, and wondered why he was doing this.

Everything hurt. His mind was jumbled, his blood felt alive and his skin was tingling with anticipation. But the cut across his chest was still spilling blood, his back and ankle sore and throbbing painfully.

His heart hurt the worst.

Straightening himself back up, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and winced as more pain raced through his body. He felt battered and beaten. He wasn’t sure how much he could take, but he was determined. He had to do this.

It wasn’t just for himself now. He wanted to do this for Bangtan. For the family that took him in and for his brother he wanted to see. Maybe if he can do this, he can finally repay the guilt for what he had done to Baek. For leaving Jihyun.

Maybe even be strong enough for his father.

Breathing shallow, he bent down to grab his dagger and slip it back in the place where  it belonged, clutching his hurt chest to staunch the blood flow, he limped on. But it wasn’t long till the sound of footsteps in the grass reached his overdrive senses.

He turned quickly, body moving like Jungkook had ingrained into him, to raise his hands and protect himself. Standing a hundred feet away was Nicole. Her hair was down and wild, clothes not there- at all- and Jimin kept his gaze up. Her green eyes were hazed, and she had scratches, a few dagger cuts and more across her body.

Blood was on her mouth.

She gave a weak smile. “I thought I smelled you.” Her eyes dropped to his chest, then his hands still skittering with purple lightning. “Someone got you good.” Jimin, barely comprehending the plain Korean, gave a slow nod back but didn’t drop his stance. “Is it alright if we fight?”

“We have no teams, do we?” Jimin managed out, his voice shaky, dry and crackled pitifully. He hated the sound of his own voice, but Nicole’s wasn’t much better. The American gave a breathless laugh as she nodded.

“Namjoon Oppa was right. You have guts, once you use them,” she replied. Jimin didn’t know how to answer so didn’t, instead opting to watch in utter fascination as her body convulsed a second, before enlarging, shrinking, and landing on four paws.

There was no way to describe the transformation. It wasn’t a simple poof, there was a wolf, but it wasn’t slow either. It was precise, like watching each molecule race to catch up with her mind as she took the shape.

It was still odd to have a power to change your entire body, but he was quickly picking up that his body wasn’t normal either. A simple taze to the side and he was a atomic bomb practically. Electricity flew off his body- the same wasn’t far off for her.

Shaking out reddish brown fur that matched her usual hair color, but her eyes were golden, taking the same color and shape as earlier when she explained what she was. It seemed like such an odd power, but he was impressed.

Nicole raised her head, her wolf body on the gangly side, fur filling out a bit to match the colder air that was starting to head their way. She looked like a real wolf, if it wasn’t for the humanistic intelligence gleaming in her eyes.

Her lips peeled back, revealing white canines, a growl rumbling heavily through her throat as she lowered her body to the grass, gathering her legs beneath her. Jimin held his breath, letting his blood do the work for him, as she leapt up into the air with a terrifying snarl.

Jimin attempted to summon the ball of electricity like he did earlier, but instead he stumbled, his chest still aching from the cut and his vision blurry. Nicole sunk her teeth into his raised arm, a cry tearing from his lips.

It was anguish. He could feel her jaw around his bone, tearing at his flesh, and it brought instant tears in his eyes. Nicole was snarling loudly, and in defense to himself, he let the electricity straight through her jaw.

Nicole yelped, a loud howl screeching through the sky as she backed up, paw rubbing at her muzzle. Jimin’s legs gave out beneath him as he clutched his hurt, bleeding arm to his chest. His ears were ringing, head pounding, but he somehow managed to push himself upright.

Numbly grabbing for the gun, his fingers shaking as he pulled around and tried to aim at Nicole. His vision was too faulty, and the gun felt like lead in his hand, as the wolf’s head raised, her mouth a bit singed as she sent another snarl.

Before Jimin could fire, she dove for his legs, knocking them straight out from underneath him as he fell back to the ground. The gun slipped from his hand, and he shifted his body to grab it, but Nicole scooped it up in her jaw and tossed it away.

Grunting, ignoring the pain it brought, he sent his arm out and jabbed at her ribs, exposed a bit through her fur, and a yelp followed, but before he could move his hand back, her teeth raked across it.

Jimin flinched as she growled in his face, teeth making a move for his throat. He raised his hands, grabbing her open jaw but it did nothing. He tried to send more surges into her, but for once, he felt no humming into his blood. He felt woozy and sick, and so, his hands dropped back to his sides.

Nicole stopped, sensing his defeat and surrender, she pulled her head back as the ferocious face vanished and her ears lifted, lips dropping, and she appeared more like a puppy as Jimin laid there.

It wasn’t long till he felt someone touch his shoulder, and his vision blur a second before he was lying across one of the makeshift infirmary beds. He swallowed thickly, all he could hear is the sound of his own shallow breathing, as he looked at the other beds.

He saw the telekinetic girl he was fighting earlier, standing and perfectly fine, talking quietly with her Mender. It made him smile, knowing she was alright. Turning his head back to the other side, he saw Minho approach him with a cute grin plastered across his face.

“Hey there, Cutie. Long time no see, eh?”

“M-minho,” Jimin greeted, stumbling a bit with his slurred words. The Mender gave a bright smile, reaching out to scan Jimin’s body. Jimin let him, finding a bit of comfort from the familiar face and knowing Minho would take care of him.

“Seems like someone is a bit of a troublemaker, huh, cutie?” Minho asked, finally lifting his gaze back to Jimin’s face. Jimin gave a weak laugh, letting a smile play across his lips. Minho winked before gesturing towards him. “You aren’t too bad. You have a fractured bone in your wrist, a lot of cuts, and the dagger scarth. Don’t worry. I won’t let anything scar your perfect skin. Your ankle is a bit sprained and your back is bruised badly, but I can heal all of that. All in all, not bad.”

“Hey Minho…”

“Yes, beautiful?”

“When you are done, should I escort you back?” Jimin asked. Minho’s brow furrowed, hands pausing in heading for the injured areas.

“Escort me back where?”

“To the friendzone.” Minho’s face fell, deadpanning, as Jimin offered a sweet smile and giggled a bit as another Mender from somewhere nearby howled with laughter.

“Damn, Minho-ah! Need me to come over there and Mend that burn, huh? I like this Empower. He’s sparky!” The Mender laughed, snickering a bit while Minho rolled his eyes and flashed his fingers, but Jimin was still grinning as Minho met his gaze. He didn’t look the least bit angry.

“Gotta give credit where credit is due- that was a nice burn. You could outdo an Igniter, Spicy Cakes. I like that,” Minho said, this time reaching forward and grabbing his wrist. Jimin bit the inside of his lip to keep the pain inside as his touch brought a disliked pins and needles feeling. “You’re doing good. I know- this doesn’t tickle like with bruises. There. Done with this one.”

Minho was right. As soon as he pulled away, his wrist felt perfectly fine. It didn’t ache, it didn’t tweak. It was like it never happened. The process repeated a few more times for all of Jimin’s injured until he felt good as new, allowing his non achy body to sit up.

Minho stepped back, still smiling. “Feel better?”

“Much. Thank you, Minho,” Jimin replied, looking up to grin gratefully at the Mender. Minho nodded and shrugged. Jimin placed his feet back on the ground, standing and stretching out his muscles in relief and looked back towards the telekinetic girl.

Her eyes caught his a moment, holding steady as they examined one another. Finally she offered a half smile and little wave that he returned, bowing his head in respect. With a more genuine smile, she turned away and headed towards what he was assuming was her Faction.

“Better get going. You’re Faction is waiting on you- they aren’t allowed in the Infirmary,” Minho explained, already heading for the next Spark who looked pretty bad himself. Jimin nodded, sending a soft ‘thanks’ again before hurrying out of the tent and back into the sunlight.

Sparks were still milling around, some gathering in front of a Spark that seemed to be telling a bit of what was happening- Jimin was sure that was through her power since their wasn’t a TV around anywhere- and was nervously biting his lip as he kept an eye out for familiar bright hair colors.

Finally, he caught sight of the familiar hair colors and builds a bit in the distance, looking anxious and nervous as they hung around the resting tent, but wasn’t actually sitting. They stood huddled together.

It made Jimin’s heart flutter, because they looked like home. As if on cue, Tae’s head jerked around, eyes wide with happiness and pride as his bright rectangle grin could be seen even from this distance. The rest of them turned too, faces all a mask of different emotions.

A stupid grin crossed his features, and for the moment what happened in that Ring didn’t matter. He didn’t want to think about it. But seeing how Tae burst into a run, heading for his direction while screaming hi sname with Jungkook and Hobi right on his heels was enough.

Jimin opened his arms, glad that for once, the lightning that has plagued his life was down and it looked like regular old hands as Tae came crashing into him. He let out a grunt as they both fell to the ground, the much taller boy nuzzling him and hugging him so tightly he felt like he was back in the Ring.

“Jiminie! Holy shit! You did it! Holy shit!” Tae cried, lifting his head only long enough to catch a glimpse of jimin’s face before burying himself back in the folds of JImin’s bloodied, sweaty shirt.

“Jiminie! Congratulations!” Hobi shouted, falling down next to them to throw his arms around Tae, who nuzzled the sunshine in greeting as Jungkook kneeled next to the trio, nose scrunched in his cute bunny smile as he met Jimin’s gaze.

“Awesome job, midget,” he teased. Jimin rolled his eyes but snuggled up closer to Tae before finally, they stepped back and helped him to his feet, only to be swept up into Jin’s arms. Jimin squeaked but caught scent of vanilla and calmed instantly, hugging him back.

Namjoon patted his back affectionately, offering his dimpled smile when Jimin peeked through the layers of Jin’s hugs. “Good job, Jiminie-ah,” he told him gently. The words made a swell of pride bubble in his chest as he nodded and nuzzled back into Jin’s motherly hold.

“You did so well, Jiminie-ah! For your first time, that was pretty impressive,” Jin said, finally pulling away and ruffling his hair. Jimin whined and pouted, swatting Jin’s hand away as he giggled when suddenly Tae, being Tae, brought out eh elephant in the room.

“Yoongi hyung, you haven’t said anything!” He blurted, turning to look at Yoongi was standing a few feet away. Jimin instantly felt small again, the pride that was swelling in his chest shriveling like a grape as he looked at his feet, unable to face Yoongi quite yet.

He wasn’t sure why, but his approval meant just a little more than everyones elses. Yoongi was always harder on him, expected more, and Jimin in many ways respected him for it. The man didn’t coddle Jimin like the others did, and a distant part of him loved it.

But his mind was also reminding him of the butterflies in his stomach, happily fluttering about in hopes to be praised. Jimin ignored that part. That part was nothing to him. He knew he was just lonely and craved attention.

What he wasn’t expecting was a hand to rest on his head, giving a few pats. Jimin’s eyes jerked up to meet the soft, half smile of Yoongi, whose eyes never once wavered from Jimin’s round ones.

“You did good, kid.” Jimin’s heart sang, the smile he gave twisting his features and making his eyes disappear as he nodded his head happily. Yoongi scoffed and pulled his hand away, shoving it back in his pocket.

“We should go out and celebrate tonight! What do you say, Eomma? Can we go to that club that Hobi hyung knows?” Tae asked, turning to grab Jin’s arm and tug hopefully on it. Jin looked hesitate while everyone else's faces lit up.

“Oh, that would be wonderful. I could really use a good dance,” Hobi groaned, looking in bliss at the mere idea. At the word ‘dance’ Jimin perked up, already intrigued by the idea of going dancing. A club or street dancing was something he was well accustomed to since it was the only form of dancing Cheol or his father didn’t know about and it wasn’t a class so his father couldn’t nag.

Besides, Baek would drag him out to a club when he was really uptight, or street dancing like the last time he really hung out with her. It felt like another life. A life that was never his. It was weird thinking about the time before this. The time before Bangtan.

He wondered what going back now would feel like, and he realized that Hobi was more right than he knew. The normal life he knew didn’t match him anymore. After everything he has seen, done, and knows. This is his life now.

But having a night to just dance with his hyung, to be free, and not have to worry seemed like heaven. He could dance with his new friends, with his family, without having to be afraid of his father, or Cheol telling him he wasn’t pretty enough, or good enough.

“Dancing?” Jimin whispered, turning to Hobi with what he was sure was heart shaped eyes. The Empath laughed lightly, nodding.

“Oh, that’s right. You mentioned that you were a dancer. There is this club around this area that I know. A Seer friend of mine works as a bouncer here and let’s me in. It’s a huge club and a lot of underground dancers, rappers, and such go there to let loose. I use to come to place to dance,” Hobi explained.

“You sure do know a lot of people, hyung,” Namjoon commented drily. Hobi flushed and shrugged, but Jimin was grinning as he turned to look at Jin with hopeful eyes. That sounded like fun. He wasn’t a big club person, don’t get him wrong, but right now the idea of finally dancing was one he was going to leap at.

“Hyung, please! Can we go? Please!” Jimin begged, even stooping as low as turning full aegyo on. He jutted out his lower lip, widening his eyes and fluttering them cutely. He couldn’t aegyo- he knew it. Jihyun and Baekhee loved to remind him of that, but somehow he still managed to get away with it when he attempted at least.

Jungkook and Tae burst into laughter at his attempted aegyo, and Jimin himself was trying not to lose it but even Hobi cracked and started laughing. Namjoon shook his head, looking away like he could bare to watch.

Jin pursed his lips, eyeing the three youngest before sighing, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. But no drinking. I don’t want to deal with a drunk Taehyung again.” Taehyung instantly started whining, Jungkook giggling again as he comforted his boyfriend.

“Oh, come on hyung. Can’t we drink a little? I could use some loosening up,” Hobi complained, flashing puppy dog eyes at Jin. Jin wavered a second before sighing, giving in. Hobi beamed as everyone cheered. Jimin smiled.

He wasn’t a big fan of alcohol. He never found the appeal of drinking so much till you couldn’t remember anything so opted for never really drinking. He wasn’t really going to change that tonight. He wanted this to be memorable.

Jin looked relieved. “At least one child is good.” He shook his head before glancing over at the next challenge. “Well, I think I might get in on the next fight. Tae, you with me? I think it’s teams.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Chapter Text

Jimin was being stupid. He knew it with every fiber of his being, but he just didn’t care. He was tired. He was so fucking tired, and for once in his life, he wanted to forget.

The music was blasting so loud, it banged against his ear drums, and the smell of bodies all combined together was overwhelming. Smoke and alcohol burned in his sense, tangling with the perfume and sweat that mangled in the air to dance with the beat of the bass that shook the whole large, dome shaped club.

Everything was too much. The lights were off, the only thing letting everyone see was the odd colored lights that reflected off the dance floor where bodies were swaying and grinding, and alcohol riding their systems along with whatever drugs were being passed around.

He was being stupid, and he knew it from the worried stares of his best friend that flanked his right, watching as he downed another shot that burned his throat and made his vision fluttered.

He felt light headed, his shoulders less heavy, and his worries buried under the alcohol curdling in his brain, silencing the dirty, pain filled thoughts that resided there. But it wasn’t enough. It was still there, behind his eyelids. Branded. He needed to forget. Forget the pain, forget everything.

He was so fucking tired.

“Jimin…” Tae whispered, moving to take the small glass filled with clear, fervent liquid from him, but Jimin hissed at him, too far gone to care about Tae’s hurt look or the way his hand dropped back to the table. “Jimin, you’re drunk.”

“Not fucking drunk enough,” Jimin snapped back, regretting the way his tongue was loosened by the alcohol, but also relishing the freedom it gave. He was always so tight lipped, so refined and afraid. So mousy. But now… he felt good. He felt like he could say anything.

“What the fuck happened? Jimin, what is wrong with you?” Tae asked, a bit of anger tinging his voice as Jimin drank another shot, downing it and still wishing he had more. He still remembered. He still… remembered.

“This is  gonna be so much fun,” Tae gushed as they piled into the taxi. They were all dressed for the club, in flashy clothes or something tight. Jimin not far off the mark either. Their makeup was done by Jin, who looked proud of himself as they set off.

Jin was looking really good. He was wearing light wash jeans with tears lining up his legs. They hugged him well, showing off his slim waist and broad shoulders from his white shirt that rode up a bit to expose a bit of his flat, slightly toned stomach.

Namjoon sat next to him, looking just as good. His silver hair was gelled up, exposing his shaved sides and wearing black loose jeans, white vans, a black button down silk shirt with a black tailored jacket. He had simple kohl lining his eyes, giving him a darker look.

Hobi was the most simple of the group. Black boots, black ants, a graphic loose shirt with a black leather jacket to match. His hair was styled to expose his forehead, giving him a different feel and honestly, Jimin was impressed by the Empath dancer.

Taehyung just looked stunning. His dusty grey hair was slightly crimped, a silk red shirt loose around his form and tight black pants. He had dangling earrings, silver and chained. His makeup was on the lighter side.

Jimin was surprised. Jungkook was more subdued in his clothing choice. Loose jeans, hung low on his waist, a tight black shirt to stretch over his muscled body and timberland's. Jimin would love to say that he was surprised, but he wasn’t.

The conversation was short, everyone too excited to have a night to themselves as they bounced and hummed in their seats. Jimin was fiddling with his phone, waiting for the usual text from Jihyun about his day, and growing more and more anxious when it never came.

He kept his eyes out the window, watching as Daegu passed and Taehyung and Yoongi would point out landmarks they knew or speaking of a small memory of the place. Jimin loved to listen, enjoying how both boys were letting their satoori slip now that they were back home.

Yoongi wouldn’t say much, just that he knew the place but he left it at that. Jimin didn’t mind, it was still something, and he was really trying to ignore just how fucking good Yoongi looked. HIs white hair was fluffed up, purple and black liner lining his eyes and his clothes black and tight.

Jimin knew his gay was showing, but damn, Yoongi looked amazing in tight leather pants, black vans, and an equally tight white shirt with a leather jacket. Jimin could make out the very lean muscles shifting from under his shirt and he wanted a taste.

His phone buzzed, and relief surged through him as he fumbled with it to eagerly read his brothers message, but the relief was short lived when his heart dropped at the name. His father. His father had texted him.

Dad: Jimin, I know you are reading this. Jihyun has told me about you going off to be a underground dancer. I also know of your personal afflictions and I want no more of your flings running around my house again. You are not my son. I never wanted a gay piece of girly trash to be my son. I should have divorced your mother and had a true hier long before this, but I had Jihyun. I am disowning you. You are no longer a Park and you are no longer my son. You and your bitch of a mother. I don’t ever want to see you or your flings crawling around my home again. I will call the police and put you up for arrest for trespassing. I am cutting off your phone and removing your name from the family and having you only under your mother's. You are ugly, stupid, and a waste of space. You fuck up everything. I could never teach you anything. Why your mother adored you I will never know, but this was the last straw. After this message, you will be removed completely. You are never allowed to contact or see Jihyun again, or I will file a restraining order.

-Park Jihu

Jimin felt his entire world stop as he stared at the message, his heart feeling like it had been obliterated. Everything had been taken away from him. He was expecting the phone, but he never though his father would go through so much to even disown him.

It felt like a punch to the gut. Everything was hurting. But for once he wasn’t crying. He didn’t feel the familiar sting of his eyes. He just sat there, staring blankly at his phone like it was an alien to him. He felt numb, and yet, each breathe was a stab and each word circling his head like hornets.

Ugly. Fat. Waste of space. Not my son. Can never see Jihyun again.

He was a burden, he knew it, and for once in his life, he didn’t want to cry. He didn’t want anything. He wanted to forget. He wanted to be loved, and needed. He was so tired of feeling like trash, feeling like he was never good enough for anything.

Cheol used him for sex. He never admitted it to himself, but some deep part of him knew. He knew because Cheol would fuck him, but never look at him, never let Jimin touch him, and he would always have the lights off. He didn’t want to see Jimin. He was nothing more than being used.

Used. Used. Used. Then tossed to the side like a plastic bag.

His father used him just to use him, for the excuse of he was his son. He was always being used, but not anymore. He wasn’t going to do that anymore. But first, he wanted to forget. He wanted to forget who Park Jimin was. He wanted to forget for just a moment that he had a little brother, that he was nothing.

“Jiminie? Are you okay?” Tae asked, stopping the conversion to peer over at Jimin, whose face became a mask of emptiness. Tae almost gasped when he looked up, only to find Jimin’s usually dancing eyes to be empty.

Tae was a firm believer that eyes were the window to the soul. Every pair of eyes had a story, showed what the person was truly feeling, no matter what their face looked like. And Jimin’s eyes were empty, devoid of anything.

Jimin put his phone away, a smile on his face, but Tae saw through it and he wondered what his best friend  read on his phone. “Nothing. Sorry. What was happening?” Yoongi looked up from his own spot, looking concerned and worried but Jimin dropped it.

“Nothing fucking happened, Tae. Fuck off,” Jimin sighed, but he was sure his words were slurred. The alcohol was finally starting to weave its way into his mind. His tense muscles loosened and his mind stopped screaming.

For once, it was so quiet, and he loved it. The music was weaving into his body, loosening him further as he slid off the stool. The room was spinning, and the music was too loud, but he wanted to dance.

Tae watched him go, eyes wide and sad, and he was at a loss. He didn’t know what to do. He could only watch as Jimin wrangled himself on the dance floor, grinding and moving his body in a way that even had Tae shifting uncomfortable.

“Hey Yoons,” Hobi greeted, slipping onto the stool that was opposite the bar on the other end of the club. Yoongi looked up from his beer, his second one that he had been nursing and attempting to ignore the screaming of the crowds, the music, and the scent of smoke and sweat.

Yoongi was use to these scents, considering. But it felt foreign to him now. His thoughts were all wrapped up, and he absolutely hated it. All he kept seeing was Jimin. Jimin. Jimin. Park fucking Jimin.

He kept seeing the determination glinting his beautiful eyes, the eye smile that had a tendency to make Yoongi forget how to breathe, and the soft, supple skin that glowed in daylight.

He kept hearing his laugh, a bit dorky and yet breathtaking, echo in his head, along with the shyness that could turn sexy when provoked. He was drawn to the way he would always run his hands through his hair, or try to please everyone.

To the way he was so worried about him as soon as he stepped into that Ring. He launched himself to the nearest speaker and listened to everything that happened. He hated the fact that he was in there alone on his first one, but undeniable pride dashed it down when he heard that Jimin did it.

To say it was infuriating was frustrating. He wasn’t trying to get drunk, and he wasn’t going to, but damn if it wasn’t tempting. He just didn’t feel like dealing with the aftermath of it. Still, his thoughts were annoying.

“Hobi,” Yoongi greeted, taking another slow sip of the amber liquid as he cut his friend a glance. Hobi was watching him, his face a bit blank, and eyes earching his. Yoongi knew the male was reading him and couldn’t find it in him to care. “Do you need something?”

“Sitting here isn’t going to help you, you know,” Hobi started, smiling gently. Yoongi rolled his eyes, lifting his shoulders in a disinterested shrug. Hobi sighed and shifted closer so he could speak quieter over the music. “You’re worried.”

“Clearly,” Yoongi muttered, low enough to where Hobi couldn’t hear. He met his gaze and actually soke. “I really don’t need your shit right now, Hoseok. What do you want?”

“Jimin’s drunk. Taehyung is so worried for him and has been since the car,” Hobi stated bluntly, giving up on playing the game with Yoongi. A growl froze in Yoongi’s throat. It was bad enough Jimin showed up to a club wearing things like that.

Tight leather pants, a white muscle shirt that had too large holes where the arms are so it exposed a bit of his toned skin with a luckily a leather jacket over it since Jimin was too shy to really wear the shirt without it.

He looked hot, appealing, and Yoongi already hated the fact he knew he was going to get stares. It was stupid, his brain knew it, and so he ignored the urge to shove him back upstairs and dress him like a prude.

But Jimin drunk? In a place like this? That didn’t seem like Jimin. He already agreed to Jin he wasn’t going to drink. So getting himself drunk? Especially after that moment in the car where his face became this… it was like he lost all will to do anything.

“Listen Yoongi, I don’t know what is up with you and Jimin-”

“Nothing is ‘up’. He’s a good kid and that’s all.” Hobi shot him a look that screamed bullshit. Yoongi decided to ignore it. He didn’t have to explain himself. Hobi sighed and pressed on, ignoring the interruption.

“But whatever happened in the car… Yoongi I couldn’t read anything but despair. Deep, utter despair, loneliness, and self loathing.” The words made Yoongi tense up, more worry flooding his system that he didn’t want. “And I know Jin knows something, but he hasn’t said anything. Which begs the question… what happened to where even Jin is leaving him alone?”

Yoongi remained quiet, but his mind wasn’t. He didn’t want to look at the man he considered a very good friend, knowing he could read his emotions without even blinking and he hated it.

“I know you care about Jimin, and I’m gonna be frank, I do too. Jimin has helped a lot of people here. TaeTae… he has gained a friend that isn’t just Kook. I also know you refuse to show your caring to anyone, but Yoongi… he respects you. After that match, it was your praise he wanted,” Hobi continued gently, as if speaking to a wild animal. “Look, you’re a good person-”

“Really? Really, Hoseok?” Yoongi interrupted, turning narrowed eyes towards the Empath who fell quiet. “I know you avoided talking to me days after Jungkook spilled a part of my life. About me being a part of Iron Clad. I also know you are a major hypocrite. Smiling through your pain. Fuck that. You want Taehyung, and you are content to rot.”

“Yoongi!” Hobi cried, hurt across his face. Yoongi ignored it, but his heart hurt a little. He didn’t like hurting those he cared about, but he wasn’t about to let that go. It hurt when Hobi ignored him.

“You get on me about being open with people I care about. Shouldn’t you follow your own advice for once?” Yoongi questioned, this time a bit gentler. Hobi opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out so he closed it again and lowered his eyes.

“Does everyone know except Tae?”

“Pretty much- although not sure what Jimin knows,” Yoongi confessed. “Jungkook knows. I think he has know for a long time. But respects you enough to not say anything about it and he doesn’t hold a grudge.”

“Comforting,” Hobi muttered. Yoongi gave a half smile at the answer, taking another short sip of his drink. Hobi sighed and ran a hand through his hair, giving Yoongi a side look. “I’m sorry, okay? About ignoring you. I didn’t know how to handle you being…” He paused and looked down.

“It doesn’t matter now, Hoseok.” He meant it. It didn’t matter anymore. It was awhile ago. Doesn’t want to hold a grudge either. Hobi, though, still looked remorseful. Yoongi shook his head, just as Tae all but stumbled onto Hobi.

“Hobi, what is Jimin feeling right now?” Tae asked, a bit out of breathe as some of his dusty grey hair  damp with sweat and plastered to his forehead. Panic and sadness was swirling in his eyes as he glanced at Hobi and back towards the dance floor.

“TaeTae, you know I can’t feel a single emotion when I am surrounded by so many people. Besides, he’s drunk so I definitely can’t feel anything.” Tae cursed under his breath, shaking his head. Hobi looked worried. “Tae, what’s going on?”

“Jimin’s on the dance floor and uh… well he is certainly making an entrance,” Tae said, a flinch crossing his features as he glanced back at the dance floor. Hobi cursed before looking around. Tae sighed. “I’m gonna go find Kookie. Can you go find Jin? He might know something.”

“On it,” Hobi said, getting up from the table and throwing himself into the throng of people. Tae shifted and disappeared into the crowd while the music and cheering only got louder. Cursing, Yoongi left his drink at the bar as he slipped off the bar and shoved himself through the crowd.

Bodie grinded against his own, the music getting louder as he weaved his way through, coming to the center where he looked around. He hated the smell of overly sweet perfumes and colognes mixed with sweat.

He felt how people moved and bounced, nearly running him over, but he kept going, eyes peeled for a familiar frame of a smaller male, with stupid ash blond hair. Concern was welling in his being, and for a moment, he wished he said something earlier.

He knew something was wrong with Jimin. He knew and he didn’t do anything. He was starting to regret that now.

Finally, he caught sight of the small male, grinding down against two other males. His hair was sweaty and plastered to his forehead. His jacket was off, and no where around, so he was exposing tawny skin that was glistening and showing off lean muscles rippling under his skin from the exposed parts of his shirt.

He moved sensually, head thrown back to expose his throat, and rolling his hips to the music. He looked ethereal under the colored lights of the night, reflecting off his form. Every move was slow, well placed, and it made Yoongi pause.

He had seen flashes of this side of Jimin. The one where the shy boy was gone and replaced by a walking sex god to make almost any male bend over gay for a taste. There was something alluring about Jimin, desirable, and when he was dancing, it was something so much more.

Eyes were locked hungrily on the obviously drunk Jimin, his movements while still sensual and seductive, his hands trailing over his thick thighs and moving so slowly like a tease, but he was giggling, stumbling a bit, and his cheeks flushed pink even from this distance.

One male in particular took notice to Jimin’s moves, eyes locked on his ass and he came and pressed himself against Jimin, who drunk, only giggled and kept dancing. He didn’t seem to care as he grinded himself further onto the male’s crotch, letting him touch his hips.

A scowl twitched as Yoongi’s lips as he crossed the floor and grabbed the man’s wrist, wrenching it away from Jimin’s waist where he stumbled again. The man opened his mouth to start swearing in Yoongi direction, but he wouldn’t give him the chance.

“Do not touch him. Fuck off,” Yoongi snarled, watching as the complainant fell from the man’s lips upon seeing Yoongi’s enraged look. He frowned, but slipped away back into the crowd.

Sighing, Yoongi froze again when he felt arms slip around his waist, a well built chest being pressed against his back while hot breathe against his nape while the familiar scent of Jimin mixed with sweat and drink overrode his senses.

“Hyung~” Jimin slurred out, voice a bit lower than usual and sending goosebumps to race across Yoongi’s skin. Jimin felt good pressed against him, warm and flushed. But he knew he was drunk. “You saved me.”

“Jimin,” Yoongi warned, grabbing his wrist and gently prying the Empower’s arm off, turning so he can face the male. Jimin jutted his lip into a pout, dark eyes glittering and his cheeks a heavy pink up close. He looked adorable, but what caught Yoongi off guard was the blown irises. “Jimin, are you fucking high?”

“Oh, does someone actually care?” Jimin countered, head tilted to the side like a puppy as he giggled, wriggling his wrists from Yoongi’s grip and placing them on his shoulders. Yoongi swore he could feel Jimin’s touch burn through the cloth. A tingling feeling spreading through him and warmth.

“What do you mean ‘does someone actually care’? Of course people care. Taehyung is practically flipping out,” Yoongi replied, moving to remove Jimin’s hands, but he didn’t have to. Jimin threw his head back and laughed, but the sound wasn’t pleasant like it normally was. There was no butterflies flying in his stomach with this cold sound.

Jimin removed his hands as if Yoongi’s touch seared his, head cocked coldly to the side as his dilated eyes flickered over his being. Anger, sadness, hopelessness reflected through his dark eyes as he gave a sickly sweet smile.

“Oh right, silly me. Only Tae cares. Why would you right? What? Came over here for a lap dance, baby? Maybe to fuck me then ditch me? It should be dark enough in here for you to touch me,” Jimin said, stepping closer and dragging his hand across Yoongi’s clothed crotch. Yoongi froze, shock filtering throughout his system.

He grabbed Jimin’s hand again, wrenching it away as the desire pulled in his belly. Being touched by someone as sexy as Jimin was surely appealing, but he was drunk, high, and certainly not in the right mindset.

This wasn’t Jimin. He was cold, distant, and slightly terrifying by the way he didn’t seem to care. He was aloof and it made Yoongi’s heart ache in his chest as Jimin only laughed at Yoongi’s rough move, stopping him from going further.

“I guess I can’t touch huh? Not good enough for you either,” Jimin hummed, pulling his wrist to have it land back at his side, useless. Yoongi licked his lips, ignoring the churning of his stomach as he shook his head.

“Jimin, what the fuck is wrong with you? You shouldn’t say stuff like that,” Yoongi scolded, but he was sure his voice wobbled. He didn’t feel in control here. The room was pressing in on them, and he felt lost a second.

“Say stuff like what? The truth?” Jimin slurred, inching closer to Yoongi where he brushed his hips against Yoongi, rubbing himself against his leg. Yoongi almost moaned aloud at the contact, at the blissful feeling of Jimin. Jimin smiled, eyes hooded with lust and desire. “I wanna feel good, baby. I want to feel your cock buried inside me so deep that I can’t walk. I want you to fuck me. Come on, baby, fuck me.”

Jimin reached over and grabbed Yoongi’s hand, placing it across his fully erected cock, using Yoongi’s hand to glide over his obviously well endowed cock. Yoongi snapped out of his lustful trance, his own cock already half hard just merely at Jimin’s words, and he tore his hand away from him, who frowned.

“Jimin, you’re fucking drunk. Don’t do this. You will regret this in the morning,” Yoongi warned. That bitter half smile was back, twisting Jimin’s features and making him seem older, less like the beautiful young male he usually was, but worn and tired.

“I’m tired, Yoongi. I am so fucking tired and lonely. I wanna feel something again. I want to feel needed, is that so fucking hard? Am I really that repulsive no one can stand to touch me? Let alone let me have a family? Because I prefer dick over pussy and rather be fucked then do the fucking? Huh?”

Jimin had tears burning in his dilated eyes, trembling as the alcohol forced his lips to loosen and spill whatever thoughts had been plaguing him. Yoongi had the desire to pull him in his arms, lather him with kisses and tell him it wasn’t true.

But he wasn’t that kind of person. He didn’t do affection, didn’t know how to start it or offer it. He was never given affection and so how was he supposed to do the same?

“That isn’t true. Jimin, please, it’s late and you’re drunk and high and god fucking knows what else-”

Jimin huffed and didn’t let him finish as he grabbed Yoongi’s face and pulled him down, crashing his full, wet lips across Yoongi’s. Yoongi froze, disbelief coursing through his veins when Jimin proceeded to rub himself back against him. Jimin’s tongue forced it’s way into Yoongi’s mouth and stole his breathe.

For a moment, Yoongi sunk into the kiss. It was so… Jimin. He tasted of alcohol and whatever weed he had smoked from someone around, but underneath all that he tasted him. He tasted sweet, yet had a hint of clove that gave him spice and Yoongi was addicted.

His lips were soft, demanding, and his wet muscle was teasing, flickering about his mouth to explore like an eager puppy. His small hands were tangled within his hair, urging Yoongi to kiss him faster, harder.

It felt so good. Jimin tasted so right, his lips soft and eager. Yoongi found himself kissing back, nipping playfully at Jimin’s full bottom lip. He caught it between his teeth, tugging it gently like he has been wanting to do every time the younger bites it.

Jimin moaned deep in his throat, becoming putty in Yoongi’s arms as he slithered his arms around the younger’s waist, delighting in the feeling of his slim waist at his hands. Jimin didn’t seem to mind. Yoongi let his hands trail over his sides, feeling every inch of him now that he had the chance, and nearly went to his knees at the small mewling coming from Jimin’s lips.

When Yoongi pulled away, Jimin’s eyes were fluttering, lips pink and glistened with saliva, and Yoongi loved the effect he had on him. Jimin peeked open his eyes, breathing a bit laboured from the harsh kiss.

His hands were still on Yoongi’s chest.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time…” Jimin murmured, but Yoongi could barely make it out since it was so slurred. His heart raced in his chest, galloping like a thousand horses when Jimin reached up and touched his cheek. “You’re so pretty, hyung. You’re like a dream.”

“How much did you drink?” Yoongi muttered, slowly realizing what he just did. He shook his head, sighing, as he detached himself from Jimin’s hold ,away  from the way the younger was groping him.

“I wanna taste you, baby. I wanna feel your cock in me. Fuck me, please,” Jimin tried again, reaching for him. A part of Yoongi was hurting. Jimin didn’t want him, he wanted someone to fuck the pain away. He wanted someone to make him forget.

He could understand, but why did it have to be him? He didn’t want to be his toy. He didn’t want Jimin to wake up the next morning horrified because he fucked the wrong person. Fucked anybody with legs and a dick to sate his needs.

“No. I am not fucking you,” Yoongi stated firmly, no matter how bad the taste in his mouth got. Jimin’s face washed with despair before he moved to turn around and find a new partner who would, but Yoongi wasn't having that. He grabbed Jimin’s arm, dragging him back. “No. You aren’t going to do this to yourself. You aren’t like this.”

“What the fuck do you know? You don’t know me,” Jimin snapped back, irritation now squashing the desire that was there only moments ago. Yoongi liked the other one better, but he wouldn’t let his happen.

“Park Jimin, shut the fuck up and stop arguing,” Yoongi sneered back, gripping his arm harder. Jimin suddenly became docile, standing utterly still. Acid crawled up Yoongi’s throat when he heard something he wasn’t expecting. A sob.

Turning slowly back around, he was met with tears, a crestfallen expression on his face. They trickles like crystals across his cheeks. Gone was the sexy sex god/dancer to replace him with a sad boy.

“I’m not a Park… I don’t belong to anybody.”

“Jimin, what are you talking about?” Yoongi asked, shifting closer to hear him better over the screaming music. Jimin looked down at his shoes, a sniffle following. It was obvious he wasn’t going to answer when silence lapsed between them, so Yoongi sighed and bent down, holding out his hands. “Come on. Let’s get you home, kitten.”

Jimin didn’t argue. He walked numbly over to Yoongi, scrambling to crawl on his back. Yoongi grunted a bit at the added weight, thanking Jungkook- for once and never out loud- for the extra push ups as he made their way to the exit.

He could feel Jimin’s hair tickling his neck, his chubby fingers with the hem of his shirt as his arms wrapped around his neck. Yoongi felt like he was on fire, being touched by Jimin, but he kept quiet as they stepped into the cold of the night.

It was late, and he didn’t want to bother the others even though they were worried about Jimin. He was sure Jin was somewhere and would figure it out. Jimin just needed out. He walked towards the street, adjusting JImin’s weight with another small grunt.

“You should smile more, hyung… you’re pretty,” Jimin murmured through the slurs. Yoongi didn’t answer, but he heard soft snores. A smile tugged at his lips, and for once, he didn’t stop it.

 

*******

 

“Yoongi,” Jimin breathed, spreading his legs as a blush covered his cheeks. Yoongi smiled, slow and steady, as he drifted his hands up Jimin’s legs, pausing to tug at the skin of his thick, milky thighs. Jimin moaned, hands fisting the sheets as he looked up at Yoongi with hooded eyes.

He was lying across Yoongi’s bed, wearing nothing, and hair messy. Yoongi loved it, his cock hard at the mere idea of him as he laid there, bared just for him. His thighs on display, his cock curled on his stomach, twitching at the neglect and wishing to be touched, but Jimin knew better.

“So beautiful,” Yoongi murmured, taking him, sliding his hands back down to his calves and pulled him closer. Jimin groaned as his legs wrapped around Yoongi’s waist, while the older bent down and captured his lips.

He tasted so good. Yoongi rubbed Jimin’s thighs, gently getting closer to the most private area but skittering away as soon as he got close. Jimin was mewling against him, raising his hips to try and get more while Yoongi subdued his tongue, winning over his dominance.

Jimin’s hands tangled in Yoongi’s hair, tugging and pulling gently, moaning against his mouth. Shifting his tongue, he explored Jimin’s cavern, sliding his hand back up to press against Jimin’s hip. Goosebumps broke out across Jimin’s skin while he broke apart from the kiss.

“Yoongi…” He breathed, reaching for his cock that was dripping with precum. Yoongi slapped his hand away, growling low in his throat. Jimin stilled, breathing shallow and laboured as Yoongi leaned down and placed open mouthed kisses across Jimin’s hips, suckling and biting until purple marks were forming. Jimin was moaning against, fisting his hand in white strands.

“So, so beautiful. You’re mine,” Yoongi growled, biting particularly hard at his right hip. Jimin groaned, eyes fluttering as he breathed quickly. Yoongi loved it, soaking in the noises. He has never liked loud people in bed, but the sounds coming from Jimin were like angels singing.  

“Yours. Only yours,” Jimin promised breathlessly. The words drove Yoongi crazy. His pants felt tight, needing more of Jimin, but he wanted to take this slow. Explore every inch of the beauty in front of him, pleasure him senseless.

Reaching back up, he recaptured Jimin’s lips, slipping his hand down to remove his pants as Jimin moaned, tilting his head so that Yoongi can place wet kisses across his neck, fingers clutching at anything he could.

Grabbing the lube near by, he broke apart and slathered it across his fingers. Jimin was all but bucking his hips for friction, whimpering and whining for more. Yoongi smiled, shushing him with a soft, chaste kisses across his lips and neck.

Jimin stilled as Yoongi pressed his finger against his rim that fluttered in anticipation. “Ready, beloved?” Jimin nodded eagerly, biting his lip and shifting so Yoongi could reach him easier. Yoongi groaned when his dick twitched,wanting to be feel him.

Without another second, he eased one digit into him, letting Jimin’s walls caress him and greet him and it nearly drove him overboard as his own groan ripped through his throat. Jimin stilled, shuddering a bit at the intrusion, before he wiggled his hips, grinding himself against Yoongi’s hand.

“More. I want more,” Jimin whined. Yoongi began to move his finger, curling it inside and watching in delight as Jimin moaned and convulsed, begging for more. Slowly, Yoongi eased a second finger in, scissoring him gently to stretch him. “Please, babe, more!”

Yoongi soaked it in, adding the third finger as Jimin rutted himself against his hand, sweat already lining him and cheeks flushed pink as his eyes fluttered. He looked so gorgeous and already fucked out. His breathing was laboured and harsh, desire fluttering him.

His walls welcomed Yoongi so nicely, fluttering against his hand and it caused his dick to ache with the need to fill him. Leaning back down, he placed sweet kisses across Jimin’s thighs, offering love to them before inching him mouth a bit higher and kissing his stomach.

“So perfect for me, kitten, so perfect. Tell me what you want. You gotta tell me what you want, baby, so i can give it to you,” Yoongi breathed, wanting to please the younger beneath him, but he wanted to hear his voice. He wanted Jimin to want him,

Jimin lifted his head, breathing quick and harsh as he moaned lowly when Yoongi twitched his finger inside, but it wasn’t enough. He was scraping just barely at the bundle of nerves in the back, but it wasn’t enough.

“Y-you. I need you. I want you inside me,” Jimin pleaded, voice shaking with the desire coursing through him, tangling with the pleasure just his fingers were giving him. Yoongi grinned, capturing his lips in a  demanding kiss as their tongues tangled and he pulled his fingers out.

Jimin whined against Yoongi’s lips as the older pulled away, only to grab a condom and place it easily against his aching cock, dripping with precum and twitching eagerly. He lathered it lube, stroking it carefully as Jimin whined more, lifting his hips.

Yoongi grabbed his hips, stilling him before dragging him closer and placing his cock against his fluttering hole. Jimin gripped the sheets, sweaty hair across his face as he licked his lips. “Ready? You remember the safe word, yeah?”

Jimin didn’t answer out loud, only nodded and proceeded to buck his hips so that Yoongi’s cock buried inside him. Jimin let out a cry at the feeling of him, shuddering as he paused and let his body adjust while Yoongi threw his head back and let out a load moan, hands tightening around Jimin’s hips.

He thought he could see the stars. Jimin felt so, so good. He was clenching around him, inviting him in deeper, and he loved that Jimin all but slammed him against Yoongi, begging for him. Everything about Jimin was driving him crazy.

His moans, his scent, the way he ruts himself eagerly against him, the sweet smiles and laboured breathing. The way his hands trailed over him like Yoongi was the most beautiful thing. How he looked underneath him.

Yoongi had never been so attracted to someone before.

“Move, please, babe, move,” Jimin pleaded, voice cracking a bit. Yoongi nodded briskly, his own breathing sharp as he hoisted Jimin up, wrapping his arm around his waist and connecting their lips. Jimin didn't’ seem to mind because then Yoongi moved.

Yoongi started the pace slow, shifting so that Jimin was lying back down, thrusting slow and easing himself in as Jimin moaned and gripped his hair harder, nipping at Yoongi’s lips. Soon, he moved faster, feeling the way his core was building up as the pleasure nearly drive him wild.

Jimin was a mess under him as the scent of sex and sweat filled the air, skin on skin, as Yoongi pulled Jimin’s legs up, throwing them over his shoulder when Jimin let out a huge cry, shuddering in total bliss.

Yoongi had found his prostate. Moving faster, he made sure to hit it every time, watching as Jimin  unraveled with his touch. He couldn’t even open his eyes as Yoongi pounded into him, hitting his sensitive spot until the room spun.

His stomach was tight, inching him further and further to unraveling completely. He clutched to Yoongi with noodle arms, moaning a bit under his breath as his toes curled and he knew he was almost over the edge.

“I’m close,” he wheezed. Yoongi grunted, his own stomach tight and building with pressure and with one more loud moan from Jimin, he felt the way he was about to lose it. He reached for Jimin’s cock, stroking it a few times before he stumbled a bit in his thrusts. “Yoongi!”

Jimin came hard and fast, cum splattering across his stomach and chest as he screamed out loud. Watching Jimin’s face, Yoongi came right after. Pleasure coursed through him knocking him over as he moaned loudly, collapsing on his arm as he shuddered.

Jimin was nestled under him, legs like jelly and the rest of him not far behind as he reached up his arms and cradled Yoongi against him. Their flushed, sweaty skin pressed against one another was bliss as Jimin smiled sweetly.

“Yoongi…”

Yoongi awoke in a flash, heart racing and slightly out of breathe as he pushed himself up, only to realize his boxers were damp, the cotton clinging to him uncomfortably. He blinked in shock when realized what happened.

Not only did he have a wet dream about Park fucking Jimin, he didn’t even have to touch himself. The first one he was use to. It wasn’t the first time he had thought about Jimin in that way, but this was the first time for coming without touching himself and the dream itself was a bit… different.

Normally, he just dreamed about Jimin fucking him or him fucking Jimin. There wasn’t emotions attached. It wasn’t this… Extreme. It had felt so real. He could feel Jimin’s lips, could feel his warmth, and taste him.

Sighing to himself, he ran a hand through hi slightly sweaty hair as he glanced around the room to get his bearings, praying to whatever gods were up there that no one had witnessed his damnation.

It was the motel from Daegu that they were staying in overnight. The walls were crisp and clear, a beige in color, and it held a single twin sized bed pushing in the center with a nightstand that held a clock and a notepad with a phone.

A TV hung on the wall in front of the bed, clicked off and the remote nearby on the dresser where Yoongi’s duffel resided. No sunlight was filtering into the room since the curtains were closed, but the room was a bit bright which gave Yoongi a clue it was a bit late in the morning.

The floors were carpet, short and clean, and the bathroom was in the back. It was simple bathroom. A tub that was also a shower, a small toilet and some counter space with of course, a sink. The motel wasn’t grimy or bad, but modest and cheap. It was all Seokjin, and Yoongi knew it.

Of course, he was supposed to have the room to himself, but after last night that plan seemed to change. Jimin was occupying the twin sized bed. He was lying on his stomach, legs curled in and hand tucked under his cheek, causing it to squish up. His face was lax with sleep, makeup smudged and making him look like a cute, sleeping raccoon with squishy cheeks.

His blond hair was messy and stuck up in odd places from his sleep, his shirt riding up to expose his well defined chest and abs, his breathing soft except for a little snore that was soft, much like the boy himself.

Yoongi sighed, realizing he was sleeping on the couch, and was at least grateful the boy was knocked out cold from all the drinks he had last night and wasn’t awake to witness his disgrace.

Moving slowly, he frowned at the disgusting feeling of himself as he padded quietly towards the bathroom where he stripped down and got in the shower, trying to not let his mind wander back to the dream and just how badly he wanted that.

Not just sex, but that relationship with Jimin. He wasn’t a romantic, nor did he desire a boyfriend, but Jimin… Jimin was different. He thought at first he was just attracted to him. He was a very handsome and yet cute male, but the more time he spent with him, despite how annoying the brat was, he was a good person and beautiful in other ways too.

And Yoongi hated it. He really did. He didn’t want this, and yet he couldn’t stop himself. He should know better by now, hasn’t he learned anything? Sometimes it made him wonder. But looking at Jimin, he couldn’t hate him.

And after the kiss last night… he wasn’t sure he could stay away either. No one taught him what love was. He barely remembered his mother, maybe a touch here or there or a flash of a smile, but that was all. He was raised on his own, survived of his own free will and discipline.

Honestly, he would have been dead a long time ago, but he managed to survive until he was found by Iron Clad and taken in and then after that because of Namjoon. He didn’t really understand how it worked.

Sighing again to himself, leaning his forehead against the cool tile of the shower, letting the water cascaded over his back and burn into his skin, he closed his eyes. He could hear the way the water fell to the tiled ground and run down the drain and he wished it would take the confusing thoughts and feelings with it.

But still they remained.

Groaning to himself, he pushed it away. Now wasn’t the time for that and he wasn’t going to try. He wasn’t like that and it wasn’t going to change.

Putting shampoo in his hair, he ran through the routine like a well oiled machine. He worked quickly and with a blank mind, something he was particularly good at, and instead went through lyrics in his mind like a prayer.

It was all he knew how to do, write music and then write more. It kept his mind clear and without clutter and yet it was usually the thing that cluttered it.

After rinsing his hair, he got out of the shower and didn’t bother to glance in the mirror. He knew how he looked. He probably looked like a wreck after last night. So he toweled dry, rubbing his hair fiercely before wrapping it around his waist and paddling back out to the main room and dressed simply.

Loose jeans, a tee, and slipped on converse before tossing the towel back on the hanger in the bathroom and glancing towards the couch. There didn’t seem to be any remnants of what commenced while he was asleep and so he instead sighed and grabbed his black, leather bound notebook.

Jimin was still out cold.

Yoongi drifted towards the couch, dropping his pen and notebook and went to the coffee machine on the dresser, grabbed a plastic cup and filled it with water and the pain pills he usually packed with him incase he got a headache and placed it on the nightstand next to the bed.

He was cold and distant, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. The kid was gonna be having a really bad morning, and if he could help without any effort, why not?

Glancing back at the blond once more, a soft smile had wormed it’s way on his face at the angelic face that was still serene with sleep. There was just something about him. He was soft and sweet, yet sassy and bold. He was this contraction, and it made his heart skip a quick beat.

Looking away, he hurried back to the couch where he curled up and laid his notebook on the edge and lost himself to the words clouding his mind, letting his hand write them as they appear, forgetting everything else and just letting it happen.

He wasn’t sure how time had passed, but he was brought out of his trance with groaning and cursing from a gravelly, morning voice Jimin that did things to Yoongi’s heart and dick. Looking up through messy, mostly dried fringe, he saw Jimin clutching his head and whimpering like a kicked puppy.

“Fuck, my head,” Jimin murmured. Yoongi bit back a smirk as he lifted his head fully.

“That’s why you don’t drink your own body weight,” he remarked dryily. Jimin’s head whipped towards Yoongi, a curse flying through his lips when the world spun and sent him back against the bed in agony. “Easy there. Water and painkillers are on the nightstand.”

Jimin peeked open his eyes, which were a bit red and dark circles were joining the smudged makeup in making a small colony as he reached with chubby fingers towards the water and pills and downed it faster then Yoongi thought possible for the smaller male.

When done, Jimin sighed out in relief, drinking all the water before placing it back on the nightstand and laying back in the bed, looking around uneasily with squinted eyes. Yoongi watched him for a moment.

“So, what do you remember?”

“Plenty. I’m one of the unlucky people who seem to remember being drunk,” Jimin managed out after a moment of quiet. Yoongi smirked, unfurling himself from the couch as he gripped his notebook and drifted towards the bed.

Jimin kept his eyes locked on the ceiling, refusing to look over at him. Rolling his eyes, Yoongi grabbed the water and went to refill it, padding back over and holding it out. “Here. Drink up, cupcake. It helps.”

Eyes wide, Jimin sat up slowly and took the cup, sipping it slowly as Yoongi sat on the edge of the bed, facing away from him as he stared absently about the room. He could feel Jimin’s eyes on his back, scanning him carefully, and he didn’t care.

“Yoongi… about last night… I-”

“Jimin. I really don’t give a fuck what that was about,” Yoongi interrupted, not bothering to glance back and see Jimin’s face because he already knows it's red and filled with shame. “But what you did was stupid. And reckless. What if you were about to fuck some random person? Huh? And that person tried to kidnap you or something? What were you thinking? They could have been Iron Clad or something.”

“Are you saying you care now?” Jimin asked. There wasn’t anger attached, or any emotion other than curiosity. Yoongi huffed, glancing over his shoulder with narrowed eyes to meet Jimin’s pink cheeks and determined gaze.

“Why do you have this idea that I don’t care? Yes, I am an asshole. I will be the first to admit it, but that doesn’t mean I don’t give a flying fuck about you,” Yoongi snapped, turning away. “Besides, Jin would have my ass on a golden fucking platter if anything happened to you.”

“But would you care?” Jimin pressed on. Yoongi opened his mouth to snap at him again but Jimin shook his head, wincing a bit. “Please don’t yell. I am a really bad hangover. Look, it was stupid, okay? I know. I know that, but I really don’t wanna have you lecturing me on it. It was my choice and I made it. So why do you care?”

“You could have gotten hurt! Do you even fucking realized that if it wasn’t for me you could have been raped, or dragged outside, or been found by Iron Clad or turned in or some shit?” Yoongi growled back, attempting to keep his voice low, but his frustrations were growing. He wasn’t even sure when they got on this conversation or where it came from.

“You didn’t exactly seem to be complaining to me. In fact, if memory serves, you kissed back,” Jimin snarled back, the pain washing away from his features as he pushed his chest out and nostrils flared in anger as he glared at the older. “Why do you even care? You pushed me away and then dragged me out. What do you care if I go fuck someone or end up dead by Iron Clad? No one else does.”

Yoongi snarled, getting up from the bed and throwing his notebook down, internally yelling at himself at that but it was too late to take it back as he glared harshly at Jimin, annoyed and angry at the way the younger didn’t seem to care.

“You are intolerable. If your memory serves, it was you who came onto me and tried to fuck me, baby cakes, not the other way around. You would practically hump anyone near you.”

Jimin gasped, hurt breaking out across his features at the words and pang of regret went through Yoongi’s heart. It was a low blow, really, and he knew it, but he was angry and he wasn’t backing down from this.

“Tired of being lonely? Of complaining about your life so you go get drunk to try and wet your whistle for a night? Do you really think that being fucked by someone random is gonna make you feel better? That’s your problem. You think attention is the same thing  as love and oh, baby, that’s what's twisted.” Yoongi gave a huff after his tirade, his brain screaming at him to shut up, but his mouth hardly ever listened. This was one of those times.

Jimin was quiet again, tears glittering in his eyes but they didn’t fall as he pushed himself off the bed and slammed his hands into Yoongi’s chest, an ugly dry sob reverberating through his throat as Yoongi stumbled, but didn’t fall.

“You wanna know what is so fucking twisted? This whole ‘love’ thing. Like it’s bullshit! You fall in love and you literally fall. You crash to the ground so hard that your world rocks and I swear to god all your bones break. You’re fucking shattered but you don’t even notice because you’ve got this beautiful boy whispering in your ear and kissing your neck and nothing else matters!” Jimin cried, shoving Yoongi once more who could only stare in shock at the breakdown.

“Jimin, what-”

“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” Jimin shouted, voice shrill and the tears finally fell as he glared at Yoongi, hatred flaring in his gaze. “But then he leaves you. He leaves and you are sitting here feeling everything. You’re sitting up hysterically crying at 4 a.m. wondering why he left you in some empty parking lot because it’s the only fucking place that doesn’t taste like him or remind you of what you gave up for him. You’re trying to hold your shattered bones together but his old t-shirts don’t work as a cast, wrapping them around your chest won’t fix the craters in your ribs. Nothing fucking stops the aching, but what’s really twisted is how I let it. I let him because I loved him. That’s what’s fucking twisted.”

Yoongi was quiet as he saw Jimin’s walls go down as he used his hands to cover his face, crying quietly while the purple lightening returned to run across his skin in some sickening form of comfort. He wasn’t sure where the burst of the rage came from in the younger, or why it was in him too, but seeing Jimin deflate like a balloon made him regret the argument.

“I was trying to thank you for saving me last night when you had no reason to and after I treated you like a sex toy and you still didn’t do anything to me, so I was trying to thank you, but now I take it back because you’re still an asshole,” Jimin huffed, half crying again as he turned away to rub his eyes free from tears. “Why did you even bother, anyway?”

Yoongi kept quiet, afraid that if he opened his mouth again that he would make everything worse. He hated this. He was never good with words unless those words were written across his sheet with notes attached, that he could rap out or let others sing.

But saying them was another thing entirely. He wasn’t like that, and it made him upset because right now he wanted to fix this. But it wasn’t like that. And the tension in the room was something he wanted gone. He felt like he suffocating.

“Yeah, okay. Silence works,” Jimin muttered, irritation laced strongly in his voice as he made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and glanced around. He seemed to have become the same detached Jimin as before. “Look, I am sorry about last night and how I acted. It was wrong, and I know it. Thank you for taking care of me. But right now, I really don’t want to talk to you.”

Yoongi nodded mutely, keeping his expression neutral as he watched Jimin keep his eyes averted and away from the older. It was like a lashing to his back each time those beautiful brown eyes flickered away from him like he was diseased.

It was his fault anyway. He just had to open his mouth.

“Shower open?” Jimin asked, flinching when he ran a hand through his greasy hair. Yoongi nodded again, watching as Jimin numbly walked towards the bathroom. Before he realized what he was doing, he reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him. Jimin grunted, annoyance causing his brow to furrow as he looked back. “What?”

“I… um… just be careful,” he said, wishing he could literally kill die right there. Jimin arched a brow, looking even more annoyed as he pulled his wrist back and shook his head.

“You’ve said it before, yeah? I don’t need a second mother, Yoongi.” Huffing, he walked into the shower and slammed the door. Yoongi almost jumped at the loud noise, flinching a bit in distaste to the loud noise, before licking his lips and sighing.

“Yeah, I guess I did say that,” he muttered to himself before running a hand through his messy hair just as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw it was Jin. He answered it quickly. “Jin.”

“Yoongi, are you back in the hotel? Where the fuck is Jimin?”

“Please stop shouting. I would actually like to continue to hear, you know?” Yoongi snapped, exhausted. Jin fell quiet, but anxiety was dripping through the line. Shaking his head, he realized he had been sighing a lot and it was only eleven in the morning. “Jimin is… fine. He’s fine. He’s with me in my room.”

“Oh thank god. I have been so worried. Everyone was so scattered last night. Joonie is with me- I am pretty sure Tae and Jungkook are here, but I am calling them. Have you seen Hobi?” Jin asked. Yoongi sighed, knowing he was going to be sighing a lot more at this point. “I didn’t see him at the club.”

“Good. Maybe he got a good lay,” Yoongi muttered.

“Min Yoongi! That is not a good thing,” Jin warned. Yoongi rolled his eyes but remained silent as he glanced at the bathroom door where he could hear the shower running. “But, what about you? The last I saw… you were kissing Jimin.”

“Seokjin,” Yoongi warned, ice coating his voice like a knife as he tightened his hold on the phone. Jin’s line crackled a bit. “Don’t go prying.”

“Yoongi…”

“Don’t you have two other babies to call? Why bother to talk to me? Find Hobi and the other two. I’ll take care of Jimin,” Yoongi told him. He heard a scoff on the line, some mumbles.

“Yoongi, I know you. Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. I am stupid, but I am not incompetent.” Although he was wondering about that as well. Lately he just kept making a fool and a asshole of himself. Jin breathed out slowly silently agreeing before wishing him well and hanging up.

Shaking his head, he hung up too and glanced around. He wondered for the thousandth time how he got into this mess as he reached down and grabbed his notebook, wondering what they were going to do for food. Jin was out of line, so they were on their own.

Yoongi stared absently at his notebook when the door slowly creaked open, a eye peering through the small crack and a hint of flushed cheeks. Yoongi’s brow furrowed as he sat up, keeping eyes locked on the eyes, not lower.

“Um… my stuff is in Hobi hyungs room. Can…” Jimin paused, licked his lips anxiously as the red to his cheeks darkened. “Can I um, borrow some like… clothes?” Yoongi nodded briskly, looking back down at the notebook and trying so very hard to ignore the shuffling and light padding of Jimin’s feet across the carpet as he came to Yoongi’s duffel.

But his eyes still traced it. Smooth, tawny skin was stretched over his muscles that bulged when he moved his arms to peer into the bag. A few scars were here and there, scattered and misplaced, but they still looked pretty.

Water was dripping from his damp blond hair and down his back, lining his muscles to be more defined and Yoongi had the strangest urge to lap up at the extra water but kept his body locked and still on the couch.

He still hoped the towel would drop so he could admire his ass without clothing in the way. Of course, he wasn’t that lucky and Jimin was still pissed. He could tell by the slightly jerky movements and how his eyes didn’t once look back at him.

Finally Jimin gathered clothes and disappeared back into the bathroom. Yoongi felt like he breathe again, but it was short lived. Jimin reappeared moments later with his clothes on and damn it all to hell if he almost didn’t pop a boner right then and there.

He had chosen Yoongi’s favorite sweats, mostly because they were a bit too big on him so he always had to tie them tight around his waist and with Jimin, he had to roll up the bottoms so they were better and the waist was also tied. They were black and made him seem him even smaller.

For a shirt he just took Yoongi’s hoodie, which was black and had ‘sweg’ on it. It was also a few sizes too big but Yoongi never minded and it suited Jimin well. HIs hair was damp and his face clear of makeup. He looked undeniably good in his clothes.

Jimin kept his eyes away as he went over and sat on the bed, pulling out his phone only to wince and toss it away like it burned him. Yoongi frowned, wondering if he should say something but instead kept his mouth shut.

The coldness was still hanging between them.

“Where is Jin hyung and the others?” Jimin finally broke the silence, craning his head to glance over at Yoongi, who closed his notebook and sighed, sitting back to close his eyes and wish away the tension.

“Well, Hobi is missing in action- probably got laid. Jin is flipping about his missing babies but he is around somewhere. If you’re hungry, we are on our own,” Yoongi replied. Jimin hummed in acknowledgement. “Wanna see if I can go find some ramen?”

“Whatever you want, I’m not really hungry.”

“With a hangover you should eat something,” Yoongi answered, and stood. Walking towards the door, he glanced back to Jimin who was watching him go. He looked away. “About earlier, I am… nevermind. I’ll be back. Stay safe.”

Jimin rolled his eyes and looked back to the ceiling as Yoongi disappeared out the motel door. Yoongi’s heart felt heavier than ever before as the wall that was slowly coming down between them came back up with renewed vengeance. It made a pit of ice bubble within his belly and he was reminded why he was so alone for so long.

He was never good with anybody.

Chapter Text

“Duck Jimin!” Jin shouted. Jimin lurched forwards, dropping to his butt as he lowered his head under the bar and leaped back to his feet. Everything in his body was aching, burning with agony in ways dance never made him. “Go!”

Jimin burst back through, kicking up dirt as he leapt over the next bar, chest aching as it desired air. His entire body was shaking with adrenaline and exhaustion. Sweat was pouring from him despite the cold winter air that stung him with every labored breath he took.

Everything was burning, and he relished it for the time he had. Jin had laid out a obstacle course in the backyard and it was three levels. It ranged from the first part of the forest and about a mile in a circle. It wasn't easy. It held trees he had to climb, bars to jump over or slid under. He had to dodge different weapons set up and he had to make it to the other side under a time limit.

It was harsh and brutal, and he always came back with bruises and his feet practically bleeding from running so much. Still, he did it. It kept his mind off of things. So many things. It has been about a week since the Spark Ring, since the text message, and since he made a fool of himself in front of Yoongi.

It has also been a week since Jimin had spoken to the white haired male. Sure, during training he spoke to ask questions, but that was the extent. He offered nothing, and neither did the other. It was a cold war and he hated it.

But hurt was traveling through him, anger and bitterness. He was so tired of constantly being hurt and that was all Yoongi seemed to know how to do. Yes, he was still sweet and caring, but he was also an asshole and Jimin couldn’t take it anymore.

Flanking to the right, his chest burned as he leaped over another branch, leaping to grab a high branch and twist himself over before landing back on the ground and continuing his running. Everything was screaming, but he was desperate to break his time of 16 minutes and 28 seconds.

Turning back to the left, two split trees ran up the middle. He ran straight for them, running up the trunk to grab the red bandanna and leap back down for his second grab and run. He turned and he saw the finish at the end, easily stretching his body to hit it.

He skidded to a stop, collapsing against the grass of the backyard as he huffed, breathing in roughly as he lay there. He felt disgusting. Sweat and dirt covering his body but he was too tired, too sore to move.

He remained lying there, staring up at the blue sky and the autumn breeze caressing his overheated skin while the autumn leaves fluttered delicately in the air like autumn snowflakes. Jin came over and settled in the grass next to him, bringing his legs together and resting his arms there.

Jimin slid him a glance, silently asking his time. This was their routine it seemed. After running the course for the fourth time and Jimin’s legs became jelly, Jin would sit next to him and they would just enjoy each other's presence.

“14 minutes and 48 seconds. Good job,” Jin praised, glancing down at him with a fond smile. Jimin smiled back, his breathing evened out and the sweat on his skin cooling him down with the colder temperatures. Jin looked away, biting his lip carefully. “Jiminie…  about last week.”

“I was wondering when you were gonna say something,” Jimin replied, pushing himself up on his forearms and tilting his head back. He knew the Telepath read his thoughts the night of the club, about the text and how  he felt, and he was wondering when the older was going to bring it up.

He felt as if Jin had been walking on eggshells around him the entire week and it only strained him out further. He felt like the older was worried about constantly, watching him and making sure he was alright and so was Hobi.

He hated it. He knew he felt like shit but this was making things worse for him. With Yoongi, the night at the club, and the text and how he hasn’t heard from Jihyun because of his phone… he felt like he was falling apart from the inside, decaying slowly.

“You don’t have to baby me. I can take of myself,” Jimin sighed, running a hand through his hair and making it stick up oddly because of his sweat. He flinched and scrunched his nose, dropping his hand as he looked away, sitting up and crossing his legs. “It’s my problem anyway.”

“That isn’t true… Jiminie, what your father did-”

“-He isn’t my father, remember?” Jimin interrupted, scowling. Jin paused, then sighed, before putting his arm around Jimin’s shoulders. He brought him close, letting Jimin rest his head against his shoulders, but Jimin thought about how he wished it was Yoongi, and hated his thoughts for  it.

“We can get you new cell service and a new number, Jiminie, I promise,” Jin whispered, cradling him there despite the sweat and he was sure he probably smelled like a stink, sweaty sock but made no move to leave the hold. “So… how much longer are you going to ignore Yoongi?”

Jimin’s brow ticked, head cocking to the side as he pulled away from the older, keeping his gaze locked on the sky so he wouldn’t have to face the older. He could him already, watching him carefully.

“You noticed?”

“We all did. Namjoon was considering locking you in a room together until you solve the problem,” Jin laughed. Jimin cracked a smile, not putting it past the Knowledge Seeker to actually do that.  Jin softened and looked up at the sky. “What did happen that night? The last I saw, you were kissing him at the club.”

“You can read thoughts and you’re asking me that?” Jimin joked, cutting him a side glance with a smirk. Jin smiled back, shrugging, as he bit his lip and gestured vaguely towards his head.

“In crowded places like that… I can’t pick out any thoughts in particular. They just kinda slam into me over and over again. I don’t usually go in crowds unless I am close to either Namjoon or Hobi. They both tend to think a lot so I can focus on their thoughts a bit more,” JIn explained vaguely. “And with you training all the time, your thoughts are pretty clear.”

Jimin looked down, wishing he could hide himself away as the drunken night that liked to play in his head slammed back into him when he remembered how good Yoongi felt, how liberating he was. How he tasted like mint and beer, but had a hint of something indescribable to him.

Kissing Yoongi was way different than kissing Cheol. With Cheol he felt like he was forcing the other, making him get into the kiss because he offered no feeling, but with Yoongi it was like the male couldn’t help but kiss back. Lust, affection, and concern was racing across Jimin’s taste buds.

He loved it.

Yoongi held him like he didn’t want to let go, like he meant something, and Jimin wanted so much more. Jimin wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Did he really think that Yoongi would fuck him senseless and end it at that? Did Jimin want him to end it, like a one night stand and then never mention it?

Worse, a friend with benefits? Only fuck each other when the need was there and then pretend like nothing happened? The idea made Jimin want to shrink in on himself because that wasn’t how he saw Yoongi.

Maybe that was why he got so angry when Yoongi basically said that’s how he was. Was willing to fuck anyone with legs and a dick. Okay, yes, he was drunk and in pain and just wanting to feel something, but Yoongi was never someone that Jimin would fuck so casually.

He meant a bit more than that. He had feelings- the kiss only proved it because he wanted more. He was growing feelings for Min Yoongi. He couldn’t deny it anymore, which was probably the main reason he was ignoring him.

Yes, he was hurt by Yoongi’s words, but as much as he hated to admit it… he was right. What he did was beyond stupid. Getting drunk in a unknown place and go home with some random stranger when really, he could barely control his powers and his fighting skills meek. He was mediocre at almost everything.

And he was craving attention. He wanted attention because he has felt so alone for so long that he was willing to take any attention he could. Attention isn’t love, and that was how he ended with Cheol. He loved Cheol for the attention, but was it really love?

What would he know about it anyway?

So, okay, maybe he was being a little childish. Ignoring someone wouldn’t solve the problems, and damn it if it wasn’t hard. He missed Yoongi. He missed the half smiles and smirks, like he missed the sarcastic remarks and he missed his gruff hand that fit in his.

He missed it.

But he didn’t know what else to do and it felt like Yoongi stabbed him with a dull, rusty knife and twisted with the words. He didn’t mean to spill so much about himself either.

So you could just go ahead and sign him up for being a big baby, because honestly, he was. He wasn’t proud of that, but he wasn’t proud of a lot of things. He was going to add this to the list.

“Did you and Yoongi…?” Jin’s words were cautious, eyes weary as he treaded on thin ice with the question. Jimin offered a weak smile and snorted, amused by the mere idea. He shook his head briskly and tried to not let bitterness override him.

“No. He kissed me, then carried me back to the motel where I was knocked out cold. Nothing happened,” Jimin said, letting the bitterness lace his voice as he sighed and lowered his head. Jin’s brow furrowed, confused by the array of thoughts that wouldn’t slow for him to read.

“So… he didn’t do anything to you?”

Jimin snorted again. “No, eomma, he didn’t fuck me. I’m still untouched by Yoongi,” he replied, a little sadly. Jin was quiet a moment, studying Jimin before sitting back on his forearms and looking at the sky. “Do you always meddle?”

“It’s all I can do, honestly,” Jin said quietly. “All I do is hear people's thoughts, hear what they think of people and know their desires. Honestly, I wish sometimes I didn’t. It’s tiring, but then I realized it’s all I can do. You know?”

Jimin hummed. He could kind of understand. He could never really follow his father's footsteps, but he could always dance. He loved to dance. He wished he could be more like his brother sometimes, but he wasn’t.

“So, are mad that Yoongi didn’t go further or are you mad at yourself for trying?”

“Both? I don’t know. I am mad at myself, I am mad at him for making me feel stupid and I already know I am so having it blasted back in my face wasn’t helpful.” Huffing to himself, he drew his legs up to his chest, wincing at the soreness that raced through him before laying his forehead against his knee. “But mostly… I’m embarrassed. I fucked up so bad. And yeah, okay, he had a point but I was just… I’m tired.”

Jin pursed his lips as he casted his arm back over Jimin, letting the younger male lean against him and bury his face in his chest again to hide the red cheeks and watery eyes that looked close to spilling over.

“I know. Jiminie,” Jin sighed, turning the younger so that the boy was facing him. HIs eyes glistened with tears, and he sniffled pitifully as he fought back tears. He looked helpless and lost, so small and sad. Jin hated it. Just like he hated how Yoongi had returned to being a full blown hermit. “Yoongi is someone who doesn’t know how to express what he is feeling. He refuses to, and you are someone who wears a heart one a sleeve. I know this probably doesn’t help, but you two need each other. Ignoring this won’t make it go away, Jiminie, and all you're doing is suffering needlessly. I am not saying whatever he did was right, but maybe tell him how you feel so he knows. It might help you too.”

Jimin nibbled on the end of his lip, nodding his head slowly despite the way his stomach churned at the mere idea. It felt like a lead ball had settled in his stomach and made his hands like ice as he played with the hem of his shirt.

Jin smiled fondly, petting his hair gently before looking back at the field. “Good. I have been so worried lately about you two.” Craning his head back, he closed his eyes and wished the nerves away.

“Jiminie! Eomma!” Tae called, appearing by the back door with an eager smile on his face. His dusty grey hair was messy, as usual, and his earrings were gone, but he still looked handsome as he waved them over. “Joonie hyung says no more training!”

“But I haven’t done a lesson with you or Hobi hyung yet!’ Jimin called back, twisting his body around to face the back door with a expression of disbelief. He had been training non-stop for a week and he wanted to keep going. He still wasn’t as good as he wanted to be.

Jin sat up, a smile crossing his features as he easily read Tae’s thoughts. “Joonie hyung’s orders, Chim! No more training. Get that tight little ass in here!” Tae called back, rolling his eyes. “Your little lightening balls can wait.”

A chuffing noise was made in the back of Jimin’s throat as Jin burst into his windshield wiper laugh and got to his feet, grinning towards the now pouting Jimin as Tae skipped back inside without another word.

Scrambling to his feet, he followed after his hyung on still wobbly legs as the exhaustion was quickly catching up with him. Everything felt a bit heavy and Jungkook’s punches from earlier were getting stronger as he was getting better.

He knew he had four bruises across his chest, another few across his legs and a couple splattered across his back. Jungkook tried to not aim for the face unless a Mender was around, which Jimin was grateful for. But still… everything was aching.

His fingers were calloused and scabbed over from unloading and reloading bullets at a even faster time and his aim had improved a bit. He could actually hit the target more than a few times even if it wasn’t on the bullseye.

With Tae, he was getting better at climbing trees and rocks, but the scrapes on his knees were certainly a telltale that it took work. With Jin, he felt his running skills getting better and his quick reflexes being put to use.

But with Hobi he still felt out of depth. His powers were a struggle. He wasn’t sure how he made it in that Spark Ring. Sometimes he managed to make those lightening balls like before and other times, full trees exploded. It was getting to exhausting.

Hobi seemed to be on the end of his rope with Jimin as well, and it was getting harder and harder to find it in him to control them. He just couldn’t do it no matter what anyone else told him. His power was like it’s own force and he hated it.

Pushing those thoughts away, he slipped inside the house right behind Jin as he lead them to the living room where Jimin’s mouth nearly fell open at the sight. Namjoon was grinning as he had speakers hooked up, a twister board game out, and what looked like karaoke.

“No more training. Today, we party! Bangtan style,” he said simply. Jin was grinning from ear to ear, rushing over to be pulled in by Namjoon who gave a firm kiss to his lips, smiling. Even Jimin smiled at them when suddenly Hobi grabbed his hand and tugged him further into the room.

Jimin stumbled a bit at the sudden force as Hobi laughed. “Come on, Jiminie, dance with me!” He cried just as the music cut on. Jimin had no clue what this music was- he had never heard it before but it was upbeat and fast and he liked it.

Hobi instantly started moving, breaking out into some freestyle moves that caused Jimin to pause as he admired the slightly older dancer, obviously a bit more experienced. Jimin had never really seen him dance before, so this was a first.

Hobi’s style was precise, a bit jerky and wild, yet never out of control. He moved like flames flickering across the starlight, fast and furious and yet smooth and well placed. It was paradox, and yet something so utterly graceful about him.

Tae and Jungkook were having their fun as well. They danced next to each other, not really in tune but it was obvious they could be if they wanted. Instead they just focused more on each other, giggling and laughing as they bounced around with a true sense.

Jimin also learned to give Jin and Namjoon a wide berth. They both were flailing and had bad footing, tending to trip over one another then laugh it off. But they stayed close to one another, locked within their world. It was cute, if you stayed back so you’re groin could live without a smack from Namjoon.

Yoongi was on the couch, looking a bit out place and a little awkward. He had his legs up and tucked underneath him, a beanie covering his beautiful hair and eyes downcast as he nibbled absently on his bottom lip.

For a moment, Jimin watched him, really looked at him. He looked the same as he always did, distant and as ethereal as ever, but there was a underlying bit of sadness that hunched his shoulders a bit forwards, making him seem smaller than usual and less intimidating.

As if feeling Jimin’s eyes, Yoongi looked up through his white fringe, eyes dark and unreadable. A surge of something flooded through Jimin’s system. He had missed the intense gaze of him, missed the way his eyes seemed to penetrate every fiber of his being and read him.

He couldn’t keep ignoring him anymore. But that didn’t mean he had to talk. He had a feeling, looking into Yoongi’s eyes, that the male knew. He knew and that was why he stayed away. He stayed away so Jimin can gather his thoughts.

Offering a bright smile, Jimin bowed his head towards him, hoping that the older male would know that it was okay. That they were okay. It wasn’t much, but Jimin wasn’t ready for conversion yet, but he wanted the air cleared between. It wasn’t perfect, but when Yoongi offered a half smile back, a smirk tucked in the corner of his mouth and tilted head, Jimin knew he understood.

Feeling lighter, his shoulders pulled up a bit as he threw himself into dancing, like he finally had the permission too. Despite the ache in his bones, and the exhaustion in his blood, he danced with everything he had in him.

He moved in the way he knew. Slow and fluid, yet fast like a river. He knew his body, knew how to move it. He was always good at contemporary, but he loved the feeling of dancing to Hip Hop or street.

Soon cat calls and whistles went through the house, matching the loudness of the music that was still blasting as more sweat broke out across his skin and his heart raced from the added movement.

His hips swayed as Hobi cheered him on, urging him by stepping next to him and creating a sync with their movements. Laughing and throwing his head back, he moved along the lines of Hobi, delighting in the challenge with keeping up with the other, guessing his movements and copying them.

Soon Tae and Jungkook joined in, but they didn’t have the same grace as the two dancers, but it Jimin was giggling as Tae was all but grinding against him, goofing off and giggling as they bounced around to each song.

He even heard Yoongi laugh from the couch, watching everyone as they moved and danced, at one point Jungkook twerked before trying to whip which made Tae burst into laughter before shaking his head and correct him.

Jimin giggled and joined in, which only caused another round of laughter to break out across the group. The music finally died down, leaving a bunch of laboured breaths through the room, giggles breathless as they looked towards Namjoon, who was kissing Jin gently.

“PDA! My eyes!” Jungkook cried, covering his eyes and hissing a bit as Tae rolled his eyes. Hobi snickered a bit, leaning against the wall as he brushed a lock of his sweaty fringe from his eyes.

“Oh please. Like I didn’t catch you with your tongue down Tae-ah’s mouth earlier,” Joon chuckled, arching a brow towards the younger male who only gave a cheeky grin and shrugged while Tae flushed red and looked at the ground. Jin smacked Joon’s chest, earning a small grunt.

“Let the single pringles have their peace, you disgusting couples,” Hobi added, giving a scrunched face towards the two couples while Jimin snickered and covered his mouth with his tiny hand. Yoongi smirked.

“Last time I checked you just got laid last week. What room do you have to talk?”

“And you were making out with Jiminie over here, so you shouldn’t talk either,” Hobi countered. Jimin choked on his salvia, a squeak escaping his lips as he swatted at Hobi who only shrugged. Yoongi didn’t look nearly as bothered.

“Is anyone going to bring up the whole ‘single pringle’ thing?” Jungkook deadpanned, raising his hand like a kid at school as he looked around the room. Hobi clucked his tongue but didn’t answer as Joon just sighed,

“No, Kookie, we aren’t going to bring it up. Now, Twister anybody?” He offered, brightened as he gestured towards the game. Jin shook his head, pointing towards the karaoke machine.

“I vote karaoke first! Or have Yoongi perform something! Or have all three of you perform something!” Jin cheered, looking excited. Yoongi looked up from his notebook, the same one that Jimin keeps seeing that was nearly overflowing with loose papers and the leather worn and loved.

Jimin’s brow furrowed as he tucked it a bit under his arm, glaring at Jin with narrowed eyes that looked to be more like angry cat then anything. Hobi smiled, brightening like the sun at the idea as he nodded and Tae jumped in the air like a kid at Christmas.

“Oh please hyung? I miss Agust D!” Tae squealed. Jungkook grabbed Tae’s hips, keeping him in place as he nuzzled the back of his neck gently, nodding towards his hyung while Jimin felt lost again, but that wasn’t exactly new.

“Yeah, come on, Yoons. We haven’t rapped together in a while,” Hobi added, smiling fondly at Tae who was all but buzzing. “I know you have been working on new things. You haven’t shared anything in so long.”

Yoongi was scowling, glancing between the three with distaste as he stared at them, eyes carefully avoiding Jimin’s who placed himself on the end of the sofa, a bit eager to understand what they were talking about.

Yoongi slid another glance towards Jimin, who smiled brightly back. He was hoping it was encourage the male, since he was gathering that he rapped or something, but he wasn’t sure. Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek and looked away.

“I don’t really feel like it. I don’t really have anything ready,” he grumbled, ducking his head as he put his notebook back in by his side and refused to look at anyone. Jimin leaned over and touched his shoulder, causing the male to look up.

“You write music, hyung?” It felt odd to refer to Yoongi as ‘hyung’ again, but it felt good. Yoongi’s eyes widened at the honorific, before his eyes softened and he shrugged. Hobi snorted, Tae giggled while Jin flashed a bright smile as he waved a hand in Yoongi’s direction.

“Oh he does more than that. He is just being modest. For once,” Jin snickered. Yoongi shot him a mean look, flashing his middle finger as he grumbled a bit but Jin didn’t seem the least bit bothered. “He writes and produces music. In fact, he use to be a Underground Rapper- before Joonie found him. It was why he was so mad when you exploded his computer- he was making a new song.”

“Jinie, shut up,” Yoongi groaned, cheeks a bit pink. Jimin blinked in amazement, awed by learning something new of the male as he looked back down at the notebook, half hidden away and realized that was where he wrote the music. “It’s just a hobby. It’s not like I publish the music or anything. Jeez.”

“That’s true, but you are still amazing, hyung!” Tae spoke up, bouncing again. “You as Agust D is so amazing! I wish you were willing to perform more.” Tae pouted, jutting out his lower lip while Jungkook nodded from behind, squeezing his hips gently. Yoongi sighed and shook his head.

“Hyung, that is so amazing! Why didn’t you say anything? I wish I could write music, but all I am good at is dancing,” Jimin breathed. Yoongi looked over at him, and it felt like this was the first time in a long time that Jimin has seen the soft smile on his beautiful features.

“It really isn’t, but thank you. And you are a beautiful dancer. I think you beat Hobi actually,” Yoongi praised, smirking when he heard Hobi give  aloud gasp and clutch at his heart in mock hurt as he stared at Yoongi with round, tearful eyes.

“I am literally standing right here, Yoons. There goes my pride.”

“Shove it, you loud horse,” Yoongi teased. Hobi whined and Tae patted his back gently. Jimin flushed under the praise, feeling his entire body heat up with the force of the blush as he ducked his head and wished he could hide his pink cheeks.

“I wouldn’t say that… but thank you. Maybe one day you can show me your music? And let me see you perform?” Jimin asked cautiously, biting his lip in worry that he said something wrong. Yoongi was smiling though, nodding his head. “Awesome! I can’t wait!”

“Okay, enough of that! Twister! I wanna play Twister!” Jungkook cried, releasing his hold on Tae to run over to the game and pull it out. Tae bit back a grin as he came over to help while Joon rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. “Come on, old man, let’s see who's better!”

“Who are you calling old?” Jin barked back, instantly getting fired up. He had his eyes narrowed on the youngest, who shot the Telepath a cheeky grin as he unfolded the plastic and gave a challenged grin. “You little shit. It’s on! I am not old.”

“You’re like, 23. That’s old,” Jungkook snorted. Everyone was biting back snickers as Jin thrust the spinner towards Yoongi, who took it with a blank face as the two lined up. Tae settled on the floor, watching with amused eyes while Namjoon was shaking his head.

Jimin, eager to help, helped fold out the rest of the plastic before taking his place next to Yoongi who smiled towards him before looking back up towards the two males. Honestly, Jimin wasn’t sure who was the oldest or the youngest when it came to the two of them.

Their relationship was interesting, a mix between Jin taking the role of taking care of the youngest of the group and then become a child himself so they played together. It was obvious that Jungkook respected Jin, by calling Eomma often it was obvious, but he couldn’t understand their dynamics.

It wasn’t something he was going to pry into, but seeing how lovingly and a bit annoyed Namjoon looked with them made him wonder how this did come to be. Hobi was right- they were all very different people who probably wouldn’t be friends if this wasn’t going on.

But they worked like a well-oiled machine. Everyone had a place, a way that they were that made everyone else fall into place and they ran smooth. They were a family in every sense of the word.

“I am surrounded by idiots,” Yoongi grumbled, starting the first spin. Joonie laughed lightly, nodding his head in agreement as they fell into the game. “Left hand green.” Jimin laughed as they scrambled to start, their long bodies barely fitting the small plastic.

Jimin watched as it unfolded before him. He was nearly on the ground from laughing so hard when Jungkook kicked out his leg to reach the red color and in turn, hit Jin who stumbled as his body twisted to reach all the colors needed.

“Foul! This has got to be a foul!” Jin cried, biting back laughter. Tae was covering his mouth with his hand when Yoongi called out the next color and body part that had poor Jin resting under Jungkook’s ass, while Namjoon was holding his belt loops to give Jin some room.

Hobi was rolling on the floor, clutching his stomach, Tae was blushing and laughing hard enough his body rocked while Jimin was across his lap, also laughing at the odd position the two were locked in.

Finally, Jin collapsed, his limbs detangling themselves as Jungkook whooped and hollered, prancing around the room in glee at his success. Jin groaned, slipping his hand from where it was tangled and laid across the plastic as he peeked up, glaring grouchily.

“Told you, you old man,” Jungkook laughed. Jin made a move to grab his ankle but Jungkook easily dances away, still cackling jovially while Tae slips over and grabs his hand. Jungkook softened and kissed him gently.

Sighing, Jin sat up and brushed a hand through his hair. “Alright, enough games for one day. Hobi, clean this up? I am sure you want to go practice dance, yes?” Hobi nodded, pushing himself up as the laughter died down. “I’ll go get started on dinner. Do we want Korean or American?”

“How about Japanese?” Tae asked, switching to Japanese with a cheeky grin. Jin rolled his eyes but didn’t answer as the rest of them spoke up wanting Korean. Pouting, Jungkook kissed his frown away. Giggling, Tae turned to Jimin. “Want to go train a bit?”

“Sure.” Glancing over at Yoongi, still next to him on the couch, he met his dark gaze and gave another smile. He wanted to talk a bit with Yoongi, but now wasn’t the time. Ignoring the butterflies stirred to life, he stood and followed Tae out of the room and back into the cold, autumn air.

Yoongi watched him go, feeling like the male was slipping through his fingers again. He hated the distance between them, but earlier, he felt like it might be okay.

Jimin slipped out of the house as Jungkook followed Jin into the kitchen, compliant to help make dinner while Hobi lowered himself to the ground to slowly start packing it up again. Yoongi made no move to leave, content on the couch.

“So, you finally gonna tell Jimin how you feel?” Hobi broke the silence, glancing up from the box he was squishing the plastic in. Peeling his eyes from the ceiling, he looked back at Hobi with an arched brow. Hobi rolled his eyes. “You really think I like feeling your lust for him every time you see him dance? I was surprised you didn’t pop a boner.”

“Hoseok, you really enjoy pushing buttons don’t you?” The dancer shrugged, unperturbed by the warning as he watched the male carefully. Yoongi sent a warning glare before turning his eyes back to the ceiling. “Why do you care anyway?”

“Maybe I have money on you two getting together,” he offered cheekily. Yoongi snorted harshly in the back of his throat as he shook his head, wondering why the hell he even bother with the Empath. Hobi sobered. “Or maybe I am tired of feeling the two of you want each other and yet this cold war keeping the entire house at an impasse. Ever think of that?”

Yes. He thought about it. It was why he locked himself back in his room so it wouldn’t be as bad. He didn’t want their quarrel to affect everyone around them but it seems ot did anyway. Everything was complicated.

He was complicated. Jimin was someone he cared about, much to his dismay, and he was the person that kept things he cared about as far as he could from himself. People left. People tended to be unable to handle him, so he would stick with one night stands.

Hoseok clucked his tongue, narrowing his eyes dangerously, getting to his feet and plopping on the couch next to him as he glared at Yoongi with hard eyes. Yoongi eyed him back, not in the mood for another lecture.

“Why do you keep doing this? Can’t you just give in for once? Can you stop making everything so fucking complicated? You like him, you kissed, and you seem to work well together. What is your problem?” Hobi growled, irritated.

Growling in his throat, Yoongi stood, maneuvering to get away from this conversation because he was so tired of feeling like he was being pushed to make on move on someone who deserved better than him. He was trash, a person who even Hobi didn’t want to talk to for a amount of time.

He was a male with baggage that he didn’t want to dump on anybody and especially not Jimin. There was no reason to hear for the thousandth time that he was stupid because trust him, he knew that already.

He has been stupid since he was ten years old. Hell, maybe younger.

“Yoongi, don’t walk away,” Hobi barked, getting to his feet and making a grab for Yoongi’s hand. Panic shot through the older as he tore his arm away so fast he stumbled backwards, nearly landing on his ass, but he managed to catch himself.

The Empath’s eyes widened, his freezing from where he was inches away from touching the other’s pale skin, mouth falling a bit open as Yoongi pulled his hand close, lips lifting to show his white teeth in anger.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Hoseok. Do not go prying into my emotions and don’t you dare attempt to play with them. I have enough of it from Seokjin and I am so tired of having people try and use my power. Do not touch me,” Yoongi hissed, spittle flying from his mouth as he sent daggers towards the younger.

Hobi took a step back, dropping his hand to the side limp. Hurt was across his features, tangling his handsome face to where it looked lost and sad. Gone was the smile that was always on his face, replaced by a face that Yoongi almost didn’t know.

“I wasn’t… Yoongi, I swear I wouldn’t-”

“-Don’t. You know better than to touch me when I am angry- you know better to touch me in general because your power reaches for mine. Haven’t you pried enough?” Yoongi barked back, ignoring the way he wanted to cry. Hobi’s lip quivered, a hand reaching out again before dropping. His head lowered. “I don’t want to fight, Hoseok, but please, leave me alone. Leave my feelings lone, leave everything alone. Can’t we just be happy? Like Jin wants? Please?”

Silence lapsed in the room, other than the sound of Hobi’s sniffles. Yoongi wilted, exhaustion hovering over him as he reeled the energy in his body back. Reaching out, he touched the clothed shoulder of the younger.

“I’m sorry… I am so tired of all this drama… I just… I can’t do this, okay?” Hobi nodded briskly, looking up but he didn’t offer a smile. His stomach clenched pitifully, disgust traveling through him. “Hey, things will work out, you stupid horse.”

“At least I don’t look like a turtle,” Hobi shot back gently. Chuckling, Yoongi pulled back his hand as he shook his head and smiled, feeling the tension ease a bit as leaned his head back. The ease settled his shoulders, his stomach feeling less heavy. “You know we love you, right?”

“Yes. Why else would you put up with me?”

“That is an excellent point,” he agreed. Huffing, the white haired male turned on his heel and shoved his hands in his pocket, feeling the weight of his notebook in his jacket as he headed for the kitchen and Hobi headed for the stairs.

The kitchen smelled of spices and seafood, causing Yoongi’s stomach to rumble in appreciation as Jungkook followed Jin’s orders and dumped seaweed into a pot while the vegetables were being roasted on a pan.

Jin was by the counter, mixing in some rice with other things that Yoongi didn’t understand and wasn’t going to try and understand. He couldn’t cook worth anything. He never tried and honestly, didn’t want to. This was Jin’s domain.

“Everything good, Yoons?” Jin asked, peeking up from his counter to search Yoongi, who leaned against the archway to the kitchen. Flickering his eyes towards the oldest male, he offered a little smile and nod. He knew the other could read thoughts- knew he knew what happened in the living room.

Jungkook paused in his work, glancing up through his dark fringe towards the Reflector. After sensing nothing was wrong, he grinned cutely before continuing his work. Yoongi huffed a bit before looking back at Jin.

“Namjoon upstairs?”

Jin nodded, looking a bit worried. “Yes. He was in here keeping us company but his phone started ringing. He blocked his thoughts so I am not sure who called. He has been up there for ten minutes though.”

“I wouldn’t worry, Eomma, you know how Appa gets,” Jungkook piped up, placing the now empty pot in the sink and starting the water to wash it. Jin glanced over, fluffing the rice and shifting ot finsih the vegetables while checking the fish. “It was probably Nikki-ah. He mentioned that she was calling later for information on the Korean side since she went back to America.”

“Oh- that is true. But why block his thoughts from me? He hardly does that,” Jin muttered, lines forming across his face from worry. His eyes darted constantly towards the stairwell, like he was waiting for Namjoon.

Yoongi shifted his weight, licking his lips as he cocked his head. “I wouldn’t worry so much, Jinie. You might ruin your pretty face,” he teased lightly, smirking. Jin clucked his tongue, arching a brow.

“Not likely. What was it Hobi-ah called you? Turtle?”

“Or grandpa. He sure acts like one,” Jungkook snickered, nose scrunched as he glanced over at Yoongi who deadpanned his face. Jin followed his sight, hands pausing in stirring. “He is grouchy, sleeps a lot, wants to be a rock in the next life, and he doesn’t like to move nor doe she like people. He’s like a grandpa.”

“I can’t even deny it,” Yoongi agreed, nodding without really caring before he grinned. “But at least I got sweg.” Jin and Jungkook groaned in unison, throwing their head back in disbelief as Yoongi shrugged. “I know. I’m awesome.”

“Save me from this please,” Jungkook moaned. Shaking his head, Yoongi chuckled and settled. He would go in and help as they moved about the kitchen, but he was more content to watch. Jin directed Jungkook quietly, mumbling soft orders and showing him what to do.

Warmth flooded his system, walking carefully into the kitchen and pulling himself up on the counter that wasn’t being used and leaned his back against the cabinets. Jin pursed his lips, looking like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

“Yoons, can you at least make yourself useful and set the table?” Jin asked, glancing between each of the pots and checking to make sure they were almost done. Obeying without a word, he got down and grabbed the plates and chopsticks before heading for the table.

“Hyung! Hyung!” Taehyung called, the sound of the door being thrown open and nearly slamming with the wall in his rush of excitement. Yoongi flinched at the noise, hearing Jimin giggle after the loud entrance before footsteps darted into the kitchen. “Hyung! There you are! Guess what Chim Chim did!”

Setting down the last plate, Yoongi headed back for the kitchen where he turned the corner and saw Jimi flushing a bit red, biting his bottom lip as he stood near near Tae, who was bouncing again with a box smile in place.

Jimin’s hair was a bit wind blown, looking fluffier than usual and dry from the sweat that weighed it down earlier. His cheeks were a bit wind burned, turning his nose red and his eyes were sparkling as he ducked his head.

“TaeTae,” he whined but the other boy waved him off, not the least bit concerned. JImin huffed, blowing out his cheeks and crossed his arms as he looked away while Jin smiled lovingly at the two boys.

“What did Chim do?” He asked, as if talking to a five year old but Tae didn’t mind. He only beamed brighter, clapping his hands like trained seal and pointed towards Jimin who looked like he was admiring the floor for him to lie down on.

“He can make those lightening balls on command now! He told his been practicing and he can actually form them! Hobi hyung is gonna flip!” Tae announced. Jimin kept admiring that floor, biting his lip as he shifted his weight.

“It’s not that big of a deal? They are small, jeez, Tae. You make it sound like they are huge,” Jimin muttered, rolling his eyes and pouting again. Tae pursed his lips and ignored him, shooting him a look.

“It is a big deal. Considering you had blown the fuse and you could barely control it other than blowing stuff up or zapping people,” Yoongi spoke up, arching a brow in his direction. Jimin’s head jerked up, brow furrowing as he glared, albeit playfully, at Yoongi.

“I can still do that! Don’t test me!” Jimin countered, trying to keep from laughing and giving him away but the older easily saw through it. Jin, however, made a noise of disapproval. Flinching, the Empower ducked his head.

“Unless you have money to replace all those electronics- again- I suggest not,” Jin warned. Flushing, he nodded briskly while Yoongi smirked. Puffing his cheeks out again, Jimin stuck out his tongue and huffed. Yoongi almost cooed.

There was absolutely nothing that was intimidating about him. He looked more like an angry puppy than anything.

But he didn’t. He only smirked and mussed his hair that caused him to whine and pout harder, swatting Yoongi’s hand away so he can cover his hair with his hand and turn to face him. Yoongi paused. He looked so kissable right now.

The desire rammed into him, nearly stealing his breath when he realized how close they were. If he took one more step he cold lean down a bit and catch those plump, pink lips and taste him again.

He looked so welcoming, staring at him with those grinning, charming eyes that danced with mischief, playfulness, and kindness. Hair fluffy, cheeks pink, and a little pout on his lips. Yoongi really wanted to kiss him again.

Jimin’s pout faded at the lack of answer from the older, noticing his expression change to something he had never seen before as he dropped his hand and cocked his head to the side. Worry caused his him to nibble his bottom lip. “Hyung?”

Yoongi tore his gaze away from Jimin’s lips, clearing his throat quickly to try and vanish the feeling as he stepped back quickly. “Sorry, blanked out there. Was thinking about lyrics,” he lied quickly. Jin shot him a knowing look, a smirk across his face as he made quick kissy faces that caused Tae to giggle. Jimin gave a confused scrunch.

Before Jimin could open his mouth to ask, he was cut off by Namjoon appearing in the kitchen. Freezing, Jimin’s eyes widen at the look across his face. Jin turned off the stove, pulling the food off as Jungkook sobered instantly.

The entire room became cold. Namjoon’s eyes were hard, his mouth set in a firm line. There was something dangerous glittering underneath his face, a dark knowing that reflected in the dark iris. The Knowledge Seeker was serious, and the others reflected it back.

Yoongi straightened, the teasing vanishing from his face as he took in Namjoon’s appearance, easily reading him as he stepped up and bowed his head. For the first time, Jimin was seeing Bangtan as what they were- they were a team, but also, they were fighters.

“What is it, Namjoon?” Yoongi asked gruffly, eyes searching his leader. Namjoon exhaled slowly, turning his gaze towards the white haired male.

“Yoongi, get the guns in the car. Dress in black and make sure to wear the right undergarments. A Faction of Iron Clad has been located off the outskirts of Busan. Songmin-ssi wants us to go in and exterminate and locate any documents of what they might have on us, or plans. They should be speaking with someone higher in the Iron Clad Faction. I also have word they made another kill of a Homebound in Seoul. They are getting restless.”

An intensity that Jimin has never felt before settled across the room. The words affected everyone in the room. Straightened backs like iron rods, hardened eyes, and fighting stances filled the room with gritted teeth of determination.

A hot rock settled within his stomach, gripping him with suffocating claws as it stole his breath and the situation slammed into him, causing the room to spin a moment. He felt lightheaded, but luckily, he didn’t feel like he was going into another panic attack.

“Jimin,” Yoongi spoke firmly, drawing Jimin’s attention away from the slow panic that was crawling up his spine like a prickly spider and ghosting across his skin. Breathing shallow, he met the dark gaze of Yoongi, trusting him to ground him. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You need to follow orders. Dress in black. Wear tight briefs- a vest is already waiting for you in your room. Look under the bed.” JImin nodded numbly. He felt like his body was on autopilot. There was no desire to run this time, no panic, nothing to be overwhelming him. He felt empty. He knew this was coming. “Go.”

Obeying without a word, he hurried with Jungkook and Tae up the stairs. He dressed in black yoga pants, strapping a few seths to his leg and putting his belt across his pants like Yoongi often made him where during his gun training. He wore the vest, strapping it tight and obeyed without even thinking. His hands felt cold.

Moving about the room, he slipped on his sneakers grabbed his black jacket and put it on to hide the body belt that was criss crossed across his chest and back. Jimin brushed a hand through his hair, breathing in slowly before grabbing his beanie and covering it.

Without looking around, he left his room and headed back downstairs where people stood gathered in the living room where Yoongi had his black duffel pulled out, guns splayed across the room with other weapons and bullets and daggers.

Tae was dressed wearing the most subdued clothes. Black pants that clung to his form, a black shirt that was tight around his shoulders and wore the same girdle across his chest that was already loaded with two .9 Glocks and extra bullets placed in his belt while he slipped a few throwing knives into his boot and belt strapped across his thigh.

His hair was covered by a black beanie, face withdrawn and tight as he moved to grab a taser and slip onto his right side and reaching again for a longer dagger to straw to his left. Every movement was like a robot, smooth and ingrained.

Jungkook was standing by his side, but much less weapons. HIs knuckles were strapped with black gauze, his hair covered with another knit beanie, and only had a gun on his side with extra ammo tucked away. He had a dagger hidden within his boot, but his face was impassive, if not a little sad.

Jin was on the other side, matching the rest of them, and littered with throwing knives, a couple of guns strapped throughout, and a taser also there. He had a beanie on his hair and a jacket swallowing his arms.

Namjoon was wearing nothing but black- he had no weapons attached to  him but Jimin, somewhere in the back of his mind, remembered that Namjoon didn’t fight. He wasn’t made for combat and instead was there eye in the sky as a hacker.

Yoongi was kneeling, a rifle strapped to his back, a few other high class guns strapped all across his front. He had the most guns across him, many hidden throughout his body and jacket, and daggers laced within his boot as he stood and adjusted the weapons across him.

Jimin’s mouth ran dry at the dark look of Yoongi’s face, hair covered by the same beanie of everyone else. With weapons across his body, and the all black across his lean muscled body, it made desire run through him as he remembered the kiss. How good it felt.

But now wasn’t the time for that.

“Taehyung, what animals can you gather?” Namjoon asked, putting an ear piece within his ear. Taehyung looked up, face blank as he took in his leader.

“I can gather a couple of coyotes and a few mice for scouts,” he answered, dropping his hands to his side. Namjoon nodded, pulling out a high tech laptop and adjusting a few things.

“That will work. Now, the building is an old warehouse of old shipments towards america and located near a deck that leads out to the sea,” Namjoon started, analyzing the map. “There are four levels and a basement. The word I got put them scattered throughout. They just be squatting, but they will have weapons. Basing on the size, I would say at least ten members.”

“Would the basement hold any homebounds or children who are Sparks?” Jin asked, coming around his shoulder to admire the blue map. Namjoon bit his lip, brow furrowing as his shoulder lifted.

“Possibly. The problem is there are seven exits- four emergency after that. If push comes to shove, they will leave and warn who is running them,” Namjoon mumbled. JIn frowned, rubbing his forehead, examining it closer. “We don’t have another man power.”

“Well, Hoseok can feel out for who he can when we get closer and get a number, but there is no guarantee all of them are Iron Clad,” Jin offered, frowning. Hoseok nodded from where he had just appeared, now covered in guns and face forlorn. “I can always see what thoughts I can gather, but I am not sure how much I will get that is useful.”

“Any thoughts should give us something,” Namjoon promised, clicking the keys and zooming in on the different entrances as he bit his lip. “Alright, Jungkook, I am trusting you to go into the fourth entrance in the back alone. You will be sent with a coyote from Tae.”

“Fine,” Jungkook agreed, but a flash of something in his eyes made Jimin place his hand on his shoulder, but the Maknae merely looked away and shrugged it away. Tae gave Jimin a grateful smile, but shook his head.

“Hoseok, I am sending you with Tae to the second entrance near the deck to the sea. There is a backdoor- it should be unlocked but bring a crowbar,” Namjoon ordered. Tae glanced over at Hobi, nodding his obedience before looking at the ground. “Bring mice with you. See what you can uncover. I want to send you two to find documents.”

“Done,” Hobi replied simply. Tae sent a quiet agreement. Namjoon flicked through the map again, biting his lip as he narrowed his eyes and glanced up at the other three members. Unease oozed from him as he sighed again.

“Jimin, you are with Yoongi- Yoongi and you are sent to the first row with Jin, who will head to the basement and see if he can find anything.” Fear clutched Jimin’s vocal chords, vision blurring a moment as Yoongi nodded, Jin agreeing without even blinking. “Remember, move fast and quiet. Kill any who are Iron Clad and don’t hesitate. After what happened with Tae, we need to send a message back. If any see signs of the Igniter Jamison, kill him. If you can. But watch out for Daesuk, the Leaper.”

Jimin wanted to faint, but instead, anger filled him. He remembered the pain, the agony, that Tae went through. He remembered Soonshim and his death. He remembered the way Jungkook nearly fell apart and how much Tae meant to him.

The idea of killing someone was horrifying and made his stomach tremble to give up its secrets, but revenge seemed appealing. Taehyung was his family, his best friend. Was there for him when no one else was.

Yoongi was right- he had to do this not for himself, but for the others. No matter how much he disliked this, he was going to do it.

“Jimin,” Namjoon called, tearing Jimin’s eyes from the floor and back to the leader. Namjoon was staring back at him, eyes cautious and careful. A question was burning in his eyes, making him feel uneasy. “Can you do this?”

“Yes. I… I can try,” he promised, lowering his back to the ground. He felt his fists clench, the guns across his chest weighing him down in ways he never thought possible. This was his life now, this was his family. “I will do my best.”

The Knowledge Seeker watched him a moment, lips pursed, before offering a smile and nodding, gratitude shining in his eyes. “Thank you. We have faith in you,” he whispered. The room glanced over at the Empower, offering half smiles that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “Let’s move.”

Instantly, they shifted and headed for the door. Following blindly, the energy in Jimin’s blood hummed to life, causing the purple lightening to make itself known from under his jacket. He flinched, slipping the sleeves further down before anyone noticed.

Piling into the car, Jimin stared out the window where the sky was darkened and the stars peeking through the endless black. His chest felt heavy and his mind a bit jumbled. He was afraid, and he could feel it in the buzz of his blood, but he sat up straight and kept his breathing even.

Everything was a blur to him. No one spoke, not even a peep. There was nothing to say. Instead, they were each in their own worlds, drowning in their thoughts that seemed to accompany them anywhere they went.

Jimin’s eyes remained locked on the window, watching as the trees filtered by, faster and faster, becoming bigger and bigger, before becoming so small in the distance eh couldn’t even see them.

That was how his life felt. The present was only a flash of now, while the distance he could see it only a little ways ahead, but he could look back at it until he couldn’t even remember it anymore.

He couldn’t remember his normal life. He couldn’t remember how it felt to go to school on the dot every morning. It felt distant and bland.

Yoongi shifted closer, his scent whisking towards Jimin and it made his tense shoulders loosen a bit, his eyes fluttering closed as he remembered to breathe. He could feel Yoongi’s warm, his wall of a presence, and it made him feel safer.

Opening his eyes and craning his head, he met Yoongi’s dark gaze evenly. Emotion was lining those endless orbs, staining them a worried dark brown mixed with fear. He didn’t have to be Hobi to know the male was worried about him.

Warmth flooded Jimin’s panicked system, calming the raging lightning that was skittering across his arms and his skin as he offered a eye smile towards the older, watching as he gave a tiny gummy smile back.

Maybe things will be alright.

 

******

 

The warehouse was huge, set up on the edge of a cliff where it had a slight overhang and a small, yet very steep, hill that lead to the dock on the east side. It was tall, wide, and dark, looming over a good expansion of the area.

The briny scent of bitter kelp and pungent fish littered the area, filling the area with a husky dampness that sent Jimin on edge. The area around the warehouse was back roads and streets, little shops lining the roads and streets, all closed from the late hour.

The clouds were getting heavier, but there didn’t seem to be a promise of rain, but it cascaded more shadows and darkness over the area, causing goosebumps to rise across his arms and join the lightening waiting there.

Namjoon had ordered Jin to park the car a ways out, hidden behind an alleyway where he started setting up his computer and cameras, already making sure the ear pieces in each of their ears works as he tried to hack the old security system in the warehouse.

Yoongi and Jimin were hidden behind a dumpster on the northside, bodies crouched and hidden as they waited for the okay to go. Jimin felt antsy, desperate, he couldn’t stop shifting his weight and his breathing was fast and shallow.

The earpiece felt odd in his ear, the guns weighing him down as he stared out the alley towards the door that was their entrance. It was small, a bit boarded up with wood and groaned anytime a gust of wind even brushed it. It looked metal, a little rusted too.

“Jimin, now isn’t the good time for a panic attack,” Yoongi breathed, casting Jimin a worried look at the heavy breathing. Jimin flinched and shook his head, turning to look at the older with slight panic.

“Is there ever a good time for a panic attack, hyung?” He muttered back, trying to focus his breathing, but standing in front of the building set him on edge, his muscles taut and ready to move. His stomach was like a tidal wave.

Yoongi snorted, adjusting his weight as he glanced back at the door then back up to the cloudy sky. Time was ticking. Dwindling down and down. Everything felt wrong. He couldn’t blame Jimin for being scared- he looked like a frightened baby deer with the wide eyes- but now isn’t the time.

“True, but now really isn’t a good time. Breathe, Jimin. It’s going to be fine,” Yoongi promised, but it felt odd and sour on his tongue. It was a lie. There was no guarantee that everything was going to be fine. It was why at the car, everyone offers a goodbye, with a promise of seeing one another again.

Just not...in this life.

Jimin huffed a bit, blowing out his cheeks but obeyed, starting his breathing exercises, and carefully evening it out. After a few moments, he succeeded. Looking at the cracked concrete beneath his feet, he sighed.

“People have died doing this, haven’t they?”

“Yes.”

“When you were a part of Iron Clad… did you…?”

Yoongi sighed heavily, feeling his shoulders sag a bit as he ran a hand over his face. He felt Jimin’s eyes burning into his profile, watching him. “Jimin, that part of my life is over, alright? Yes, I did what other members of Iron Clad did, which is why I am going to tell you to stay on your toes. They won’t hesitate to kill you.”

“Do you regret it?” Jimin asked softly, twisting his body so he can face Yoongi better, watching him with soft, non judgemental eyes. Speechless, Yoongi blinked before looking back towards the building.

“We all have our regrets, I guess. I think… I think I don’t regret Iron Clad. It taught me things, let me see the world for how it was. We all have our demons, you know? I just… chose to feed mine,” he answered with a shrug. Jimin nodded, brow furrowed in thought- forming a small pout.

It made Yoongi’s lips twitch, wanting to go into a smile at how delicate he seemed, so smol as he crouched there, legs tucked into him as he sat there. He soaked up Yoongi’s words and understood them.

“Hey, Yoongi?” Jimin said again, breaking the silence. Yoongi looked back at him with raised brows, humming acknowledgement. The ash blond gave a sad smile. “We all have our reasons for forgetting how to breathe, right?”

“Yes, we do.” Smiling to each other, a crackling sound in their ear pieces buzzed, startling them from their conversation as they pressed their finger against it, straightening up at the sound.

“Alright, I got in. Hoseok, got any readings?” Namjoon’s voice crackled, static filling the line as Yoongi and Jimin exchanged another look. Shifting closer, he wanted to feel a bit more of Yoongi’s heat. The older didn’t seem to mind.

“I got a few readings on the first floor, but the building is too big. I am not getting too much- I sense about seven spread out among the first floor, another two on the second. I can’t get anything from the basement. Jungkook, you are in the clear- head in and turn right,” Hoseok said across the line. Jungkook sent back confirmation.

It was starting.

“Their thoughts are basic- a bit jumbled, but I am getting about the same as Hoseok. Taehyung, Hoseok, head in a countdown of 13. Namjoon, got any eyes?” Seokjin’s voice appeared. Namjoon muttered back a yes. “Any at Jimin and Yoongi’s entrance?”

“No. Jimin, Yoongi, double team it,” Namjoon ordered. Yoongi sent back a fast ‘yes’ before he looked at Jimin, who looked back uneasily. Fear was keeping his legs wobbly and locked in place, hands trembling.

“You can do this. Remember, you aren’t doing this for yourself.”

“I know. Be safe, Yoongi,” Jimin whispered back. Yoongi flashed a smile before getting to his feet. Like a robot, Jimin stood beside him and they darted across the concrete and pulled open the door. Reaching out, jimin used his electricity to crackle the wood, splitting it and letting them in easier.

“Remember- try to not use your guns. We don’t want anyone to know we are here if we can avoid it. Taehyung, send out the scouts,” Namjoon crackled over the line. Taehyung whispered back agreement as Jimin and Yoongi slip inside, eyes struggling to the darkness of the room.

The room was on medium sized, square shaped, and piled high with boxes, old furniture, and trinkets. Cobwebs lined everything, a thick layer of dust causing Jimin’s nose to itch. A broken door was on the far side of the room, cracked down the middle.

Yoongi darted his eyes across the room, ducking low as he moved silently through the boxes, feet scuffing across the concrete ground. On shaky legs, mouth bone dry, Jimin followed as his heart slammed into his rib cage like a herd of thundering horses.

“Yoongi- a guard is headed your way. 200 feet, coming on your left,” Namjoon whispered into the ear piece. Yoongi grunted, pressing his body against the wall on the left of the door. Jimin ducked behind a box, hands like ice and yet sweat dripped from his forehead. “Yoongi, he heard the the wood splintering. He might look inside.”

Footsteps resounded, like old boots against the concrete, with light breathing. Yoongi held stone still, eyes watching the door. He was ready, legs taunt and hands twitching by his side. Panic was working it’s way through Jimin’s mind as he stared at Yoongi in horror and fear, eeping body as still as possible.

A head peered through the crack of the door, and like a whip, Yoongi lashed out and grabbed his throat, squeezing tight so not a sound could made from the male. The male thrashed, mouth opening to attempt but only dry air slid through his throat.

Twisting his body around, Yoongi stared into the man’s eyes. Eyes flicking to this red color, Jimin’s bit back a startled cry when the man started to whimper, dry sobs tearing through his bruised throat and then tears and panic showing through his milky eyes. Yoongi didn’t let go as the man gurgled and coughed- as if he was drowning- before blood trickled from his nose and eyes. He sagged in Yoongi’s hold, his body collapsing with a thud.

Jimin’s vision was blurring, staring at the man who lay across the ground leap. His eyes were glassy, the corners covered with blood as he stared at nothing. He was dead. Yoongi killed him.

Yoongi pulled back against the wall, eyes flickering back to their normal brown as they turned towards Jimin, who couldn’t peel his eyes away from the carcass. “Jimin… don’t look,” he hissed quietly through his teeth. He was shaking, trembling like a newborn fawn. Tears were streaking down his face. “Jimin!”

The male wasn’t responding. Regret slammed into Yoongi, startling him a second. He never regretted who he killed. He never felt bad, it was merely business. They didn’t hesitate to kill him, why not be the same way?

But seeing how Jimin was on the verge of breaking down, a ping of guilt, sorrow, and regret tore at his heart. Walking on his own accord, he kneeled down in front of the boy, cupping his face and pulling his eyes away from the body.

Jimin flinched, moving to back away, but Yoongi held firm, meeting his gaze. The fear laced in those wide brown eyes only hurt Yoongi further. He could feel the boy’s power, flickering across his skin and wanting to draw power from him, but he held fast.

“Jimin, listen to me,” Yoongi ordered firmly, keeping the boy’s gaze locked on his. “He was Iron Clad. He would have killed you and me. This is what we do. Understand? Focus, Jimin, focus. Listen to my voice. It’s just me, kitten. It’s just me.”

Jimin mewled lowly, a whimper tearing through his throat as more tears leaked from his eyes. His purple lightening was casting purple shadows across his angelic face. “H-he… he’s d-dead,” he mumbled. Yoongi hesitated before nodding.

“Yes, kitten, he’s dead. I need you to focus, okay? Remember why we are here. Focus, alright? Come on, kitten, be brave,” Yoongi crooned. He wondered where the hell this came from, but he wasn’t going to linger on it. He just wanted Jimin to be okay, and this felt so right. Holding his soft cheeks, big eyes watching him.

Pressing his lips together in a firm line, Jimin nodded slowly, pulling himself together enough to where he let out a shuddering breath, the lightning slowing. Yoongi was thanking whatever gods that they were zapping him into oblivion. He really didn’t want to be bacon.

“Okay, honey bunches,” he breathed out. Yoongi groaned, rolled his eyes, but pulled away. Jimin followed after, although a bit wearily, as they headed for the door and slipped out into the other room.

Glancing back to make sure that Jimin was alright, he saw that the younger was even glancing in the direction of the body and instead kept close to Yoongi. Nodding, Yoongi slipped into the other room.

The room was filled with old machines, reeked of seawater and fish, the brine salty and stung at his eyes. Groaning a bit in the back of his throat, he examined his surroundings. The first floor was broken up into three sections, including a raised section on the second part of the first floor.

The first part of the room was the machines that stood high and glittered dangerously. So many that not even Yoongi wanted to know what they were for. The second part of the room seemed to be offices for the overhead and lined the back wall with broken windows and graffiti across the walls.

The raised part lead to a balcony that wrapped around the entire room. Glancing up, he saw no one around. Relief flooded his system. Hopefully he could take them out altogether. So far, no one seemed to know they were there.

“Jungkook. There is a room near you- three of them. Look out! They sense you!” Namjoon screamed into the ear piece. Jimin jumped, fear returning to his eyes. Yoongi shushed him, shaking his head. Jungkook, out of all of them, can handle the room the best.

After a few moments of tense silence, Taehyung broke it. “Kookie? Kookie, are you… are you okay?”  Tae breathed, voice shaky. Silence followed the line for a few moments and each second that passed by felt worse than the last.

“Tae? I’m here, baby. I’m alright. Namjoon, all three of them are dad, but I am afraid our cover's been blown,” Jungkook announced. Jimin breathed out a sigh of relief, even Yoongi taking a moment to breathe before the panic returned.

“So I can see,” Namjoon muttered into the line. “Seokjin, turn left on the roundabout stairway. Wait twenty seconds, take out the two guards headed for the stairs. Then, flank right and you will find a door. There are no cameras down that way- check down there.”

Seokjin sent his reply as Yoongi ducked behind a machine, hearing footsteps and shouts echoed across the warehouse first floor. Their words were jumbled, some in korean and some in Chinese and Japanese, but they were too far to make out the words.

Jimin huddled close to the cold metal, his skin prickled with heat and yet he felt freezing. He hovered close to Yoongi, fear riding his system. Yoongi remained close, eyes watching the shadows of the people move about, more sounds that Jimin couldn’t decipher being made.

“Jungkook. You have two more headed your way. Take them out. Yoongi, Jimin, there is a Shadow here. I saw a flash of him across the camera near your area. Stay alert. Once you kill him, take out the others. Taehyung, Hoseok, head up the last stairwell on the right. The file room will be around there,” Namjoon continued.

Yoongi swore under hi breathe, eyes darting across the shadows of the room as panic lit up in his eyes. Shadows were the worst. If you couldn’t see them, it caused a problem to use his power.

Jimin searched the room, eyeing the wires and feeling out for energy. There was some, but not much. The entire warehouse seemed to have a low hum of energy altogether. The wires were a bit shaky, and each of the machines seemed to have some form of energy in them.

They were also all connected…

A lightbulb lit up in Jimin’s mind as he looked from machine to machine, then back at his hands that crackled with energy before looking over at Yoongi who was leaning against the machine. Yoongi caught his look.

“What?”

“Hyung, I’m gonna do something crazy,” Jimin whispered, but wasn’t deterred. This he could do. He has done it so many times before. Yoongi’s brow furrowed, eyeing his hands before back at the machine, hooked up to each other and the wall. Realization touched his eyes.

“Do it.” Yoongi shifted away from the machine as Jimin lunged forward, letting his pent up energy slam into the machine. Instantly, every single machine roared to life before exploding, sending shards of metal everywhere.

The lights blew, the fuse short circuited, and a scream pierced the air. Jimin fell to the ground, hands tingling and body like he was bouncing on a cloud as Yoongi drew his gun as a figure appeared from next to a machine to the right of them, convulsing.

Yoongi flinched when he saw that the man had been touching the machine, wearing a metal ring no less, and purple marks stretched across his body as his blood vessels blew, blood poured from his nose and eyes as he shook and then tumbled to the ground. But he wasn’t dead.

Yoongi shot two rounds into his skull before pocketing his gun and glancing over at Jimin who pushed himself up, feeling a bit light headed. “That was fucking brilliant, Jimin,” Yoongi praised, grinning.

“It’s all I’m good at, really,” Jimin breathed, sitting up and touching his head. Yoongi chuckled and replacing his gun. Fires had started from some of the machines, but it was the least of their worries.

“Brilliant maybe, but I am blind. Jimin, you shut down the cameras!” Namjoon shouted into their ear pieces. Jimin’s eyes widened before looking around, catching a wire to his right that lead to the fuse box. Getting to his feet, he hurried over and bit his lip.

“Jimin? What are you…?”

“If I can use that much energy into one blow, maybe I can get energy started again,” Jimin explained. His eyes followed the buttons, reading the labels carefully and following the wires as they sparked a bit from his earlier explosion.

There was ten buttons, a few other switches, and a lever. Wires were hanging out the bottom and flickered a bit. He couldn’t even count how many and some of the Hangul was messy and other parts were in English. His mind was screaming.

Yoongi moved to help when his vision went completely black. He stumbled, not use to being blinded and panic shot through him, as he felt someone slam into him from behind. A grunt escaped his throat as he landed across the ground, unable to see anything.

He could hear shoes scuffing the ground near his head as he raised it, desperate to see something as his jumbled mind fought for an answer when he realized that he wasn’t blind by normal causes. Spark. Reality Warper.

“JIMIN! RUN! REALITY WARPER!” Yoongi screamed, worry for the smaller male whisking through his veins as he moved to make a run for it, but hands grabbed at his hair, yanking his head backwards.

A cry tore through his lips as hot pain raced through him, head being tilted back. He searched the darkness, panicked and afraid because he couldn’t see anything. He reached back and grabbed at the hand holding his hair, the beanie gone.

“Yoongi!” Jimin screamed, hysteria stark in his voice. The hand, which was smaller and soft which made Yoongi believe it was a female holding him, yanked his head further. Another cry tore from his lips, tears stinging in his eyes from his hair.

“Get back, Empower. Hands up,” a female voice snarled in warning. Yoongi felt a cold steel press against the crest of his throat. “As for you, if you can’t see me, you can’t use my fear against me, eh, Reflector?” She hissed harshly in his ear, spittle landing on his ear.

Yoongi hissed through his teeth, anger coursing through his veins but he ignored her. He can handle her- he just needs an opening. “Jimin, go! Get out of here!” He yelled, only to hiss as a sting followed, a warm trail of liquid strolling down his throat.

“You aren’t just a Reflector, are you?” The woman asked, finger tracing his throat with a snarl. “I sense… power… I have never been able to hold someone completely blind for this long. You must be an Enhancer.”

“Maybe. I must say, I have never met a Reality Warper before,” Yoongi gritted, jerked his head away from her but she only tsked and pulled him back. He heard Jimin whimper from afar, and he desperately wished he could see him. “Jimin, get the cameras back up and go. Don’t worry about me.”

Jimin felt frozen, watching the korean woman grip Yoongi by his hair, whose eyes were pure white and unseeing, looking around and yet unable to see anything. Pain was etched into the lines of his features, mouth pinched as the the blood trailed into his shirt.

The Korean woman, a Reality Warper, stood behind him, the silver dagger against his throat. Her black hair was pulled back into a bun, her features sharp and angular, dark eyes cold and heartless as she sent a sickly sweet smile towards Jimin,w ho remained frozen by the fuse box.

He kept his eyes locked on Yoongi. His heart was slamming into his ribcage, thrumming loudly in his ears. He was desperate to help, but eh didn’t know how. He felt helpless and lost and he needed him. He couldn’t leave without him.

The Spark looked back at Jimin. “Make a move and I will slit his pretty, pale throat.”

“She won’t Jimin! She likes the power of the Enhancer! She won’t do it!” Yoongi shouted back only to gasp as she sliced her dagger across his chest. Blood instantly soaked through, peeking through the vest he wore underneath. Yoongi’s face was pinched, lip trembling but he didn’t cry. “Go, Jimin, please!”

Shaking, he hurriedly turned towards the fuse, prayed wo whatever god was out there and listening that for once he didn’t fuck this up like he fucked up everything else and pushed a bit of energy into the fuse, searching to find the disconnections and pushing force into it to keep it moving.

“I’m back on!” Namjoon shouted into the ear piece. Jimin beamed, relief flowing through his veins but it was short lived. A sharp pain went through his leg, stealing his breath as he stumbled into the fuse. A wail ripped through his throat.

“JIMIN!” The pain was blinding. His vision was blurring as he glanced down at his leg and saw the dagger created a huge gash across his calf from where she had thrown it. She now held Yoongi by the throat, a sick smile across her face.

Blood was pooling quickly from the wound, alarm following. He tumbled to the concrete, desperation aiding him as he grabbed his shirt and tore it, wrapping his leg with shaky hands. The pain was so intense, he whimpered before he could stop himself.

“Jimin, baby, listen to me! It isn’t real! Whatever you are seeing, whatever you are feeling, it isn’t real! Run! Jimin, fucking run!” Yoongi screamed. Jimin felt light headed and woozy, he was bleeding? How could this not be happening? He could feel the pain! “She is using my power to get to you! She is making it seem even more real!”

“Shut up!”

He wanted to cry. He felt helpless and he was losing feeling in his leg, but he hated seeing Yoongi being knocked around like a rag doll. His white eyes were sad and afraid, and Jimin wanted to run.

Shakily getting to his feet, Jimin limped for the door on the other side, where Namjoon was originally sending them. Each step was a flare of misery, burning through his leg. He could hear her screaming, could hear Yoongi urging him on, but he felt lost.

“Jimin, Yoongi was right. Step a bit more and you should be out of her range.” Namjoon’s voice filled the ear piece, breaking past his sobs. He moved further, weaving around the machines when the agony vanished.

He froze, sniffling as he fought to catch his breath and glanced at the ground. No blood trail, no cut on his leg. Just a tore shirt wrapped around his leg. A loud breath wheezed through his lungs as he looked around, seeing that he made quite a distance.

“Hyung, is Yoongi alright? What should I do? Should I go help him?” He asked, but his voice cracked. His vision blurred, more tears threatening to fall. He felt so… lost. Lifting his hands, he saw that they were shaking, the purple lightning ricochet off his fingers.

“No, he is handling it. Trust him, Jimin. For now, I need you to pull yourself together. Can you do that?” Jimin nodded mutely, figuring somewhere in the back of his mind that Namjoon could see him using the cameras. “Good, breathe. Remember, you are needed. You can do this.”

“O-okay,” he replied, closing his eyes and focusing his breathing. He cleared his mind, obeying what Yoongi always told him. Don’t think, feel. Follow orders, trust your instincts. Just keep going. He calmed a bit. “Okay, what do you want me to do?”

“There should be a room on the other floor that has no cameras. I saw it on the map, didn’t think anything of it. I want you to check it out. Head down the left hallway,” Namjoon ordered. Nodding, he dropped his hands to his sides and slipped through the darkness. He was jittery, antsy, eyes flickering everywhere as he kept a hand on the gun on his side. “Second right.”

Licking his dry lips, he squinted his eyes through the darkness and saw the outline for a door. Swallowing, he reached out and gripped the cold, metal knob. Turning it slowly, he peeked inside.

It was empty, aside from a few more boxes, an old desk, and a large glass window with a tarp pulled over it flapped against the wind. Moonlight was ghosting the ground like an old friend, casting the room in odd shadows.

“Hyung, the room is empty?” He breathed out, stepping further into the room, brows furrowed. Something was off though. His blood was singing, raging a bit from within. Something was very wrong with this room. “Hyung, what was this room used for? This was a fish factory right?”

“Yes. What do you see?”

“A window, but it looks broken. There is a tarp over it. A few boxes, a desk, and a few other things.” Jimin closed the the door, a smell causing him to stop dead. It was thick, curdling, like iron and rust. Like a bunch of pennies rusting together. It was so strong. “It smells… Hyung, I think I smell blood.”

“Jimin, I don’t have cameras in there. Jimin, stop, don’t move. Wait for Jungkook. Jungkook, head back to the second floor. I see one else on those levels.” Jimin ignored him, not bothered as he felt around the darkroom with his feet. The smell was getting stronger as he moved, touching the oak desk with his fingers.

His brow furrowed. He couldn’t figure out what was bothering him. There was no papers lying around, no bodies, nothing, but the scent of blood was tangling in his senses. Turning, he walked towards the window when the floor sounded funny, like crackling.

His muscles locked, tense as his breathe halted in his throat. Glancing down, he saw the floor was darkened, a unnatural brown that was in a huge pool, spreading out from his feet. HIs eyes bulged in horror.

It was blood.

“Looks like a little mouse found the wrong place,” a voice sneered from behind him. Jimin jerked around, hands shooting out to send electric balls towards the voice. His eyes were wide as a male easily side stepped it, a smirk across his face.

He was on the tall side, and looked a bit European with bleach blond hair, piercing blue eyes that outdid Baekhee’s contacts. His build was on the buff side, and he wore simple black clothing. His skin was naturally sun kissed, as if he spent time in the sun.

His angular features sent Jimin on edge as his thin lips pulled into a cold smile, not looking the least bit bothered by the ball that nearly grazed him. He looked more amused than anything.

“Empower. How interesting,” he mused to himself, looking Jimin up and down. The Empower felt trapped, eyes wide when he realized that he had trapped himself in. The only way out was to get past him, and that wasn’t looking so good. “Looks like I won’t be able to touch you.”

The man slowly walked in a circle, acting like a vulture as he eyed Jimin like a piece of meat. The purple lightning was still dancing on his hands as he watched him back, legs like jelly as he wondered how he was still standing.

“But that’s okay. I don’t need to touch you,” he continued, voice like vinegar to Jimin’s ears, his eyes tracing over him so his skin feeled like oil was lathering itself everywhere his eyes touched. “Are you even a guy? You’re so pretty- so delicate.”

“Are you even a person? You look more like a ape to me,” Jimin snapped back, letting the rush of bravado sharpen his tongue as he glared at the man, who seemed to be in his early thirties, or very late twenties.

The man chuckled, offering a toothy smile that showed off slightly crooked teeth, but still gleaming white like a coyote, ready to take a bite. It set Jimin even more on edge and he wondered how he could send word to Namjoon that he needed help.

“Feisty. How cute.” Jimin bared his teeth, hands clenching by his sides as he stepped forward, ready to fight. He was tired of being pushed around, and this guy made his stomach twist. “I’m going to enjoy tearing you apart.”

“You will have to touch me first, asshole, and you even get close and I will shock you into the next century,” Jimin hissed, lifting his hand where he allowed the electricity to grow on his hand so it was more present as he watched the blond freak continue to circle him.

The man paused, amusement twisting his features as he chuckled darkly, shaking his head like he didn’t have a care in the world. More unease flooded Jimin, drying up his mouth. “Did you know that if Spark’s reach a certain level of pain, their brains revert temporarily towards a human's? The pain causes the extra part of their mind to shut down, turning more premature at the amount of stress their body is enduring.”

The unease turned to full blown alarm as his body tensed, gritting his teeth as he watched the male stop in front of him, raking his blue eyes that were like ice, watery and tantalizing, trail over his body.

“Answer me, darling. Did you know?”

Jimin pried open his mouth. “No.” He hated that pet name, hated the way it rolled off his tongue so easily and smoothly. He hated it, like he already hated this man. The grin was like a cheshire cats.

“Did you know that there is Spark that control inner functions of a human's body, bones, and brain? In other words, they have the unique ability to make the body do whatever it wishes just by thinking it,” he continued. His vision tunneled. “They have gained many names over the years. I think my favorite is based off an american movie. Bone Collector.”

“S-so?” Jimin breathed, but his voice wobbled. The man chuckled again, more amusement across his face as he stepped a bit closer, smirking coldly.

“I will never understand why you people fight against Iron Clad. I can control any human body I want, you have the astounding ability to generate electricity. Fuck the Ring of Maces and fuck humans. Join us, darling, and let Spark’s have this world. Let us be known.”

“At what cost?” Jimin back out, snarling in outrage at what he was suggesting. Was he seriously trying to get Jimin to join Iron Clad? When he was here to fight against them? “If I cut you right now, you bleed red blood. If I electrocute you, you still burst blood vessels. We aren’t any better than humans! We have no right to take over anything,” he shouted. “A Spark is still a human, powers or not. We still think, we still feel. We are as human as the next.”

The Bone Collector pursed his lips, cocking his head to the side as he stared down at Jimin with raised brows. No emotion could be read in those crystal eyes that set him back on edge.

“What a pity. I was hoping you would just agree. You are much too pretty for this.” Before Jimin could ask what he met, red hot agony spread through his leg as a crack sounded through the air, breaking the odd silence that fell across the room.

Collapsing to the ground, Jimin screamed. The pain was ten times as intense as the illusion from earlier. Tears were streaming down his face as he laid on the ground, unable to move, to feel his leg. Black spots danced across his vision.

He wasn’t sure how long he was lying there, whimpering and crying, too afraid to move for the pain in his leg went into a steady, pain filled thorb as the man walked over and easily picked up his hand- devoid of lightning.

“See? The pain has caused you to be revert back to human- like you wanna be,” he sneered, dropping it back to the floor. Jimin moaned, wishing he could at least give the finger, but was too tired. His leg hurt so bad. The man stood, leaning for the other leg. “I wonder how much you will take before passing out. You and your little friends cause so much trouble.”

Jimin only closed his eyes and turned his head away. He didn’t care. All this did was prove that his family was fighting on the right side. They were fighting for people. For life. Despite the death around them.

“Jimin! Cover your ears! Jimin!” Jungkook shouted, the door slamming against the wall as the younger appeared there. Blood covered some of his clothes, a cut on his cheek, but most of the blood didn’t seem to be his.

Without thinking, Jimin obeyed weakly. He reached up and covered his ears just as the man stood fast, shooting out a hand and a crack sounded. Jungkook hissed, clutching his wrist to his chest as he snarled at the man, opening his mouth.

Jimin was stunned when he heard the most beautiful sound. Soft notes, alluring and gentle, and yet so sad. He could hear it past his hands as he stared at Jungkook, singing softly. His heart was aching, desperate.

Why was he so sad? Why was he so upset? I must make him feel better… he is so sad… Jimin thought, tears flooding his eyes. Die… he wants me to die for him. He wants me to die. Jimin moved to remove his hands, wanting to hear more of the sad song, to hear his voice.

The man was full out sobbing, nails raking over the flesh of his chest, gathering skin under his nails as blood splattered across the ground. Jungkook kept singing, his voice growing louder. The man sobbed harder, tearing at where his heart was.

Suddenly hands were helping his hands covering his ears. He thrashed, wanting to hear the song as he looked up, catching sight of Tae who had ear plugs within his ears and tears glittering in his eyes. “Don’t listen to him, Jiminie! Don’t listen!”

Jimin shook his head, nails beginning to rake across his wrists. All he could hear was his song, calling to him. He had to die. He had to die. He wasn’t good enough, he needed to make him happy. He sounded so sad.

Everything went black.

Chapter Text

“Mommy,” Jimin whispered, watching his mother move about his room, tidying it a bit. Hearing her name, she paused, and glanced up at her son as he sat up in bed, fiddling with his night shirt. Her heart ached in her chest when she saw sadness making his eye smile dull and his lip become raw from abuse. “Does daddy dislike me?”

A pang tore through her heart, staring at the face of her eldest son, so small and yet so astute for someone only of seven years of age. He was always so small, and delicate. Gentle as a flower and as charming as can be despite his young age.

But she never wanted to hear this question. It made everything inside her ache. A seven year old boy should never have to ask such a question, or even know what it entails, but Jimin knew. Her little angel knew.

Dropping the clothes, she swept to the side of the bed and settled next to him, cupping his full cheeks in her hands. He kept looking down at his bedding in shame, brown eyes watery. He was so precious, and she loved him so much.

“Angel, look at me,” she murmured, biting back tears as he lifted his head, sniffling pitifully as the late hour dwindled. She offered a small smile, kissing his forehead gently. “Daddy doesn’t dislike you, baby, he is just… he’s a businessman, so he… gets busy.”

Jimin’s lip trembled, but he gave a little smile but she knew it was just sate her. Cradling him close, he settled them on the bed, letting him snuggle close and wrap his arms around her waist as he laid there. She played with his hair, smiling gently.

“How did you and daddy meet again?” He mumbled tiredly, wondering his mother fell in love with a man like his father, so strict and cold and distant, while his mother was like warmth, fresh baked cinnabons, and his favorite blanket.

Chuckling lightly, she ruffled his hair and gave a smile. “I like to say it was our serendipity,” she said, smiling again. Jimin’s little brow furrowed, lifting his head to meet his mother’s eyes in confusion as he pouted.

“Serenippty?” He attempted to pronounce, which had her giggling as she kissed his nose.

“Serendipity. It means finding happiness in something unexpected,” she explained gently. His nose wiggled as he thought it over, blinking, and then giggled. “Like, you finding the stars by the telescope one night. It was completely accidental, but something good came out of it- or that calico cat that you kept. The way I met your daddy was the same way.”

“You found him hurt by a dumpster?” Little Jimin asked, confused and amused at the idea of his daddy being hurt by a dumpster. His mother laughed and shook her head, kissing him all over his face as he giggled and settled back down. “Tell me, mommy!”

“Well, we met when I was fifteen years old, and it was by accident. My mother sent me to the store late one night to get some medicine for my dad, and because of the hour, I was very tired. I headed to the store, and there I accidently ran into someone when I was carrying my small bag of groceries. Milk ended up all over his shoes.”

Jimin giggled, amused by the idea. She smiled and waited for his giggles to die down and looked up at the ceiling. It felt just like yesterday that this happened. Running into a handsome stranger in the store late one night and how made he was about his shoes.

“What happened then? Was daddy mad?” Jimin asked, fighting back a yawn but was intrigued by the story. He had never heard the story and he was curious. He was determined to stay awake like a big boy and learn all about it.

“Oh yes. He was very upset. I apologized plenty of times, but he wasn’t having it. So, I had to take him home to get him cleaned up and see about a money for a new pair.” She giggled at the memory, rolling her eyes as she remembered how cheeky and blunt the boy was. “After all that, I never thought I would see him again. But, serendipity had it’s way. I saw him a few months later at the store and funny enough, he forgot his wallet and was trying to buy dinner. I bought it for him and to repay me, he took me out for coffee.”

“Coffee is gross, mommy! So bitter!” Jimin whined, shaking his head with a scrunched nose as he buried his face in her side. She laughed and tickled his head, gasping in hurt as he burst into laughter at the tickle assault.

“What’s so wrong with coffee! It’s yummy!”

“Bubble tea, mommy! It’s better!” Jimin giggled. She smiled at him, settling back again with a small shake to her head. Jimin adjusted his tiny body, shifting so he sat up a bit and his black hair fell over his eyes as he beamed. “What then?”

“Well, we found out that we liked being together. He took me to dinners, bookstores, and coffee shops. We talked all the time. I sound out he was seventeen and studying buisness management. I was a biology major and when we had know each other for a year, we started dating. Another year after that we were engaged,” she finished, smiling. Jimin smiled sleepily as she continued to play with his hair. “So, see, he isn’t a bad guy he is just… a hard worker.”

Jimin nodded, yawning again as his mother hummed softly to him. Sleepy, he settled further in the sheets as she leaned down and kissed his cheek. He smiled a bit, peeking open his eyes once more as she climbed out of bed and slipped him under the covers.

The sheets felt cold against his skin as he cuddled against his covers and grinned up sleepily up to his mother who settled back on the edge, grinning back at him gently. Jimin blinked himself to keep himself awake.

“Mommy, how did you know when you loved daddy?” He mumbled, slurred a bit from sleep. She paused and looked up towards the ceiling as she thought about how to answer. Jimin waited patiently, not minding the quiet as she adjusted the blanket.

“Jimin, you know you love someone when seeing them smile makes you smile,” she answered. Jimin blinked. “Loving someone means you think about their needs, seeing them smile, cry, or even know what makes them so afraid they can’t even think. It means despite that, you still care about them.”

A groan rumbled through his throat, the dream fading away as his mouth was dry and like sandpaper. A throb was settled between his eyes, gently knocking across the span of his forehead as he shifted, hands clenching around the fabric that smelled like strawberries- his own scent.

His entire body felt stiff, his mind jumbled and chaotic, running into one another and woozy. Cracking his eyes open, he parted his dry lips as he stared at the ceiling of his own room. A ceiling he had stared at a hundred times before, the darkness casting little splotches to reside there.

There was twenty three dots of light. He knew that from the many times he had counted them like sheep till he fell asleep. Breathing in shallowly, he blinked to knock the drowsiness from his mind, narrowing his eyes as he tried to recall what happened.

His room was dark, signalling that it was late, or at least night outside, and his room was chilly. He was lying under his covers, head on the pillow and was on his back. His hand was warm- incredibly warm.

Brow furrowing, he weakly clenched his stiff fingers only to feel a gruff hand nestled on his small one. Eyes widening, he craned his head and saw that Yoongi was sitting by his bedside, head resting across his mattress and hand loose across Jimin’s.

Yoongi’s face was lax in sleep, hair fluffed up and messy, and his breathing soft as he slept. Blinking, he carefully reached out and sank his fingers in Yoongi’s soft hair, relieved to see him and heart soft for the sleeping elder when memories slammed into him.

“Jimin, baby, listen to me! It isn’t real! Whatever you are seeing, whatever you are feeling, it isn’t real! Run! Jimin, fucking run!”

“Don’t listen to him, Jiminie! Don’t listen!”

Panic shot through him, stealing his breath when he remembered wanting to die, the song, Yoongi being caught by the Reality Warper and Tae begging him to not listen. He remembered the way Tae cradled his ears, sobbing above him and the pain in his wrists. It was fuzzy, but fear was racing through him.

Feeling the tightness of his hair, Yoongi woke up, blinking a bit as he raised his head and was greeted by a trembling Jimin, whose eyes were filling with tears and breathing laboured and too fast.

“Jimin, shit, you’re awake,” Yoongi muttered, instantly shooting up and gripping Jimin’s hands that were shaking in front of him absently, body pushed up as his panicked eyes looked around the room, wet sobs echoing throughout the room.

Heart aching, he clutched Jimin’s hand and bit his lip when he felt energy thrum through his system in little zaps, but it wasn’t overly painful. It just stunned him a moment as he pulled the tiny, soft hands to his chest, letting them rest there as his dark eyes searched through the dark to meet Jimin’s.

“Jimin, baby, I’m right here, it’s okay. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep, it’s alright. I’m right here, you’re safe now,” Yoongi promised gruffly, keeping his hands locked around Jimin’s clammy ones as the boy sobbed harder. He hated the sound, hated the fear that etched into his features.

Wide, wet eyes looked up and locked on Yoongi’s, and instantly Yoongi softened more as he freed one hand and cradled Jimin’s cheek, wiping away stray tears with his thumb as Jimin sniffled. “It’s alright, kitten. I won’t let anything happen to you,” Yoongi promised.

Jimin melted, soaking up the affection like a fucking drug addict as he shifted his body, moving to get closer and Yoongi didn’t seem to mind as he grabbed Jimin’s hips and pulled him onto his lap, cradling him there and rubbing Jimin’s back.

“I am so, so sorry I wasn’t there. You did so good, so good,” Yoongi promised when Jimin finally quieted, sinking into Yoongi’s hold where his scent was surrounding him and he felt so good, so right, nestled in his lap. His fingers were going through his hair and for once, it felt like Yoongi wasn’t putting up a barrier.

“W-what happened?” Jimin finally mumbled, pulling away from Yoongi before the elder would deny him. He wasn’t sure he can handle that right now, he felt shaky and disoriented, but much better after having Yoongi treat him so… lovingly.

His skin was buzzing in ways that had nothing to do with his powers. His heart was skipping a couple of beats, racing across his chest like a free stallion, and he felt his cheeks were a little warm when he realized the position that they were in wasn’t exactly… friends?

But he liked it. He liked the fact he fit so perfectly in his lap, the way Yoongi’s hands rested so finely, domestically, across his hips like they were meant to be there, and the gentleness in which he spoke. The pet names made his stomach clench in happiness and his heart to flutter more than the butterflies.

He wasn’t where the affection was coming from, or why, but the part of him that knew he was falling for him was contented, sated like a fat cat, while the other part of him was screaming like a banshee, angry and confused.

Why was Yoongi doing this? It didn’t make any sense. He didn’t feel like being tugged around again, but Yoongi was so different from Cheol. He touched him like a flower, a precious rose that was in full bloom, while Cheol treated him like he was withering, rotting away and not worth his time.

Yoongi was… different. So, so different, and now he didn’t know what to do. He just knew that he had fallen a little bit harder, a little bit faster, from his gruff, husky voice being as gentle as a lullaby and the fondness in which he treated him.

He wanted to curse his heart- he knows what falling in love entails. Yoongi may be pleasant and charming now, and the male was, but he was still distant and cold. Jimin should know better by now than to tangle with someone.

Yoongi frowned when Jimin moved away, slipping out of his lap which now felt empty. Disliking it, after everything that happened, he pulled Jimin back and locked his arms around his waist, feeling the way Jimin gasped, cheeks hot as he blinked.

“Hyung?” Jimin felt the arms around his stomach tightened, his hyungs buried in his neck as he breathed in, taking up the fruity, strawberry scent of the man who has kept him awake.

“Jimin, I was so worried about you. I…” Yoongi shuddered, his breathing a bit louder than usual. The ash blond startled when he felt something warm and wet press into his shirt. Yoongi was… crying? “Fuck… I don’t know what to say I just… I suck at this shit! I’m not sappy or… fucking hell.”

“Hyung… you’re scaring me.” It wasn’t a lie. Worry was searing his insides. He didn’t understand what was happening or why Yoongi was crying as his shirt slowly dampened with silent tears. Jimin wished he could see, but Yoongi wasn’t relenting.

Yoongi gave a wet chuckle, his hold loosening. Jimin took this chance to crawl off his lap and face the older, who kept his head down as his shoulder shook. Carefully, Jimin lifted Yoongi’s face.

He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes and his hair messy. The Reflector had little tears sliding down his pale cheeks and a sad look etched within his dark eyes as he searched Jimin’s features,

Jimin was speechless. He didn’t know what to say.

“Hyung, what-”

Yoongi cut him off by reaching up, cupping Jimin’s face and bringing their lips together. Stunned, the younger froze, eyes blowing huge like saucers at the unexpected move. The older didn’t seem to mind, only tilting Jimin’s head so he can have more access to his mouth, mashing their lips together somewhat roughly, rushing a bit.

Finally, Jimin managed to snap out of it, slipping into the kiss as he groaned low in his throat. Ever since the first time he kissed Yoongi when he was drunk, he had been dreaming of kissing him again. He tasted like freedom.

Fisting his hands in Yoongi’s hair, he sat himself up as Yoongi dominated, gripping Jimi’s hip and slipping his wet muscle into his mouth, brandishing his taste and concerning what was his. Jimin loved it. He felt hot, skin prickling and answering to Yoongi.

Yoongi let out a guttural growl, pulling away for a brief second to gather air before nipping at Jimin’s lip, pulling it with his teeth that had Jimin moaning as he gripped his hips harder and pressed their foreheads together.

Jimin was breathing just as hard, eyes hooded and bit dazed as Yoongi hovered over him, looking hungry and yet, affectionate as he stared at the younger with careful eyes. Jimin wasn’t sure how or why this was happening, but every single piece of his body was screaming, begging to be touched.

“You… you kissed me…” Jimin stammered, unsure why that, of all fucking things, was the first thing that popped out of his mouth after being attacked with heavenly lips by the man he had been obsessing over for a long time.

But the smile he got in return was blinding, worth everything. It showcased his cute, pink gums and white teeth, making him seem younger and less like the grandpa people tease him to be. Smiling like that, like a boy who is seeing something dazzling, he looked young.

He looked angelic.

“And I am pretty sure you kissed me back, kitten, possibly having some moaning in there. I guess the cat did get your tongue after all,” he said cheekily, flashing a wink. Jimin groaned, squeaking a bit, as he covered his face with his hands in embarrassment.

“Bastard.” Yoongi chuckled at the whiny answer, reaching over and gently prying Jimin’s tiny hands from his face. Jimin’s eyes were locked on the comforter, that blush staining his cheeks. “Why did you kiss me?”

Yoongi went quiet, glancing down at the sheets as his hand fell back to his side. Jimin waited, searching and a bit desperate. He didn’t understand this, and he felt like he was out of depth. How was he supposed to react to this?

Moreover… what now? What happens now?

Yoongi bit the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes as he scrambled for words- the very thing that always betrayed him when he remembered the song he was writing earlier. He wrote because it was how he felt.

Maybe now… now he can quote it.

Breathing in slowly, his heart racing and nerves clinging to him like a second skin, he swallowed and looked up to meet Jimin’s waiting, brown eyes. He was afraid to fuck up again, to say the wrong thing. He was never good at this and now that it was happening, he felt frightened. Lost.

But Jimin was Jimin, and somehow, like always, he knew. Gently, he reached out and laid his hand over him, cradling it there and offering silent reassurance. It was so soft and inexplicable.

Looking back up, he met Jimin’s eyes. “I’m not gonna lie… I don’t know how I feel, or why I feel it. I have an idea, but it’s something I can’t explain nor will try. I have never been good with words, unless I can sketch them across a sheet of paper and attach a note and tunes with it.” Jimin giggled, not looking bothered as he squeezed Yoongi’s hand, a pleading to continue. “I am not good with feelings, or affection. I don’t know when to shut up or drop things. I provoke and I bite, and I push people away without even thinking about it. But you? You are still here.”

Jimin flushed, heart beginning to race again as he glanced up at Yoongi through his lashes. Yoongi faltered a bit, biting his lip and running a hand through his messy hair as he looked around the room like a lost lamb.

Hoping to offer more assurance, Jimin pushed himself forward, touching Yoongi’s head and running his fingers through the strands, letting the soft, slightly greasy fringe fall through his fingers. Yoongi melted, breathing out slowly.

“I don’t know what it is about you, or why. I don’t know why I am even saying all this in the first place.” Yoongi laughed, a bit sad and deluded, a little lost within his own mind but Jimin didn’t mind. He just watched. “It’s such trivial things I like. You're so smart and yet act so damn dumb I get whiplash. You’re helpful and kind,a nd so brave but undeniably weak but that makes you stronger. The way you laugh at jin’s stupid dad jokes, and how you cover your mouth when you laugh cause you are afraid of looking bad. The way you are just there, and you try. I don't know. I can’t call it love, because I don’t know you well enough for that.”

Speechless, Jimin pulled away to stare at Yoongi in shock, and for once the older didn’t look away and didn’t seem abashed by his words because he stared back, searching Jimin’s features, reading him and seeing him, and gave a little smile.

“I don’t have much to offer you, I really don’t. I don’t want to label us, nor do I want a official relationship with someone, and this is going to be so fucking selfish, but it’s all I know because I look at you and you just…” Yoongi sighed, looking away as his hands settled in his lap, fiddling a bit. “I am a inconsiderate bastard. I look at you and I want you but I don’t. I… I don’t know what to do. I want you for myself but I can’t handle labels and I… Fuck! I don’t know what I want.”

Biting his lip, he watched with hollowed eyes towards Yoongi as the older struggled, dark orbs looking lost and afraid as Yoongi stood, pacing the room like a aggravated tiger, unsure of the thoughts pounding in his head or the feelings he has.

Jimin felt like an intruder; he didn’t understand. He did, but he didn’t. He didn’t love Yoongi- he could agree to that. But there wasn’t a word in the Korean language to describe how it feels to be noticed. A slow descent before falling fast first.

More than that, he was afraid. He wasn’t expecting this. Wasn’t ready for Yoongi to kiss him, or tell him these things that left his head spinning and heart leaping into the next century into delight because it was a chance.

What were you supposed to answer this with? In truth, he wanted to run away and try and forget. Heartbreak was something he was eerily familiar with and he just couldn’t with Yoongi- with the people who mean more to him than his own family.

Suddenly yoongi paused in his rapid pacing, which honestly was the most exercise Jimin had seen from the male that wasn’t force and of his own free will, and turned back to the younger.

“All I know is, seeing you unconscious in Taehyung’s arms...blood from your wrists and shame and guilt across Jungkook… I… I felt lost and like… like I was having a panic attack,” Yoongi whooshed out in one breathe, a bit out of sorts. “I couldn’t think and all I thought about was how… how kind you are, and sassy, and sexy, and just, fuck I am so god damn sappy.”

Flinching at his own words, he licked his lips as the memory of the hell that went down last night slammed back in his mind, the feeling of terror and fear and sheer rage at seeing the usually lively Jimin tore at him.

He let the feelings wash over him, mind jerking back to how he had found him and the hell that traced his steps right after like a good puppy hoping for a treat.

“Fuck! What the fuck is happening! Jesus Christ! I can’t see Jungkook, Taehyung, or Jimin!” Namjoon shouted into the earpiece, anger and fear like flames in his words as Yoongi pulled himself to his feet, flinching at the pain in his side where the stab wound tugged.

It hurt, but it wasn’t fatal. He moved just in time before the bitch stabbed in a not so wonderful place. Hissing through his teeth, he gripped his side and tried to clog the steady flow of blood and focused on Namjoon’s words, mind plagued by Jimin.

He had to find Jimin.

“Hoseok! Where the fuck are you? Seokjin, head back to the car. Bring the people you found and we will have Bang send them out to Homebound,” Namjoon ordered. Jin replied instantly as Yoongi straightened, groaning a bit in pain. “Yoongi, are you alright? You aren’t looking so hot.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“He’s fine. He’s being a dick as usual,” Hoseok chimed in.  Yoongi rolled his eyes and wished he had more energy to tell him off but he didn’t have the time since Namjoon started shouting orders. Yoongi paid him no mind.

Picking up his pace, he moved like a wraith through the halls and slipped up the stairs where he heard a sound that caused his bones to tremble, his blood to curdle, and red hot panic mixed with rage to flood his system.

“Jungkook stop! You’re killing him! You’re fucking killing Jimin!”  And the siren sound ceased, releasing Yoongi’s mind from it’s dark clutches but the panic remained as he forgot about the wound on his side as he ran towards the door, slamming his body inside.

Jungkook was trembling, brown eyes like saucers as he stared in utter horror at the sight in front of him. A blond european  looking man was lying in a puddle of his own blood, eyes glassy and shredded skin under his nails while Jungkook was clutching his broken wrist to his chest.

Jimin was off to the side, eyes closed and chest heaving uneven breathes. His hands were covered in blood where they had torn the skin, gathering it under from the harshness in which he raked his nails across them. Tae was sobbing, clutching Jimin close as he stood, cradling the much smaller boy near.

Yoongi stumbled, seeing Jimin limb in his arms while tae sobbed hysterically and the growing pool of blood from the Bone Collector only grew as seconds passed from the whole that ad been gauged by his own destruction.

Jungkook looked up at Yoongi’s entrance, and the rest of his lack of color washed away with it as he looked from Jimin back towards Yoongi. The look on his face was enough. The elder knew. “You fucking used your power in the presence of Jimin?” Yoongi shouted, pinning his glare on Jungkook.

“Yoongi? Yoongi? What’s happening? I can’t see you anymore! Yoongi! Someone answer me!” Namjoon shouted into the earpiece, but no one moved as Jungkook opened his mouth, tears tumbling down his cheeks as his broken wrist creaked when he moved, causing a flinch of agony.

“I-I didn’t have a choice, Yoongi!” Jungkook pleaded, biting back a sob as Tae held jimin close, watching him with worried eyes and sadness gripping the brown iris. The words was like another slap in the face. ‘The Bone Collector was too far and he broke my good hand and I can’t shoot with my left and I panicked!”

“You fucking-” Yoongi hissed, reaching forward and slammed his fist into Jungkook’s fast. The younger didn’t block it, merely tumbled to the floor with his lip busted and blood streaking across the carpet. Tae screeched, shock stark across his face.

“Kookie!” Jungkook looked up, blood dripping from his lip as he shook his head at Tae, who paused and stayed still, but had more tears trailing down his cheeks as the youngest looked back at Yoongi with ashamed eyes.

“You could have killed him!”

“So could have the Bone Collector! You aren’t thinking straight, Yoongi!” Tae shouted back, stepping on front of Jungkook and staring down at Yoongi with desperation. Shaking with rage and fear, Yoongi settled his eyes on Jimin, staring at his pale face, lips chapped and face scrunched with pain even in sleep.

Something in Yoongi broke a bit, flashing back to merely a hour or so ago when Jimin was well and his usual self, offering little smiles and being there. He felt like the air from his lungs had been torn away, seeing how he was now.

It was also when he realized just how much Jimin has done to wiggle into him, wiggle closer and closer to his closed off heart and he knew things couldn’t remain the same. He can’t stay away anymore. He can’t hide anymore behind a notebook and a pen.

“Hyung, we have to go,” Tae whispered, noticing the change of his facial expression. “We need medical attention and to head out before more we can’t defeat find us.”

“After what Jungkook did… I…” sighing, he ran another hand through his hair as Jimin looked up, the fuzzy memory appearing in his mind as the rock formed in his stomach, stealing his breathe.

The song… the desire to die.

Lifting his wrists quickly, he examined the smooth flesh and nearly cried in relief as he touched it gently. There wasn’t a scratch left. Closing his eyes, he dropped his hand back in his lap as he tried to recall everything that happened.

“Hyung… Kookie, he-”

“He’s a Song Weaver, Jimin,” Yoongi instantly interjected, turning towards him with an unreadable expression. Jimin blinked, mouth agape as he his fought to understand. The elder read his face as he settled back on the edge of the bed and took his hand. “A Song Weaver is one who produces a sound connected to their frontal lobe in their brain that causes others brains to inject a signal of great sorrow and depression, a deep seed of agony that they wish to die for the sadness to stop. Think of him like a Siren- when he sings, anyone who hears will want to die.”

The room felt cold as Jimin withdrew his hand, needing space, air to breathe at the shock of information that made the rock settle deeper and his gut to churn. The image of Jungkook’s bunny smile, scrunched nose, and bright eyes was instantly replaced with the look he gets anytime they mention using his power.

He was death. Literal death to any who hears his song. The pressure on the sixteen year old kid, watching as people die by the power of your own voice. It made sadness clutched it in a tight grip, the ache unwavering.

His eyes suddenly widened, realizing how the younger must feel about the fact jimin knows now. He knows and worse… he felt it’s effects. Felt the way he wanted to die, he had to die. He had to die for Jungkook.

“Okay- so wait,” jimin breathed, becoming a bit panicked for the younger. All he could think about was the fact that Jungkook was like this little brother. Like Jihyun. What if Ji had this power? “So, how am ..? How is Kookie? And Tae? Fuck, I can’t remember much. It’s so fuzzy…”

“You’re alive because Tae stopped Jungkook in time before you did anything too damaging, don’t worry. Everyone is back here and safe,” Yoongi promised, letting Jimin have his space, but the desire to reach out and touch him was overwhelming. Right now telling Jimin that Jungkook had locked himself up in his room, refusing to even speak, wouldn’t help anything right now.

The younger needed to breathe. He needed time to settle and process everything because when morning comes, things will be different. Things need to be said and with Jungkook and Yoongi currently… in a cold war… there wasn’t time for anything.

At the words, he relaxed. His bones ached, and his mind felt messy. Everything was too much, and yet not enough. Exhaustion was stealing his thoughts, hiding them beneath a layer of drowsiness.

He wanted to go see everyone, to make sense of this conversation with Yoongi, and to make sense of what was happening but everything was catching up to him/. A yawn broke past his barriers, which Yoongi caught and smiled.

“Come on, beautiful. You should sleep a bit more. Minho warned me that you might be a bit tired,” yoongi explained, standing and pulling the covers back. Jimin didn’t argue as he settled himself back under the covers as Yoongi crawled in on the other side.

For a moment, silence settled over the dup as they settle against the bed, Jimin turning slowly to face the older. The sheets were warm against his skin, but the heat coming from the Enhancer only made him sleepier as he stared absently at him.

Yoongi was studied his features, taking in the barely there freckles that dusted his cheeks, the way his lashes brushed against his squishy cheeks when he blinked, and the natural dusting of pink across his cheeks.

He looked so beautiful, laying there with his hand under his cheek and a hint of nerves dancing in his eyes as they traced the outline of his own profile, teeth nibbling on the skin on the inside of his cheek.

The room was quiet, only the sound of their soft breathing as they watched each other, the space between them small and yet a bit further than Yoongi liked, but he wasn’t ready to overstep his boundaries.

“Yoongi?” Jimin whispered, lifting his eyes to meet his. Yoongi stared back, humming to acknowledge he had spoken. The younger blushed a bit, licking his lips quickly to add moisture. Yoongi’s eyes followed the movement. “What does this mean for us? You say that you… want me but you don’t want a relationship? I can’t do this if you are just going to use me. I can’t do that again. I won’t put myself out there only to be squashed like the last time. Not from you.”

Stunned, Yoongi pushed himself up as he stared down at the blond in surprise, but Jimin didn’t waver  as he gave a sad smile, sitting up as well when he touched his heart and then dropped his hand back to his lap.

“I really like you. I hate myself for it, but I won’t lie to myself anymore,” Jimin murmured, shrugged his shoulders sadly. “And after you have been saying these things, I felt like I needed to be honest to. You make me feel like a person, like I am not weak or ugly, but something important. You don’t use me for sex, you treat me with respect, and you speak to me like I… like I am not some dumb kid. We may bicker a bit, and we clash sometimes, but at the end of the day, I know you care about me. I know you truly do.”

Jimin looked back up, the same fire and determination glinting in his eyes like bright crystals that glimmered with warmth and fondness, an affection that Jimin seemed to give off around Yoongi like a beacon.

Jungkook may be the siren of the group, but Jimin was the pied piper. He was so gentle and caring, a little weird and boisterous, but he calls to people with his smile and laughter. Yoongi felt his heart swell, something he didn’t understand. It swelled for Tae and Kookie, and for the others too, but with Jimin it was different.

“About last week… I am so fucking sorry for how I treated you. I was just… I don’t know I was angry at myself and how you were right and I just… I’m really sorry, hyung. I see why you call me a kid sometimes…” He gave a little giggle, sniffling, as he looked down. “Forgive me? I know you were trying to help me now.”

Yoongi looked down. Last week was a bad week in general and he was still wondering what caused the drastic change in the younger, but he wasn’t offering information and he wasn’t about to pry.

“You don’t have to apologize. I was kinda a dick too, so it was mutual,” Yoongi promised, offering a half smile. Jimin looked over and gave a cheeky grin, the light returning a bit to his eyes as he giggled again.

“Yeah, but you are always a dick, so what was I expecting?” He countered cutely, poking out his tongue playfully. Yoongi groaned and shoved him gently, causing the younger to laugh, hand lifting to cover his mouth. “Okay, okay, you aren’t that much- no, actually you are, but it’s okay. You’re the best kind.”

“I totally took that the wrong way.” Jimin made a noise before grabbing the pillow and bashing Yoongi in the face. The older broke into a light laughter that was soon followed by the younger as he dropped the pillow back down.

When the laughter finally died away, Jimin was looking back at the sheets and picking at the fabric absently. Yoongi sobered and scooted a bit closer, wanting to Jimin to know what he was thinking about.

“Hyung, I can’t be played with again. I need to start respecting myself at least enough to not continue to hurt myself. I mean it… I really like you, and I would like to know you more, and I can agree that calling it love is wrong, but I won’t lie and say I feel nothing,” Jimin explained slowly, biting his lip and pausing in playing with his fabric.

Closing his eyes, Yoongi settled the churning in his gut, forcing open his mouth and letting him speak what has been plaguing his mind. “I am not playing with you. I don’t have the energy for that.” Jimin slapped his arm, but was smiling. Yoongi counted that as a win. “I just can’t label it as anything is because… I have never been in a relationship before. I don’t know how to be in one. I am…” He inhaled sharply. “Scared. I’m scared of it. I need time. I’m not going to play with you, because I can’t. I really like you too, and I wanna try this, but I need time. So, what I am asking is, will you…. Be patient with me? I want this, but I need to-”

Jimin cut him off by placing his finger against the elder’s lips, watching as he fell quiet instantly. He smiled and removed his hand, but kept his eyes on Yoongi, to make sure he knew he was serious.

“If this is what you want, that you want to try this, then I can wait. I can be patient with you. If you don’t want to label anything, don’t. We can take it at whatever pace you want,” Jimin promised. He wasn’t sure why, but he did want this. After everything with Cheol, Yoongi felt like a breathe of fresh air, and if he wanted to wait, then Jimin could do.

It felt odd, and like he would wake up tomorrow morning and this would all be a dream. It wasn’t. He knows that, but it felt like one. Like some anime that Taetae loved to watch where the girl realizes the boy likes her back.

It wasn’t a perfect dream, of course. They weren’t dating. But they were something. It wasn’t a perfect relationship and for once, Jimin was alright with that. Jimin was scared too, but he wasn’t going to let fear rule his life forever.

Yoongi seemed to sag in relief, his hands instantly reaching for Jimin’s where he entwined their fingers. “Thank you. I just… all my life I haven’t had anyone. When I am horny, I go to a bar and fuck and leave. I have never had strings attached and I know you deserve someone who can offer things but-”

“Yoongi, it’s fine,” Jimin interjected gently. The white haired male fell silent before nodding slowly. Smiling, he let Yoongi tug him gently into a kiss. It was different from the ones from earlier. It was soft, filled with hesitation and gentleness.

It wasn’t much, but Jimin loved it, because there was feeling behind. A delicacy he craved.

When they pulled away, Yoongi was blushing a bit and hid his face in a pillow. Smiling to himself, Jimin laid down next to him, snuggling against his back and closing his eyes. He felt the soft rise and fall of Yoongi’s chest, and it was like a lullaby.

“Goodnight, Honey Bunches.”

“I actually hate you.”

“But you just did a sweet little couple kiss, Honey Bunches. Next up is eskimo kisses,” Jimin teased sleepily. He felt Yoongi reach around and smack his ass gently, but Jimin moaned loudly in his ear, earning a kiss.

“Bad kitten.” That put a sour look on Jimin’s face, matching a pout.

“I am not a kitten.”

“Five bucks you're pouting.” Jimin steeled his face instantly.

 

******

 

When Jimin awoke again, the light of the sun was casted over his face, warming his skin and stealing the ability to sleep. Groaning, Jimin pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes tiredly, feeling exhausted even though he probably slept a bit more than he meant to.

Blinking away the crust in his eyes, he glanced at where he fell asleep next to Yoongi. A pang of disappointment ran through him when he realized that the older wasn’t there. Frowning, he tried to not let it show.

“He must be busy if he is awake earlier than me,” he mumbled to himself before pushing himself out of bed and grabbing a change of clothes. He felt a bit giddy, remembering last night and the fact that something had happened. He didn’t know what to expect, but he was content.

Exiting the bathroom, he showered quickly, not wanting to linger since the memories of the other night started swarming his head and he was eager to see everyone and make sure they were all fine. The worry was gnawing at his stomach like hungry wolves.

After cleaning his hair, he crawls out and dresses in simple jeans and a long sleeved shirt before fluffing his hair and adding a bit of liner. He wanted to look good today, and the nerves at seeing Yoongi again prickled across his skin as he stared at his reflection.

The same eyes stared back, a bit more prominent with the added makeup and the blond hair damp and starting to fluff from the towel dry. Biting his lip, he looked the same as always. It caused unease to spread through his system but he fought it away.

Now wasn’t the time.

Exiting the bathroom, he slipped on some socks before padding down the stairs when he heard voices coming from the living room, one being unfamiliar. The frown returned to his face, biting his lip a bit harder as he paused, wondering if he should come back later.

“It doesn’t matter about what happened last night. We saved three Sparks from Iron Clad and killed fifteen of them,” Namjoon spoke up, voice booming and firm. He was in his leader mode. “It was a messy night, yes, but it was too be expected. We have a new member and that complicates things, Bang.”

“Three members of Iron Clad- at least- escaped last night and now their numbers have doubled, Namjoon,” a deeper, older voice retorted, a bit sharply. He blinked, realizing that Bang, the Burst Spark and one of the leaders, was here. He wasn’t a head, so who was he, exactly? “You were supposed to take them all out of the picture so no one could report your own numbers and powers to others. We do not have the luxury of such mess ups.”

“I am well aware of that, Bang, but shit happens. We were caught off guard last night. No one was expecting the outcome and we are lucky we came out of there all intact,” Namjoon answered, sounding exhausted. “Yoongi nearly died since he was stabbed and the fucking idiot pushed himself. Jungkook… we will discuss that later, and then our newest member almost died as well.”

“Because of Jungkook,” Bang jabbed lightly. Jimin’s hand tightened on the railing and he heard a harsh hissing sound. It take a rocket scientist to know that was Tae, and he was pissed. Deciding to not bother staying hidden, he hurried down the steps in time to see Yoongi grab Tae’s wrist and pull him back to the couch.

“Jungkook-ah didn’t mean to hurt him! He was trying to save Jiminie-ah!” Tae snapped, rage clear across his face. Namjoon was standing by the hearth, looking like he hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep with messy hair, dark circles, and the same clothes as last night.

Jin was seated in the single chair, looking just as exhausted as his husband, but a lot more subdued. His eyes were a bit distant, hands clasped tightly in front of him and tiredness causing his broad shoulders to hunch further.

Hobi was seated next to Tae and Yoongi on the couch. Tae looked tired, withdrawn, and angry as he bared his teeth at the man standing in the center of the room. He was a larger man, clean shaven face that seemed kind and gentle, but right now pulled into a frown of worry.

Yoongi looked as rested as Hobi, tired, but certainly better than the others of the room. It was also blatantly obvious that the youngest wasn’t here, and it caused the unease to grow further.

At Jimin’s entrance, Yoongi looked up, face etched with distress and irritation, but it softened a bit upon seeing Jimin. The wrinkle between his brow was lessened and it made Jimin’s heart melt a bit more as Bang glanced at him.

“Jimin-ah, you’re awake,” Namjoon breathed, looking relieved to see the Empower up and moving. Jimin tore his eyes away from Yoongi, squashing the desire to run over and cower behind him as he faced his leader and nodded. Namjoon gave a fond smile. “Good. I am glad you are alright.”

“Jiminie-ah,” Jin suddenly spoke, the distant look in his eyes fading as he stood and waved Jimin over. The younger moved carefully, keeping his eyes low from the Burst, before he was pulled into Jin’s arms. “Thank god you are alright.”

“Jinie, I already told you that he was alright. I left him to sleep upstairs,” Yoongi commented from the couch, letting his hand loosen from around Tae’s wrist. The Bridge shrugged the rest of the hold off, darting over and jumping on Jimin’s back as soon as the younger broke apart from Jin.

Jimin stumbled from the added weight, barely managing to catch himself from the awkwardness of their height difference, but managed to let Tae get down so Tae can re-koala himself on Jimin’s front.

Tae’s scent bombarded his senses as the Bridge held him tightly, sniffling a bit as his arms tightened around Jimin’s shoulders, squeezing him a bit, but Jimin didn’t mind. He was so glad that Tae was alright. He was so worried.

“I am so sorry, Jiminie, I tried to- but it was- shit, I am so sorry! Jungkookie didn’t mean to! I swear, it’s just-” Tae whooshed out, burying his face in Jimin’s shoulder so his words were muffled and hardly understandable, but Jimin shook his head briskly, hating the words. He tightened his hold around his best friend.

“TaeTae-ah, it’s okay. I’m fine. I’m not angry at Kookie-ah, alright? I know he would never hurt me intentionally. It’s going to be okay,” Jimin promised, lightly rubbing Tae’s back as the Bridge gave quiet sniffles and snuggled closer. Raising his eyes, Jimin looked over and caught Hobi’s eye, who offered a bright, tired smile.

“You must be Park Jimin, the Empower,” Bang finally spoke up. Hobi looked over, as if he remembered his presence, and grabbed Tae’s hand to pull him away from Jimin, but the Bridge wasn’t budging.

Not minding, Jimin shook his head towards Hobi and turned his body towards Bang, and that was when Tae detached himself and sat back down, looking at the floor. Yoongi noticed and nudged his shoulder, giving a weak smile.

Bang appeared to be a man in his late forties or fifties, taking a bit of the greying hair on the sides of his hair, and really did seem like a kind man, but the swirling in his eyes says that he has seen a lot and knows a lot more.

“Yes. I am,” Jimin replied softly, unsure of what else to say. Bang studied him a second before smiling and patting Jimin’s shoulder fondly. Startled, Jimin blinked as the older man gave a warm smile.

“Welcome to the Bangtan family, Jimin. We are glad to have you here. From what I have been hearing, you have been fitting in nicely,” Bang complemented. Jimin flushed, but nodded, feeling sated that he approved. With one more smile, Jimin hurried and placed himself between Tae and Yoongi.

The Bridge leaned against Jimin, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly as he sat and remained quiet as the atmosphere hardened again to the topic at hand that was interrupted by the Empower.

Yoongi cut Jimin a side glance, catching his eye. Jimin blushed when the older reached out and took his other hand, entwining their fingers together. The familiar gruff hand in his settled his nerves further, calming him when he didn’t even realize how tense he was.

It reminded him that last night was real.

“Now, back to what I was saying. You know I think of you as my kids- that hasn’t changed, but Jungkook was being reckless last night,” Bang continued, turning to look back at Namjoon. Tae stiffened like an iron rod, biting his bottom lip to keep quiet. Jimin leaned against him, offering silent reminder that he was here.

“Bang, we were all being a little reckless. With Iron Clad making these moves to being a step closer to the Korean Government, it won’t be much longer till they get the foothold they need and they will reveal themselves and the Maces won’t sustain power,” Namjoon countered, looking disturbed by the mere idea. “You know as well as I the only reason they haven’t made a move is because of the Maces and the power the humans have. We are outnumbered, but we get people in the government, who will defy?”

“I do know that- just like I know that is the only reason the Maces allow the Factions to exist,” Bang sighed, looking more exhausted than before. He ran a hand through his hair and glared up at the ceiling. “More and more kids are losing to this. Factions are dying, humans are dying. Iron Clad is winning, and I am not sure we can stop it.”

“If they win- what happens then?” Hoseok spoke up, startling the room from the tense silence that fell over them like an icy fortress. No one knew what to say. Yoongi frowned towards Hoseok, who didn’t bother to look over as he met Bang’s eyes. “We have to be realistic here. If they win, will the Factions still exist? Will the Ring of Maces exist?”

Bang was quiet, and Namjoon watched wearily from the hearth, looking like he wasn’t sure of the answer either. Finally Bang sighed, a forlorn expression crossing his face as he looked towards Hoseok.

“If they win…. I suspect the world will see only more bloodshed. But this time… instead of Jews like in World War II, we will be the prisoners. They may have the Korean Government, but I have no clue what to expect from others. You see… History has a bad tendency to repeat itself.”

“We still have a chance. We are still Bangtan and we are still breathing,” Jin added, looking up and glancing at each of the members. “Okay, last night didn’t go as planned. Fine. We learn from our mistakes. We know now. So, Bang, what are our orders for now?”

“Remain vigilant. If word comes, go and follow orders. For now, train. Spend time together. Stress too much and you will break under pressure. I’ll be sending word,” Bang said, offering a little smile. “And for those who can… consider seeing your family.”

Namjoon nodded slowly as Bang stood, offering a hug towards the Knowledge Seeker and Namjoon didn’t decline. Tae bit his lip absently, looking like a lost child as he leaned harder against Jimin. The Empower didn’t mind.

When Bang broke apart, he looked at the others and gave small smiles. “I want you all to know that I am very proud of you. You all have come so far and I am honored to have been working with you.”

“Why do you keep talking like we are all dying. Jeez you have become morbid lately. I thought that was my job,” Yoongi spoke up, eyeing Bang wearily. The older man chuckled and patted Yoongi’s shoulder, catching Jimin’s entwined hands with his and bit back a smile.

“We aren’t dying. I just thought you would like to know. Stay safe, yeah? Take care of one another,” Bang replied before heading for the door without another word. Yoongi watched him go, a look across his face that Jimin couldn’t read, before the room remained in quiet, listening as his car startled to life and he drove away.

“I guess the documents we found were a bust?” Hoseok asked.

“Nothing truly useful. Iron Clad is gearing down, it seems,” Namjoon acknowledged, face grim. Sighing again, he turned his head to look over at Jimin and Yoongi. “How are you feeling, Jimin-ah?”

“Fine. Where is Jungkookie?” Worry for the younger and the obvious gap that has been here since he entered was starting to worry him further. This wasn’t like the younger. He was always present, ready to listen despite everything else. It didn’t help that Tae whimpered next to him, looking away from Jimin. “Taehyung, where is he? Is he alright?”

“He’s fine. He’s a little upset about what happened last night. He locked himself up in his room and won’t come out and refuses to speak to anyone- including Tae,” Jin confessed, the solemn look that hasbeen on his face since he entered only growing.

“And how in the hell is that alright?” Jimin snapped back in disbelief. His hands clenched around the two who held them, but yoongi didn’t even flinch. He tightened his grip and ran his thumb over the skin of the back of his hand. “This wasn’t Jungkook’s fault, hyung! I was stupid! I didn’t follow Joonie hyungs orders and so I got hurt. That’s on me, not him.”

Hoseok looked at the ceiling. “The guilt is still there, Jiminie. You can’t erase it just like that. Honestly, I have no clue why he refused to even go near you when we got back. He wouldn’t say word- just went up to his room and shut himself in.”

Yoongi shifted, looking a bit uncomfortable as he looked back towards their joined hands, playing absently with Jimin’s fingers. Sighing, Jimin stood, running a hand through his hair to try and calm himself.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Yoongi frowned but didn’t try to stop him as Jimin smiled lightly at him and pulled his hand away. Jin looked between the two, a knowing smile on his face as he stood and promised breakfast while Namjoon shifted and headed back for the stairs.

Hurrying down the hall, Jimin stopped in front of Jungkook’s door. He stood there a moment, wondering what exactly he was supposed to say, but then just decided to say ‘fuck it’ and do something.

Raising his hand, he gave the door a few rapid knocks. “Jungkookie? It’s me. Jimin. Can I come in?” Of course, there was no answer. He didn’t hear a rustle of the sheets or breathing. It was like Jungkook wasn’t in there. For moment, he felt helpless again. Like how he felt standing outside Tae’s door so long ago.

He remembered back at the forest a lifetime ago, where he first had to use his powers on others and he remembered the bittersweet smile on Jungkook’s face when he said that he didn’t want to hurt people. How it must feel to only have the power to hurt.

“Kook, I know you’re in there. I know you’re listening to me. Remember what I said? That everything has a reason to exist? You have a reason, your power has a reason,” Jimin called out, voice a bit strained as tears burned behind his eyes. “Let me in, please.”

Still nothing, except the soft sounds of muffled cries. It broke something inside Jimin, hearing the small boy cry. He can’t ever recall a time that Jungkook was crying except with Tae, but this was different. He wasn’t crying for Tae.

“You’re really worrying everyone, Kook. Tae needs you. Jin looks like a wreck- his youngest and troublemaker isn’t there to mock him,” Jimin whispered, leaning his forehead against the door, listening to the steady, muffled cries that came from the other side. “Namjoon hyung hasn’t slept, and Yoongi hyung… well, it’s Yoongi hyung. So he always looks blank. Hobi hyung is sad too.”

Jimin barely had time to move his head when the door opened. A shadow moved as it went back to the end of the room, huddling back into a corner with his legs pulled up and head hidden behind his arms.

Stepping inside the dark room, he wondered why it was everyone's instinct to hide themselves in their room when they were upset, but then he realized this was all they had. This was the only place they could really hide.

Closing the door behind him, Jimin strided over to where Jungkook was huddled and settled himself next to him, sitting with his legs up and elbows resting neatly across his knees. Jungkook didn’t even glance up, just huddled further into himself.

“Hey, Jungkookie,” Jimin greeted quietly, craning his head to glance at the younger. The Song Weaver said nothing. He wasn’t surprised, but was a little sad. “Thank you for saving me yesterday. You saved my life, you know? That Bone Collector was going to…” Jimin fell silent, flinching at the memory.

“I nearly killed you,” Jungkook muttered, barely audible from where he was still buried within his knees. Jimin frowned, turning a little sad at the grief that was catching in Jungkook’s throat, laced with emotion and sadness.  “How can you thank me when you almost died because of me?”

“That isn’t your fault, Jungkook. You’re power is just…” Jimin sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “Shit happens in life, alright? What happened last night was my fault. I should have followed orders, but instead I wanted to be useful and I went alone. You still saved me. I am still sitting here, alive and well.”

Jungkook reared his head, anger stark across his face as he narrowed his eyes on the Empower, disgust and disbelief tangling with his scowl as he gestured harshly towards him. “Your fault? Bullshit! Don’t you fucking get it? I am a monster! I sing and people tear their own hearts out. How in the fuck is that your fault?” Jungkook hissed. “The only reason you are alive is because Taehyung snapped me back. Otherwise, I might have let you die. I might have kept singing until your wrists bled out and you died for my voice. How is that not a monster?”

Jimin fell quiet, unsure of how to answer. Jungkook looked utterly enraged and defeated, shoulders small and face empty. He looked so lost, like he was hoping that Jimin would have an answer, a way of not being what he felt like he was.

“Jungkook… you aren’t a monster. Having this power doesn’t make you a monster. It makes you different, yes, and you spent so fucking long trying to tell me I wasn’t a monster, that I wasn’t a freak. You aren’t a monster. You are Jeon Jungkook, a sixteen year old brat who happens to be a little different,” Jimin finally breathed, offering a sad smile. “A monster is something like… a wolf to a rabbit, or a human who kills children, or a father who treats his son like a disgrace. That’s a monster.”

“What about a twelve year old boy who killed his mother?”

The room felt tense as the words hovered like stale milk over the room, stealing the even breathing. A chill raised in the air at the hushed words, firm and calculating, and Jimin felt Jungkook’s eyes, watching to see.

“I would ask the boy how,” Jimin finally replied, keeping his voice even. The raven haired male gave a bittersweet smile, tears gathering in his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know… You see, my father was a Spark. A Banshee Spark. My mother was a human, who knew of my father's abilities. When I turned twelve, no power seemed to surface. Nothing moved, I wasn’t a Silver Tongue. They thought I was human like mom,” Jungkook started, biting back another sob. “I wasn’t human. I didn’t know it, but when I sang to himself when playing out in the fields, animals would die around me. Killed themselves really. I didn’t know. Not until I killed the neighbors cat. Scared, I sang louder, trying to see if it was me, but I didn’t know my mom was behind me.”

“Jungkook…” Jimin breathed, agony clutching his heart at the pain in the younger’s words. Jungkook was crying again, tears running down his face as he rocked back and forth, reliving whatever memory he was seeing, seeing his mother.

“She clawed her own heart out. She died right in front of me. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t… I didn’t know,” he sobbed, the cries turning dry and desperate, voice cracking as his shoulders shook. “My dad came outside and saw what I had done. Saw me sobbing over my mom’s bloody carcass. My older brother too. My brother… he hated me. He called me a monster and a murderer. Dad  was angry. He called me a murderer and… I ran. Bang found me on the outskirts of Seoul, wandering around and living like a street rat when I was thirteen. He found out I was a Song Weaver and sent me to Bangtan. The rest… you know.”

When silence fell back over the room, neither was in a hurry to break it. Respect for the younger grew in his chest. A mere child had lost his mother remained living, kept going even when he had nothing.

Reaching over, he rested his hand on top of Jungkook’s head, ruffling the dark hair there and letting the younger cry, letting him break free all the emotions he had been holding in his chest. There was no words for this, and Jimin knew that.

Finally, the tears slowed, and his breathing evened out as stared absently at the floor, eyes devoid of any emotion. He didn’t move an inch, a statue with an iron rod running his back in every sense of the word.

“That doesn’t make you a monster.”

“Then what does it make me?” He mumbled, voice hoarse from his tears and crackled with renewed fever. Jimin couldn’t imagine the headache the boy must have.

“You.” Jungkook blinked at the answer, raising his eyes to look at the older who shrugged. “People are not created without experiences. You are not the same Jungkook as you were when you were five. You suffered, and grew from the pain, and you grew from happiness and fondness. Leaders are not born, they are created by circumstance, just like people in general. Your life created you, and it hasn’t beaten you down yet. My advice? Don’t let it.”

“Why not? I’m tired of always feeling like this,” Jungkook sighed, laying his head back down. “Why should i keep fucking fighting when all I get in return is this shit.”

“Because you’re letting the world win. You’re letting this shit beat you. Do you really want that? To let the darkness of this place trample over you and take away what you care about?” Jimin asked, brow furrowing. Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“You should take your own advice then,” he snapped. Jimin flinched, but steeled himself.

“I’m trying. Otherwise I wouldn't be here right now, would I? As you mentioned earlier, I almost died the other night, but here I am. I’m still here. I’m trying to be braver, to get better, and I have people now to help me,” he responded simply. Jungkook kept quiet, studying him a moment to the point Jimin felt slightly uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Jimin.” Genuine gratitude shines through Jungkook’s eyes as he gazed evenly into Jimin’s eyes, a little smile back on his face as he bowed his head in respect. Jimin smiled, nudging the raven hair’s shoulder playfully.

“It’s still hyung to you.”

“Um…. but I’m taller? And I don’t have squishy cheeks,” Jungkook countered, the wicked grin slowly returning to his face as he smirked down at Jimin who whined instantly, hitting his shoulder in protest.

“I am not short! You guys are just fucking giants!” Jimin cried in distaste. Jungkook snorted and patted his head sweetly, earning another pout from Jimin.

“And shorter and you would probably fade out of existence,” he snickered, barely moving out of the way to resist Jimin’s slap as he rolled away and beamed up at his older with his mirth eyes finally back.

“I should turn you into bacon,” Jimin muttered begrudgingly under his breathe. Jungkook shrugged like it didn’t bother him as Jimin got to his feet, brushing his pants off before looking back at Jungkook, whose smile faded as he looked towards his closed door. “You should go. Tae needs you.”

Jungkook’s face washed with pain. “Tae… he probably hates me… I almost killed his best friend. He… you should have seen his face. Holding you, begging me to stop.” He shuddered and hugged his arms around his waist. “I’m afraid he will hate me forever.”

“He doesn’t hate you. God, both are of you are helpless,” Jimin moaned and gently shoved Jungkook towards the door. “Get your ass down there and be with your man. I am no babysitting you anymore, you brat.”

“Now you sound like Yoongi hyung.” Before Jimin could hit him again, the younger was opening the door and hurrying down the stairs. Jimin smiled to himself, affection filling his chest as he hurried after him.

Jungkook rushed down the stairs, eyes wide as he looked around for the one person who mattered right now and saw the beautiful male sitting on the couch, shoulders hunched and lip red and raw from the constant biting.

“Tae,” Jungkook called, his heart aching and his skin beginning to feel his warmth, to feel the man he loved against him. He nearly collapsed right there to feel his hug, the comfort him.

Tae looked up, brown eyes huge before filling with tears. Leaping up from the couch, the male launched himself into Jungkook’s arms, cradling each other as he nuzzled his boyfriend, kissing him over and over again, soaking into the kisses.

“Tae, I’m so sorry, I was-”

“Shut up and kiss me,” Tae interrupted, leaning back in to catch his lips. Jungkook smiled and obeyed, letting Tae steal his breath away as their lips moved in sync. His heart fluttered. He clutched Tae closer.

“Oh my god, my eyes!” Hoseok screamed, appearing into the living room and instantly covering his eyes. Jimin chuckled from the bottom of the staircase. Tae broke apart from Jungkook, a light blush dusting his cheeks while Jungkook only gave a cheeky smile towards Hoseok. “I walk in and I become blind by gayness. Jin! Why in the hell would you put me with the disgusting couple?”

“To make sure they don’t fuck in the aisles, of course,” Yoongi said, appearing behind Hobi with a playful smirk across his lips. Hobi scowled, while Tae turned a brighter red. Jungkook didn’t seemed bothered as he cast a wicked look at the pale hyung.

“Then who is gonna watch you and Jimin?” Jungkook asked sweetly, batting his eyes. Hobi groaned louder, covering his ears with his hands. Jimin squeaked, matching Tae with red cheeks.

“I am surrounded by gay perverts,” Hobi complained.

“Hobi hyung… you are gay too,” Tae spoke up, deadpanning. The Empath shrugged like the news didn’t bug him. Rolling his eyes, Jimin slipped into the living room, standing next to Tae and Jungkook. Tae met his gaze and gave a grateful smile Jimin waved it off.

“But… what exactly are we paired up to do?” Jungkook asked, frowning as he looked between Tae and Hobi. Hobi clucked his tongue, remembering that Jungkook and Jimin weren’t here for the conversion.

“Oh right. Namjoon and Jin wanted a day to themselves- ew but whatever- and have paired us up to go enjoy a day doing whatever. So… I was paired with you and TaeTae-ah, considering we tend to have the same interests, and Yoongi and Jimin are paired up as well,” Hobi explained. Yoongi looked over and met Jimin’s eyes, a little smile on his face. Jimin’s stomach clenched with nerves and anticipation.

“That sounds kinda nice, actually,” Jungkook commented, before glancing over at Tae. “Did you want to go see your family, TaeTae?” Tae hesitated, looking a bit unsure as he shifted his weight uneasily. Hobi looked at him, smiling. “Come on, Tae. You need to see them. We will be with you.”

“Okay… and yours too, Jungkook.” Tae looked adamant, while Jungkook’s face soured instantly. He stiffened and shook his head, looking away from Tae, who grabbed his face and gently brought him back. “It’s been years, Kookie. You need closure and as you said, you won’t be alone. We will be with you.”

“I’ll… try,” Jungkook reluctantly agreed, looking uneasy at the mere idea. Tae looked over at Hobi, who promised that was fine with him. He would like to help and see Tae’s family as well. “Alright… then we should go dress.”

The three of them filed out, leaving Yoongi and Jimin.

Chapter Text

Jimin stared eagerly out the window the car, watching the trees go past and the leaves flutter towards the ground. He was wrapped up warmly in his favorite hoodie- a black hoodie with no writing on it and had ‘Dance Major’ in bold letters. It was a bit big, just the way he liked it, and a gift from Baekhee.

Keeping his hands hidden within the long sleeves to escape the nip of the cold autumn air that crisped at his senses, he let the excitement of what to come keep his mind occupied as Yoongi drove easily into the town limits of Busan.

Hobi and the others were going by train up to Daegu where Tae comes from before coming back down to Busan later tonight for Jungkook’s parents, so Yoongi and Jimin got the car.

They hadn’t discussed what they were going to do. There wasn’t many words exchanged as they dressed for the cold weather and time spent together and that was all. It was fine with Jimin. He was just ready for a easy day today. For some fun and maybe, just maybe, consider this their first ‘date’.

He wasn’t going to say it out loud though. He promised Yoongi time, and time he would give. But that didn’t stop his imagination. He wasn’t sure what today would bring, but this was their day.

Turning into the two limit, Yoongi drove towards the town as Jimin just admired the place he use to call home. It amazed him how things changed. Busan was once his everything, but now it was merely a stranger in every aspect.

Home was now with six other boys. A place where he belonged. And he was perfectly alright with that. Busan will always have a special hold in his heart, a memory he will cherish, but it was no longer a part of who he was.

“Did you want to go visit home, Jimin-ah?” Yoongi asked, breaking the quiet. Glancing back around, the pit of ice reformed in his stomach when he remembered he hadn’t told yoongi what had happened to him last week.

Flinching, he dropped his eyes to his lap, fiddling absently with the fabric of his hoodie. “No. I can’t go home. I don’t have a home here anymore,” he whispered, ignoring the sting in his eyes. Yoongi’s hands tightened around the wheel, casting worried glanced towards the younger. “My father disowned me. I… I can’t go back unless I want to be arrested for trespassing. It’s why I said I’m not a Park anymore.”

Yoongi inhaled a sharp breath, pain for the Empower filled his chest. It was a foreign feeling, but almost everything that has to do with Jimin was foreign. He may not have much of a family, but he knows how close he was to his brother.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, wishing he knew something better to say other than that. Looking up, Jimin offered a weak smile as he nodded and waved it away. “Did you want to do anything today? Other then that?”

Jimin bit his lip, furrowing his brow as he thought of some things that Yoongi and him would enjoy and all he could come up with was a walk on the beach, exploring the town, and maybe seeing if they can go to the carnival close to the docks.

They hold the carnival every year and Jimin would always go with Baekhee and Jihyun- though Ji-ah always went off with his friends when he had the chance so Baek and him would just go around doing whatever rides.

It was a tradition he almost forgot about with not speaking to his brother- no one to bug him and remind him that it was almost time. The carnival wasn’t big, and the only major ride was the ferris wheel and held american haunted houses and a few american horror movies out in the field but those don’t start till night.

It was still september, but Halloween was always a Busan favorite, but he was sure it was definitely different than americans celebrated, but he never minded.

“I have a couple ideas, but did you have something in mind, hyung? I am open to options!” Jimin said, turning to look at Yoongi as he drove towards a parking lot to park the car in the center of the town. It was the more city part, a part that Jimin rarely ventured except when he could.

This part was filled with temples that he took Jihyun to see a few years ago. It also held a huge open air market, but Jimin has never been to Gukjie Market. He had only heard about it. Baekehee loved to go for the fresh food for her culinary arts. It also held the Trick Eye museum, a place he has always wanted to take Jihyun to- being the math and science nerd his brother was.

Busan was split up in three parts- the beach area that Jimin comes from and the most common known area of Busan and the city that holds temples, museums, and other city life, and the beautiful mountain part. Despite being born in Busan, he has hardly explored.

“Well, I wanted to check out Busan Tower, and the Gukjie Market. Maybe visit a temple or two if you know of a good one? I heard they have a Aquarium here as well,” Yoongi mused, pulling into a parking spot and turning off the car. Jimin nodded his head briskly.

“Yes, they do have an aquarium. Sea Life Aquarium. My mom use to love that place. She me and Jihyun all the time,” Jimin said with a grin, remembering the time when he was ten and would make faces with the fish. Jihyun and him even had a game where they would find fish of a certain color and whoever had the most color, won. “And I would love to see the Gukjie Market. Baekie tells me it’s amazing.”

Yoongi smiled, showing a bit of his gums as he nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Where to first? The Tower, the market, temple, or the aquarium?” He asked, looking a bit excited. It had to be the first Yoongi showed true excitement about something. Jimin couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

“Well, how about the tower first? It shouldn't be far from one of the temples I have been to. Then we can go to the Aquarium and have lunch at the Market.” Yoongi nodded his agreement to Jimin’s words, grabbing his wallet and keys before shoving it in his pocket. Giggling, they climbed out of the car and stepped into the chill.

“Do you know your way around the subway?” Yoongi asked, coming around the car to meet Jimin’s gaze. The younger nodded, shoving his hands which were now like ice, into his pockets. He chuckled and nodded. Yoongi let out a breath of relief. “Thank god. I haven’t taken one since like, years? I don’t really know anything about Busan. I’m from Daegu.”

Jimin laughed lightly, nodding his head as he pulled out his wallet and held up what looked like a subway card. “Don’t worry, D-boy. I got us covered. You can take the place of Jihyun on my card and we can travel anywhere today.” Yoongi smiled, pleased.

Falling in step with one another, they stepped out of the parking garage and stepped onto the sidewalk. It was a chilly morning, and people were wandering around, some cars driving past, but it was pleasant. Even if Jimin was a little cold, it was enjoyable compared to the heat of August.

Yoongi shuffled a bit more into his jacket, wrapping his scarf further around his neck as he glanced around. Jimin smiled, biting the inside of his cheek at how soft the usually intimidating male seemed.

“Okay, where to? How do we get to Busan Tower?” Yoongi asked, glancing left and right with narrowed eyes. Jimin pointed left.

“We have to head towards Yongdusan Park- that’s where the tower is located. About a fifteen minute walk from here,” Jimin explained. Yoongi nodded, allowing Jimin to take his place beside him and lead them through the city.

The walk was quiet, for the most part, but Jimin had a bad habit of humming when he walked since Jihyun would ramble a lot so he always entertained himself by humming. Yoongi didn’t seem to mind, glancing at him every now and then, and Jimin would love to pretend that Yoongi was getting just a little bit closer, but there was still a gap between them.

Time. He needs time. You promised time. You need time to Jimin. Don’t give your heart away so fast, not this time, his mind reminded him, keeping him focused as they approached the gates to the park.

Yoongi’s eyes widened a bit at the sight of a small fountain where two large tan rocks stood, Hangul engraved and spelling out Yongdusan. It was a beautiful picture, and he could easily see the tower in the distance of the still slightly green grass and the red and orange leaves with some green still mixed in.

It was a beautiful picture, there was no denying it.

“Jimin, it’s beautiful,” Yoongi breathed, stepping a bit further onto the cobblestone. Jimin giggled, and nodded, agreeing with the older. This was certainly a beautiful park. Yoongi turned to look at him. “You’ve been here before?”

“Yes. Jihyun had to come here for a project on the tower physics or something? I’m not to sure but it was extra credit, so we made a day trip to come out here. We don’t explore Busan often though,” Jimin explained, shrugging a bit. “But this place was always pretty to me.”

“I wish I was like Jungkook and could draw about now,” Yoongi muttered, looking back towards the view, watching as the sun cast through the leaves and brought a small, chilly breeze that caused the trees to dance.

Laughing at the comment, Jimin shook his head as he grabbed the sleeve of Yoongi’s jacket and tugged twice, pulling him in the direction of the walking path that would eventually lead them towards the entrance of the Busan Tower.

The park itself was simple. Made up cobblestone paths, beddings of flowers and some in the middle that were more intricate and shaped in different things while the sides of the path were made up of different types of trees that lined the sides in -perfect rows.

Now that Yoongi was set in a pace of walking, Jimin pulled his hand away and replaced it in the pocket of his jacket. The silence between them was a little awkward, or maybe that was jimin because he wasn’t sure how to act or what his bounders are. What was Yoongi okay with and what wasn’t the okay with? Was he okay with public affection? Was he a closet gay?

Yoongi, however, offered no help. He looked a bit enthralled by the views around him, pulling out his phone every now and then to snap a picture before putting it back.

Jimin was almost positive it was him that was putting the awkwardness between them and so he tried to relax, to expel the tension he was holding within himself and just have fun. This was their day, one day, and he was going to have fun with it.

Until a question that had been nagging his mind surfaced, causing him to be Jimin, as usual, and open mouth-insert foot.

“Did you want to go back and visit your family, hyung?” Oh yeah. Jimin definitely wanted to die. In fact, he instantly squeaked and ignored the desire to go into a crouch and disappear. Perfect. He had to say something.

“I have no family,” Yoongi mumbled softly, but there wasn’t a hint of sadness in his words, or anger at the prodding question. It was merely a statement.  It made Jimin’s heart clench as he stared in surprise at the older. “Bangtan is my family at this point. You know about my mom, and my dad… I don’t really care, I guess.”

“Yoongi, I’m so-”

“Jimin, you don’t have to apologize,” he interjected, pausing in his walking to glance down at Jimin with a half smile and a aloof shrug of his shoulders. “Remember? I am trying here.”

Jimin nodded before they set back off, a bit of the awkwardness from before leaving as they turned the corner and the small temple appeared in their vision. It was a traditional temple, red and held a large copper bell in the middle. It was a lovely, very small, temple, but one Jimin appreciated.

“Bell Pavilion of the Yongdusan park,” Jimin prattled off, gesturing towards it with a fond smile. Yoongi looked at it with awe, full showing casing his expressions that Jimin saved for later in his mind, enjoying all of them. “And behind it is the Busan Tower.”

Yoongi stepped forward, peering at the temple as he gave his head a little bow. Jimin watched, feeling a bit silly, but was happy that Yoongi did seem to be enjoying himself. After paying some respect, Yoongi glanced back towards the younger with a little grin.

“Wanna go up in the tower? See all of Busan?” He asked, looking a little giddy at the mere idea. Jimin, however, felt his stomach drop and his skin to crawl with unease. He wasn’t going to lie- him and heights didn’t get along.

He was never a big rollercoaster fan, opting to stay on the ground and disliked the idea of high staircases and things of that nature. But going up in Busan Tower definitely seemed like a hazard to his health.

Swallowing thickly, he plastered on a brave face and gave what he hoped was an aloof shrug. Really he just wanted to see Yoongi keep on smiling, so he was going to pretend like he won’t piss his pants.

“Um, sure, if you want,” he stated, and was quite proud of himself over the fact that he did an amazing job at keeping his voice steady when he definitely didn’t feel steady. He wasn’t sure why he could handle some heights over others, but this height was definitely not his forte.

“I want to,” Yoongi replied, already grabbing Jimin’s hand and pulling him gently towards the bottom entrance. A woman sat behind the counter, smiling sweetly towards the two boys as they approached, and Yoongi pulled out some won.

Jimin clutched onto Yoongi’s hand, trying to keep the nerves from making his hand shake but he was glad to was cold out so at least his hands had a good excuse for being like an ice block, but that didn’t stop him from licking his lips.

“Enjoy, sirs,” the woman replied, handing back the the change. Yoongi nodded, face stoic, as he pulled Jimin towards the elevator. The man greeted them, allowing them on, before checking around to make sure no other customers were around.

Jimin felt jittery, his mouth gone dry as he watched the elevator doors close. It was really dumb, how he was already afraid and the elevator wasn’t even moving yet, but he felt trapped. Shifting backwards, Jimin almost yelped when his lower back ran into the hand bar.

Yoongi glanced over, his hand tightening around JImin’s that was, by some miracle, still leached into his. Jimin gave a shaky smile, but he was sure he wasn’t fooling anybody. His heart was racing, his lips and mouth dry.

“Jimin? Are you okay?” Yoongi asked, brow furrowed in concern. The man from the elevator looked over, eyes checking over Jimin easily as the younger nodded his head quickly, attempting to wave them off. “Jimin, you’re as white as a sheet.”

“He seems to be afraid of heights, sir,” the man stated, hitting the pause button on the elevator. Jimin flushed with shame that he was so easily read by a stranger as Yoongi’s eyes dawned with realization. “I can open the doors and let you off. Tell the woman at the desk and you can-”

“No, it’s fine. I can do this,” Jimin interrupted stubbornly, clutching his free hand  around the hand bar and narrowing his eyes on the man. Yoongi looked unsure, stricken, like he didn’t know how to handle this. “Hyung, I can do this.”

“Jimin, I won’t judge you if you can’t do this, okay? You don’t have to,” Yoongi answered softly, tightening his hand around Jimin’s. Jimin was grateful for the Elevator Man, since he seemed to have a unlimited supply of patience and just waited, looking away to give them privacy. “We can get off and I can just look around from the ground.”

“No. I w-wanna do this,” Jimin replied stubbornly. He meant it. He wanted to this. Yoongi looked so happy at the idea of being up in the air and who was Jimin to deny that? He wanted this for the older. Giving a shaky squeeze back to his hand, he looked towards the man. “Take us up, please,” he murmured.

The Elevator Man, poor guy he got pegged a horrible name in Jimin’s mind, nodded and offered a quick smile of reassurance, before pressing the button. Jimin’s stomach flipped at the sudden lurching feeling while his hand tightened around the bar.

“Did you ever come up here with your brother?” Yoongi said quickly, moving a bit closer to Jimin, but the gap was still there. But Jimin knew. He knew the older was trying to distract him, keep his mind occupied. And he was grateful.

“No. Ji-ah went on his own while calling me a chicken the entire time. He refused to call me ‘hyung’ the rest of the day because for someone is older I couldn’t even go up to the tower, you know?” Jimin rambled, letting the distraction do it’s job as they went higher and higher, and his stomach lower and lower.

He was pretty sure he left his heart and stomach somewhere back on the third floor.

“Baekie was much worse though. She brought me to this, like, I don’t know? Amusement park and tried to get me to ride some of the more kiddie rides and this one was still really high and I… well it wasn’t my proudest moment,” he said sheepishly, offering an awkward laugh. “Never eat cotton candy before going up high, FYI.”

Yoongi was fighting back a laugh, failing almost since a couple of sounds still escaped. Jimin whined, covering his face with his hands to hide his embarrassment before Yoongi actually laughed out loud. Jimin whacked his arm.

“Hyung!”

“Sorry- I just-” Yoongi burst back into laughter. Face red and lips formed like a duck, the Empower pouted and crossed his arms just as the elevator lurched to a heart wrenching stop. Stomach twisting, Jimin squeaked and clutched the rail, panic returning.

Yoongi tightened his hand, waiting a moment for the elevator to come to a full stop and the doors slid open. Jimin felt frozen, unable to move for fea the elevator will suddenly open up and drop them.

“Hey, look at me, Kitten,” Yoongi said, trying to ignore the fact he let the name slip on instinct. It seemed that anytime Jimin was distressed, he responded to the name. It made Yoongi’s heart was warm, a little happy at the possessive nature of the name that he tried to not use often.

Jimin obeyed, looking up to meet his eyes. They were wide, like a terrified puppy, and searched his face. Yoongi really wasn’t good at this kind of stuff, but ever since Jimin’s first panic attack, he had been trying to do better.

“I won’t let you fall, okay?” Okay, yeah, that sounded cheesy enough for him to barf. He really wasn’t good at this. But Jimin seemed to be listening, and that was what mattered. “It’s going to be fine. Come on, you got this? Let’s proof your brother and Baekie-ssi wrong.”

Jimin gave a nervous giggle at the words, but slowly unclenched his hand around the bar and shifted closer to Yoongi.. The elder smiled as he led him slowly through the elevator, nodding his head in thanks towards Elevator Man, and stepped out onto the enclosed balcony.

The light was filling in from the glass of the circle shaped dome. It was wide and the glass framed Busan in the distance. Jimin remained by the wall, to afraid to move closer towards the enclosed glass, but Yoongi was having none of that.

“Come on, Kitten. You weren’t afraid to stand up to me and call me ‘honey bunches’ and ‘asshole spark’ but you are afraid to look out a window?” Yoongi teased, raising his brows in challenge. They were completely alone up in the tower- probably because it was still early- and it was pleasant that Yoongi let his walls down a bit.

Jimin scowled in Yoongi’s direction, not moving an inch off the wall. “What are you? A furry or something? Should I purchase kitty ears and tail while I am at it?” He huffed, shaking his head. Yoongi’s smirk only grew on his face.

“If you are offering, then fuck yes,” Yoongi chortled. Jimin flamed red as he flashed Yoongi the middle finger and remained standing intimately against the wall.

“And it isn’t just a window, you ass! It’s a death trap where if that window breaks open I plummet to my death and I like life, currently, so I wanna keep it. And you aren’t scary. You are a marshmallow,” Jimin scoffed, rolling his eyes and trying to not let his racing heart and twisty stomach decide his fate.

Yoongi’s face, however, became a blank, except for a single brow being raised as he looked at Jimin like he was a insect under a microscope. The younger, feeling a bit childish, stuck out his tongue and huffed again.

“If you want that tongue to remain intact, I suggest you keep it in your mouth.” Jimin slurped his tongue back in, face turning an unhealthy shade of red as he squeaked at the suggestion. “As for the other thing, I am not sure which to correct first.”

“The fact the ‘window’ is a death trap?” Jimin offered snarkily. Yoongi rolled his eyes and held out his hand. Jimin stared at it, glancing back up and Yoongi and back towards his gruff hand, all veiny and manly. He loved the hand.

Okay, he had a hand fetish. Sue him.

“Come on, you big baby, I’ll hold your hand the entire time. You won’t go through the death trap. I came up here to look at the sights with you, not without you,” Yoongi reminded him, flexing his hands in invitation.

Sighing, he reached out and took it, blushing at how his small hand looked in  Yoongi’s larger hand and pulled him away from the wall. Jimin squeaked as he was dragged closer towards the window, his heart racing faster.

The hold on his hand remained firm, comforting, as he was placed in front of the window. Breathing uneven, he slammed his eyes shut, afraid to see how high up he was. Yoongi frowned and changed so his hands were on Jimin’s hips, feeling a bit unsure on boundaries, but wanted to try this.

Jimin jumped a bit at the change of hand positions, but settled, unable to open his eyes. Yoongi nudged him with his shoulder. “Come on, open your eyes. See your hometown. It’s beautiful,” he whispered.

Breathing out slowly, Jimin obeyed. He peeled open his eyes and gasped. He was really, really, really high, but Yoongi was right. The sight was beautiful. He could see the bridge going across the ocean, and the city gleaming brightly under him with the beach a bit further ahead.

“It is beautiful,” he breathed out in amazement, height momentarily forgotten as he admired the city he was born in from a new level. Yoongi smiled, nodding his head as he tightened his hands on Jimin’s waist.

“And look, you are up high and doing fine. No biggie, right?” Yoongi surmised, casting Jimin a side glance. The younger, still a bit uneasy by the height but not as badly as before, shrugged and looked back towards the skyline. “You did good.”

Jimin smiled, feeling the butterflies return to his stomach. They continued to stare out at the city for a few moments before Yoongi helped Jimin step back and return to the safety of the wall as the Elevator returned.

Stepping inside, Jimin locked his hands back on the rail and Yoongi took his place next to him as they went down. Once again, Jimin wondered which floor his organs had been left on as he all but stumbled out and back into the cold air of the park.

“Alright, a temple? Do you know any temples nearby?” Yoongi asked as they strolled through the rest of the park, heading back for the entrance to continue their day touring Busan. Jimin bit his lip in thought. He has only been to three, so, he had to think.

“Well, nearby, there is Samgwangsa,” Jimin pondered, gesturing towards the right. “It’s a pretty popular temple and in the center of Busan, or close to the center. There is also Mahasa, which is about twenty minutes? It’s a buddhist temple,” he continued.

“Which one do you prefer?” Yoongi asked, tilting his head as they walked past the entrance to the park and paused by the street, that has started to fill up a bit more from their last walk around the city. The day was starting to kick off.

Jimin blinked at the question, unsure of how to answer. He hardly went to temples anymore, never truly had a reason between school, his father and brother, and his dance. He didn’t see a reason. But now that he was asked, he thought back to the three temples he had been to. The third one was too far, leading into more of hte beach district of Busan where he originally came from so opted that one out.

“Oh, well, I guess Samgwangsa? It’s a pretty temple and has these lights attached, so it’s very visual,” Jimin finally replied, turning to look at Yoongi with a shrug. Nodding, the older gestured for him to lead the way.

They headed in the direction, pace languid and comfortable as they admired the city, hands distractingly too far apart and yet so close he could brush his tiny pinkie against Yoongi’s if he tried.

Jimin disliked the distance, causing him to be antsy and unsure. They never spoke of boundaries, and he wasn’t sure what Yoongi will allow and what he wouldn’t, and right now he wanted to hold his hand but kept it by his side instead.

Coming across the entrance, which was a simple stone structured gate and the line short due to the still early morning. Walking in. Yoongi’s eyes widened as he took in the old building of the temple. It was a simple building, but showed Korean culture well. It was something Jimin always admired at least.

It appeared to be set up in three different buildings, one being a bit of a dome shaped and the others smaller square shaped. It was delicate and had buddhist statues throughout the outer columns of the building.

Yoongi stepped further onto the walkway, Jimin smiling as he trailed behind and let Yoongi drink in his fill of the temple. His dark eyes were open and expressive, it had to be the most expressive the male has ever been.

And Jimin got to witness it all.

Jimin, feeling silly, decided to pull out his phone and catch a quick picture of Yoongi’s amazed side profile, but he forgot his phone’s sound was on- not that it worked or anything since he had no number yet- and a snap sounded, drawing Yoongi’s attention.

His brow furrowed as he narrowed his eyes on Jimin’s fumbling hands to lower the phone, another blush staining his cheeks at being caught. “Did you just take a picture of me?”

“Er… no?” He blinked, feeling stupid at the obvious lie. Yoongi sucked on his teeth, looking thoughtful for a second before rolling his eyes and brightening instantly, his mouth shaping to show his gums and holding up a cute peace sign.

Jimin bursts into giggles at the aegyo, snapping a few pictures as he tried to keep from laughing harder, but each time Yoongi changed his cute pose something even cuter, Jimin lost it all over again. Marshmallow all right.

Yoongi stopped aegyo, but the soft smile remained intact as he gestured towards Jimin, reaching for his phone. The laughter was wiped away from the younger as he stared wide eyed in surprise.

“What?”

“Your turn.”

“M-my turn?” Jimin stammered, swallowing thickly. Yoongi nodded, holding up his phone to take pictures. The Empower covered his face in embarrassment. “Hyung, no, I look horrible, please don’t.”

“Jimin, I don’t think it is possible for you to look horrible. You look fucking adorable,” Yoongi countered, raising a brow. “Now you got pictures of me, I want pictures of you. Simple exchange.”

“We never made a bargain,” Jimin commented drily. Yoongi shrugged.

“Semantics.” Jimin huffed but slowly lowering his hands and smiling shyly. Smirking at his win, Yoongi took a couple of pictures before he order Jimin to change positions. Obeying, he lifted his hands and poked out his cheeks to look like a chipmunk. “Cute.”

“Shut up, take your pictures,” Jimin stated, turning so that he was looking at the temple with a large smile on his face. Still smirking in the Yoongi way, he took a few more before lowering his phone. Jimin gave him a bland look. “Happy?”

“Definitely. Where to next, Oh Great Tour Guide?” Yoongi teased. Jimin shoved his chilled hands back into his hoodie, nibbling on the bottom of his lip as he thought about it, laying out the mental map in his mind.

“Aquarium? We are making good time. By the time we go through the aquarium, it will be late afternoon and we can head to the food part of the Market and then eat and wander,” Jimin offered. Yoongi nodded, agreeing instantly. Set back off, they finish walking around the temple- begrudgingly taking pictures in front of the temple- before headed towards the subway to get to the Sea Life Aquarium.

The subway was loud, and even colder than up there. People were moving around, and Yoongi already remembered why he disliked subways. Noises echoed off the concrete and ricochet back to his ears.

Jimin easily moved through the bustle and hustle, unperturbed by the crowd, as he easily maneuvered his way towards the gates, clutching his subway card in his hand. Yoongi shoved through people, not liking the idea of being separated and grabbed onto the back of Jimin’s hoodie as he scanned his card and went through the gate, Yoongi on his heels.

Breathing out slowly as the crowds evened out, Yoongi stepped closer to Jimin who cast him a little smirk that could be labeled sinful. “Almost get run over, hyung?” He teased.

“I am a centimeter  taller than you- shove it,” Yoongi grumbled. Snickering, Jimin rolled his eyes and grabbed the sleeve of Yoongi’s jacket.

“Better hold on tight, hyung- I’m about to move fast,” JImin warned and before Yoongi could answer, the younger took off walking in a fast pace, easily dodging and side stepping people as he glanced from sign to sign, reading the rails. Yoongi stumbled, barely managing to keep up as they all but dashed onto a nearby subway and grab a pole.

“What the fuck, Jimin,” Yoongi hissed, gathering himself from the dash as he narrowed his eyes on the smaller who was using his hand to cover his laughter at seeing Yoongi so disheveled. “What was that?”

“I lovingly called it ‘the subway dash’,” Jimin said, chuckling again. “I became a master at it when I was a freshman in high school. You learn quick if you want to make it to certain places on time when you have a kid brother with you.”

Shaking his head, Yoongi sighed and gripped the metal pole tighter as the subway whooshed through the lines. He took this chance to look around, noting the different people and how filled up the car was. Jimin looked mostly bored, having seen it so many times, and just held the pole and watched for his exit.

Yoongi hadn’t ever taken a subway car- not in years- but not much has changed. The same boring intercom, giggling high schoolers, and a few tourists from different areas standing around or sitting as they waited for their stop.

“Once we get off in a few stops, it’s only a five minute walk to the aquarium,” Jimin commented absently, glancing down the train to look over the different faces. Yoongi nodded quietly, not really sure what to say, so opted for just admiring Jimin a moment.

He looked a little wind blown, ash blond hair a bit messy from his hand running through it a time too many and a dusting of pink across his cheeks from the cold. His tiny, pudgy hands were clenched around the metal pole and a smile was tugging at his full lips.

In so many ways, Yoongi was happy at the moment. He didn’t feel pressured, he was being trained or had to train him. It was a simple day, to do whatever they wanted. Was this a date? He wasn’t sure what a date entailed or what he was supposed to be doing. He was the king of one night stands and forgetting people's names three seconds after leaving them high and dry.

He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be saying, or doing, and he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, really. He was just happy going around the town and being next to Jimin. It made him feel like a person, not a Spark, and it has been a long time since he felt that.

As if feeling Yoongi’s gaze, the younger tilted his head and caught Yoongi’s eye. He flushed, looking down. “Is something wrong? Do I have something on my face?” He asked, reaching up to touch his cheek. Yoongi shook his head.

“No, just thinking.” Jimin’s head cocked to the side, once again reminding the older of a puppy as he searched his features. Yoongi could see the question burning in his eyes, so he smiled. “Just thinking about little things. I wouldn’t worry.”

“M’k, hyung,” he answered with a shrug and continued his people watching. Yoongi actually wondered how it was possible for a male to be so cute, and yet so… sexy at the same time. It was driving him crazy.

Pushing the thought away, Jimin suddenly stepped closer and tugged on Yoongi’s jacket, the scent of strawberries tickling his nose. “Enough thinking- this is our stop.” Smiling, he let Jimin once again weed-whack his way through the crowd and up the stairs, letting the much warmer air- though still chilly- wash over them as they stepped into sunlight.

Yoongi covered his eyes with his hand, feeling Jimin release his jacket as he pointed to a huge blue sign- in english no less so he was glad he knew some of it at least- that read Busan Aquarium.

“There it is, hyung,” Jimin said, glancing at him with a grin. Yoongi smiled back, dropping his hand as they hurried over and slipped past the entrance. As they approached the paying gate, Jimin reached for his wallet, but if there was one thing about dates that Yoongi did know- thank you Jin- was that he should pay. Jimin looked at him with large eyes. “What is it?”

“I’m paying. My treat,” Yoongi said, like it meant nothing, before pulling out his wallet and the won needed. Jimin blushed and looked at the ground, biting his lip to keep the smile at bay. Not that it worked.

After paying and grabbing the tickets, Yoongi looked back at Jimin and gestured with his head towards the first building. The aquarium was made in different buildings, each for something different. Jimin remembered through experience that the first building was the Shoaling ring area.

“Ready?” Yoongi asked gruffly. Nodding his head, he scurried over and took his place next to Yoongi as they wandered inside. Jimin’s eyes turned to saucers as he admired the fish swimming in little packs across the glass, an array of colors and sizes .

Kids ran around, playing around the arches and racing the fish the best they could with vigor, while Yoongi admired the fish and the boy next to him who took pictures and would make funny faces towards the fish. His heart felt warm.

He didn’t even mind the kids. Soon, they wandered from the Shoaling area to the Harbor, admiring the smaller fish that swam around while Jimin sat on a rock and struck a funny pose. Laughing, yoongi grabbed his phone and took a picture.

“That was a good one,” he commented, looking at it. Jimin blushed and climbed off, hiding his face behind his hands. Yoongi really wanted to kiss him at that moment, but refrained, unsure if the other would let him or want him to.

He did say he didn’t want labels…

“Hyung! Hyung! Stingrays! Stingrays!” Jimin suddenly shouted, darting through the mangrove forest to appear in a circle room where a raised rock aquarium was holding little stingrays swimming around. Children were squealing and giggling, reaching in to graze their fingers across the slippery backs.

Jimin rushed over, beaming from ear to ear, as Yoongi hurried over. Jimin looked up, pulling up his sleeve and giggling. He was so fucking adorable, Yoongi almost crooned again. Without waiting, Jimin reached his hand in and let his fingers graze over the animal.

His nose scrunched, another giggle leaving his mouth. “Hyung, they still feel like rubber,” he said with a laugh. Yoongi, unable to resist, pulled out his phone and snapped a few more pictures. Jimin pouted. “You should pet one too!”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. Full experience, remember?” Jimin teased, quoting him from back at the Busan tower. Yoongi’s nose scrunched, looking down at the swimming flat discs. It did not seem that appealing to him. “You made me stand by a death trap- I’m sure you can pet a little stingray.”

“I might actually hate you,” Yoongi mumbled, but obeyed. He pulled up his sleeve and slipped his hand into the water. His nose scrunched at the coolness, but soon adjusted as he let his hand skim over a few stingrays while Jimin took pictures. “I take it back, I do hate you.”

“Payback is a bitch, babe,” Jimin mocked playfully. Yoongi rolled his eyes and pulled his hand out and dried it quickly with nearby paper towels and grabbed hand sanitizer, Jimin doing the same. “That was always me and my brothers favorite to do here. My mom would laugh sometimes since we would call it the ‘stingray place’ instead of aquarium.”

“You came here with you mom?” Yoongi asked, intrigued. He loved hearing little snippets of Jimin’s life, like getting a peek into the boy’s memories and childhood. It was dumb, but he could almost imagine a eight year old Jimin bumbling around with his little brother not far behind.

“All the time. She was a biology major, so she liked being in places like this and spent a lot time in science-like places. I think that's where Ji-ah gets his science nerd-stuff,” Jimin explained, smiling at the memory. “So, yes, I was here a lot as a kid.”

“I think that’s kinda cool actually. I don’t remember anything about my mom’s interests, so hearing yours is nice,” Yoongi admitted, feeling honest. Jimin tilted his head as they headed further into the aquarium, pausing to look at fish. “I don’t really like my dad, so I wouldn’t know. What else did your mom take you to?”

Jimin flushed, cocking his head again as he pursed his lips in thought. Yoongi let him think, glancing more at some of the creatures and smiling. He actually kinda liked this place. There was an aura about it that he liked.

“Well, when I was… six?” He paused, nibbling on his lip as he counted on his fingers. Yoongi bit back another smile since the action was so domestic and cute. “Yeah, six, she took me to this dance show for contemporary dance. I fell in love with it, the way people moved their bodies and the grace… that’s why I like dancing so much,” he admitted, blushing again. “How did you get into music?”

Yoongi froze a second, unsure of how to answer. How did one answer that? He never really told anybody about his life before Iron Clad, before he escape from Iron Clad and Namjoon found him. He hardly thought about it.

Jimin’s childhood seemed a whole lot happier than Yoongi’s and he didn’t feel like bringing down the day with that story. There wasn’t much to tell. There was nothing to say.

Swallowing thickly, breathing slowly through his nose, he opened his mouth to say something, feeling ashamed. “Jimin…”

“Hyung, it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything. I am not going to pressure. I was just curious,” Jimin said quickly, touching Yoongi’s arm and giving a quick smile. Yoongi sagged in relief, nodding quickly. “I will never pressure you, Yoongi.”

“Thank you, Jimin,” Yoongi breathed. The Empower nodded, brightening up again as he gestured towards the Shark Walk. Smiling, feeling much better, he let the boy drag him into the huge circleur room where many sharks swam around them. “Damn… there are so many.”

“Hyung, look over here,” Jimin whisper-shouted, waving his hand over. Yoongi hurried over, kneeling where Jimin was so that their shoulders were pressed together and saw a shark buried in the sand. Jimin giggle. “He wants to hide.”

“Should we tell him he failed?” Yoongi asked, smirking. Jimin rolled his eyes, leaning against him to laugh lightly and shake his head. Smiling, Yoongi took this chance to wrap an arm around Jimin’s shoulders, delighting in the smallness of them and how they fit within his arms. “Come on, I think I see one of those really big mouthed sharks.”

“It’s a Whale Shark.”

“Yeah, that,” Yoongi muttered. Jimin giggled again as they stood, Yoongi’s arm not leaving as they stepped further into the Shark Walk where a huge Whale Shark swam above their heads. Jimin gasped, amazed sa he stared at the underbelly of the huge shark.

Feeling eyes on him though, nerves and unease sparked in his blood at the sudden feeling of being watched. Swallowing, he tore his eyes from the shark to peer around the room, antsy about the thought of Iron Clad nearby.

Instead, he locked eyes with one person he definitely didn’t want to see. Not now, not here of all places, and certainly not with Yoongi. Cheol. Cheol stood near one of the shark’s glass, a male hanging off his arm laughing as he pointed to different sharks.

A cold pit of anxiety tore through his stomach, stealing his breath, as the smile was wiped clean off his face. He grabbed Yoongi’s arm, tugging him back the other direction. “Yoongi, let’s go.”

“Jimin? What is it? What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked, feeling the tight grip on his bicep. He looked to where Jimin’s eyes were locked, horror and fear dancing within his brown eyes, and saw a tall, beach looking Korean male standing next to another male, hanging off him like they were more than just friends.

“N-nothing, c-can we go?” Jimin whispered, turning to hurry out of the room when Yoongi saw the man sent the one hanging off him forwards into another room before looking back towards Jimin.

“Jimin? Jimin Baby, is that you?” The man called, stopping Jimin dead in his tracks as a few swears left Jimin’s mouth and he turned to look at Yoongi desperately. Already Yoongi hated him, just for calling Jimin ‘baby’.

Who was he? What right did he have to call Jimin that? Why was Jimin looking like he wanted to run, but couldn’t. Yoongi hated him, there was something utterly douche about the man. If he makes Jimin look like that, he isn’t a good guy.

The man started headed their way, and Jimin hissed through his teeth. “Yoongi, I am really sorry about this.”

“Who is he?” Yoongi whispered back, narrowing his eyes into slits on the man with his lips curled in distaste. He was screaming rich jerk with his clothing choice and walk alone. Jimin exhaled loudly through his nose, but offered no response to his question.

The man finally stopped in front of them. His eyes raked casually down Yoongi, sizing him up like he was a piece of flesh that was insignificant and too cheap to care about, before looking back towards the angry looking Jimin.

“What the fuck did you do to your hair? Word around the street is you dropped out of high school to be an underground dancer or something, others say you became a stripper,” the man said, reaching out to touch Jimin’s hair. Lifting his lips, Yoongi reached across and shoved the man’s hands away.

“Hands off, asshole. Who the fuck are you?” Yoongi sneered, baring his teeth. Jimin blinked in surprise, eyes a bit and sheepish to go along with the shame and terror in his eyes. It only added to Yoongi’s rage.

The man, however, only arched a brow and looked him over again, this time with much more distaste, like he was testing in his mind on whether or not he would win this. “I think the real question is, who are you? Jimin’s new slut to fuck around with? Please, that’s all he is good for. Opening his legs for any man that even looks in his direction.”

Tears instantly flooded in Jimin’s eyes, matching the slight anger that burned there as he lowered his head, looking away from Yoongi like he couldn’t bare to see his face. But that was when the pieces clicked for Yoongi.

Yoongi could read Jimin’s fears- he was Reflector, he was supposed to- and Jimin has always had this fear of a figure with the name Cheol. It was a different kind of fear, lower class and more of a mental fear than physical, but still there.

Jin had mentioned a Cheol once, when he was ranting about how mistreated Jimin seemed to be and how he wanted to help. Now he had a face to the name.

A part of Yoongi wanted to slaughter the man right then and there, bringing forth his fear as he trembled and sobbed like the baby he was before he finally succumbed to the fear, but he knew Jimin and no one else in the aquarium would appreciate that.

He had a better plan.

“Oh, I see. You’re Cheol right? Man, must be unfortunate to have someone as beautiful as Jimin to leave you because your rack is about the size of your brain's- non-existence. Tell me, is your dick so small because it’s shoved so far up your ass it’s reached your brain? I guess you take being a dick to a whole new level,” Yoongi taunted, offering a sarcastic smile. He was pretty sure he heard Jimin nearly choke, but was too focused to really check.

Cheol, however, looked royally pissed off. His jaw was clenched and his eyes narrowed dangerously as he took a threatening step forward, anger swirling in his eyes but Yoongi kept his bored face. He didn’t care. This guy had nothing on him.

“What the fuck did you just say?” He snarled. Yoongi only smirked, unperturbed. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Jimin’s new boyfriend. And be careful who you call a slut- the one dicking around with more than one shouldn’t really be calling names, now should they?” Yoongi asked sweetly, tilting his head to the side as he kept that smirk in place. Cheol was trembling from outrage, Jimin looking utterly shocked by the words. “Next time you feel like talking to Jimin, I suggest you don’t. I may have the restraint here, but I can’t promise that if I see your ugly face in my presence again.”

“Are you threatening me, pipsqueak?” Cheol sneered, raising his hand to make a punch. Yoongi lunged forward, grabbing the man's shirt and drawing his face close as he stared in his eyes, letting his own flicker red as he gave Cheol a smidgen of his own fear.

“Hmm, afraid of being alone, huh? Call me pipsqueak again or call Jimin ‘baby’ one more time and you will definitely be alone.” Shoving him away. Yoongi turned and grabbed Jimin’s face, carefully capturing his lips in a hot kiss.

At first Jimin was stunned and made a noise in the back of his throat, but Yoongi wrapped his arm around his waist, bringing him ever closer so that he felt the plush hardness of his body against his and tilted the younger's head. Jimin moaned, sagging into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around Yoongi’s neck.

The kiss felt good, Yoongi wasn’t lie. He loved the way Jimin’s lips were like the rest of him- playfully and sassy, teasing him as they moved fluidly across his own while his hands tangled in his hair like he couldn’t get enough. His body felt so good, better than any one night fuck.

His kisses alone felt like he was sated. They felt special.

When Yoongi pulled apart, he studied Jimin’s face, delighting in the effect he had on him. HIs lips were swollen, glistening from the intensity, and his eyes hooded and cheeks flushed. Yoongi could only imagine what he would look like under him, screaming out his name as he came.

Yeah, not the right time for those kinds of daydreams, Min Yoongi, his mind scolded him when he felt the beginning of his pants getting tight. Jimin flushed as Yoongi looked back towards the enraged Cheol and smirked.

“You aren’t wanted here. Piss off, dickwad.” Huffing, Cheol turned on his heel and headed for whatever direction his partner went in. The dup didn’t move an inch till he was completely gone. As soon as he was, Jimin wiggled away and stared at the ground, playing with his fingers.

“Hyung, I am so-”

“Don’t apologize. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” Yoongi interjected, shaking his head as grabbed Jimin’s hand and pulled him closer. Jimin blinked in surprise as Yoongi placed a chaste kiss to his lips. “That was to remind you he doesn’t matter.”

“Hyung… what you said…?”

“I… I still need time, but I wasn’t about to let him talk to you like that,” he explained, looking down in shame. Jimin smiled and nodded, touching his cheek. Yoongi looked back up and saw Jimin gesturing towards the Dinosaur Dive.

“I think we have some dino’s to uncover,” Jimin said, changing the subject like nothing happened. Yoongi was so grateful in this moment, he kiss him all over again, but instead he settled for something more appropriate. He grabbed Jimin’s hand and entwined their fingers.

Jimin froze a second, breathing catching, and Yoongi wondered if he was going to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, his eye smile only grew as they explored the dino cave. He felt good holding Jimin’s hand, like t was natural, even though he never imagined doing this to anybody.

He was quickly learning Jimin wasn’t ‘anybody’.

 

*******

 

“Jimin, I don’t know about that,” Yoongi said, scrunching his nose at the plate of odd colored food that did not look edible to Yoongi. JImin rolled his eyes, grabbing his chopsticks and holding up pieces of of it towards Yoongi. “It doesn’t look safe.”

“Hyung, I wouldn’t feed it to you unless it was good. This is the Gukjie Market, the point of it is to try different things,” Jimin sighed, exasperated. Eyeing it wearily, Yoongi glanced around the huge market, in hopes of help.

The Gukjie Market was huge, so Yoongi could see how it was labeled as one of Korea’s largest markets. Streets were filled with vendors and stalls, the smells were disorienting and yet inviting. People were weaving their way through, many carrying baskets of food or other traditional merchandise.

The streets were all labeled, and the stalls held so many things, and Yoongi really liked it. It was busy and loud, but many didn’t seem to run into Yoongi or cause a hustle, so he didn’t mind too much. His feet were hurting from all the walking, but he his stomach was enjoying all kinds of traditional foods and desserts he has never really tried.

Because it was a International Market, and oh it was, they had Japanese food, Chinese food, Korean, and even some english. It was actually impressive. At first he was unsure when they got close, but now that he was in and had been wandering around, he was content.

“Just try it- it’s something traditionally Chinese, and it’s pretty good,” Jimin promised, holding up his chopsticks again as he he tightened his hand around his plastic plate, filled with the odd looking food.

Sighing, and giving in, Yoongi reached out and grabbed Jimin’s wrist, steadying his hand as he opened his mouth and pulled it off the chopsticks. Jimin flushed a bit as he lowered his hand, letting Yoongi chew.

“Well? You don’t seem to be dead yet,” he teased, watching him with a smile. Yoongi rolled his eyes, swallowing quickly. He was actually surprised. It was pretty good tasting. Seeing the smile, the smirk grew on his face. “See? I told you. It’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, now let me have another bite,” Yoongi replied, reaching for the plate. Jimin chuckled, handed him the plate without qualms as they stepped off the side street and headed into a different district, this one holding traditional Korean clothes.

Many Hanbok dresses lined the stalls in different arrays of colors on one side while the other side held a large array of male Hanbok. Another smile crossed his face as he admired the pretty colors and fabrics, pausing at one of the stalls to gently touch a pale blue Baji, which was the loose-fitted pants of a Hanbok.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked, pausing next to him, peering down at the beautiful cloth. He blinked in surprise before his brow furrowed, looking thoughtful. “Wait, I’ve heard of this. It’s a Hanbok, right? Korean clothing?”

Jimin inhaled sharply as he turned his head to stare in surprise at the profile of Yoongi, who didn’t seem to notice as he reached out and touched a darker blue Baji, looking intrigued by the creases in his eyes and the wonder that danced.

He touched his shoulder. “Hyung, you don’t have a Hanbok?”

Yoongi hesitated before shaking his head slowly. “I have never really seen one either. I heard of them, but not really done anything with them. Why? Is something wrong?” HIs hand paused over the fabric, looking back at the Empower with unsurety, like he had spoken something wrong, but Jimin was just sd for the elder.

A Hanbok itself was hardly worn anymore except for special times in one's life, so like big moments. During festivals and traditions, like Sebae, the New Year Bow, you wore a Hanbok. It was a tradition but wasn’t required. A Hanbok was just special.

It held moments that were supposed to be super important to Koreans.

Yoongi looked a bit nervous at Jimin’s silence, pulling away from the Hanbok with a frown as he glanced around anxiously. Shaking it off, the younger grabbed his hand and offered a quick smile.  

“Hyung, it’s okay. I was just surprised. Maybe one day when things get a little less hectic, we can come back and we can get you a Hanbok for yourself?” He offered. Yoongi looked taken off guard but smiled, nodding his head in agreement as he squeezed Jimin’s hand. “Come on, the Carnival will be in full swing soon. And I don’t think I can eat another bite of anything!”

They slipped through the crowd, hand in hand this time and have been since they the aquarium and Yoongi didn’t mind. He loved the softness of the pudgy, warm hand in his that kept his tiny fingers locked in his as they walked, a wistful smile on his face.

Slowly, the crowd began to disperse as they made their way out of the market and back onto the bustling streets. The air had warmed up considerably, only a slight chill in the air left as they headed for the beach, getting closer to Jimin’s district but the younger didn’t seem to mind, only kept moving.

The day was replaying in his mind over and over again, causing his heart to feel heavy, but it wasn’t a bad heavy. It was different from usual, holding something warmer and firmer when he looked at Jimin.

Jimin just had this way about him, he really did, and Yoongi felt like he was swimming in an ocean he didn’t know or understand. But Jimin was there, being a lifeguard and holding his hand and how to swim with the utmost patience, and he didn’t understand.

He wanted Jimin, but he didn’t want what would come from it. WHy would Jimin stay? What could he offer him? What did he need in a relationship? What would happen to him if things didn’t work out? Could they walk side by side like this? Smiling?

He felt like such a paradox. He wants to be happy, but thinks of things that crumble at his heart. He’s lazy, yet wants to accomplish so many things. He doesn’t like himself, but loves who he was. He says he doesn’t care, but really he cared a lot. He craved attention, but rejects when he received it. A walking contradiction.

“Yoongi? What is it?” The blond asked, noticing the thickening silence that was growing between them. It had always been comfortable between them, but now there was something unspoken between them. He already disliked it.

“Huh? Nothing. Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts.” It wasn’t a lie. He was, and he felt bad, because he thought this day was going pretty good. He still wasn’t sure what to call it. It wasn’t a date? But was it?

Jimin paused, tugging gently at Yoongi’s hand and causing the older to stop and look back at him with his usual blank expression that Jimin hated after seeing different expressions across his face all day.

“Whatever you are thinking about, don’t think, okay? I’m kind of a master of knowing that thoughts ruin a lot of things, so just don’t think. We are going to a carnival. We are having fun. No Sparks, no bad things happening. Just you and me, and a hell of a lot of fried food,” Jimin said firmly, grinning cutely at the idea.

Unable to stop himself, Yoongi leaned down and kissed Jimin’s lips gently before pulling away and looking towards the ocean. The sun was lowering in the sky, quickly signalling the day was ending fast. But the water reflected the light and caused a rippling effect.

“Come on. Jin won’t want us out too late,” Yoongi said. JImin laughed and agreed as they picked up their paces towards the docks where the Carnival was coming into focus. It wasn’t big, mostly stalls set up for games like testing your strength and darts and throwing balls at cups.

The Ferris Wheel was small to, not going nearly as high as many other places but it wasn’t like Jimin cared. He really wasn’t planning on going up on it, smaller or not. He already hit his height limit for the day, so only ground activities.

Already the smell of popcorn, corn dogs- though he was quite sure it was different from americans corn dogs- was tangling in their senses and urging them on. Stepping up to the ticket booth, Yoongi- much to the whining Jimin’s dismay- paid again before they slipped inside and looked around.

Kids were running around, carrying stuffed animals and headed for the bouncy houses and a couple haunted houses that lined the areas while teenagers wandered around with food and spoke in fast excited tones as they headed for the more adult haunted houses and  games.

Yoongi smiled, looking at some churros from one of the smaller vendors. Grinning to himself. Jimin hurried over before the older could protest and buy two cinnamon churros, handing it towards Yoongi.

“Come on. My favorite game is down that way,” Jimin said with a laugh. Yoongi happily chewed on his churro, letting imin lead him through the crowd as he stared at the games absently, watching as Jimin just hummed and moved about easily.

When Yoongi caught sight of a game a little ways ahead, he blinked. It was a basketball throwing game to what looked like this hoops at different levels and some even moved a little bit. Finishing off his churro, he tugged at jimin’s arm, pausing the smaller in his tracks.

“Can we do that one?” yoongi asked, pointing to the right. Jimin followed his gaze, grinning as he nodded. Beaming, they hurried over to the vendor, who smiled warmly at the two. “Jimin, do you want to shoot with me?”

“I don’t really have any arm strength, but sure, i would love to,” Jimin replied, giggling. “You are probably going to beat me.”

“Maybe.” Yoongi turned to the vendor, feeling a little giddy. He hasn’t touched a basketball in a long time. He didn’t think he really would. He probably sucks now. “Two to play, please.”
“Alright, you each will have have ten balls. The higher basket you score, the higher your score. Whoever has the most points at the end wins a prize,” the vender explains, taking the won and counting it out before placing ten full balls in front of each of them.

Yoongi grabbed his first ball and so did Jimin, Yoongi lining up his shot as the man called the game to a start. Tossing the ball he missed the first hoop when the ball swung to high in the arch. Wincing, he grabbed the next one and made hs target a bit easier and landed the hoop.

Relieved, he fell back into a easy rhythm as he switched between hoops and landed as many as he could. Soon, the game was up. Jimin had a tiny pout on his face, brown eyes turning towards him as they glimmered with mirth.

“Looks like you won, sir. What kind of prize do you want?” The vender asked, looking back at Yoongi who turned his eyes towards the prize board. Many stuffed animals hung from the rafters, some panda bears and unicorns, but Yoongi like the koala bear.

It reminded him of Jimin.

“I’ll take the Koala Bear, please,” Yoongi answered, pointing upwards. Nodding, he reached up and grabbed it, handing it easily towards yoongi who held it in his hands, admiring the soft fur and cute large eyes of the stuffed animal.

“It’s cute, hyung. Totally matches your highly intimidating personality,” he teased, smiling at him gently. Yoongi rolled his eyes as he laughed and reached over to pet the stuffed animal. “Whoa, it’s actually pretty soft.”

“I wasn’t expecting it either,” Yoongi admitted. Jimin laughed, taking his free hand as they continued to walk further through the carnival.  The air was getting cool again, sending a few goosebumps to race across his arms from the briny sea breeze.

“Why did you choose the basketball game? You had nice throws. Did you use to play?” Jimin asked, glancing around towards the docks where the sun was getting closer and closer to the water. Yoongi looked over, shaking his head quickly.

“Not professionally or anything. I maybe played a game or two depending who was around at the time. I just went this old basketball court a lot when i needed to get away and shot some hoops. I got pretty at hoops from that, I guess,” Yoongi explained, trying to leave out as much as he could. “It was kinda my… free time? A time to get away. I haven’t touched a basketball in a while.”

Jimin hummed in acknowledgement, looking thoughtful as they came across a dart game. The vender was a female and smiled at the two males as they stood a little ways away, Jimin turning to face Yoongi.

“Maybe one day we can to the court, the seven of us, and shot some hoops with you. You deserve it, you know? Plus, it would be kinda funny to see Joonie hyung trying to play,” Jimin laughed. “But um, so this is the game I always play every year against Ji-ah and Baekie. Wanna play?”

“Darts? Why am I not surprised?” Yoongi teased. Jimin whined, pushing Yoongi lightly as he rolled his eyes as Yoongi chuckle that followed the action, reaching out to ruffle his messy ash blond hair. “I’m playing. Darts isn’t that bad. I’ll play with you, even if you win.”

“You actually might win. I never won, except once and that was because Baekie had someone run into her while throwing the dart,” he replied with an eye roll. Yoongi bit back another laugh as he shook his head and paid the vendor.

“Then let’s make this interesting, whoever loses has to take a punishment,” Yoongi offered, smirking at the idea. Jimi pursed his lips in thought, eyes dancing as he grinned back and nodded. “The punishment can be anything.”

“You’re on,” Jimin replied, nodding his head briskly.

“Alright, you each have seven darts. The object of the game is to break all the water balloons that you can. Good luck,” she said, stepping to the side. “Ready to go down, midget?”

“Once again, only a centimeter, grandpa!” Jimin shouted back, throwing the first dart and hitting a balloon. Yoongi threw his, grazing the side of one but it didn’t pop. He hated to admit it but this was a bit harder than the hoops. “What kinda throw was that, Mr. Basketball Player?”

“What kinda shoulder span do you have?” Yoongi mouthed off, throwing another dart and actually hitting a balloon while Jimin hit two with a single throw. Huffing at the raise, Jimin threw another dart and hit another while Yoongi missed another.

“Depends. Are you gonna cuddle that stuffie while sleeping?”

“You gonna grow taller than me?” Jimin rolled his eyes and threw the last dart, hitting a balloon dead on while even Yoongi hit one for his last dart, but it was obvious who won and who didn’t.

Jimin turned slowly towards Yoongi, a grin of triumphant on his face as he smirked, eyebrows wiggling. Yoongi frowned, a pit of unease growing in his stomach as the smirk was sinful, playful, and full of warning.

“You played me!” Yoongi cried, looking back and forth between his dart pattern and Jimin’s. The Empower laughed, shaking his head lightly as he ran a hand through his hair and shrugged.

“I wasn’t actually. I truly thought I was going to lose, but I guess constantly practicing my aim with guns has helped my dart game,” he answered, the sinful smirk never leaving his handsome features as he crossed his arms over his chest. “So, looks like I get to pick a punishment.”

A lump got caught in Yoongi’s throat as the vendor offered a prize to Jimin, who was admiring the the stuffed animals carefully, letting them flicker over the different things before his eyes caught a sloth. Smirking, he chose that one and held it up.

“I’m naming it Yoons.” Yoongi’s face fell into a deadpan as he rolled his eyes and glared absently towards the stuffed sloth. Jimin giggled and tucked it under his arm before hurrying over and grabbing Yoongi’s hand. “So. I can really do whatever punishment I want?”

Jimin looked up at him with a guarded expression, biting his bottom lip so it turned red and highly inviting.  Yoongi felt his body tense at the innocent look, but his mind was much less innocent. When Jimin did that, the desire to kiss him grew.

“Um… that was the agreement?” Yoongi whispered uneasily. Jimin licked his lips quickly, dropping his gaze before looking back up through the fringe of his blond hair, dark eyes filling with lust and longing.

“Can I kiss you?”

“How is that a punishment?” yoongi asked, flabbergasted by the odd request. Jimin shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. He looked down as his shoe scoffed the dirt and his hand dropped form Yoongi’s as he fiddled with the hem of his hoodie.

“I don’t know, I justknow you want to take this slow, but I really like kissing you and I thought this could be-”

“Jimin,” Yoongi interrupted firmly, but there was no heat packed behind it. It was soft and fond as he reached back out, clutching his stuffed Koala tighter under his arm as he grabbed Jimin’s hand and pulled him closer, tipping his head back so that he had to look at him. “Yes, I want to take it slow, but I am still…” Yoongi hesitated, closing his eyes and swallowing. “You can kiss me, and hold my hand, I just… I don’t know what I am doing.”

“Honestly, me neither. I just had so much fun today, and I really wanted to kiss you,” Jimin breathed, laughing a bit under his breathe. “But I wasn’t sure of your boundaries and what I can and can’t do and I don’t really know how a healthy relationship works? Cheol never let me kiss him in public and barely tolerate me holding his hand and-”

“Cheol is going to die if you keep talking, baby,” Yoongi growled. Jimin shivered at the pet name, lips parting as his eyes darted to his lips and back towards his eyes. “You can kiss me in public, and hold my hand, I just… can you… like… warn me? I don’t really know how relationships run normally, but I will try.”

“Together. We can try this together,” Jimin promised. Yoongi really liked the sound of that. Having enough of the small talk, yoongi swooped down and captured Jimin’s lips in a soft, quick kiss that stole his breath away, yet made him feel like he was actually breathing.

It wasn’t much, not very long or romantic, but it was enough. It made everything okay. A bit unsure and a little afraid, but the meaning behind it was good enough.

He was trying.

“Jimin?” A familiar voice called, the sound of something tumbling onto the grass following. Jimin pulled away from Yoongi, his heart bursting in his chest as he stared in shock, horror, fear, and terror as grasping at his limbs.

Baekhee stood a little ways away, her hair was back to normal raven black, but the blue contacts still glittered in her eyes. She wore her usual tight blue jeans, a white blouse with a sweater over it.

She looked beautiful as ever, except for her right hand that had pale, spider like vines stretched out across her skin. A reminder of what Jimin has done to her. Her makeup was light, natural, and she stared at Jimin like she was seeing a ghost.

Hell, maybe she was. Jimin felt like ehe was staring at the ghost of his past, of something he wasn’t ready to face.

He felt close to a panic attack. She wasn’t supposed to be here. He wasn’t ready to face her, to see her, to apologize and face what he had done. His chest was aching, fighting to take a breathe. Fighting to breathe.

Yoongi instantly knew what was happening, though not who the person was, and clutched at Jimin’s hand a bit tighter. Jimin felt like hiding behind Yoongi, shielding himself from the confrontation.

“Baekhee,” Jimin squeaked. Yoongi’s eyes blew wide as he jerked his head to look back at the slightly familiar female. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place her, but now he knew why. He had seen her only once before and that was in a passing.

Baekhee was opened mouthed, looking shocked and afraid and yet was relief was surging through her. She glanced between Jimin, who looked small and was trembling like a leaf, breathing uneven and harsh.

She took a step forward, but he jerked backwards, nearly falling on his ass if it wasn’t for Yoongi who grabbed his waist and kept him upright. Baekhee stared at Yoongi, looking unsure and cautious but didn’t say anything.

“It is you,’ Baekhee said instead, returning her eyes towards her best friend. Jimin bit his lip, looking like he was about to cry as Baekhee hugged herself, attempting to keep herself together as her lip trembled. “I t-thought you were dead.”

Jimin didn’t say anything, clutching desperately to Yoongi like he was his lifeline. The Enhancer didn’t mind, easily keeping the younger steady. Baekhee frowned, a tear trailing down her cheek as she searched his features.

“Jihyun said… he said that you left and… and that you weren’t coming back? He said you left to become a dancer or something… I thought we weren’t ever going to see you again… Jihyun… doesn’t say anything about you anymore,” she whispered.

Licking his lips, Jimin looked at the ground as his shoulders hunched forwards, shrouding him as he stepped forwards towards her. Baekhee stayed still, watching him with wide eyes.

“I did leave, Baek. I’m sorry, but that’s all I can tell you. I left and I am not planning on coming back,” Jimin stated, voice barely audible but somehow the breeze seemed to carry it over to her since she looked down, more tears glittering in her eyes like the words were like a punch in the gut. “You always told me to do what I what, Baekhee. To be me. I’m doing it.”

“But you fucking left us! Jihyun… he… he threw himself further into studying and wouldn’t talk to anybody for a days. And me… don’t  you get it? You are my best friend, Jimin.” She raised her head, meeting his gaze dead on. Her hands were shaking, clutched in front of her. “I will always consider you someone so important to me and that hasn’t changed, but it’s been nearly over a month. No calls. No texts. Nothing. I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”

“You don’t know me anymore.” Yoongi blinked at the instant answer, cutting him a side glance but Jimin kept his face impassive, a little sad, but there was a smile there. “Baekhee, you mean the world to me, and always will. You are my sister in every sense of the word, and I am sorry for everything I have done to you. I wish I could take it back, but I am not sorry about this. I have things I need to do, and people who need me. You and Ji-ah? You will be alright.”

Baekhee was silent again, biting her lips as she searched his features like waiting for a sign. Jimin didn’t even blink, just let her watch him as he admired her features. Memorized her in his memory to forever hold there.

Finally, she smiled and pride was written across her features as she dashed over and threw her arms around his neck. Yoongi quickly detached himself, letting Jimin wrap his arms around his best friend as he sniffled, breathing in the familiar scent.

“Whatever it is you are doing, I will always support you, Jimin. I wish you only happiness. I have always wanted you to be happy,” Baek whispered in his ear, hugging him just a bit tighter. He smiled and hugged her back. When she pulled away, her blue eyes landed on Yoongi, eyeing him up and down like a piece of meat. Jimin felt himself blushing, since she did kinda walk in on them kinda kissing. “You are the guy from the house.” Yoongi, blank as ever, nodded. “Take care of Jimin, yeah? Or I will take care of you.”

“Baekhee!”

“Oh shut it, loser. I am the best friend here so I got to make sure this fine piece of ass is gonna take care of you while you off doing god knows what,” Baek quipped, shushing him instantly. Yoongi arched a brow at her words, the side smirk he was famous for appearing on his face. “Now, where was I- oh yes, look, I totally saw you tonguing my boy over here and I can’t say I blame ya- did he turn you gay or something or is all the hot guys gay cause damn I am getting desperate here-”

“Baekie, the point?” Jimin interrupted, looking peeved and amused. Baek made a noise in the back of her throat, shooting him a glare while Yoongi snorted, also amused by the female with a potty mouth.

“Right- off topic- can’t say I blame you for tonguing my boy, but you gotta know he is totally a biting man, so leave some marks would ya? And remember, the best sex is safe sex. If my baby-”

“Baekhee, I swear I will kill you,” Jimin cried, slamming a hand across her mouth as his face turned tomato red and made his skin hot. “We aren’t even dating, you bitch, so shut up.” surprise filtered across her face before she removed his hand and looked at Jimin in surprise. Whatever her face read, he clearly almost died. “Baek, no! It isn’t like that! Aish.”

“Oh good. I was about to be like, you got yourself a sugar daddy. Sign me up,” she muttered and rolled her eyes. Jimin screeched and covered his face with his hands before Baek adjusted her blouse and glanced at yoongi. “I’m Baekhee by the way.”

“Yoongi.” He gave a small bow. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well, Yoongi-ssi.” Baekhee smiled at him before turning to Jimin and touching his hair. Jimin removed his hands and glanced up, seeing her smiling again. She tugged at his hair. “I like it. It suits you.”

“Thanks.” Baek nodded before dropping her hand and looking back at the ground.

“So, have you been keeping in touch with Jihyun?” She asked. Jimin shifted, swallowing thickly.

“For a while I was. But my father-” Jimin choked on the words, hating the taste of it in his mouth but he pushed on. “He disconnected my phone and disowned me. I haven’t been able to speak to Ji-ah in a couple of weeks.”

Baekhee inhaled sharply, looking wide eyed as she blinked. “Jimin, you don’t know?”

“Don’t know what?”

“Jihyun got accepted into a science, technology, and business institute in Seoul. Your father sold the house and is planning on moving there at the end of the month,” she explained breathlessly. Disbelief and shock slammed into Jimin like a bullet, stealing his breathe. Baek gave a worried look when he stumbled backwards, but Yoongi was already there.

“They… they are… leaving me?” Jimin rushed out, the world spinning. Baekhee bit her lip, looking at a loss for words while hurt, betrayal, and sadness clutched at his chest and made his stomach sink in disbelief. It finally, truly, settled in his mind.

He was no longer Park Jimin. His father had erased him. He had no one now. He had nothing. The knowledge was crippling, sending tons of pain to numb his mind and blood. There was no lightening this time, and that was okay.

“Jihyun didn’t want to leave you, Jiminie. You know how much he loves you. He told me the other night that he just wants to see you one last time, but I didn’t understand what he meant. He kept saying dad wouldn’t allow it,” Baekhee explained quickly. “I didn’t know much. Really.”

“W-what day?”

“The 30th. You have some time, Jimin. Here.” Baekhee grabbed a napkin from one of the venders and a pen from her pocket as she wrote down two numbers and thrust it quickly into Jimin’s hands. “The first one is Jihyun’s new number. The second one is mine. If you get the chance, Jimin, text me and I’ll be there. If you need me, I will always come.”

Nodding wordlessly, he felt like he was close to shattering again. He was too afraid to talk in fear his voice will crack and he will fall apart. Baekhee seemed to know that because she smiled sweetly, kissing his temple as she hugged him.

He hugged her back desperately, so relieved that he had seen her. That everything was okay between them and he would always have her. One day, he was going to tell her the truth, the full story.

But it wasn’t today.

Pulling away, she touched his cheek and smiled. “Stay safe and don’t be a stranger. I’ll see you soon. I have to go though.” Nodding, he watched as she waved and jogged off in another direction, head swirling around to look for somebody.

Yoongi appeared next to Jimin, looking down at him with dark eyes, searching as the younger looked up. “Come on, kitten. Let’s go home, yeah?”

“Okay, hyung.”

Chapter Text

Namjoon stood in the the arch of the kitchen, smiling at the silence of the house that was a little eerie compared to the usual hustle and bustle that ran through the home, but was welcomed.

Exhaustion was weighing heavily across his tired, overworked mind. The conversations and words running through his overly quick thought. All he saw in his mind’s eye was the words he had been reading, over and over again, tangled throughout the thought of plans and worries.

For once in his life, he wished he could shut off his mind. Shut off his power so he wouldn’t see it anymore. But that wasn’t how his kind worked. He was doomed to hear, to see, whatever he has read for the rest of the time.

Jin glanced over his shoulder, stepping away from where he was making tea and giving him a worried frown. “Baby, I sent everyone out so you can relax. Stop thinking so hard,” he whispered, stepping forward and cupping Namjoon’s cheeks in his hands.

Namjoon breathed in the scent of the man he loved, a man who he felt like he hasn’t seen or touched in so long. He missed him desperately. He missed the company, the way he knew him without even speaking, and the comfort the older brought.

With everything that has been happening, the way he had been shutting himself in his office and watching for any sign of something he felt so disconnected from his own group, from his husband, from the people he cared about.

He was so tired.

“Baby…” Jin murmured, rubbing his thumb over the soft flesh of his cheek. Namjoon’s eyes fluttered closed, a moan catching in his throat as he leaned against Jin, hands slithering across the slender waist and lifting his shirt to touch the warm flesh underneath. “Stop thinking about everything. Let go, Joonie. It’s just you and me.”

“Jinie…” Namjoon groaned, already frustrated at the soft voice the male was using to him, delighting in the touch of Jin’s touch and craving more. He was craving to feel all of Jin, to reconnect on everything he has been missing.

He was already hard at the thought of bringing Jin to his bed, to finally taste him again, was overwhelming. He wanted to let go and pleasure the man who has been by his side all this time, supporting him, even when he wasn’t paying attention to him.

He was still here.

Jin, forever reading his thoughts, gave a sad smile at the route Namjoon’s thoughts had taken. It was true. With the rush of everything, it felt like JIn hardly saw Namjoon, even though he slept next to almost every night- minus the all-nighters he pulled- and he was lonely.

That, and with Bang’s warning and thoughts that haunted Jin, he knew it was time for the others to go see their real families. Bang was right. This was getting dangerous. It was getting real. Before felt like play compared to this.

Jin wasn’t sure what to expect. Iron Clad was becoming more unpredictable, more threatening, and he was beginning to feel helpless. They were just seven boys, boys with pasts that haunted their futures, and powers that were as strong as their hearts.

He was a little afraid. Afraid for Namjoon, for the boys he considered sons. When he joined the Faction, he knew what it would entail. He knew. But now, he could feel the time ticking. Feel the countdown that was going through all their heads.

It had to be the main reason he sent everyone away. He knew they needed this. They needed time to gather themselves, possibly see their families before everything goes to hell in a handbasket.

He, himself, was considering heading home. Taking Namjoon and outing himself to his family, laying everything out there. He never told them he married. Never told them that his sexual preference included no children except unruly brats he had been raising.

He did have things to take care of.

Looking slightly downwards towards Namjoon, his eyes softened. He ran his fingers through his white-blond hair and smiled a bit more when the male responded instantly by leaning into him. He wasn't use to such a submissive Namjoon, who usually dominate the relationship, but he was craving affection.

“Namjoonie,” Jin started gently, gaining his attention instantly. His hands tightened around his slender waist, bringing him closer as he peered into his eyes with a questioning look on his face. Swallowing a bit nervous, Jin looked down quickly. “I… I want to go home. I’m ready for you to meet them now.”

At first, Namjoon looked confused before it dawned on him. It was a conversation that they had had many times before, but Jin always refused. He always said it didn’t matter and that they weren’t important, but Namjoon wanted to be more traditional.

But now, Jin was finally ready. He was tired of running.

Steeling his face, Namjoon grabbed Jin’s chin, bringing his face back up and meeting his gaze evenly. “Are you sure about this, Jin? I never wanted to force you or anything. We don’t have to tell them we are married if you want. I can settled for being your good friend to them.”

Jin instantly shook his head, inching closer as he buried his nose in the crook of Namjoon’s neck and let the younger wrap his arms around him and cradle him there. He soaked in his scent like a drug addict. He never really got the chance to do this in front of the others, but he craved it.

“No. I am tired of that. What the fuck does it matter anymore? I am not an heir to their company anymore and I… I would like their approval but I will not change who I am to meet it,” Jin stated firmly, taking in a shuddering breath.  Namjoon tightened his hold. “I love you, and I am married to you, and if they can’t accept that, that is their problem.”

“I love you,” Namjoon groaned, swooping down to capture his lips. Jin groaned into the kiss, hands clenching around the fabric of Namjoon’s shirt as he kissed him back with vigor. After a while of not being touched, he was eager to claim what was his back, but that would have to wait.

Pulling away, which was a lot harder than he would like to admit, he met Namjoon’s gaze and licked his lips. The other’s eyes followed the movements, copying them like he was hungry for him too.

“We have to wait, Joonie. We have a two hour train ride there and then who knows how long with my family. I promise though- tonight, we will have sex,” Jin promised, tapping Namjoon’s chest. The younger groaned, but agreed. Smiling, Jin gestured for the stairs. “Come on, love. We better go get ready. Dips on shower first.”

“Of course, beautiful.” Laughing at the praise, Jin preened and lifted his head higher. Namjoon only smiled lovingly as Jin hurried up the stairs and they both proceeded to get ready.

 

******

 

Jin felt the first crawling of unease settle in his stomach as he climbed in