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Chapter Text



“I need a shipment by next week.” Namjoon says towards the phone placed on his desk on speaker. His hands were busy at the moment, one fiddling with the vibrator’s remote and the other caressing the blonde locks of the boy between his legs.

“No problem. The usual?” a gruff voice came as an answer from the other end of the line.

Namjoon leaned back in his leather chair and stifled a moan as his length got deepthroated in one swift go. He amped the vibrator to an eight and he could feel the boy beginning to tremble and suck on him harder.

“No, I need subs this time, Sterlings and MK5s.”

“Subs? Boss, you know those are not easy to acquire …”

Namjoon huffed in annoyance and pulled on the blonde’s hair hard enough to make him cry, crocodile tears rolling down his reddened cheeks.

“I don’t care about the difficulty of the task, all I care about is that you deliver them by next week.”

Truly gunrunning was the most tedious branch of his trade. The casinos basically ran themselves and money laundering was child’s play but smuggling weapons was always so unnecessarily complicated it drove him up the walls at times. He had come up with a system a few years back and managed to get rid of most middle men but somehow still despite his best efforts somebody always had to fuck things up.

“It might take more than a week, boss…”

“For god’s sake,Jackie, have you learned nothing since I assigned you to China? It takes so long because you’re counting on the local dealers to bring you the guns instead of going straight to the supplier. Contact Tao in Hong Kong and get them from him.”

“But, Sir, Tao’s…he’s not our man.”

“Make him our man. All the money you would have spent on middlemen can go to him now, he’ll make double the profit selling to us. Tao’s only loyal to himself anyway, he’ll accept.”

“Yeah, but the implications…”

“Are mine to deal with. Call me again only after you made the deal.”

Namjoon tossed the remote on the desk and ended the call, groaning in frustration, running his hand through his silver hair and then roughly pressing it to his forehead.

“That’s enough, Minnie, I don’t feel like it anymore.” he says to the boy on the floor that is quick to comply and pull away from his cock.

“Are you ok, daddy?” The voice comes unsure and broken.

“Yeah, I’m alright …” He wasn’t going to start sharing his business concerns with his boytoy, he liked keeping pleasure and business separate after all.  Jimin whimpered, his beautiful, full thighs shaking uncontrollably as he did his best to ignore the constant  vibrations against his prostate. He looked up to Namjoon, fat lips still slick with spit and eyes swimming in tears, blown wide with lust. 

“Ah, baby, what have you done to yourself?” Namjoon scolds him as he eyes his boy’s short length ,  angry red from how he had unconsciously humped the floor while blowing him. “Come here, let daddy take of you.”

Jimin tried to stand but the shift in position moved the vibrator as well and his knees buckled almost instantly. He tried again, unsure as a newborn, holding on to the large desk, shivers running through his entire body. He took one step and immediately fell luckily in his daddy’s arms.

Namjoon reached behind him and slowly eased the buzzing toy out of his plump ass. Jimin sighed in relief and melted into his hold.

“ You held on for so long, such a good baby for me …”

“I did well?” Jimin fished for more praises.

“You did great, sweetheart, my precious angel, you’re the best babydoll in the world. But …”

Namjoon tucked himself back in his pants, his attention now fully on his boy as he guided him backwards and perched him on the shiny surface of his desk.

“But, he continued, I don’t like it when baby gets hurt, you know this, yet look at your tiny cock, all chaffed and red from humping the floor like some animal, Minnie, you should know better.”

The younger lowered his head in shame, tears starting to roll down his cheeks once more. He hated disappointing his daddy, couldn’t bear even the thought of it. Through hickups he tried apologizing but the more he babbled on the sadder he felt. He was about to full on throw a crying fit when he felt his face cupped gently by a warm pair of hands he had come to associate with the idea of home. His breathing evened after a few moments and he looked up shyly through his bangs, his daddy smiling at him sweetly.

“I’m not angry, baby, ok? We’ll put some cream on that and next time you’ll be more careful, right?”

“Yes, daddy, I’ll...I’ll be careful…promise…I won’t … upset you.”

“Good. Now stop sniffling, daddy wants to make you feel good, yeah? A reward for taking daddy’s cock so well today. Lean back and spread your legs for me, show me your pretty hole.”

Jimin did as he was told, leaning back on his elbows and planting his small feet on the edge of the desk, presenting his puffy entrance with something aching to pride. Namjoon caressed the back of his thighs, taking in the view while licking his lips.

“You’re so beautiful, Minnie, the most beautiful doll in the world and all mine to take care of.”

He used his thumbs to spread him open a little, watching intently as lube trickled out and began dripping on the floor. Namjoon believed that too much lube was the right amount of lube, he would never risk Jimin tearing or feeling even the slightest bit uncomfortable. After a few moments he ducked down and licked a fat stripe from Jimin’s perineum to his balls. The boy shuddered, goosebumps all over. Namjoon continued but this time focusing on the puckered entrance, licking fast and hungry, moaning in pleasure as if he was devouring a ripe peach. His boy was moaning too, wantonly, desperately and he obeyed, alternating now between licking and sucking on his rim. Jimin turned to mush, mouth agape as helpless whimpers escaped his lips, drooling down his chin, he was lost. Namjoon continued so focused on giving his baby pleasure he forgot about everything else around him : the still buzzing discarded vibrator on the floor, his hard-on that came back with vengeance and the incessant ringing of his phone. He ignored them all, plunging his tongue as deeply as he can inside of Jimin, tasting him in ways nobody else ever did or ever will. He carefully slipped in a finger, making the blond scream as he curled it just right, prodding the bundle of nerves that would send him over the edge in no time.

“Come for me, angel, give daddy your cum.”

“Daddy … daddy…I’m …”

Namjoon understood him perfectly and wrapped his lips around his boy just as he came with a loud scream, swallowing every spurt and licking him clean while he came down from his high. Jimin was wrecked, limbs turned to jelly, he let Namjoon pick him up and hug him tight, cuddling in his lap as he rocked the big office chair back and forth on its wheels. Jimin was crying and he didn’t know why but he figured it must be because of how happy he felt.

“Daddy…Daddy I love you so…”

“Hush now, I have to take this call.”

And just like that Namjoon was all business again, barking at the subordinate on the other end of the line, giving orders, making deals. Kim Namjoon was the head of one Asia’s most powerful mafias and at the end of the day he only truly cared about one thing : taking down his rival.


Chapter Text

It was Italian food today, Jin really had a craving for saltimbocca so he had his men bring in the best chef in town to make him lunch. The food could have been ready ages ago if the man hadn’t felt the need to break down crying every ten minutes or so and Jin was now a little pissed off, having to postpone a couple of meetings but nothing could ever make him eat in a rush, he liked enjoying his meals, chewing thoroughly and taking his time smelling and looking at every bite. He decided on raspberry panna cotta for dessert and while that was being prepared and hopefully not doused in tears Jin was sipping a cup of creamy cappuccino when one of his men barged in, covered in blood and visibly distraught.

“Master Kim, I’m sorry to bother you like this but something horrible just went down …”

Jin raised a brow and gave the man a questioning look, urging him silently to explain himself.

“ We were at the docks, about to load the weapons shipment when we got a call from your man in Hong Kong. He told us that all deals were off and that we should keep our hands off the goods. I told him that we already paid him and we were gonna continue loading so he hung up and the next second his men opened fire on us. We fired back and it got bloody but we managed to chase them away and transport the goods before the cops arrived. We also captured one of them and brought him back with us, thought you might wanna question him, Sir. ”

Jin dipped a biscotti in the cappuccino and carefully took a bite, savoring the taste of almonds and coffee together. He smiled happily at the delicious combination and then set his cup on the table, turning and gesturing to bring the person in. The subordinate obeyed and with the help of another dragged in a youngster that was struggling with all his might against the tight squeeze of the bonds that kept his hands behind his back. He was forced to kneel next to Jin whom he regarded with hatred and anger. Jin smiled sweetly.

“What’s your name?”

“Fuck you!”

“That’s a funny name. Tell me, Fuck you, how long have you been working for Tao? Not that long I imagine since you look like you haven’t even finished highschool yet. Am I right? Did he pluck you off the streets, tell you that you could make good money gunrunning for him? He kept his word too, I bet, paid you handsomely, you dropped out and thought you were such a hotshot gangster. Now look at you, beaten and tied up on my floor … Do you know why Tao uses boys like you to run his operation? Because you’re cheap and stupid and dispensable.”

Jin sat up from the table, taking his cup of coffee with him and paced for a few moments before deciding to fish his phone from the pocket of his pressed trousers and dial Tao’s number. He picked up after five rings.

“Ni hao, Tao, Jin chuckles. How are you? How’s the weather in Hong Kong?”

“Cut the bullshit, Seokjin, came the reply. We’re done doing business. It was nice while it lasted but I’m a practical guy, if someone offers me more I take the deal. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize when you don’t mean it, it’s very rude.  Who paid you more? I’m curious. Was it Kwon? I never pictured him as an arms dealer. Whoever it was you could have called, you know, we could have worked things out, I’m sure…”

“It’s Kim and he’s paying me double.”

Jin froze midsentence and took in a sharp breath as anger began running through his veins like fire. He put the cup down and counted to ten in his mind.

“I see, he eventually said. That’s a shame. In that case I’m going to have to urge you to take the necessary precautions because next time my men see yours there will be a blood bath. For your own good, stop dealing in Korea or else I’ll personally see that you won’t be able to use any of your limbs again. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Tao. Have a nice day!”

Jin ended the call on a bright note, his tone not betraying his inner turmoil. In truth he was seeing red but he steeled himself as much as possible, counting once more in his head, putting his phone away and taking another sip of the now luke warm cappuccino. He was about to complain about it and order someone to bring him another when the chef walked in with his panna cotta on a silver tray. The man froze when he realized his poor timing and wanted to walk  back into the kitchen before he got beaten up again for disturbing the head mobster but Jin noticed him and cheered up instantly.

“Ah, dessert! Perfect timing! I really needed something to fix my mood.”

The chef tried to smile a little but it came out as a grimace as he placed the dessert on the table with shaky hands. Jin was gleeful as he took his seat and picked up the small spoon to taste the velvety smooth treat. He moaned in pleasure, throwing his head back.

“Yummy! This is truly delicious. Compliments to the chef! Ah, by the way, since you’re heading back to the kitchen, could you be so kind and fetch me a cleaver? Thank you.”

The man’s eyes went wide in fear but he nodded nonetheless and bowed deeply a few times, exiting the room backwards so as to not anger Jin who honestly was too busy savoring the raspberries.

His men waited patiently around him, two of them making sure that the boy still kneeling on the floor was being quiet, and they all watched him finish eating. The chef returned with the cleaver, placing it on the table and  scurrying away terrified. Jin thanked him around his last mouthful then wiped his rosy lips, humming contently.

“That was truly delicious. He truly is the best Italian chef in town, I should invite him over more often.”

Jin takes the cleaver and admires his reflection in the shiny heel of the blade, fixing his caramel colored bangs and winking at himself.

“Say, Fuck you, can you guess what my favorite dessert is?”

The men in the room all visibly tense up. Everybody had heard about the sick game master Kim liked to play with those he was about to kill and they all knew that dying at his hands was the worst way to go.

“Please, don’t do this…” the boy on the floor begged.

“Aww, what’s wrong now? Where did all that gangster swag go? C’mon now, it’s really unbecoming to beg. Just answer my question, hm? I promise that if you guess correctly I’ll let you go.”

The boy began to cry, shuddering and whimpering pathetically. Jin watched with a disappointed look upon his face and sighed tiredly, as if the weight of the world entirely rested on his shoulders.

“Seriously… I’m giving you a chance. You should be more grateful, you know?”

“I’m sorry…please…”

“Then take a guess.”

“ I don’t know…I don’t know…umm…something Italian? Uh…gelato or…fuck, I don’t know…”

“Hmm, I do like gelato a lot, it’s true. But it’s not my favorite. What’s your favorite dessert?”

“My…Shit, I don’t know. I guess I just like chocolate.”

“Chocolate? Just like that? Like from a store, a chocolate bar?”

“Yeah, like that, just chocolate…”

“Well I guess I can’t blame you, you are a child after all. One that shot at my men and probably killed a bunch too. Not to mention all the people that died thanks to the weapons you were peddling. That’s quite the body count for someone so young and stupid. But yeah, chocolate is pretty amazing. Unfortunately not my favorite though.”

Jin grabbed the boy by the scruff of his neck and hauled him up to them brutally toss him backwards on to the table, sending plates and cutlery and flower filled vases flying to the floor where they shattered with a grating noise. The boy screamed and it was the last he did before Jin took the cleaver and tore his chest open. Blood came gushing out as expect and Jin licked his lips, tasting it. He was being drenched in it as he began cleaving away, pulling bones apart and sticking his hands in the warm, gelatinous cavern of the dead boy’s ribcage, searching and soon finding his still heart. He pulls it out and looks at it curiously before picking up a small plate that only chipped but didn’t shatter and placing the vital organ on it.

Jin turns to his men that were staring at the floor, trying not to make eye contact or show any signs of discomfort in regards to the gory scene in front of them.

“Hey, do you guys think the chef knows how to make a yummy sufrite?”

Chapter Text

Life just wasn’t fair , Yoongi figured. He had woken up at fuck o’clock in the morning to have enough time to reply to dozens of business emails and had to skip breakfast for the nth day in a row because just as soon as he had hit SEND for the last time, one of his phones rang urging him to the other side of town where a transaction turned bloody because some douchebag thought he could use counterfeit money when doing business with Kim Namjoon. Yoongi entered the nearest coffee shop still wiping blood off his fingers with a wet tissue and was in the middle of ordering a tall Americano with no sugar and no milk when he was summoned to the docks to assist in receiving a shipment of subs from China.

And now he was on the ground, hidden behind some crates, caught in a crossfire with coffee spilled over his pants. Life was shit. Or at least had become shit ever since Yoongi was named Namjoon’s second in command, a glorified position which truthfully only meant that he was the one that had to supervise and organize all the dirty work of the Kim clan while at the same time trying to dodge the constant attacks coming from the other Kim clan. He also couldn’t remember the last time he was able to actually enjoy his morning coffee. His phone rang and Yoongi groaned in frustration, firing a few barrage bullets and then picking up.

“Yoongi, I need you to head over downtown to…”

“Sorry, boss, I’m a bit tied up at the moment, got a situation here at the docks.”

“Is that gunfire I’m hearing?”

“Yep.” Yoongi replied, popping the p at the end. He was truly exhausted and the day was only halfway over. He could hear his boss sigh at the other end of the line and he almost felt bad for him until he remembered that the bastard was probably sitting in his plush office chair with a warm cup of coffee on his desk and he grimaced angrily. “ What do you want us to do, boss? The men firing our way are Kim Seokjin’s.”

“That comes as no surprise, we are technically robbing them. Fall back, let Tao’s men deal with it. I need you downtown, the district attorney just killed his wife and he wants that shit taken care off.”

Just like that the boss hung up, leaving Yoongi to huff and mutter profanity as he empties his gun in a couple of thugs and orders his men to get the fuck out of there. Their retreat is followed by angry protests in Chinese but Yoongi can’t be bothered to care at this point, he works for Namjoon afterall, not for Tao and frankly he considers himself above a death in a shooting at the docks like some goon number five in a mobster movie.

To be honest Yoongi’s opinion of himself fluctuates a lot. On most days he wakes up with a powerful determination to get shit done, a determination fueled by the knowledge that only he alone can get the shit done. He’s smart, of that he is sure. He is able to plan in advance and stay two steps ahead of his enemies, he’s good at reading people and assessing situations correctly in mere seconds. He doesn’t speak much and he doesn’t show any signs of weakness. He’s efficient, he stays on top of things at all times, his computer and phones all synched up and organized, Yoongi knows everything about everything and he keeps all information because you never know when it might become useful. He could run the entire familia if he had the one thing that Namjoon has and he doesn’t: sheer, violent ruthlessness.

Yoongi was keeping a handkerchief tightly to his nose because the smell of blood and guts made him gag. The district attorney didn’t just kill his wife, he had butchered her, limbs and organs all over the fucking place, the man himself was taken aback when he came to from his bad trip and realized what he had done.

“What the fuck were you on?!” Yoongi asks, his question muffled.

The attorney was as white as a sheet, clutching an expensive looking bottle of whiskey , slumped on one of the few chairs that didn’t have blood on them. He just shook his head, mumbling something about LSD and it being cheap and obviously laced. Yoongi groaned once more and signaled his men to get started. He snapped a few pictures of the dismembered body and of the attorney just in case and then began making phone calls to some highly specialized cleaners.

He was feeling queasy and he hated himself for it. Namjoon wouldn’t have even flinched at such cold hearted murder, Namjoon wouldn’t have turned white and green because of a bad smell, Namjoon wouldn’t have his pants wetly stuck to his legs because of spilled coffee since two hours ago. Yoongi removes the handkerchief and feels himself gagging, vomit caught in his throat and forced back, he coughs and clenches his jaws before speaking with as much self control as he could muster.

“This is gonna cost you and it’s gonna cost you a lot. We’re talking a few millions here, part of it for the cleaners, part of it to keep the cops and the press away and most of it for fucking up my day.”

“I’ll pay, I’ll pay … Just… Make this shit go away.”

“This shit was your wife.” Yoongi barks back with a sort of righteousness he thought he had snuffed out ages ago.

“She was a hot piece of ass that threatened me with child support if I didn’t marry her. Was all she was good at … threats and blowjobs.”

Yoongi was grateful for the phone ringing for the first time that day because he was about to give that guy a black eye. He checked his right pocket but it wasn’t the right phone so he fished the iphone from his jacket and answered on the 5th ring.

“Junhong, what happened?”

“Ah, boss, why can’t you just call me Zelo?”

“I don’t care what your stupid street name is, kid, what happened? I’ve had a shit day and you never give me good news.”

“Well it’s not terrible news either…Someone just left a … package on big boss’ front steps.”

“What kind of package? Speak clearly.”

“Well it’s pretty gruesome. It’s a body with like its chest ripped open and I don’t know, heart torn out  and the hole, like in the ribcage, there’s bullets but they weren’t fired, just put inside. I don’t know what it’s supposed to mean…”

“Send me a picture.”

“Are you sure, boss? I know you don’t like gore much…”

“I’m perfectly fine with it, what are you talking about? Send me the damn picture.”

“Ok, boss, whatever you want. Should I move the body? The Boss’ bitch came home and he freaked out big time when he saw it.”

“Call Jimin a bitch one more time and I’ll knock your teeth in. He ranks higher than all of us, if you so much as make him frown the boss will have you dangling by your neck at the end of a rope off the balcony of his penthouse. “

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sheesh, I keep forgetting you have a soft spot for the b…for Jimin.”

“I don’t, I just understand where I stand, unlike most of you. Now take that body away, clean up and maybe try and find out who the poor bastard was.”

Yoongi hung up and only a few moments later the dreaded picture pops up on his screen and it’s just as gruesome as he imagined. He couldn’t figure out exactly what the bullets shoved in the open chest were supposed to mean but honestly he didn’t care all that much. This was clearly Seokjin’s handiwork and he learnt in time to stop trying to figure the madman out. Namjoon would know better anyway.  

It took them four hours to erase any trace of the murder. Yoongi made the district attorney transfer the money the second they were done and emailed the proof of payment to Namjoon, then he accompanied his men to the outskirt of the capital to some isolated landfill where they torched the body and buried the bones. He took pictures and added them to his “places where we hid bodies” collection in case anything happened and they needed to be moved.

One of his phones rung once more.

“Did you get rid of the body?”

“Which body are you talking about, boss? The attorney’s wife or the one on your front steps?”

“Both. The one Jin sent was one of Tao’s men. I guess it’s his way of reminding me I’m heartless.”

“You’re not the one that carved up a kid, boss, I wouldn’t dwell too much on it. He’s just trying to get under your skin.”

“He fucking lives there already.”

Yoongi didn’t reply, instead just looked around the desolated area waiting for his boss to calm down. He knew it wasn’t wise to comment any further on the ongoing battle of wills between the Kims.  He decided a while ago that it was none of his business, it was just safer that way.

“Anyway, Namjoon eventually speaks, I want you at the casino in an hour. I have a job for you. “

“I’ll be there. See ya, Boss.”

The drive back took close to an hour and Yoongi wished he could have dozed off within that time, a quick nap to maybe take the edge off of all the stress he accumulated over the day but he had emails to go through and messages to send and tasks to delegate. He spent his ride incessantly talking on one phone while scrolling on the other. His batteries were close to dying so he pulled out his power bank and wished that technology hadn’t become so efficient. He’d kill for an excuse to take a break. Some associate was saying something to him but he had become distracted by the huge coffee stains on his trousers. Soon the light up glitz of the casino came into sight and it was nightfall already, the air turning cool and smelling of rain. He ended the call with the promise to get back to them as soon as he had more info on whatever transaction was going array this time around.

Yoongi walked inside without even glancing at the bouncer or the long line of people dolled up for the evening, impatient to get in and lose huge sums of money. He knew Namjoon would be at the poker table surrounded by important people that loved to think that they were safe in the man’s presence just because they line his pockets monthly.

The table was lively, Namjoon was a great host and he had a funny and enthusiastic way of speaking that made any story seem interesting so the people didn’t have to force themselves to laugh and relax in his company. As long as everybody played by the rules the mafia boss was the nicest person in Seoul.  Of course if you chose to disobey well…Yoongi had to personally break a man’s arm once for smoking inside the casino.

The no smoking rule was established for one person’s benefit alone and that was Jimin’s. And Jimin was breathtaking tonight as he was every night, perched on Namjoon’s knee, the prettiest trophy, wrapped in a mink shrug, jewelry glistening on his neck and ears and tiny hands, he was a vision and Yoongi’s heart clenched as he approached the boss and greeted him.

“Ah, Yoongi, I’ve been waiting for you. How did things go today?”

“Pretty well, boss, no hiccups to speak of, business running smoothly.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Have a glass of something, relax a bit. Whiskey?”

“No thanks, boss. I’m good. What did you want me to do?”

“I want to finish this poker game but it’s almost Minnie’s bedtime so could you take him home and tuck him in for me?”

It wasn’t a question, Yoongi knew this but he would have wanted any other task than this, anything at all. He nodded his consent silently.

“Excellent. It’s been getting chilly in the evenings lately so make sure to turn up the heat a little in his room and give him some vitamins before he goes to bed.”

“Got it, boss.”

“You’ve got coffee stains on your pants, have you been running around looking like that all day? C’mon Yoongi, I can’t have my second in command look like a slob, be more careful next time, ok?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m sorry, boss. It won’t happen again. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He took a few steps back as Jimin leaned in to kiss Namjoon goodbye and whine because he had to leave. Namjoon chuckled and assured him he’ll be home soon but at the same time reminded him to be a good boy. Jimin promised to obey and it made Yoongi’s heart sink.

Soon enough they were walking towards the car, Jimin a few steps behind, slower in his stride because of the heels he was wearing. Yoongi opened the door for him and he tried to ignore the fact that the younger hadn’t spoken a word to him. He feared that Jimin only saw him as just another faceless subordinate of Namjoon’s.

It was incredibly difficult to be around Jimin. To watch him kick off his shoes as soon as he entered the penthouse and continue on barefoot on the plush rugs, discarding his clothing one by one until the floor was littered with designer fabric and he stood naked but for his jewelry. Jimin was shameless in his beauty. He took off his makeup carefully and went through his nightly routine with practice precision.  Yoongi busied himself with the instructions he was given, fiddling with the heating and preparing a fizzy vitamin supplement which he placed on the nightstand by the huge king bed that was soft as a cloud. When that was done he just waited around, looking out the ceiling to floor windows at the glimmering still busy city. It was merely 10 o’clock but for Jimin that meant bedtime.

The blond came in yawning, his face dewy from the expensive cream he had applied and his silk pajamas hanging loosely from his tiny form. He climbed onto the bed and was about to close his eyes when Yoongi spoke.

“Don’t forget your vitamins.”

Jimin groaned and Yoongi smiled at his childishness, as if downing the glass of water was an insurmountable task. But he obeyed as he always does and then he plopped back onto the pillows, soft locks fanning around his head like a hallo. Yoongi waited until he closed his eyes and began drifting to sleep. Before he left he reached out to tuck him in more snuggly and couldn’t resist softly caressing his cheek. Jimin batted his hand away immediately.

“You’re not allowed to touch me …” he mumbled sleepily.

“ I know, Yoongi whispered. I’m sorry.”

He carefully locked the door as he left, chest aching and heavy. He dismissed the driver and took the car for a fast ride with the windows down in hopes of calming himself least he be spending another sleepless night drinking and smoking his sorrow into submission alone in his condo.

He discarded his stained pants as soon as he was home, plugged in his phones to charge and set the alarm early for tomorrow. He might need to make a trip to China soon and he was hoping to set his other affairs in order before that happened because he hated missing out on things whenever he was out of the country. He also wrote down on a post-it to buy a travel mug.

The face that greeted him in the bathroom mirror didn’t look familiar. Actually Yoongi had stopped recognizing himself years ago and with each day this dark haired stranger’s visage seemed realer to him than the Yoongi he used to know. Tired and sick of this world, lonely and desperate, this Yoongi is so unlike the bubbly one that came before him yet his presence is the strongest now.

He hopped into the shower to avoid thinking about the matter any further. The hot stream of water relaxed his muscles and mind and Yoongi thought that at least he didn’t get shot today, at least he didn’t have to kill anybody today, at least he saw Jimin, at least he touched Jimin, at least …

Jimin had been so beautiful. Gorgeous all dolled up and adorned with diamonds, stunning bare faced and sleepy, laid out like an angel on a cloud. Soft, tiny waisted Jimin with his plush lips and small feet … Yoongi couldn’t keep his hand off of himself at the thought.

God how he yearned to touch that body, how he wanted to devour the boy. Yoongi closed his eyes picturing it, those strong thighs parted for him invitingly, small hands clutching the sheets in pleasure, a Jimin that would never tell him no, that would actually beg for his touch for a change. Yoongi cums in thick spurts on the tilled wall, trembling and breathing out Jimin’s name like a prayer. The tears follow as he comes down from his short lived high.

Jimin whom he loved desperately, Jimin for whom he had thrown his entire life away. He adored him, he worshipped him in secret, tearing himself apart each day.



Chapter Text

Taehyung had to lather his entire behind and lower back in arnica gel and frankly by now just the smell of it was able to trigger his nausea. Not that he found anything particularly disgusting about the gel, it was the feeling of being marked up and used up that made him want to throw up at the mere sight of himself in the mirror. He should be used to it by now, years upon years as a sex worker should have hardened his heart, tempered his soul like fire would a sword. Yet he somehow still remained the same doe eyed Taehyung, the same lanky boy that danced like a snake and bent like a twig. He waited for the cream to penetrate his skin and with a huff he got up and pulled on some comfortable baggy clothes. He was working tonight so he planned to spend the day conserving his energy.

His laptop was overheating again since it hadn’t been turned off in over a day. Taehyung scrolled a bit through the black market sites and made a few mental notes about who was selling what. Apparently the Chinese market was low on subs which was odd considering the demand for them from the States. Somebody must have placed a large order and if his deductions were right, and they usually were, that someone was probably Kim Namjoon. A bold move, winning over Jin’s supplier, this put the younger Kim at a great advantage, close to monopolizing the gun market in East Asia. Which meant that Jin was very likely pissed and that meant very bad news for Taehyung’s behind.

He clicked around for a while longer and accepted a few odd jobs, mostly falsifying passports and death certificates and customizing some computer viruses. Taehyung might be a great stripper and a good sex worker but he was an incredible tech whiz. His long fingers would fly on a keyboard like a pianist’s over the piano keys, he could play data like an instrument, adapting it to his own tune, creating his personalized melody, his only passion really, in the digital world he was someone, he had a good reputation as someone of notable talent whereas out here, in the so called real world… Taehyung was nothing more than Kim Seokjin’s property.

He was even branded as such, the white scar lines that read “property of K.S.” littered his inner right thigh so that everybody that spread his legs won’t be able to forget exactly who he belonged to. So that Taehyung himself won’t ever be able to forget either, the memory of the scorching pain branded onto his memory as much as the mark itself on his flesh.

His phone rang, jerking him out of his sulking.


“Taetae! It’s me!”

“Chimchim, what are you doing? You’re not supposed to be making phone calls! How do you even have a phone?!”

“I nicked it from one of daddy’s guards. They’re all dumb dumbs.”

Taehyung chuckled when he heard the bubbly laughter at the other end of the line. He had missed Jimin, but he was worried for his safety so he didn’t try to make contact with him. It has been way over a month since they last spoke.

“How are you, Chim?”

“I’m good. Bored out of my minds but good. Daddy doesn’t let me do anything but what else is new? He’s been keeping me away from the business meetings lately so I’m cooped up in the penthouse most of the day.”

“Kim Namjoon’s been making some pretty big deals lately, the market is agitated. People think he’s cooking up something big.”

“Are you curious what it is, Taetae? You are, aren’t you? Can’t help yourself around a mystery. You would have been a good detective. Remember when we used to play cops and robbers?”

Taehyung remembers those sordid days back at the orphanage in the half crumbling building where they only had their imagination to play with and only their games to forget the hunger and the cold that clung to them like a second skin. He hates the fact that Jimin ended up somebody’s plaything, a doll not worthy of freedom but he was grateful that at least his childhood friend wasn’t dead, at least he wasn’t starving anymore and he wasn’t getting hurt anymore.

“I’ll figure it out on my own, don’t want to get you in trouble with Namjoon.”

“Daddy won’t know it was me that told you. He doesn’t know I know so much about so many things.”

“That’s because he underestimates you.”

“No, he just wants to protect me.”

Taehyung sighs and doesn’t utter another word on the matter because he doesn’t want to upset Jimin. Poor Jimin that had fallen in love with the only man that treated him half decent, a cold blooded mobster and was beyond obsessed with him.

“How have you been, Tae? How’s Seokjin treating you?”

“Like the dirt on the sole of his boots. He’s a monster, Chimminie, just this morning he butchered a kid on his dining table.”

“I know…They dumped the body on daddy’s front steps… I…saw it, Taetae, it was gruesome.”

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Chim …”

“I don’t want that to happen to you.”

Taehyung didn’t have the heart to tell Jimin that on most days he envies the people whose lives Jin ends because Jin would never do that to him. He’d continue on torturing him, bringing him on the brink of despair but never kill him, never even give him the option of dying. Taehyung had tried once, opening his wrists and hoping to find a better world on the other side of the veil but Jin had found him and brought the best doctors and nursed him back to life and full health. Just to brutally beat him close to the edge of darkness once more for the audacity of believing his life was his own and he could do what he pleased with it, even throw it away.

“Don’t worry about me, Jiminie, I’m basically immortal.”

Jimin laughed and Taehyung smiled.

“Are you working tonight?”

“Yeah. Both the pole and some clients. Tomorrow too.”

“I’ll come visit you tomorrow.”

“Chim, you can’t. You know that.”

“Daddy makes this guy look after me sometimes and I think he likes me or something. I can make him sneak me out for a couple of hours, no problem. I really wanna see you, Taetae, I miss you!”

“I wanna see you too but it’s too risky!”

“It’ll be fine. Trust me! I gotta go now but we’ll see each other soon! Bye, Taetae, bye! Chuu!”


The Sugar Glider is Kim Seokjin’s biggest and best nightclub but honestly Taehyung can’t explain why since to him it at had always looked like a huge cave lined with speakers and strobe lights. It’s always too hot inside, the circular stages where the strippers were supposed to perform were too small and too low, low enough for people to reach out despite the no touching rule. To him it looked and felt like any other strip joint if not for the constant exchange of money and drugs and sex and the regular flow of affluent, important clients.

Taehyung had just finished spraying the soles of his high heels with hairspray, a trick that Jimin taught him ages ago so that he wouldn’t slip on the glassy surface of the stage and was in the middle of carefully putting on his falsies when a knock on the door distracted him.

“Fuck. What is it? I’m not on for another 20 minutes.”

“Client. I’ll have Hyojong switch with you.”

“What do you mean “client”? I only have an appointment three hours from now!”

“Look, I don’t make the rules, princess, the man paid extra to have you now so he’ll have you now. Now quit your bitching or else I’ll tell Master Kim that you’re acting up again!”

Taehyung bit back his next comment which consisted mostly of profanity and just gestured to bring the client in. He hadn’t even tidied up his small dressing room but honestly he couldn’t care less, if the dude wanted a quickie then he wouldn’t care for décor.

 He recognized the man as the district attorney as soon as he had walked in despite his disheveled appearance and jittery gestures. Taehyung strutted up to him, he was only wearing his high heels, a pair of tangas that were basically three strings and a piece of cloth the size of a leaf and his silky robe that made him feel like a diva despite the circumstance. He greeted him politely, told him to get comfortable on the small bed that was cramping the room and offered him a glass of whiskey he himself wasn’t allowed to touch. The man sat on the edge of the bed, refused the drink and began unzipping his pants and pulling them down, underwear and all down to his knees.

“Just suck my dick, I don’t want anything else.”

“Ah, Sir, but last time you were here you said you get better blowjobs at home and demanded a refund.”

“Yeah, well, I’m giving you a second chance. Get to sucking already.”

 Taehyung dropped to his knees and tried not to flinch at the pain that shot up his legs as soon as he had made contact with the hard floor. He had still not fully recovered from the previous night but he didn’t have the time to dwell on that now. He licked his lips seductively and began caressing the man’s length, moaning wantonly, licking from base to tip and plunging his tongue into the slit as one of his hands jerked the cock in a steady rhythm while the other cupped the balls and massaged them.

“I’m so happy you’re letting me do this, Taehyung whispered, rubbing his soft cheek against the hard member. Yours is my favorite cock ever, the best I ever had. Every time you leave I jerk off to the memory of it … I’m gonna make you feel real good, I promise. I want you to give me every last drop of cum, fuck my throat til I can’t breathe … ”

Taehyung kissed up the attorney’s entire length before opening his mouth and taking him all in in one go. He began at a steady pace and increased his speed gradually as the man above him started grunting in pleasure. Taehyung bobbed his head while holding onto the base of the cock and he was getting progressively dizzier until eventually a rough hand grabbed his hair and yanked him off.

“Are you really that desperate for my cock, slut?”

“Yeah, please, Sir, let me have it! Please, I’ll be so good for you, I promise …”

The attorney pulled on Taehyung’s hair once more forcefully enough to make tears spring from his eyes. He spat on Taehyung’s cheek and called him filthy then shoved his cock down his throat, sitting up a bit from the edge of the bed, keeping the younger’s head in place as he began roughly fucking him. Taehyung could feel his throat constrict against the cock as he was struggling to breathe around it. This apparently pleased his client as loud moans were filling the room along with the sloppy sounds of saliva mixing with precum.

Taehyung hated crooked dicks, they also left him with a sore throat far worse than the other ones but he was grateful for the attorney’s below average length and girth. It was uncomfortable, both the position and the violent pistoning but he had had worse, far worse. He pushed his thumb into his left hand’s palm and waited patiently for the man to finish using him like a cock sleeve. From where he stood he could eye the clock on the wall and he figured that they had been going at it for roughly fifteen minutes. It shouldn’t be long now. Taehyung tried moaning but it came out as a gargle. Nonetheless the man found it hot and soon enough he was announcing his orgasm through the repetitive demand that he take it, take it, take it. Taehyung did, he always did, even though he felt like vomiting at the disgusting taste of cum of a man that smoked and drank too much coffee. At least he came straight down his throat and not in his mouth, at least he didn’t make him put on a show and drink the cum from a glass or something like most of his other clients.

The attorney let go of his hair and slumped back on the bed after he was done, lighting himself a cigarette even though he never asked for permission to smoke. Not that Taehyung was in any position to refuse him.

“How was that, slut? Satisfied?”

“Mmm, it was so good, Sir, I want more! Could you use my mouth again, please? Or I could open myself up while you smoke and you can fuck my cunt …”

“You’re a really sick bitch, you know that? No thanks, I had my fill. Best blowjob in a long while.”

“I’m so happy to hear you enjoyed it. You can come back anytime, Sir, I love sucking your cock so much!”

“Well then you’ll be happy to hear I’ll be visiting more often. The wife … she … left.”


“Yeah, left. Are you deaf as well as stupid? She’s gone. So from now on I’ll come to you to warm my cock. At least you can’t threaten me with child support!”

The man laughed and Taehyung giggled along. He didn’t get up from the floor despite the cramp in his left leg. He needed to look as submissive as possible, as inviting and open as possible. The attorney got up, fastening his trousers and putting out his cigarette on the edge of Taehyung’s vanity. Taehyung bit the inside of his cheek and continued smiling.

“But I’m never buying drugs from you guys again. You can tell your owner that for me. Tell him to stick to prostitutes and bars, his merch is shit and gives you bad trips.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Sir, it breaks my heart to know you had a bad experience because of our services. Please, let us make it up to you. We can offer you a few grams from a different batch free of charge, see if you like it better.”

“Nah, I don’t trust your shit anymore, I’d rather take my business to Kwon’s, he’s been in the drug game longer than either of the Kims and knows his stuff better.”

“Ah, Sir, please don’t do that. Master Kim would be really displeased. Please, let me make it better.”

“Yeah, and what could you offer me? You’re just a cum dump.”

“Did your wife take your son with her? When she…left.”

The attorney froze, something like a cold panic flooding his system at Taehyung’s words. He turned to face the boy that was still on his knees on the floor yet staring him down with a gaze that felt like a dagger. Did he know? How could he know? He was just some slut for hire.

“No … he’s still …”

“But she could have, right? Taken him with her.”

Taehyung finally got up from the floor, a bit unsteady yet determined. He opened a drawer on his vanity, pulled out a tablet and began clicking away, half paying attention to the man in front of him that seemed seconds away from a panic attack.

“Min Yoongi is a very efficient man but often times I feel like his talents are wasted working for someone like Kim Namjoon. You see, Kim Namjoon handles a lot of things, cleans up a lot of messes but there are just some things he refuses to touch. Drugs is one of them, children another … But Master Kim, well, Master Kim believes that families should stay together, that mothers should stay with their children. If one goes, so should the other. You wouldn’t want your son to be away from his mother, right, Sir? Especially since you’re such a busy man, raising a child takes a lot of time and money … I could help you, if you wanted me to.”

“You could …?”

“Of course. I’ll even throw in a discount. We’d hate to lose you as a client.”

Taehyung smiled and the man felt shivers run down his spine. He randomly remembered his grandmother in Japan and the legend she used to tell him as a child about the kitsune and he could have sworn that in the low lighting of the small room Taehyung’s features looked just like those of a fox. He was about to make a deal with a demon and he wouldn’t have been surprised to see in the shadows behind the boy the shape of pointy ears and nine fluffy tails. He left the nightclub terrorized but at the same time relieved, screaming on the streets like a madman.

Taehyung fixed his make-up and finished putting on his outfit. He felt like dying once more, he felt like he deserved all the torments hell awaited him with. To put his mind at rest, to be able to get on the pole and seduce the drunk audience of the night, to be able to keep on existing Taehyung measured half a teaspoon of white powder and dissolved it in a tall glass of water which he downed as he dialed the number of the only man he ever called when he was on the edge of despair.

“Master Kim … “

“Hmm, what is it doll? Why are you calling?”

“I need…”

Tears pricked his eyes and were treating to spill, ruining his makeup once more. He breathed in deeply, hands shaking and clutching the phone.

“What do you need?”

“You whip, master, I need your whip …”

Chapter Text

Jimin woke up five minutes before his alarm rung and that made him feel pretty good about himself. He was well rested and looking forward to the day more than ever because today he had plans of meeting up with his childhood friend and the trip there will be an adventure in itself.

Like clockwork Jimin began going through his morning routine with ease. He exercised first, half an hour of intense cardio followed by twenty minutes of yoga and ten of relaxing meditation. Then he showered, making sure to exfoliate properly and then moisturize with baby oil and shea butter. He put on an audio book while he brushed his hair and did his makeup. He chose to wear a loose dusty pink croptop and white highwaisted jeans. It took him longer to pick out accessories but eventually went for feather shaped silver earrings with a matching necklace. Next he stepped into the kitchen and checked the list his daddy left him on the fridge door pinned with magnets. It was Thursday and he was supposed to have fruit salad for breakfast and chicken breast with vegetables for lunch. He quickly did the math and figured that he should be home by one in the afternoon which meant that the meat had plenty of time to thaw if he took it out of the freezer now. Normally he’d just call the chef and have his lunch delivered but in his boredom Jimin taught himself how to cook and had found great joy in preparing his own meals. He switched from his audiobook to language lessons. He was on week 14 of learning Japanese, going through grammar and pronunciation as he was fixing his breakfast every morning. He timed himself perfectly as always and finished making the fruit salad just as the lesson was ending. He happily wished himself itadakimasu and dug in. His daddy forbade him from watching TV or anything while he ate so he focused on his food, savoring each bite of every ripe fruit. When he was done he placed the bowl and cutlery in the dishwasher and took out the chicken breast from the freezer. Jimin checked the clock: 8 30 am. He knew a meeting was supposed to begin at 9 30 which meant that his daddy would be home any minute now to freshen up and change clothes. This gave him more or less 20 minutes to convince the man to let him leave the house for the day.

8 35 and Namjoon walks in, bags under his eyes from the long night of partying at the casino but a content look upon his face. His tie was undone, hanging loosely from his neck, shirt unbuttoned and hair a bit messy, Jimin could still taste the expensive whiskey on his tongue as he kissed him deeply, welcoming him home by pressing his entire body against the taller’s frame. Namjoon eventually broke the kiss, leaving Jimin to blindly chase his lips for a moment.

“Someone missed me.”

“I missed you so much, daddy! I didn’t sleep well at all! The bed was so empty and big without you …”

“You’ll have me home tonight, sugar. I’m so tired I’m gonna sleep like a rock.”

Namjoon pulled away, moving towards the bathroom, discarding his clothes in a manner similar to Jimin’s, littering the entire floor. He turned on the shower and promptly stepped in realizing that he had very little time to waste before having to leave for the business meeting. Jimin gathered the clothes and sorted them, throwing some in the hamper and folding the others and putting them away. He quickly went into the kitchen after that and worked the complicated espresso machine like a pro to have Namjoon’s coffee ready just as the man walked out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist and silver hair dripping.

“Coffee, daddy.”

“Thank you, baby.”

Namjoon hummed satisfied as he tasted the flavorful coffee prepared just like he liked. He noticed Jimin biting his lower lip and swiftly moved to cup his cheek and stop him.

“Don’t do that, baby, you’ll hurt yourself. What’s wrong? I feel like you want to tell me something.”

“It’s nothing, daddy …” Jimin pouts and lowers his eyes, waiting for the man to ask him again.

“Minnie, c’mon, tell me what it is.”

“No, daddy, you already give me so much and I hardly give you anything in return, I couldn’t possibly ask for more from you!” Jimin says and grabs the hand that was cupping his face kissing the palm reverently. 

“Nonsense, you give me so much love, Minnie, so much love that nobody else in this entire world would give me. Ask for whatever you want, baby, anything at all.”

Hearing this Jimin beams and hugs Namjoon tightly, nuzzling at his chest and kissing the spot where he knows his heart is. The older melts at the innocent gesture and places his cup on the counter, hugging his baby back just as tightly, making him giggle happily. Eventually the blond speaks.

“I’m really lonely without you, daddy. I know you have a lot of important work to do and I understand I have to wait until you have time for me but the house is so silent I can only hear my thoughts. I was thinking that …. Maybe I’d feel less lonely if… well… If I had a pet.”

Namjoon chuckles, a deep pleasant rumble that soothes Jimin whenever he hears it.

“Is that what my baby was afraid to ask for? You’re so silly, Minnie. C’mon petal, bring daddy his phone.”

The small  one complies, bouncing a little as he sprints to find the phone and fetch it for him. Namjoon finishes his coffee and calls Yoongi as Jimin watches him with big, hopeful eyes.

“ Morning, Yoons. No, the meeting is still at 9 30 but don’t worry about it, I can handle it on my own. Listen, skip the coffee, you can have some later, I need you to come to the penthouse right now. Yeah, right now. I need you to take Jimin shopping today. What do you mean you don’t babysit? Listen, Min, you’ll do whatever the fuck I tell you to do. That’s why you’re my right hand man, because I can count on you with whatever task needs to be done. I can’t trust anybody else with my Minnie so be here in 15.”

Jimin was bouncing excitedly as he kept saying thank you over and over again. Namjoon kissed the top of his head and moved to the bedroom to get dressed. Yoongi arrived 10 minutes later, muttering something about a speeding ticket.


Half an hour after Namjoon left, Jimin found himself engaged in an intense stare down with the man he knew to be his daddy’s second in command. He never truly cared to get a good look at him before even though he had been a constant presence for the past few years as he worked up the ranks to his current position. Jimin found him pretty, he liked the fact that they were almost the same height and he found his milky skin and dark hair very doll like and cute. He knew that despite this delicate appearance the man was a precise and efficient killer, a smart businessman and cunning negotiator. It would be a mistake to underestimate him. He had made him a big mug of coffee and convinced him to have a seat on the plush armchair in the living room but despite this the man didn’t seem to unwind even in the slightest.

“Your name’s Yoongi, right? Min Yoongi?”


“My daddy trusts you a lot.”

“You don’t have to call him daddy when he’s not around you know.”

“I love calling him that. Does it bother you?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Do you want me to call you daddy?”

Yoongi’s breathe hitched at that and he carefully placed the mug on the coffee table, least he ruin another pair of pants. Where was all this coming from? Jimin could tell he touched a nerve.

“I’ll call you daddy if you call me baby.”

“I’m not playing this game, Jimin.”

“It’s not a game though. But you’re right, I shouldn’t call you that, I only have one daddy after all. How old are you, Yoongi? You’re older than me right? That means I can call you oppa.”

“Jimin …”

“Oppa, I want to make a deal with you.”

Jimin seats himself opposite Yoongi on the sofa, back resting against the pillows, legs spread wide, too short to touch the floor.


Yoongi stands up unsure and walks the few steps until he closes the distance between them. The blond tugs on his arms and pulls him down, manhandling him with more strength than Yoongi ever expected until he finds himself between the younger’s legs, back to his chest, Jimin resting his chin on his shoulder.

“Oppa, you know how daddy doesn’t let me out unsupervised … I have this friend, he’s my best friend, my only friend and I miss him so much and I wanna see him … Oppa, could you take me to see my friend? Just for a couple of hours. Nobody has to know and I promise I’ll give you something you want in return.”

Yoongi could feel Jimin’s breath on his neck and it sent shivers through his entire body. He had never been so close to the boy before, he was literally being back hugged by him and his mind was swimming with happiness and at the same time barely contained lust. Yet he was still painfully aware of the implications of going behind Namjoon’s back.

“It’s too dangerous, Jimin …”

“Oppa…call me baby.”

“Jimin, listen to me …”

Yoongi gasped and Jimin could feel him shiver as his hands travelled down his belly to his crotch, palming him through the cloth and feeling the fastly growing hard-on. He pressed his palm down and Yoongi bit his lip, desperately trying to stifle the moans that were threatening to come out of his mouth. The younger was relentless though, continuing to rub with one hand while the other deftly unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers.

“No, don’t, we can’t touch …”

“The rule says nobody can touch me. I can do whatever I want.”

Yoongi didn’t know what to do with his hands, afraid to place them anywhere on the boy so he awkwardly balled his fists and crumpled his shirt with a desperate grip. Jimin began nibbling at Yoongi’s ear and then licking the shell, breathing hotly against it, making the brunet finally give in and spill out wonton moans and pants. His hands pulled his trousers down a little and toyed with the elastic band of his underwear.

“ I can touch you, oppa. Do you want me to?”

“Fuck… yes …”

“Yes what?”

“Touch me, baby, fuck, do whatever you want …”

“Oppa’s so needy. Mmmm, and so, so hard.”

Jimin gripped him through the fabric and gave him a few tantalizing pumps before ducking his head and gently nipping Yoongi’s neck. This sent new, stronger shivers through the older’s body and he unconsciously bared his neck more, giving Jimin access to properly bite down and mark him. 

“God, baby, what are you doing to me …”

Jimin noticed how Yoongi’s length was twitching, a wet patch having formed around the head where he was leaking heavily with precum and for a moment he feared that he might cum untouched so he finally pulled the elastic band down, freeing the rock hard member and licking his lips at the delicious sight. His hand couldn’t fully grip its girth and he loved how the veiny shaft felt against his small palm as he worked it up and down the considerable length. It wasn’t as big as his daddy’s but it was impressive nonetheless. Yoongi watched through hooded, lust heavy lids as the love of his life was touching him. He saw that Jimin’s nails were colored a pretty opalescent shade and this was somehow arousing to him, making him leak more and throb almost painfully hard. He was so on edge he could scream.

“You’re so big, oppa.”

“Baby, baby please touch me more, fuck, I feel like I’ll go crazy if you don’t …”

Jimin shifted, attaching himself even closer to Yoongi’s back as he reached with his other hand as well, intertwining his fingers as tightly as he could around the brunet’s cock and jerking him off from root to tip. The man was so wet every movement came with an obscene squelching sound. He was breathless, his mind blank, blinded with pleasure.

“Oppa … Is it good? “

“ So good, baby, I’m so close …”

“I’ve never touched anybody like this before … I’ve only ever had daddy and he never lets me … Ah, oppa, you really like this, don’t you? I’m making you fall apart … “

“Yeah, baby … Shit, I’m gonna cum! Baby, please, please let me cum! Please!”

“Cum for me, let me see you … “

Yoongi cums with a scream and Jimin can’t help but bite down on the exposed neck in front of him. He can feel the man in his arms spasm through his orgasm, broken cries spilling from his lips with each thick rope he shoots into the cupped hands that were ready to catch every drop like the words of a confession. When they detached Yoongi was still dazed, his hands cramped and painful as he tried to move them and wipe the tears that had fallen uncontrollably and Jimin eyed his dirty hands with curiosity and fear before he brought them to his lips and licked them clean.

“Jiminie …”

“I’ve never tasted another man before …”

“Why did you…”

“Can we go now? Can you take me to my friend?”

The car ride was tensely silent. Jimin tried reading Yoongi’s state of mind but the man had steeled his expression into professional detachment. He feared that he might had offended him by refusing to discuss what had just transgressed between them, he feared that he might feel used, he feared that his feelings ran deeper than lust. Jimin didn’t know what the best course of action might be. He couldn’t encourage Yoongi, it would be too dangerous for both of them but at the same time he couldn’t risk turning his daddy’s second in command into his enemy.

All his worries however seemed to melt away as they drove further into the other Kim’s part of town, into the back alleys and dark streets and eventually stopped in front of a decrepit old building where he would find Taehyung, right on the second floor, he could see his kitchen window open and smell the delicious scent of pork bulgogi being cooked.

“You have one hour. I’ll go pick up a pet in the meantime. Do not leave this building until I return for you.”

Jimin nodded and scurried out of the car, basically running into the building and flying up the stairs, pounding on the familiar chipped red door. He began giggling the second he heard the familiar cadence of steps and flung himself into Taehyung’s arms as soon as the door opened enough.

They hugged and hugged even as Jimin clumsily flung his shoes off and stayed embraced even as Taehyung checked on the food and set the table for two. They detached themselves when the meal was ready but talked more than ate and laughed more than talked.

Jimin had known Taehyung his entire life. He could not remember ever having parents but he could always recall his Taetae’s toddler face smiling at him and handing him his only piece of candy, sneaking into bed with him to keep him warm, giving him his socks that had no holes in them, holding his hand while he cried. They grew up in an orphanage, dirt poor and miserable, their friendship the only thing that got them through it all. They had been bought by the then Bang clan and used as messengers and delivery boys until the two Kims broke the familia apart and began their feud. Amidst the chaos that came with a mobster civil war Jimin found himself under the overprotective wing of the younger Kim whereas Taehyung drifted into the older’s possession.

Jimin knew that his friend had had a rough night, he knew that he would never wear long sleeved turtlenecks on a regular day but he only had one hour and he didn’t want to spend it making the boy cry by questioning what had happened. Instead he confessed his earlier deeds and sought some advice.

Taehyung was surprised by the story and chewed carefully while thinking things over, eventually replying cautiously:

“Do you like Min Yoongi?”

“I don’t know… I mean, I don’t even know him. I like how he makes me feel. Today was … I don’t know how to describe it, Tae, it was like electricity, I felt like jumping out of my skin. But if daddy ever finds out …”

“He won’t. You won’t utter a word about it and I’m sure Min won’t either. But this can’t happen again, Chimchim, it’s too risky. Visiting me is not worth it. I’ll find a way for us to keep in touch but please, you’ve gotta promise : no more reckless actions. Ok?”

“Okay …”

He crossed his fingers under the table. Nothing was gonna keep him away from his friend, he refused to lose him.

Yoongi came one hour later on the dot. Jimin was ready to go, waiting in front of the building under Taehyung’s watchful gaze from the window above. He got in, waving goodbye. As soon as he fastened his seatbelt Yoongi planted something that looked very much like a big jar in his lap. 

“What did you get me? A fish?”

“A butterfly. Well, a chrysalis to be exact. It will be a butterfly in around 3 to 5 weeks.”

“What … the … fuck …”

Yoongi bursted into laughter and Jimin couldn’t help giggling along at the sight of the man’s happy face. He never saw him smile before let alone laugh out loud.

“What’s so funny?!”

“I never heard you swear before. Sorry, it just sounds so weird coming from you.”

“Weird? You know what’s weird?! Buying someone an insect and calling it a pet!”

They didn’t talk about the incident after all. Yoongi drove Jimin back home and helped him find a good spot for the terrarium, some place with lots of sunlight, and explained how he was supposed to just spray some water inside once a day. He had no idea what type of butterfly would emerge but Jimin found it exciting that way.

The clock said half past one and the meat he had set to thaw was ready to be cooked. Jimin asked Yoongi to stay for lunch but the brunet refused, claiming he had business to attend to.

“Will you come again?”

“If the boss orders me to.”

“What if I ask you to?”

“You can’t, Jimin. You know that … You belong to him.”

“Yeah but … You could belong to me.”

Yoongi flinched at those words but said nothing. He gestured his good bye and the door clicked noisily behind him. It was dead silent in the penthouse again.

Jimin listened to the rest of the audiobook while he cooked and ate and went through with his daily chores. He realized that he hadn’t paid much attention and didn’t quite understand the ending so he ordered a physical copy of the book online, along with another one about raising butterflies. When he ran out of things to do he sat down and began practicing his kanji, carefully lettering a few words over and over until he got used to the strokes. He hadn’t realized until he was done that he wrote love fifteen times. He crumpled the paper and trashed it and decided to make himself some tea while watching the sunset.

At 7 Namjoon returned, exhausted but happy to be done with work for the day. He asked Jimin about his new pet, he had been ready to be greeted by some excited puppy or fluffy kitten but he was speechless upon being presented with the tiny immobile chrysalis that dangled like a dew drop from a tiny twig.

“ It was Yoongi’s idea …”

“You really shouldn’t listen too much to Yoongi, he’s a pretty weird dude. Do you like it at least?”

“Yeah. I know it doesn’t look like much now but it’ll become a beautiful butterfly in a few weeks.”

“And then it’ll die. I hope you won’t be having a crying fit over it when it does happen.”

“I won’t, daddy, don’t worry!”


When Namjoon made love to him that night Jimin’s mind wandered for the first time ever. He was usually so focused on his daddy, so hyper aware of every little thing, eager and desperate to please but now his mind was elsewhere and for the first time the feeling of being filled to the brim wasn’t enough, the heated kisses weren’t hot enough, the large hands holding him were not tight enough. He mewled and pulled at Namjoon’s locks making the man still his thrusts and look at him worriedly.

“What’s wrong, baby? Does something hurt?”

“ I just … Daddy, you can go harder, I want it harder …”

“Hush, baby, daddy knows best. Put your hands up, petal, keep them there, ok?”

Jimin couldn’t cum that night. Namjoon became worried and ordered him to rest the next day. Jimin didn’t sleep at all for the first time in years.

Chapter Text

Jungkook swaggers into the club with the type of confidence only an eighteen-year-old has. His smirk tells people that yeah, he knows he shouldn’t be there but that he dares you to id him, dares you to try kicking him out. He swiftly pulls a stray lock of hair out of his eyes and he catches the thirsty glances of the group of women by the bar and he feels undefeatable. He’s tall and very well built, he buys t-shirts that are a little too small for him to better hint at what’s under them, he got his ears and brow pierced and he proudly wears a Rolex on his wrist even though it doesn’t go with the outfit. It doesn’t matter that the watch was stolen, so was his phone, it doesn’t matter that he still has a very boyish face, his muscles make up enough for it and it surely doesn’t matter that despite his self-assurance and ease he is still technically a nobody, the youngest of a middle class family, some jock that isn’t even the team’s star, a fresh drop out and the lowest tier drug seller on some street corner even a gps couldn’t find.

He rests on the bar, propped on an elbow and orders whiskey even though he hates both the taste and the burn, and watches the strippers, follows the curves and lines of legs and waists, tries to assess which one is more skilled, which one hangs more beautifully, twirls more enticingly and his eyes fall on the one in the middle: skinny flat chested but extremely seductive. He watches for a while but eventually he remembers he came here for a reason.

“I’m looking for one of your workers, the one that goes by the name of V. I wanna … try her services. Where can I find her?” he asks the bartender, leaning in to shout his question over the thrumming noise of the base.

“Up on the poll. You sure you can afford V, kid? That’s Master Kim’s bitch, you know. Costs a fortune.” comes the snarky reply but Jungkook was ready for it, pulling a thick roll of bills out of his pocket and showing it to the man.

“7 grand for a blowjob, I know. Don’t worry, I got the money. So is it a deal or do I have to take care of this boner by myself?”

The bartender scoffs and gestures for him to follow. He guides Jungkook behind the bar into a short, dark corridor and then into a small, cramped dressing room, tells him to seat somewhere, V will be there in a few minutes.

Jungkook relaxes on the big chair in front of the vanity and notices the mirror on the now closed door. He can see himself fully in it and he spreads his legs, relaxing his posture, trying to look as cool as possible. Suddenly the idea comes to mind that he’d love to see himself getting blown and he decides not to move from the chair. V comes strutting in after five minutes or so.

“Fuck, you’re a dude!”

The one called V raises an eyebrow at him, confused, as if to ask what did you expect? He was still incredibly beautiful and feminine, especially with those long, spidery legs that looked amazing in high stripper heels and the lacy garterbelts and stockings. What didn’t look too beautiful were the countless dark bruises that littered the dainty body. He wore body glitter all over and the combination reminded Jungkook of galaxies but in a very morbid way.

“If that makes you uncomfortable I can call in one of the girls. Would cost you less too.”

Damn that deep baritone and the snark. Jungkook was taken aback for a few moments but quickly regained his composure.

“Nah, they say you’re the best and I only want the best.”

“Can you afford the best?”

This again. Jungkook pulls out his wad of cash and throws it in V’s direction. The stripper catches it with one hand, looks at it for a bit and places it on the vanity.

“I don’t know who you stole that cash from but I don’t want any problems. If anybody comes in here asking I’ll point them in your direction.”

“Is that mouth of yours good at anything other than yapping?”

V just smirks and takes a few steps not breaking eye contact even when he drops to his knees and begins working open the tight pair of jeans. Jungkook’s cock springs free just moments later and he feels really good about himself when he sees the worker’s eyes go wide at the sight of his impressive length.

“Think you can handle all that?”

“I’ve handled worse.”

Jungkook had just about enough of the sass and he grabs a fistful of hair, yanking the boy harshly, making him groan in pain.

“I don’t wanna hear another word from you, you cunt. Just stay still and take my cock like you were meant to. And don’t even think about touching yourself, I don’t need any more reminders that I’m putting my cock in some faggot’s cum dump mouth.”

He doesn’t give V the chance to even take a deep breath before plunging straight past his lips, deep down into his throat. Jungkook doesn’t stop when he feels the boy constricting against his length, gagging or gargling because of his impending need to throw up, he just fucks into him carelessly, using him like a toy. He watches himself doing so just like he planned, takes in the small, slender form crumpled at his feet, the knobby spine jutting from the small back covered in bruises and cuts and he moans at the contrast with his strong, full figure above him. Power turns him on, control makes him hard and leaking, this is what Jungkook likes best, having people on their knees for him, using them as he pleases. V’s hands grip his thighs and scratch him. He laughs.

“What’s wrong, bitch? Thought you handled bigger. Quit squirming, I know you like being treated like this, don’t think I don’t know who beat you black and blue, don’t think I don’t know who you are, Kim Seokjin’s cum rag. And now you’ll be mine.”

Jungkook pulls the boy off his cock with an obscene pop and watches as he gasps for air, lips swollen and spit slick, makeup running down his cheeks in black streaks. He loves knowing that he did this, that he ruined him so he begins pumping himself fast and hard with one hand while still keeping a vice like grip on the older’s hair with the other.

“Beg for my cum, do it!”

“Fuck … please, can I have your cum? Please, please … cum in my mouth, I need it so badly, please …”

“Look at me!”

When V looks him straight in the eyes Jungkook catches a glint of defiance in the otherwise submissive gaze, something like an amber ready to set alight anger and disgust. He hates that look so when he feels himself right on the verge of cumming he aims and blows his load straight into V’s eyes. The boy recoils, hands immediately flying to clean himself as he gasps in pain and discomfort. Jungkook slumps back in the chair, laughing at the other’s predicament.

“I honestly have no idea why Seokjin keeps you around, you’re obviously not worth the price. Perhaps he has a thing for slumming it …”

“Don’t you dare talk shit about Master Kim!”

“Master? Wow, he trained you well, faggot, bet he keeps you on a leash too, doesn’t he? What else is he to do with a bitch in heat?”

“ Get out! Get the fuck out!”

Jungkook is fast to get up and curl his fingers around V’s delicate neck, slamming him against the edge of the vanity that digs into his back and makes him scream out in pain. He was going to have none of it, Jungkook wasn’t the type to give in just because of shouts and screams.

“Shut your whore mouth and listen carefully! I need to speak to your so called master, where can I find him?”

Jungkook sees red when he realizes that the worker began laughing hysterically, laughing at him.

“Master Kim would never bother with someone like you!”

He hits him them, a clean blow with the back of his hand that sends the older one tumbling to the floor where he remains, wincing in pain, cupping his jaw, blood trickling from the lip that got cut in his teeth. Jungkook spits on him too, for good measure before leaving.

“You’ll see me again.” he ominously promises.

Jungkook’s admiration for Kim Seokjin began years back, when he was just another doe eyed freshman in highschool. He had always been an introvert of sorts, awkward around people and a bullying victim throughout his childhood. His father never bothered hiding his disappointment and his mother didn’t help either by constantly comparing him with his outgoing older sibling. The night before the first day of highschool Jungkook cried himself to sleep in anxiety and promised himself to be better, to become someone his family wouldn’t be ashamed of, someone that actually had friends and did well at something at least. He started his first semester in earnest but all his efforts to put himself out there more didn’t seem to have any results. His mother seemed to have resigned herself to the thought that her youngest was simply stupid. Jungkook’s heart shattered when he accidentally heard the confession while their parents were discussing one late evening after dinner. The following week he signed up for swimming, basket and karate. Deep down he had this inkling that his mother was right and since he too had settled on the idea that he was not very bright then he might as well be good at sports, become an athlete. This earned him a few friends and he began going out with them more and more often. However he still couldn’t shake that air of inadequacy, he couldn’t rise above the title of the group’s weirdo. Then it happened, over the winter break.

It was a slow day and Jungkook was lazying around to his parents discontent, watching whatever was on tv absentmindedly. All of a sudden whatever nature show he was half following got interrupted by breaking news about the internal war that erupted between two mafia lords, shaking the nation would an unprecedented wave of crime. For the next few days all news channels were reporting round the clock about the ongoing violence and Jungkook found himself captivated by the events. They ran a special on Kim Seokjin, former heir to the underworld Bang clan, a mafia family so dangerous and influential that they nicknamed its prince the Carlo Gambino of Seoul. Jungkook was hooked. Kim Seokjin was young and gorgeous and ruthless and everything he aspired to be. Not even 25 years old and he was terrorizing an entire country because someone had pissed him off.

Suddenly he could see the future clearly. He wanted to become someone like Kim Seokjin, he wanted to be feared and respected and taken seriously, he wanted to be someone others lusted over and obeyed. The path of his brother was one, the one his parents and everyone around him had taken was narrow and safe and made for small people. Jeon Jungkook refused to stay small any longer.

It took him two years to get buff, two years to gain enough strength in his body so that he could take others on and make them kneel. He taught himself to wield a knife and practiced on whatever crossed his path, animals, homeless people, drunkards. His family despised him and he tore himself away from them like he was ripping a bandaid from a now healed wound. In spring of his last year of highschool he began selling drugs on behalf of the upper Kim clan. By summer he had dropped out and ran away from home.

 Now at the beginning of September Jungkook finds himself in China, having spent all his savings from drug selling and pickpocketing on the plane ticket, betting everything on a crazy plan and one shot chance to make Kim Seokjin aware of his existence and talents. He figured the mafia boss was hard to impress, a man like him having likely seen it all and done it all too, but he also thought that someone like Seokjin needed a right hand man. Afterall, his rival had a second in command, why shouldn’t he? Perhaps he hadn’t found the right man yet and Jungkook was determined to prove himself that man.

That’s why he had hunted down Tao, separated the bastard’s head from his torso with a cheap hunting knife he had bought off a hobo in Hong Kong’s main train station and was now trying to carve his name as neatly as possible into the torso of the former gunrunner.

Chapter Text

Hoseok pulled out the hip flask from his jacket’s inner pocket and no very subtly poured vodka into his coffee. The officer in the booth across gave him a scandalized look but he merely raised his eyebrow in challenge and was promptly left to his own devices. Yeah, he drinks while on duty, he drinks at his desk when he has too many reports to write and he drinks during stakeouts too but he wouldn’t call it a drinking problem, more like a coping mechanism. Some smoke, Hoseok drinks. Well he smokes too but only as a pastime.

“Jung, the Sup wants you in his office!”

Hoseok groans and gulps down half of the vodka-coffee mix from his mug before getting up and heading towards the only door that is constantly shut in the entire department. Senior Superintendent Choi Siwon reads the golden plaque and Hoseok feels the need to pull on his shirt and jacket a little before knocking and entering.

“You asked for me, Sir?”

“Jung, have a seat.”

He had seen the superintendent before of course, always a stoic look on his face but always amiable too, the type of man that is given as an example to youngsters, a role model and quite frankly the opposite of Hoseok.

“How long have you been an officer for?”

“Four years, Sir.”

“And before that?”

Hoseok frowns but is met with a patient smile. Something wasn’t right.

“As you well know, Sir, I was a SWAT agent.”

“An elite SWAT agent, Jung, no need to be modest. You were top of the class back at the academy and then second best during your training years. First year in the field and you were already assigned to a top profile case on a national security level. And now you’re a low grade officer that I hear has asked for a transfer to Gwangju.”

“With all due respect, can I ask why you have called me to your office, Sir?”

“Because I’m denying your transfer. Because I can’t watch any longer an elite agent rot away patrolling parks and parking lots.”

Hoseok pulls out his badge and angrily tosses it on the superintendent’s desk. It lands noisily between them, a loud act of defiance.

“If you wanted to fire me you could have just sent a note. I don’t need to hear all this.”

“Yes you do and you better not dare move another muscle.”

Ah, the infamous Choi Siwon death glare, so fiery and fierce and in such contrast with the cold, even tone of his words. Hoseok tenses in his seat, fisting his hands tightly, willing himself to not make a scene.

“Four years ago you worked on the most dangerous infiltration mission this department had ever attempted. You supervised all operations while your partner went undercover to take down the Kim clans. What happened?”

“You know what happened.” Hoseok hissed, feeling ready to snap.

“I want to hear it from you.”

“What can I tell you that the files can’t? My partner went in, managed to infiltrate the lower Kim clan and began gathering info as a middle rank man in the gun smuggling branch of Kim Namjoon’s crime empire. One year in and we had enough to orchestrate a sting. I send in two SWAT teams, my own people, and we got ambushed. I’d been double crossed by a turn coat. We lost 15 men that day, couldn’t do shit about the smuggling operation, the entire mission was a huge failure, a disgrace to the department and I got a bullet in my shoulder and a medal for my trouble.”

“Your partner … You grew up together, am I right? Went to the same highschool then joined the force together, the only man that ever beat your scores. He’s also the one that put that bullet in your shoulder.”

“He was like a brother to me … Guess anybody can turn.”

“You know he is now Kim Namjoon’s second in command.”

Hoseok bit the inside of his cheek painfully and he could feel the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. Nothing made his blood boil more than the thought of what had happened four years ago, nothing pained him more than his best friend’s betrayal. He refused to talk about it, refused to even acknowledge it at times, the guilt too heavy on his shoulders, he’d often prefer to drink the thoughts away. Superintendent Choi continues to stare him down as he reaches for the intercom and asks for someone to join them. Hoseok’s gaze is just as unmoving, if this was a battle of wills then he knew he could count on his stubbornness. Yet all of his resolve crumbled when the tiny figure of a young woman came through the door.

Hoseok knew that face despite the years that have gone by, despite her cutting her hair so short it barely reached her shoulders now, despite her wearing a stiff uniform instead of a flowery dress, he could recognize the once little girl anywhere. He sprung to his feet, unsure of what to do other than acknowledge her presence.

“Yoonji …”

“Officer Jung.” she salutes him formally then turns to their chief who salutes her and asks both of them to be seated. 

“So I see you do know each other.”

“I haven’t … I haven’t seen her in years, Sir. Yoonji, you’ve … “

“Joined the force.”

“I was gonna say grown but yeah …” he chuckles awkwardly.

“Father retired a couple of years after the…incident. It was rough, you know. Him being the Senior Superintendent at the time, everything blew up in his face, people accused him of things, called him a dirty cop … He had been a man of the law his entire life, just like grandfather before him and to see it all crumble like that … It destroyed him. My brother brought so much shame to our family. You remember how father felt so responsible for us after mother passed away. He blamed himself for everything.”

“I’m so sorry …”

Yoonji was clutching a thick manila envelope in her lap and Hoseok was eyeing it curiously but didn’t dare interrupt the girl.

“I enlisted as soon as I was able to. Of course father was against it, we fought a lot because of it but I had to. I went through academy with the sole purpose of becoming an officer and bringing my brother to justice.”

Ah, there it was, that fire and thirst for equity that Hoseok has only ever seen in one human before. It almost made him tear up so he stopped looking at Yoonji and turned to his superior.

“I need you to tell me, Jung, from your knowledge and experience, from having been with Min for so long, is there any chance, any chance at all, that he hasn’t turned?”

“What do you mean, Sir?”

Yoonji, as if on cue, placed the envelope in his lap just then. Hoseok picked it confusedly and opened it, skimming quickly through the contents, hands becoming shaky the more he understood what he was looking at.

“This was dropped off on the department’s front steps. Those are lists of both aliases and real names of all of Kim Namjoon’s former middlemen in the gunrunning branch, men we couldn’t pin a single crime on until now. There is also a track record of deals that have been done over the online black market up until early this month. We have information on prices and suppliers. If we coordinate well with the Chinese police we might be able to shut down a few illegal weapons trade routes. There is enough info there to deliver a serious blow to the lower Kim clan’s business.”

“How …”

“This is information only someone of a very high rank could have. I might be wrong but I must ask: is there any chance in hell that Min Yoongi was playing a long con? That the failed sting operation was not because he turned to their side but because of some other events we might not have been aware of?”

Hoseok jumped to his feet making the contents of the envelope spill on the floor. Yoonji gasped, surprised and wanted to reach out to him but stopped when she noticed the tears in the older’s eyes, a man she had never seen cry even once, someone that had been a pillar in her life when she was a child and a dear friend to her brother throughout his youth.

“What are you saying, Sir? That for all these years we have left Yoongi to fend for himself? That we branded him a villain, dragged his good name through the mud, ripped his family to shreds for nothing? Are you saying that I have abandoned my friend, closer to me than anyone in  this world, left him on his own in that snake hole for four fucking years?! “

“Officer Jung …”

Hoseok runs out blindly, slamming doors and shoving people aside, doesn’t stop when he’s being shouted at or ordered, doesn’t even care to hear what is being said to him. Once outside he fumbles with his pockets until he finds the keys to his Hyosung cruiser and speeds off carelessly, chasing the storm in his chest.



He doesn’t recall how long he rode for or how many traffic laws he’d broken but nightfall caught up to him and he could feel exhaustion and sorrow settle heavy inside him like dirt at the bottom of a pond. He stops eventually in front of a building that looks like some gigantic cube, the pink neon lights that spell The Sugar Glider indicating it’s a nightclub. Hoseok parks right out front, letting himself be lured in by the constant thrum of a base and occasional drunken shouts of glee.

A strip joint he registers as soon as he enters, eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness. He doesn’t feel like dancing, he doesn’t feel much like living to be frank so he settles for something that can both distract him and numb him at the same time : drinking heavily by one of the stages.

It doesn’t take long for him to get drunk, he had been drinking throughout the day anyway and despite his high tolerance there’s only so much alcohol one can handle in a single day. His vision blurs at the edges and the music fades to something indistinguishable but pleasant. He keeps his head propped on one hand while the other circles the rim of a now empty shot glass. He doesn’t feel sick, just slightly sleepy and kinda horny. There are many beautiful dancers on the pole, both male and female but he had been staring at one in particular, one that fascinated him in his inebriated state because he couldn’t quite place. He decides he can’t leave without knowing for sure so he reaches out to touch the ankle of the gorgeous glittery creature in front of him. The dancer quickly steps back as if electrocuted and looks down at him through sweaty long bangs and dark full lashes. Hoseok smiles still confused, the stripper bends and lifts his chin with the tip of one long finger. They say something but Hoseok can’t hear so he continues to smile dumbly. The beautiful person drops to their knees and crawls sensually to him and says loudly into his ear:

“What did you want?”

The voice is like velvet and Hoseok shivers, biting his lip.

“Are you even real?” he asks in his stupor.

“Wanna see for yourself?”

The dancer giggles and points to an almost indistinguishable door behind the bar. Hoseok nods that he understood or at least thinks that he did and pushes himself up on unsteady legs, swaying all the way to his destination, stumbling inside like Alice through the looking glass.

It was a small change room with one of those old fashioned vanities and a messy bed. He laughs because it reminds him of highschool and the theater club, he laughs because it seems so funny to him now that he could have become a dancer or an actor instead of a miserable cop that had forsaken his friend for years. He could have been up on some stage, smiling like he used to, his family in the audience besides Yoongi and his sister, applauding and having a good time, what a beautiful fantasy of a road not taken. He could feel heat behind his eyes, the clear threat of tears but luckily he gets interrupted right before bursting into an embarrassing crying fit.  The beautiful dancer walks in.

They are sweaty and glistening, a silk robe thrown on haphazardly to cover the enticing body that had been a feast for dozens of people’s eyes just minutes ago.

“You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“Very.” Hoseok answers honestly.

“I thought so, nobody just smiles like that at me …”

“Why not? You’re beautiful! Or handsome! I don’t know what you are really, sorry…” he laughs like an idiot and has to lean against the back of a chair for support.

“I had a shit day.”

“Me too.” he interrupts and hiccups a few times. The younger chuckles.

“Well then … care to blow some steam together?”

Before he could even consider the answer a pair of lips had attached themselves to his. He could taste vanilla lipbalm and something else just as sweet, something he figures must be the dancer themselves. Hoseok lets himself be kissed, opening up carefully, letting the other dominate the make out session with their much more eager tongue and frantic lips. He moves his hands from the chair to the tiny waist and is almost afraid of gripping it too strongly least the delicate thing breaks in his hold. The other’s hands however are not afraid to explore, roaming up and down his torso, feeling him up. They moan when they get a feeling of the hard abs hidden under the creased shirt and gasp loudly when they get a hold of the rock hard length clothed by rough denim. Hoseok pants at the feeling of being gripped, he hasn’t even realized how horny he truly was until he felt another body pressed to his. This pushes him to grope in return, kneading the small plush ass through the delicate fabric of the robe, making his partner keen and break the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting their lips until it breaks as the younger speaks in a whisper.

“I want to see you naked, I want you sprawled out on my sheets, needy and desperate …”  

They push Hoseok back, shoving him backwards until the back of his knees hit the bed and he falls on his back with a huff. He doesn’t even get a moment to recover from the dizzy spell that overcame him from the sudden movements before impatient hands start fiddling with his belt and zipper. He notices that his partner’s nails are painted a pretty shade of burgundy and shaped like almonds and he smiles at that for no other reason than the fact that he likes the color red in all its shades. Soon enough his jeans are roughly yanked down his legs and he gets a few more touches through the fabric of his boxers before they too are removed swiftly. His cock stands up proudly, leaking and twitching and the realization of what he is doing hits him like a wall of bricks.

“Are you sure? About this, I mean … I’m a stranger, you don’t even know my name.”

“Do you know mine? Do you know who I am?”


“Then let’s not ruin this.”

The reply had a finality to it that Hoseok didn’t know what to do about but his concerns instantly faded from his mind as the head of his cock got engulfed by the softest pair of lips. At first they just stood there, kissing and tasting then they moved lower, tongue twirling maddeningly around his frenulum, making him keen. One of those beautiful hands grabbed him and began pumping, using all the saliva and precum to help it glide smoothly and noisily.

“Look at you, so hard for me … How long have you been like this for? I bet it’s been a while, ever since you saw me on the pole, am I right? You’re soaked, can you hear it? Can you hear how wet I make you?”

Hoseok keens again and unconsciously draws his knees up, spreading them invitingly and he hears a soft chuckle before his cock is engulfed by heat and wetness. He moans loudly, hands flying to the top of the head between his legs, grabbing on soft locks pleading for more. The stripper deepthroats him like its nothing, his length sliding inside all the way and it feels incredible, his mind melts. Hoseok doesn’t even realize when he begins begging, a whispered string of please, please leaving his lips uncontrollably and it works. His partner pulls him almost all the way out before sinking back in until their nose touches the trimmed tuff of hair on his pubic bone. They do so several times, faster and faster, the sound of it obscenely wet but incredibly arousing, Hoseok is lost and so close his thighs begin to shake as his entire body tenses anticipating release. He doesn’t get to cum though, his cock left twitching and glistening with spit in the cool air of the small room, frustration bringing tears to his eyes.

“Not yet, baby boy, I’m not done with you.”

Hoseok raises a brow at the endearment but says nothing about it. He struggles to get his breathing in order and he feels hot all over so he decides to finally take his shirt off, impatiently pulling too hard on it, making a button fly loose. As soon as his chest is exposed his lover crawls on top of him, the silky robe tickling his feverish skin, delicate hands tracing every ridge on his torso, from his v line to his sculpted abs and eventually his perked nipples. He comes to love the manicured fingers even more when they begin pinching and rolling them, sending shivers up and down his body. He feels boneless, alcohol and lust clouding his mind and making him submissive. He would normally be the one on top, always in control, fucking fast and hard, chasing his release and getting the fuck out before his partners even get the chance to find out his age or name. But not tonight, tonight he is too overwhelmed to be in control, too intoxicated to care, he just wants to be taken care of, he just wants somebody to care.

The beautiful lover on top of him begins licking their way down now, tongue flat on his pulse point then pausing to flick over his nipples, continuing south, down his navel and back to his throbbing cock. They kiss it from root to tip almost affectionately then they reach his balls which they also lick and kiss and suck on but don’t linger too much on, going further down  to his perineum and that’s when Hoseok panics. What are they doing? What’s …

“Oh... Oh my god!”

Hoseok has never been rimmed before in his life, heck, he’s never had anyone touch him there before ever. The feeling is indescribable, a touch so wet and intimate, far more intense than a blowjob, he is seeing stars as the hot, wet tongue goes over and over his puckered hole. Soon his partner is using their hands to spread his cheeks and get better access, licking deeper and wetter, tongue pointed and intent on working him open, he feels like he’s going to combust.

Hoseok managed somehow to prop himself on his elbows to look down at the soft head of hair bobbing mercilessly between his legs, chest pressed to the mattress and knees spread as they rut into the bed needily seeking friction.

“Wait … stop …Please, just stop …”

The dancer freezes and raises their head confused. Their chin is covered in spit and their lips are swollen and red just as their heated cheeks that go so well with the overall disheveled look, messy hair and robe undone, falling slightly off from their skinny shoulders.

“I’m not … I’ve never …”

Hoseok notices then the dark, lacy getup that was hidden under the robe: a strappy and delicate bralette that goes so well with their flat chest and prominent collarbones, garther belts with numerous tiny bows that go all around their long legs and of course the tiniest pair of panties that can hardly contain their long and slender cock. Shit, they’re a boy. Hoseok panics.

“I’m not gay.” he proclaims.

His partner cocks their head cutely, like a confused puppy.

“Don’t I make you feel good?” he asks.

“Yes, you do, fuck, you’re amazing …”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just that …”

Hoseok doesn’t get the chance to finish as the other attaches himself to his neck, kissing and sucking while at the same time taking Hoseok’s hand and guiding it between his legs, making him feel his cock straining against the small patch of fabric of his panties. Hoseok doesn’t know what to do, his mind short circuits as he begins carefully groping and touching. It feels so weird to have someone else’s member in his hand but he loves the weight of it, the foreign feeling of having someone grinding into his palm.

“Are you afraid?” a hot whisper in the shell of his ear.

“Yes … I’ve never done this before, I …”

“Shhh, I’ll make you feel really good, angel, trust me.”

And with that Hoseok is silenced into obedience again, letting himself be pushed back onto the mattress, curiosity mixing with lust and exacerbating his already drunken state. The boy looks for something under the pillows and as soon as he finds it he discards his robe and returns between Hoseok’s legs, spreading them gently and resuming his previous position. Mere seconds pass before the wicked tongue is prodding once more at Hoseok’s entrance, somehow wetter and hotter than even before. He moans, he can’t help himself, everything so new and fantastic, his cock twitches, achingly hard. He’s jolted back to reality once he feels a finger against his hole and realizes that it was lube that the other had fished from under the pillows. He tenses, about to protest but gets shushed again like a child, told to relax and soon enough there’s a finger inside of him and it burns. He whimpers and protests, gets hushed once more as tongue is added and it makes the push and pull easier, a mixture of pain and pleasure that Hoseok discovers to be addicting. He shuts his eyes and lets it wash over him, thinks of nothing other than the sensation of having something up his ass, his muscles begin to relax and after a few minutes it starts feeling good, real good. As soon as he begins moaning the boy adds a second finger and the pain returns, even stronger than before as he scissors them, coaxing him to relax and open up. Tears threaten once more to spill but he fights them back, stubbornly. The boy gets up from his position, fingers still inside of Hoseok as he leans down and kisses him. He welcomes the kiss, a pleasant distraction and the tug o war between pain and lust begins anew. They kiss for what feels to him like ages, until he’s short of breath and his lips swell.

“You’re doing so well, baby, so good for me …”

Hoseok can’t believe how happy the praise makes him, how it’s enough to tip scale and have him voicing his pleasure again, but just like last time, as soon as it begins washing over him in waves of intoxicating shivers, the boy begins pushing in a third finger.

“No, no, please, I can’t, I can’t take more …”

“Shhh, baby, trust me, ok? Trust me, it’ll feel really good, I promise …”

It hurts, the stretch hurts, he feels like he’s being ripped apart. Yet somehow his cock is still hard, painfully red and aching for release and Hoseok figures he must be a sicko to be enjoying this. He’s this close to crying when all of a sudden heat pools in his belly as a blinding flash of pleasure floods his system. He jolts, arching his back, mouth agape.

“What…oh god….”

“I told you I’ll make you feel good. Now be a good boy and take it.”

Hoseok registers at the back of his mind that that is probably his prostate but he doesn’t have time to think about it or anything else really as the boy mercilessly pumps his fingers in and out of his already abused hole, reaching deep inside, touching the bundle of nerves that makes him see stars behind his lids, milking him for all he’s worth. Hoseok’s close, he’s burning and about to burst, legs shaking uncontrollably and back arched beautifully but painfully, he doesn’t realize he’s drooling, doesn’t even realize how loud he’s being, moans turning to wanton please and whimpers of ecstasy.

“That’s right, angel, let it all out, cum for me, let me feel you …”

Hoseok climaxes with a shout, body convulsing as ropes of cum shoot from his cock, covering his torso and his lover, he cums for ages, until the very last spurts are almost clear instead of milky white. He goes limp, dissolving into the sheets, chest heaving with the need for air, shivering from head to toe, his mind is blank. This orgasm ruined him. He can feel lips on his forehead and gentle hands combing throw his sweat drenched locks.

“There’s a good boy, you did so well for me, baby, came so prettily …”

Hoseok smiles and doesn’t know why, he feels like he’s about to drift to sleep and have the best dream ever but just as he was about to close his eyes the boy moves from his side, removing his fingers from his puffy rim. Hoseok looks on, still not comprehending what is going on before his lover pulls his cock out of the lacy panties and coats it with generous amounts of lube.

“Wait, what are you …”

“Just relax, angel.”

Before he could protest any further Hoseok feels the blunt stab of a cock against his ass and immediately tenses up. His partner caresses his inner thighs, cooing at him and urging him to open up and trust him but he can’t do it, he’s too afraid but he’s also too exhausted to move away so he just lays there feeling his hole stretch like never before, making room to be filled to the brim. His lover bottoms out and it hurts and he feels so open and vulnerable and exposed and somehow, as an afterthought to what is happening, Hoseok thinks he deserves this, deserves the pain and to be used up like this. He’s crying now, unable to contain all his emotions anymore.

“No, baby, don’t cry …”

The boy leans in, caging him with his lithe body, cupping his face and gently wiping his tears away, kissing his nose and lips and forehead and it’s soothing.

“Forget about it, whatever it is that troubles you so, forget it. You’re with me now, ok? Can you feel me, baby? Can you feel me inside of you? Filling you up, stretching you around me … you’re hard again, baby.”

“It hurts …”

“Shhh, let it hurt, take the pain, let it wash over you.”

The dancer begins to move then, grinding into him at first, making Hoseok attempt to pull his legs together but only managing to hike them up his partner’s bony hips. Then he begins pulling out and shoving back inside, the sound of the lube wet and sinful. After a few more shallow thrusts he starts really slamming into him, the bed rocking with the force of it. It doesn’t burn anymore, the pain dulled down to a sort of numbness and Hoseok keeps crying.

“You’re doing so well, angel, so good for me … Let me reward you now.”

He grabs on to Hoseok’s hips, angling him upwards and when he thrusts in once again Hoseok screams. The blinding pleasure is back as his prostate is stimulated now by something much better than fingers. He whimpers, overstimulated but with no control over what’s happening, Hoseok just lays there and takes it. The fucking becomes more violent, faster and rougher, the boy holding on to him with enough strength to leave hand shaped bruises on his hips and thighs, sucking dark red marks on to the column of his neck. After a while he bends Hoseok nearly in half, pushing his legs up until they touch his chest, fucking into him like some wild thing set loose. Hoseok drools, eyes rolling back, heart beating so fast in his chest he can hear it like a drum in his ears.

“I’m gonna cum … I’m gonna cum inside of you, fill you up and mark you as my own … Fuck, baby, you’re so tight … It’s really your first time, isn’t it? Fuck, fuck … Take it, take it! Ah!”

Hoseok feels the heat spilling inside of him for only a moment before his own orgasm makes him fall into himself and see white. He cums clear fluid, slit gaping open as he shoots more than six loads and passes out.

Hoseok wakes up with a jolt and he immediately feels nauseous. He can hear his phone ringing but he has no idea where it is, he has no idea where he is either. He looks around the unfamiliar surroundings, the crammed room full of clothes and makeup and shoes … His eyes land on a clock that indicates seven. Seven … in the morning? He can’t tell, there are  no windows, the only light coming from a small lamp placed on the floor near an electrical socket. The ringing stops and Hoseok sighs. He hopes it wasn’t something important.

He groans and rubs his face with both hands, trying to get rid of his sleepiness and dizziness. His entire body aches but especially his bottom. He’s naked he realizes, only covered in a thin sheet. He hears a whimper and flinches in surprise. Then everything comes rushing back. His meeting with the superintendent the day before, seeing Yoonji again, finding out that he might have stupidly abandoned his best friend with the mafia. Then getting shitfaced and hooking up with a stripper. A male stripper. He had sex with a man for the first time last night and he doesn’t know how to feel about it but he has no time to be confused. There are so many things he must do, he needs to leave , he … Another whimper interrupts his trail of thoughts.

Hoseok looks down at his previous night’s lover bundled up in the sheets, knees drown up, sleeping like a child, arms crossed protectively around himself. He notices the countless cuts and bruises covering the small body and his heart aches. He’s probably a prostitute too, Hoseok figures.

He carefully slides out of bed and begins collecting his clothes from the floor, hastily throwing them on. He checks his pockets, relieved to find his phone and wallet and keys. Hoseok’s ready to go when a tiny voice stops him.

“Don’t forget …”


“You’re mine now.”

Chapter Text

They say that it takes 21 days to form a new habit. It’s been 5 months and Jungkook was still struggling to adjust. On the one hand he was living the dream, he had gained Kim Seokjin’s attention and favor, he was moving up the ranks, finally on his way towards his goal of becoming the second in command of the greatest man he has ever known. And yet this man was either testing him or mocking him.

See Jungkook had gladly accepted to be put through a grueling training schedule, he even excitedly embraced the idea of running errands under the close supervision of some higher ranking subordinates and he had been stocked about getting to have lunch with the boss himself twice a week. But getting his highschool diploma and then college education seemed like the dumbest thing possible. Why on Earth would he need those? What’s his diploma gonna do for him when there will be bullets flying by his head?

It was 10 pm and Jungkook was doing homework. He wanted to be at the gun range, he had seen a goon the other day assemble a gun in 35 seconds and he was sure that he could do better if he practiced a little. But no, he was stuck in his new room, doing algebra. Jungkook huffed. Most days he tried to look at the good things, he had an apartment all to himself in the good part of town, he got to work out in a fully equipped gym, got to learn new things from veteran mobsters, things like guns and how to use them and drugs and how to make them. During his first month he received a huge budget to get a new wardrobe and everyday he’d wink at himself in the mirror because he looked hella fine. Even bought himself a Rolex, his very own not stolen and used but brand new, solid gold with JK engraved on the side. If only his folks could see him now, if only the jerks and losers from school could see him now.

Of course there were hardships too. The people around him were tough as nails and never held back when training, kicking and punching him with bloodlust in their eyes. They nicknamed him “pretty boy” and joked about him auditioning to take Taehyung’s place, the master’s new doll. He hated that, it enraged him and made him lash out blindly. He’d lose most fights, returning at the end of the day, covered in bruises, the bags of frozen peas in his fridge bought with the sole purpose of taking down his swelling. There was somewhat of a bottomless pit between where Jungkook was and where the rest of the Kim clan lived. He was too much of an outsider, too young and too unskilled to be of any real value yet. This made his ambition grow, their disregard and mockery fueled the fire within him. On most days at least. Other times he’d just sit at his desk, sulking over impossible math homework and feeling like a child.

Kim Seokjin at times acted like a father and that didn’t help his self esteem at all. Seokjin would smile at him while chewing his food as they sat for lunch in the huge, heavily decorated dining room and there would be a glint in his eyes, something joyful, almost prideful and Jungkook always expected praise yet he always got some sort of semi nagging question about his school progress or his sleeping habits or his diet. It took everything for him not to eye roll and spit out a sarcastic “ all is well, mom”. But this showed that Jin cared, that’s what Jungkook would tell himself. The most dangerous man in the country cared for him and how well he slept and ate, the same man that butchered his rivals bare handed patted his head and fixed his collar. He was privileged and damn proud of it and he made it his mission to get praised by Seokjin as soon as possible.

Jungkook gritted his teeth in frustration and flung the math books across the room. They landed with a dull thump and he sighed deeply. He couldn’t focus and he was antsy, too many thoughts swarming in his head, he needed to do something, to move so he grabbed his gym bag, checked inside to make sure he had everything he needed and left his apartment without even locking the door.

There was a swimming pool on the ground level, Olympic sized and open only for the residents of the building and a few other of Jin’s closest subordinates. The neon light ceiling was turned off leaving the entire space shrugged in only the blue glow coming from the underwater pool lights. Jungkook’s footsteps echoed in the emptiness of the place and a shiver ran through his body as he discarded his clothes and began stretching a little before diving in. He grunted at the stiffness of his shoulders and frowned when he heard a few pops from his sore joints.

“My, my, Jungkookie, aren’t you a sight!”

Jungkook turned, startled by the voice.

“Mister Kim!”

Seokjin giggled.

“Mister Kim? That just sounds weird. It’s been a few months now, you should know how to address me by now. Or is it that you don’t want to use the word master? You’re too rebellious for it, aren’t you, Jungkook?”

“No, Sir…”


“Master Kim.”

Jungkook was tall for his age and pretty well built yet Jin was taller, broader and overall far more imposing. The mobster made a show out of taking off his silky bathrobe, going as far as smugly quirking a brow at the younger, obviously aware of how much fear the strength hidden under all the muscle caused. This was a man that pried people open and dug into their carcasses like a wild animal. Jungkook was scared that he had managed to anger the man so he tried to make conversation, defuse the situation before he ended up with his head forced under the water.

“What are you doing here…Master Kim?”

He laughed once more, a warm and open laughter that contrasted so much with the situation.

“I own the building, Kookie. Several like it, actually. Gotta offer proper housing for my people, it’s the right thing to do given all the hard work they put in. But I come here because the pool is bigger than the one I have at home and because the men know to vacate it after 10. “

“I didn’t know…I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, you’re still a rookie.”

Seokjin began pacing and stretching his arms above his head and to the side in languid motions, humming an upbeat song while doing so. Jungkook didn’t know what to do, he figured he should probably leave so he began collecting his things when his boss turned to him and said:

“Ah, where are you going? Come, have a swim with me. It’s been a while since I had a partner. We should race.”

Jungkook was dumbstruck but couldn’t refuse so he carefully approached the edge of the pool and waited for Seokjin to do the same. The older gave him a smile and a wink and began counting down from 3. On one they both lunged into the water with a loud splash.

Jungkook had been practicing sports for around 3 years now so he wasn’t a newbie but still far away from a pro. However he was young and strong and had this terrible need to prove himself constantly, an ambition fueled by insecurity that nudged him forward with both passion and crippling fear of failure. He needed to show his worth, everything was a competition, a test and he wanted nothing more than to be the first one back at the imaginary finish line. But he could feel Jin not too far from him on his right, breaking the water with powerful thrusts, kicking back strongly and ultimately leaving him behind. Jungkook’s lungs burned and his chest and shoulders ached, if he wasn’t under water he’d be screaming in pain yet he refused to falter even a bit, refused to give in, the thought of the burning shame of throwing in the towel too much for him. In the end Jin won, the man swiping his wet hair from his face as Jungkook eventually trails behind him and latches on weakly to the tilled edge, breathing heavily.

“Best out of 3?” his boss offers sweetly.

It ends up being best out of 5 with no wins for Jungkook, the younger so humiliated by the end of it all that he can’t even lift his eyes from the floor. He drags himself out of the water and limply tries to dry his face, arms weak like wet noodles after the intense effort. He feels like petulantly crying much like a child would, he hates himself that much. He inhales suddenly surprised by the touch of warm palms on his shoulders.

“What’s with all the bruising?” Seokjin asks, breath hot near the younger’s ear.

“It’s from … all the training.”

The warm hands roam on his back, pressing sadistically into the darker bruises, Jungkook tries holding his breath, biting his tongue, anything to not let even a whimper escape him. He fails however, squeaking embarrassingly when with one swift motion Seokjin pulls his wet speedos down and grabs him firmly by his cock, pulling him close enough that he can feel every dip and curve of the older’s chest on his back.

“How’s the training going, Jungkookie?” he asks in a low tone that reverberates in the vast space.

“It’s … it’s fine.”

Seokjin hums and begins roughly pumping the younger, forcing him to hardness yet continuing to converse as if his action was of no importance.

“What do you like best, hm? The fighting, the drug selling …”

“The… the gun range. Sir …”

“Guns. Of course.” he laughs but there’s a sinister tint to it that sends shivers down Jungkook’s spine yet his body can’t control itself too well, trembling with a mixture of fear and arousal, the adrenaline getting to his head, making him dizzy, making him lose his footing and forcing him to lean on the other for support.

“Tell me what you hate then.”

“School … fuck. I hate doing homework and … ah, like I’m some damn kid … Sir, please!”

“Please what?”

He was going to say “please stop, I really don’t want this” but the words froze on his tongue and melted away, he couldn’t say it, he couldn’t dare, it would be disrespectful, right? It would bring upon him the wrath of a killer, it would disappoint his idol, he couldn’t say no to him. His cock was leaking, precum dripping in shiny, gooey drops onto the cold tilled floor and he hated this, hated the vile touch. 

“Tell me, Kookie, are you a boy or a man?”


“Which one are you, Jungkook, boy or man?”

Seokjin tightened his grip on the younger’s shaft, his movements faster, flicking his wrist skillfully on the upstroke, coating the sensitive head in precum and teasing the slit with his thumb. He continued talking into his ear, voice deadly and low.

“Are you some boy, some dime a dozen child with big dreams he can never achieve? Were you bullied in school, did your parents hate you, did you grow up like a weed, despised but hard to unroot? Do you still cry into your pillow at night? Do you get into fights to prove a point? Are you insecure about yourself, your looks, your smarts, everything? Tell me!”


“No?! Then why are you constantly looking down like the dirt is where you belong? Why is finishing school such an impossible task? Why can’t you land a few punches and win a fight for once? Why can’t you look me in the eye when I speak to you? Do you think I don’t know what you want? Do you think I need a boy by my side, Jungkook? Do you think I wanna put my trust in to a fucking teenager? I need a man to stand beside me. Are you that man?”

“Yes! Fuck, yes!”

His cock was throbbing , achingly hard and red and tears started forming at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill, blurring his vision. He was so close, heat pooling heavy in his loins, his entire body pulled taught, ready to snap, Seokjin was holding him like a bow, ready to shoot, ready to break his mind and crush his soul.

“Don’t you dare cum …” the man warned. “Don’t you dare spill on my hand like some bitch in heat, I already have a cocksleeve waiting for me at home, I don’t need another one following me around, calling itself a member of my clan.”

Jungkook bit his bottom lip splitting it open,blood dripping down his chin, the pain a good enough distraction. He clenched his fists too, nails digging into his palms, he felt like thrashing on the floor in frustration, why was his body so useless? Seokjin was relentless, his grip firm and perfect, his hand felt like the best thing he had ever fucked and it took him every ounce of will power to still his hips, to keep breathing, to hold back from what could be the best orgasm of his life.

“Are you gonna break, Kookie?”

“No …” he barely replied through a huff.

“Why do you wanna be my second in command so badly, hm? Why are you doing this to yourself?”

“Because … ah… because of you …because I want you to… fuck….I want you to see me ….”

“Ah, validation. Of course. Why me? Did I impress you, Kookie, sweet, little, unwanted Kookie saw what power looked like and craved it for himself? Do you idolize me, is that it? Am I your hero, everything you ever wanted to be?”


“Do you love me, Jungkook? Tell me honestly. You abandoned your family for me, burnt bridges, left school, you fucking beheaded a man for me, I can’t be wrong. Tell me.”

Jungkook did idolize him, he sought his approval and his approval alone, the man that took him in, gave him a home, fed him, kept him in school despite his protests, the man that was building him up bit by bit, giving him chance after chance, day after day. Seokjin that was kinder to him than his mother, Seokjin that believed in him unlike his father, Seokjin that thought he was smart and capable, that never sugar coated anything, tough love but love nonetheless, the type he had never received in his life and was craving more than even power.

“Yes … yes …”

“Yes what?”

“Yes I love you!”

“Who do you love?”

“You, Master Kim, I love you!” he shouted.

Seokjin let him go at that, detaching himself from the boy’s heated body, letting him slump to the ground, knees hitting it hard. He looked at the younger’s hunched, trembling figure and chuckled, grabbing his towel and putting on his robe.

“Come see me tomorrow. I’m gonna give you your first solo assignment.”

“Yes, Master Kim.”

And with that he left, footsteps quiet as a cat’s, Jungkook figured him a demon, there was no way Kim Seokjin was human. His heavy breathing echoed on as he tried and failed to regain his composure. Adrenaline still coursed through his body, he could still hear the man’s voice in his ear, feel the heat of breath against the shell of it, his hand’s maddening touch lingered still at the forefront of his mind. Seokjin was a beast and Jungkook somehow made it out alive from their encounter. He sighed and let the tears finally stain his cheeks. It took him three strokes to cum, thighs convulsing with each rope of milky white that dirtied the floor and couldn’t hold back the chant of Jin, Jin, Jin that left his bloodied lips.


Taehyung  could feel himself leaving his body, his mind teetering like fog at the edges of a forest. Numbness has settled in his muscles from the long hours of maintaining the same position, cheek to the floor, ass up. He was breathing steadily, as if asleep, unmovable and as easy to disregard as furniture. He felt relaxed, fully, deeply, truly relaxed like this.

He blinked a few times when he heard noises from the hallway, the distinct beep of the lock and the tired groan of the man that owned his life. He didn’t enter  the bedroom, going to the bathroom first, Taehyung followed the sounds like a movie in his mind. Seokjin relieving himself, washing his hands, splashing some water on his face as well, undressing and chugging the clothes in the hamper, moving on into the walk in closet, picking something from what sounded like the bottom drawer which meant leather pants. Taehyung’s heartbeat sped up at that. Then silence for a short while before the door opened. He was not mistaken, Seokjin was wearing ankle high black leather boots and matching leather pants. He couldn’t see above the calves but knowing him he was probably shirtless.  He didn’t make a sound, even though he felt like whimpering when the lower end of the slim cane came into sight.

“Why are you littering my floor again? Speak.”

“I’m sorry, Master … I need you.”

“What have you done again, you filth?”

Taehyung didn’t answer. He always had a hard time admitting his wrong doings even to himself, let alone speak them aloud, confess them as his master demanded. Today once more he can’t bring himself to say the words, just whimper pathetically and accept the punishment for not answering a direct question than have to emotionally torture himself with the heavy guilt of his sins.

“You can keep your trap shut all you want, that won’t make the shit that you’ve done any less real. Every time you crawl back to me I know, even without having to listen to your slobbering confessions. I know the shit you are up to, I know exactly what disgusting things you are capable of.”

Seokjin moves to stand behind him and Taehyung can feel his presence like a bushfire wildly approaching. He kicks his legs further apart and takes a step back.

“Count and thank me.”

“Yes, Master.”

The first hit lands on the fleshy mound of his right ass cheek, pain flaring up instantly, first a white-hot sting and then a searing ache.

“One. Thank you, Master.”

The second blow comes after a soft whoosh sound and lands on his left buttock. The pain returns in the same manner, sharp at first, scorching after. He counts again and gives thanks. The blows continue in a steady rhythm, four more for each butt cheek and then they travel lower, five to each of his upper thighs. By the time he moves even lower, pain seems to radiate from inside of him. He’s sure that his lower half must be bright red and covered in welts and he is right, Seokjin unable to tear his eyes from his second favorite color. The welts are raised and will turn into deep purple bruises that will ache for weeks. Another blow and Taehyung is too lost and forgets to count.

“What’s wrong, bitch? Can’t count over 20?”

“I’m sorry, Master …”

“You’re always sorry, it’s fucking pathetic.”

He grabs a handful of flesh and squeezes, making Taehyung cry out in distress. His ass is too raw, the pinching feels like his master is tearing into his flesh yet he doesn’t stop, even adds a few powerful slaps that Taehyung is grateful don’t turn into a full on spanking session after all the caning he endured.

“Look at you, you’re skin and bones, it’s fucking creepy. But I guess that’s to be expected since you’re a lowlife meth head. You’re still on the shit, aren’t you? Answer me.”

“Yes, Master.I still take it …”

“Of course you fucking do. How else are you going to silence all those voices in your empty head, am I right? You can still hear them, can’t you?”

“Master …”

“All those kids, all those innocent people that have met their deaths because of you.”

“Master, please …”

“Please what, cunt?”

“More …”

“More what? Speak up, you dumb bitch!”

“Hit me more! Master, please! Make me hurt more! Make me bleed! Please!”

His begging gets louder and louder until his last please turn to desperate screams. Seokjin places his boot clad foot on his head to silence him, throws the cane somewhere on the bed and unbuckles quickly, the wide belt making a distinct sound as he removes it, loops and tests it against his open palm before moving back behind the crying mess of a slave at his feet. He doesn’t ask him to count or thank him this time, just begins whipping him mercilessly, chaotically until the belt slashes the skin open and fresh blood starts dripping down his thighs to his trembling knees. The pain is almost unbearable and Taehyung feels a rush like no type of meth could ever give him. He sees white when he closes his eyelids, tears still falling, he is blissed out, his mind finally quiet. It hurts so badly he’s close to fainting, a useless pile of trash on his master’s floor. He’s so grateful for the beating, so happy to be finally tamed and subdued, the ugly beast inside of him ran away and hid, he can finally rest even if for a short while.

The lashes finally stop coming down on him like hellish rain and he vaguely registers the sound of footsteps. He’s about to fall asleep out of exhaustion when an ice cold splash of water lands on his face and a sharp kick to his side makes him jolt back to reality.

“Stand up, bitch, I’m not done with you.”

Taehyung scrambles to get up, legs weak and useless, he falls painfully on his bloody ass but manages to eventually stand thanks to his master helping him by pulling on his hair until he’s up. Seokjin looks at him with a scowl on his face as if he’s the grossest thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“What the fuck is this?” his master asks, pointing out his pulsing hard dick and he lowers his eyes, humiliated. “You’re fucking sick. You’ve got blood running down your legs and you get turned on by that? You disgusting pain slut. Or is it because you were thinking about all those people you’ve killed? Hm, is that it? Does murder turn you on?”

“No, Master … It doesn’t.”

“Then why the fuck is your cock hard, huh? Why are you leaking all over my floor?”

“Because I am a desperate painslut …”

“You make me wanna vomit.”

Seokjin spits straight on his face and then backhand slaps him powerfully enough to send him crumbling to the floor again.

“Stay there! That’s where dirt belongs anyway. Get on all fours, move! I don’t have all night to waste on some sick bitch in heat. “

He takes a few steps but Taehyung once more can’t see exactly what he is doing. His face hurts and he fears he might get a black eye in the morning but it’s nothing compared to the agony that every movement causes to radiate from his back side. Yet he obediently waits on all fours as instructed, cock still leaking miserably under him.

Seokjin returns and once again kicks his legs further apart. Suddenly Taehyung can feel something being poured onto his exposed hole and he realizes it’s lube. He gasps both because of the cold gel and because of the idea that his master is going to touch him. The man doesn’t bother with foreplay of any kind, roughly shoving two fingers in in one go. The stretch burns despite the lube but Seokjin’s fingers are deliciously long and Taehyung can feel shivers running through his body, mixing with the pain in an intoxicating way.

“You always come running back to me, don’t you, doll?”

Taehyung blinks himself out of his daze at the petname. Was his master going soft on him? He tried peaking over his shoulder but was meant with a warning tsk so he returned to facing forwards while trying to give a coherent answer.

“Yes, Master, I need you, always have …”

“After the …separation, I was out to kill, so blood thirsty, everything I laid eyes on I wanted to destroy, I’d never been so angry before …” Seokjin reminisces as he inserts a third finger, making his slave moan. “When I brought you over for the first time I wanted to strangle you to death while fucking you, see the light die in your eyes as I came. But you…Just as I was tightening my grip around your throat, as you were about to pass out, do you remember what you said to me?”

“I asked you to go harder, Master.”

“Exactly. I knew then that you were one that wouldn’t break, that there was nothing that I couldn’t do to you that you wouldn’t thank me for, nothing that I could do to make you leave. “

A fourth finger and Taehyung was crying, hiccupping between moans, he was happy and in agony, he hurt so badly in some parts but was numb in others, his face burnt still from the force of the hit and his cock was twitching with every push of his master’s fingers inside of him. More cool gel was added and he could see where this was going.

“Problem with you however is that you’re such an incorrigible whore. I made you work the pole and turned you into the most sought after cock warmer in Seoul yet you still don’t seem to get enough. Your hole is so sloppy and loose I couldn’t feel shit if I stuck my dick in you and frankly I don’t even want to, you’re like fucking a public toilet. But I’m a kind master so I’ll take pity on you this once and give you my hand. How does that sound?”

“Yes, Master, thank you! You’re so generous and I’m so undeserving!”

“Beg for it then, let me hear you debase yourself.”

Seokjin began to slowly but steadily push in. Taehyung’s hole was puffy from all the abuse and stretched close to its limit. The older folded his thumb into his palm and used his free hand to tightly grip the other’s hip, keeping him in place as his rim tried to engulf the largest part of his hand.

“Ah, Master, that feels so good! Please, give me more! Please, fist me, Master, fist me! Use me up, fuck! I want it so badly !”

Taehyung screamed when Seokjin finally got past the tight ring of muscle, his entire hand now nestled inside the velvety, fluttering  walls. He slowly folded his fingers, forming a fist.

“Yes! Fuck, Master, fuck me! Please, please!”

He needn’t say more as Seokjin began to push in and out as fast as he could, watching intently as his boy’s stomach protruded with each thrust.

“How is it, doll? Can you feel me in your guts?”

“Yes, Master, yes! Thank you so much! Thank you! Thank you! “

“Quit screaming or I’ll pull out so fast you’ll prolapse.”

Taehyung was so far gone even that sounded like a good idea. He was still steadily crying yet he wasn’t sure if his vision was blurry only because of the tears. His arms have long given out and he was back to his initial position which honestly he preferred because it was best for presenting himself to his master. Taehyung was drooling stupidly onto the floor and Seokjin commented on it, calling him a mindless fuck hole. Taehyung giggled at that, it was true. The ache in his balls subsided and he no longer felt the desperate need to cum however a different need flared up and panic rose in his chest like a flood. The pressure inside of him was so deliciously good, he felt so full and stretched out and used and he loved it but his prostate wasn’t the only thing being roughly stimulated.

“Master…Master, please, you’ve gotta stop…”

“Hm? Stop? Why would I do that?”

“Master, please, I’m gonna…. I’m gonna piss myself, please! “

Seokjin smirked at the desperate tone of his toy’s voice and began pushing into him even rougher, wiggling his fist around and putting as much pressure as he could on his bladder. Taehyung was screaming and begging for him to stop, his thighs were trembling uncontrollably. Eventually he lost control and began pissing on the floor in a steady stream of clear fluid. Taehyung was mortified into silence.

It took him almost a minute to empty his bladder. He hid his face in the palms of his hands and cried silently until it stopped, until  Seokjin removed his hand from inside his ass, leaving his hole gushing open, dribbling lube that was mixing with the dried blood on his thighs and calves. He managed to sink to a new low, how much more disgusting could he get?

Seokjin left him to sit in a puddle of his own piss as he went to the bathroom to wash his hand of all the lube. When he returned his slave was still sitting there, unmoving but for the constant trembling in his legs and shoulders. He sat on the armchair opposite the bed, palming himself through his leather pants, his cock ached yet he refused to do anything about it. He used to fuck Taehyung years ago but he later figured out that the younger didn’t crave his cock as much as his whip or cane or belt. Seokjin also felt no real lust for the boy, it was his crazed loyalty that he wanted more than anything. So tonight his was once more going to keep his pants on.

Seokjin extended a leg and relaxed into the plush chair.

“Are you going to sit there all night? C’mere.”

“But, Master … I’m filthy …”

“You’re always filthy, doll, it’s not something you can help. C’mon, lick my boot clean for me.”

Taehyung harshly wiped away his tears and crawled towards his master, a sparkle of gratitude in his eyes. He lowered his head and began licking fat stripes from tip to lacing to sides and back, Taehyung was thorough and he enjoyed the taste of leather on his tongue. He relaxed while doing this, his heart swelling in content. His master didn’t hate him, his master still wanted him around despite the fact that he had just pissed himself like a baby or a dog.

“That’s enough, now, put your head in my lap, straddle my leg.”

Taehyung obeyed immediately settling into the assigned position. He would have purred if he could when he felt his master’s hand threading through his hair, petting him.

“Hump my leg, I know you want to, your small cock is so hard it’s turning purple.”

“Thank you, Master, thank you so, so much …”

He was sniffling again as his hips began to move almost on their own. The friction was amazing, his precum helping his cock glide on the leather of the pants, this was heaven and he was so close, his glands so sensitive he felt tingles all the way to his toes with each thrust.

“There’s a good bitch, are you enjoying yourself, hm? Is my cumrag happy now? Got beaten hard enough?”

“Yes, Master, you’re the best! Always so good to me!”

“Are you gonna cum, bitch? Are you gonna cum from humping your owner’s leg?”

“Yes, Master! Please let me cum, Master! Please!”

“Go ahead, make even more of a mess of yourself.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue as ecstasy took over him, drooling down his chin as he shot his load on his Master’s leg, humping him still through his orgasm and eventually collapsing at his feet, a filthy, twitching mess.

Seokjin laughed and nudged him with his foot but the boy could only whimper in response.

“Clean up and get out of my house once you’re done.” He ordered before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him, plunging Taehyung into a deafening silence. But Taehyung didn’t mind the silence, it’s actually what he’s been chasing desperately for years.


Seokjin was a very picky man. He licked his food gourmet, his clothes designer and his cars foreign. He grew up spoiled and he had every intention to stay that way. Of course his pampered side had to stay hidden for the better part of his day because in order to run an empire of crime such as his he needed to be firm and give an aura of deadly dominance. This tired him very much but what could he do? He had nobody he could trust, nobody could reach his impossibly high standards and for the most part nobody even tried out of fear of imminent failure.

Then there was Jungkook, young, ambitious, starry eyed Jungkook. A kid that called himself a man, so stubborn in his ambition that he had to take notice. However ambition is not enough to crawl your way into Kim Seokjin’s frozen over heart. Honestly, you’d have to be a little crazy as well.

Jungkook was becoming aware of that especially now as he stood in front of Seokjin after their wild encounter the previous night, a single glass filled with what looked like water between them.

“Master Kim …?”

“Ah, you’ve finally got the hang of it! I’m happy.”

“If I may, Master Kim, you said something about giving me my first solo assignment.”

“I did, indeed. But before I can do that I need to know I can trust you, Jungkookie. Afterall, you are trying to become my right hand man, that’s a position that requires a lot of trust on my side.”

“I know that, Master Kim, and you can trust me, I swear!”

“Words don’t mean much to me, Kookie, especially the words of a highschool dropout and former pickpocket. I need you to prove it to me, I need to know that you’re willing to go the distance, die for me if needed.”

Jungkook fell silent. He had no idea how he could prove that. Plus the prospect of death still frightened him greatly.

“Drink what’s in the glass, Jungkook.”


“Don’t ask me what’s in the glass. Do it if you want to be part of this clan. Do it if you want to be mine.”

Jungkook felt like running, he wanted to turn on his heels and fight every guard on his way out, flee the town, flee the country, he wanted nothing more than to be as far away as possible from Kim Seokjin and his piercing gaze. He was terrified, so terrified that he downed the glass in one long swing, not even tasting the liquid, not even thinking about what he was doing.

Chapter Text

Yoongi did his best to conduct all his affairs for the day via email, typing manically on both of his phones and his small laptop. He didn’t want to make any noise, didn’t want to risk waking Jimin up. He was on voluntary babysitting duty, something that had become regular over the past months.

It all began on that one faithful day when Jimin had touched him for the first time in exchange, he figured, for helping him sneak around and visit his friend. Yoongi had been offended then, felt used and reduced to some sex crazed goon that would do anything for a handjob so the next time the blond tried touching him he said no. He said no the third and fourth time as well while still continuing to help him sneak out for his visits. Eventually Jimin confronted him about it.

“ They’re different things you know. I’m not touching you so that you’ll help me see Tae.”

“Then why?!”

“Because … I’m curious.”

He was indeed very curious. What began as handjobs turned to blowjobs and rimjobs and fingerfucking in various combinations and variations. At first Jimin trusted Yoongi to keep his hands to himself but eventually he resorted to tying him up with ribbons and bunched up shirts and even his own lacy panties. Yoongi would stay there at the younger’s mercy for what seemed like hours, crying without any real reason, some odd mix of ecstasy and agony over having and at the same time not having Jimin. His love for him went from hopeless to desperate and was now edging towards reckless. Even Namjoon had raised his brow in confusion when he had asked for the Nth time about Jimin’s health.

“If you’re that concerned with his condition then go sit with him today. I don’t really care where you are as long as you do your job without any hiccups.”

“I’m not concerned about him, more about you, boss. You’ve always obsessed over his wellbeing and I don’t want you to be thrown off your game just cause he’s got the sniffles.”

Jimin didn’t just have a cold, he had suddenly come down with a terrible flu that had gotten him bed ridden for a few days and eventually culminated with a fever so high he became delirious. Yoongi had stood by his side those two horrible nights, along with the doctor and nurse Namjoon brought in. The boss himself couldn’t be in the same room because he couldn’t risk getting sick, he had a crime empire to run after all. So he delegated as always, a task of such importance like Jimin’s probable death could only have been handed to his lieutenant. Yoongi was incredibly grateful, he might have even let it show but in the moment he didn’t care, his beloved was ill and he was powerless to make him better so being able to at least see him and secretly hold his hand almost made him fall to his knees in relief. He’s sure he would have bashed his head against the walls had he been forced to wait this out in his apartment. 

Nonetheless tears pricked his eyes throughout the agonizing couple of days and he did pull out numerous strands of hair in his distress. He was a mess, didn’t eat nor sleep, didn’t take his eyes off the small frame thrashing under the damp sheets in pain from the scolding fire that wouldn’t die within him.

Jimin opened his eyes a few times, glassy and lost, looked at Yoongi or better said through him and asked for water. He quickly complied, holding him up, back against his chest, carefully tipping the glass so that he could drink in tiny sips. Fuck the no touching rule. He brought ice cubes and held them gently to his chapped lips, presses cold cloths to his sweaty forehead, gave him pills instead of the nurse that just stood by and made sure he did it properly, even helped the younger relief himself and gave him a sponge bath.

He was so tiny. Yoongi himself wasn’t very tall but Jimin seemed fairy sized. The illness made him shrink into himself, tight as a ball in fetal position while he convulsed with full body shivers, his teeth clattering, beautiful face scrunched up in pain, hair greasy and wet, stuck to his forehead. The pitiful sight broke Yoongi’s heart. He tried comforting him, petting his back through the covers, shushing him when he heard the muffled cries, talking him to sleep in a low voice, close to a whisper.

At its worst, when the fever reached 105, Jimin started babbling nonsense. At first Yoongi was able to make a bit of sense of the string of words, something about his butterflies and him not being one. He then complained about being cold and hungry and something about needing socks. He was already hot enough but Yoongi would have done anything to make him feel better so he brought him a pair and put them on. Jimin didn’t seem to notice though and went on about the socks having holes in them. He cried some more but with very few tears, clearly too dehydrated. And then he began calling for his momma. He didn’t stop for hours no matter how much Yoongi tried shushing him, Jimin kept on asking for his mom and where she was and why had she left, why had he not been good enough, why won’t she return …  Yoongi apologized and kept on apologizing until his voice cracked and he began sobbing because of how useless he felt.

“Momma…I’m not dead, momma…you can come back for me, I didn’t die, I promise …Momma … Momma… I wasn’t there … I wasn’t inside … Please, momma … I’m still here, I’m still waiting … Mom …”

“Please, Jiminie, enough, please …”

“She’s not coming, is she? Is she? Tell me! Is momma coming?”

“No, baby, I’m sorry … I’m so, so sorry.”

“She doesn’t know … nobody knows … I was outside, with Taetae … I wasn’t inside …”

“Shhh, shhhh. I’m sorry, Minnie, I’m sorry.”

On the third day the fever mercifully broke and Jimin fell into a heavy slumber. The doctor put him on another IV drop and declared him out of the danger zone but still in need of supervision. That was fine by Yoongi, he had no plans of moving from his side anyway, no matter how it looked like from the outside. He was being reckless but couldn’t help it, he’d take on the entire Kim clan if needed, he won’t let any harm come to his Jimin.

His… Jimin wasn’t his.

The butterfly that Yoongi had bought for him months ago turned out to be a moth but he was happy to have it nonetheless. It was an immense bug, wings the size of a palm, colorful and strong, an Atlas moth. It flew freely through the penthouse, Jimin following it like a child chasing rainbows. He’d held his breath when the creature landed on him and used its fluffy legs to go up and down. It lived for almost two weeks. Instead of tossing it in the garbage Namjoon had it pinned to a cushion and framed so that Jimin could keep it forever. At first the sight of his pet’s lifeless body put on display on the wall like an ornament had saddened him but in the end he was grateful to still be able to enjoy its beauty and silent, albeit now motionless, company. The boy bought more books on butterflies and moths, apparently nursing a new found hobby and Yoongi found a lame excuse to get the boss’ lover a new pet.

“It was my fault for picking it, I wanna make it up to him.”

“By buying him another cocoon? I fail to see your logic.”

It’s called a chrysalis, Yoongi would later find out as Jimin bounced around excitedly at the sight of the new oversized jar nestling the soon to emerge Tau emperor moth. After it followed a Luna moth.

All three of them are now hanging on the wall above Jimin’s bed. He had named them, Penelopa, Rapunzel and Florine. Yoongi stared at them as he waited for a reply to his most recent email. He snapped out of his daze when he saw the sheets shuffling on the bed and a golden head emerging from them.

“Jimin, are you alright?” Yoongi bolted to his side, helping him to a sitting position, fluffing the pillows against the headboard. The younger asked for water which he gulped down in one minute flat. “Easy or else your stomach will ache.”

“Mhm … What day is it? How long have I been …?”

“Two days. You were out of it for two days.”

“Where’s daddy?”

“He’s got a lot of meetings today.”

“And you don’t?”

“I can work remotely.”

“I stink. I need a bath. And I’m hungry … What’s this?”

“ A catheter, the doc put you on an iv cause you were getting dehydrated too fast. The nurse will come by in the evening and take it out. ”

“How long have you been here?”

“Three days.”

“Three days?”

“Three days.”

Jimin punched his arm with almost no strength at all.

“Idiot.” he said. “How do you think that must’ve looked from the outside?”

“I don’t care, you were sick …”

“I was useless … Bring me a mirror.”

Yoongi raised an eyebrow in question to the strange request but Jimin replied with the same expression, challenging him. The older got up and shuffled through the things on the vanity until he found a handheld mirror, the wooden frame and handle beautifully sculpted into roses, an ornate J embossed into the back. Yoongi huffed at the extravagant thing and brought it to Jimin who took it almost hesitantly.  He gazed at himself for a while, turning his head from side to side, touching his cheeks and running a hand through his hair. Suddenly he lets out an angry scream and throws the mirror against the wall, making it shatter in hundreds of sharp, sparkling pieces. Yoongi freezes for a moment before grabbing the younger’s hands and worriedly looking into his eyes for an answers.

“What’s wrong, what happened?!”

“I’m hideous!”

“What? No, no, you’re not! Jiminie, you’re just sick…”

“Did he see me like this? Did daddy see me like this?! Tell me!”

“No! No, he didn’t want to catch the bug so he didn’t visit.”

“Oh, thank god…”

Jimin breathes out relieved and a few tears fall from his stinging eyes. Yoongi looks on in a daze, not comprehending the situation at all.

“I need to take a bath, I need to get out of these pajamas…”

“Yeah, ok, Jiminie, I’ll help you.”

Jimin walked like a newborn fawn but very determined despite his wobbliness. He leaned on Yoongi, the brunet almost carrying him to the bathroom and he undressed as soon as got there, peeling the dirty clothes off of him like a snake would shed an old skin. Yoongi tried not to peak, busying himself with drawing the hot water and picking a bath bomb to tint it pink. He helped Jimin climb in, listened to him complain about how his entire body felt tender and painful, his joints aching with every bend and movement. He helped him wash and condition his hair, looked on patiently as he exfoliated and lathered himself in expensive lotion.

Jimin was gorgeous still even after the sickness took its toll on his body. He seemed thinner, paler and obviously weaker. He had a few faint bed sores on his back and a pimple appeared on his right buttock. Jimin was disgusted as he looked at himself in the full length mirror, overanalyzing and scrunching his nose at every single imperfection. Yoongi feared that he might destroy this mirror too and hurt himself so he offered him a fresh set of pajamas, silky and silvery and clean and dragged him out of the bathroom.

“You’re beautiful, you have nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not as beautiful as I can be. This is unacceptable.”

“Again, Jimin, you are sick.”

“I don’t get to be sick, don’t you understand? I must be perfect all the time, nothing less will do.”

“That’s extreme, nobody’s asking that of you …”

“My daddy deserves the very best. I must be the very best always or …”

“Or what? What’s he gonna do?”

“He’ll stop loving me.”

Yoongi bit back the venom that had gathered at the tip of his tongue. He was close to telling Jimin that Namjoon felt nothing for him, that he only kept him around as a plaything and that he was mistaking his temporary and conditioned kindness for something else, something that would never happen. Kim Namjoon could only ever love one man and he was not Jimin.

The blond sat at his vanity and began opening various expensive looking containers, carefully applying them one by one as if he was performing magic. He cleaned his face and exfoliated, applied a mask, toned and moisturized and primed and then brushed on a bit of makeup with skilled flicks and dusts. Soon enough he looked as if he was in perfect health, rosy cheeks and plump, dewy lips, whatever spell he had spun it worked.

“How could anyone not love you?” the words escaped him in a low whisper.

Jimin looked at him in the mirror, a curious glimmer in his eyes. He didn’t turn as he spoke.

“Daddy  found me in the trash, like a thrown away broken doll. He saw something in me, I don’t know what, but he saved my life and then kept me safe. How could I ever repay such a man? You think that what I do is excessive? I’ll never even come close to repaying him.”

Yoongi didn’t know much about Jimin. Not his family name, not exactly where he came from, he was already here when he began working for Namjoon, an already permanent fixture in the boss’s life. Jimin who graciously and silently followed him around everywhere, kneeling obediently and serving his owner shamelessly even in public, the little thing seemed like nothing more than a strangely beautiful pet at first. Yoongi knew however that he was much more than that. Jimin was cunningly smart, he watched him countless times whisper into the boss’s ear while at the gambling table, winning him round after round. He had a way of making himself seem non-threatening but Yoongi caught glimpses of the vixen pickpocketing bodyguards on many occasions and toying with butterfly knives and guns. He was a curious thing, always preoccupied with books and learning new things. He was also very talented, entertaining the casino’s unworthy patrons with his sweet voice on the rare occasions when Namjoon wanted to put him on display more than ever, shining on stage under the single spotlight in his diamonds and silk like something out of a dream. And Jimin was proud, proud of his looks and talents, proud of his position as the boss’s number one person, even higher then Yoongi himself but at the same time he was insecure, desperate for praise and reassurance under which he purred like a kitten. To Namjoon he was an obsession, a distraction from his true heartache. He treated Jimin like a porcelain doll, manically careful and overbearing, he controlled every aspect of the smaller’s existence. Or so he thought, Jimin seemed to always get his away in the end, one way or another.

“Saving your life doesn’t mean he owns it.”

“I want him to own me. Who else would want me? Who else would want to deal with someone like me? I was just some used and abused orphan that turned into a drug mule before daddy took me in. He found me bleeding to death next to a dumpster … I’m lucky enough to still call myself alive, let alone his.”

Jimin began furiously brushing his hair, parting it in the middle and then changing his mind and parting it to the side. He didn’t really understand his anger. Yoongi always managed to get on his nerves somehow, he never treated him like he was a superior, he talked about his daddy as if they were buddies, he was rude and brash and strange. The man that his daddy chose as his lieutenant, the man that cleans up other people’s mess and does the dirty work others don’t have the grit for. Perhaps it was in his nature to want to fix messes, Jimin had sometimes the impression that he wanted to fix him, clean him of something that made him dirty yet he couldn’t tell what exactly that was. Yoongi also had this other side to him that he shared only with him, this soft, vulnerable side that he showed whenever Jimin laid his hands on him. He had never made a man come apart and it was so addictive, the way Yoongi would writhe and moan and beg so sweetly, cry under blindfolds and spill on his white tummy with Jimin’s name on his lips. What Yoongi gave him nobody else in the world ever had, a unique gift that not even his daddy could offer him. Jimin thought that Yoongi loved him but he couldn’t figure out why.

“What would it take?”

“What would it take to what?”

“To make you stop wanting Kim Namjoon.”

“There’s nothing you could possibly give me for that to happen.”

“Yeah there is.”


“Freedom, baby, freedom.”


Hoseok was sweating profusely, the shirt stuck to his back and his bangs clung to his forehead, he was pissed off, kept shaking his legs under his desk and tapping his pen against the stack of reports he can’t seem to catch up with. He knows that these are just symptoms of withdrawal, that he’ll be fine once he gets a drink or two or five. But right now he couldn’t. Yoonji was watching him like a hawk from the desk across from his. She too was working against the current, typing away on her heated computer, eyes strained from staring at the screen for so long yet she was still vigilant, not a chance in hell for Hoseok to pour something into his coffee like he regularly would. He could of course sneak to the bathroom but last time he tried this trick she had found an excuse to get close to him and smelled the alcohol on his breath then proceeded to scold him for the rest of the day.  Hoseok felt bad about resenting her but he couldn’t help it, couldn’t handle the constant disappointment and judgement that was written all over her face. Yeah, he wasn’t the man she used to know, he wasn’t the bright Hobi she and her brother grew up with, not even a semblance was left of that person and Yoonji looked at him like he was an imposter, someone that only looked like Hoseok but wasn’t truly him. He felt nauseous and angry.

“Have you finished the summary on that shootout at the docks?” she asks while still typing.

“Yeah and I already added it to the useless pile. Surveillance footage is too grainy, even though we know who the people involved are we can’t prove shit.”

“And that boy that was murdered and mutilated?“

“Confirmed his identity and ties to the gun smuggling operation run by the lower Kim clan but with no murder weapon or suspects we again can’t prove shit.”

“What about that Italian chef that got strangled a couple of months back?”

“Family refused the autopsy and we have no leads.”

Yoonji huffed and leaned back into her chair, carding her fingers through her bangs and groaning in frustration.

“500 pages worth of information and we can’t make use of any of it …”

“We’re wasting time with this, Yoonji. We can’t do anything, the Kims are too powerful, they are covered on all fronts. They’ve got the media on their side, attorneys, politicians, shit, I’m sure they’ve even got cops on the payroll. We don’t stand a chance, just like we didn’t 4 years ago either …”

“Don’t say that, ok? We’ve been given a new chance …”

“This is not a chance, this is a distress signal! We should be working on an extraction mission not fumbling around with 500 pages worth of nothing!”

“Yoongi spent 4 years gathering this information! 4 years alone with the enemy while we treated him like he was one of them! We can’t let his work go to waste!”

“Fuck his work! And fuck the mission too and fuck the Kims and the Superintendent! All I want is Yoongi back in one piece!”

Hoseok was fuming at this point, knocking over his chair as he got up and started gathering his pack of cigs and the keys to his motorcycle. He needed to get out, needed to stop thinking about the stupid, useless files and the impossibility of getting his friend back. He ignored Yoonji calling after him as he stormed out, even slammed the door behind him for good measure. The other officers in the building mumbled as they got out of his way, the entire department both used to and endlessly annoyed by the short tempered agent that seemed to go off even more often than usual now that he was forced to work with the other Min on the same case that almost ended his life a few years ago. Hoseok was regarded with both disdain and sympathy by his fellow officers and this disgusted him, knowing that he was only tolerated out of pity.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the same number he thinks he knows by heart now.

“What’s up, angel?”

“Where are you?”

“Hongdae. Had another shit day?”

“Yeah. I’m coming to pick you up.”

“Okay, I got you a gift.”

Hoseok only knew him by the stage name of V and by the short nickname of Tae. Whether that came from Taeyang or Taemin or whatever other name he didn’t know which was ok because the boy only knew him as Hoseok though he almost only called him angel or baby.

Now the fact that he had gotten shitface drunk and then basically pressured into having gay sex still weighed heavily on his thoughts. He could still recall the feeling of his body being useless in refusing the boy’s advances and his mind too cloudy to properly comprehend things until after they had happened. But unfortunately he could also still recall the mindblowing pleasure he had felt and to which he got addicted. Much like with his drinking Hoseok decided to not dwell too much on it, it was not worth the headache. Besides, if bad things were to happen to him he more than deserved them.

Tae was hard to miss in a crowd. He found him easily not because he looked drop dead gorgeous in tight leather pants and matching jacket but because he also stood out on dizzyingly high heels and with a fluffy, puppy shaped backpack slung over one of his shoulders. Passerbies would ogle at him and few would snicker but the boy was so confident and aloof their judgment rolled off of him like water off a duck. He smiled when the bike pulled up next to him, engine still purring and he hopped on like it was no big deal, circling Hoseok’s waist a bit too tightly, snuggling into his back happily as they drove off, a bit over the speed limit.

Their arrangement was weird but not all that uncommon. Hoseok would say they were fuck buddies but like very secret fuck buddies, like nobody ever has to know kinda deal. Tae treated everything like his favorite new found hobby and he loved testing Hoseok’s limits, pushing and pulling to see how much he could get away with. Hoseok felt like he was being tamed by the younger, he constantly wanted to snap at him but at the same time craved his gentle whispers and touches. Truth was he honestly didn’t know how he felt about the whole affair and he tried to ignore the entire thing as much as possible.

Hoseok lived in a messy little apartment in the southern part of Seoul. It always smelled of tobacco and Old Spice and Tae always made fun of him for having such a man cave for a home. Yet every time he came by he would quickly toss his shoes off at the door, remove his clothes and lounge about in his lacy lingerie like he lived there. They didn’t always fuck, sometimes Tae would cook something simple for them and watch Hoseok get drunk and pass out on his lap. He would wake up to breakfast and a note, the boy was always gone by morning.

Today was no different, Tae haphazardly throwing his clothes around, his bralette and panties a dark shade of purple this time. He threw himself on the old sofa and told Hoseok to look in his backpack for his gift. It was a bottle of expensive whiskey.

“Did you lift this from the liquor store?”

“I’m a stripper not a thief. You’re welcome.”

Hoseok said nothing, just pulled out two mugs and poured a generous amount of the amber liquid into them. He was a drinker but not a fancy one. He handed one of the mugs to Tae, knowing that by the end of the evening he will have had 5 of these while the boy would hardly finish his. Hoseok flopped on the sofa as well, letting the younger snuggle to his side, absent mindedly caressing the exposed skin of his shoulders.

“Hard day, huh?”


“Wanna talk about it?”

“No, just wanna forget it …”

“I can make you forget …”

“Later… I’m too jittery.”

“I have something for that as well.”

“I don’t want meth.”

Tae flinched and looked up at Hoseok with worried eyes.

“Yeah, I saw you pour something in your drink last time and considering your work place I put two and two together. “

“I’m trying to get off of it …”

“It’s none of my business, I’m not judging you. I’m just saying I don’t want any.”

The boy said nothing more and sipped on the whiskey, making a face at the strong taste. Hoseok smiled a little, he found him cute.

“We gotta talk …”

“What about?”

“It’s been five months.”


“Since we hooked up.”


“You don’t even know my name.”


“It’s Taehyung.”

“Taehyung. Just Taehyung?”

The boy placed his mug on the low coffee table and turned to face a confused, wary Hoseok. He sighed, as if he was about to have a very difficult conversation.

“I guess it’s Kim.”

“You guess?”

Taehyung didn’t answer, just fixed his eyes on some invisible spot on the tattered old carpet on the floor.

“Kim Taehyung then. Ok.”

Suddenly the younger surged forward, pushing the mug of liquor from Hoseok’s lips and kissing him deeply, trying to make him forget the previous interaction. He straddled his lap and cupped his face, caressing the sharp cheekbones, grinding into him with practiced ease. The older however brushed his hands away and unclasped their lips.

“I told you I’m not in the mood.”

“You’ll get in the mood.”

Taehyung continued his attack, hands slipping downwards, unbuttoning Hoseok’s shirt as they travelled to his fly which he also quickly undid. There was a rush in his movements, a sort of panicked frenzy to get to familiar territory and Hoseok was confused, perhaps even a bit concerned but he just rolled with it, lifting himself to allow the younger to take his jeans off and underwear too, all in one go. He took his mug back and kept sipping on the whiskey as Taehyung latched on to his chest, caressing and suckling on his nipples until their perked up. Hoseok didn’t know if he began shivering because of the dancer’s ministrations or because of his withdrawal but he decided that whichever the case alcohol would help so he downed the rest of the liquid courage in one gulp, knocking his head back and cringing at the burning sensation. 

“Touch me, angel.”

Hoseok let his now empty mug fall somewhere on the sofa or floor and began caressing Taehyung’s lithe body, from his sharp hipbones to his flat chest, tracing the shadowy feel of his ribs and easing his fingers under the lacy brallette to play with his sensitive buds. He thought to himself as he often did that Taehyung would be a gorgeous girl. He remembers telling him so once a couple of months ago and he can still recall the sting of the slap he had received across the face. They argued terribly then, Hoseok unable to understand the offense and Taehyung fighting back tears, incapable of explaining his rage. They silently decided to gloss over it and never mention it again because neither of them was strong enough to break up.

Hoseok licked up from the boy’s navel to his collarbones, making him moan and grip his shoulders. He sucked a few hickeys into the side of his slender neck, adding to the already existing collection he always pretended not to see. Hoseok pretends he doesn’t see many things, not the bruises, not the cuts, not the obvious rope burns, he wills his mind to stay focused only on the other’s beauty, disregarding the flaws that hint at a cruelty he isn’t ready to face or acknowledge.

Taehyung stands up and teasingly hooks his fingers in the lace of his small pair of panties, smiling mischievously. He’s hard now, long slender cock pushing the delicate fabric, the tip of it standing out from the waistband , all pretty and pink and wet. Hoseok has a hard time admitting how much he loves the sight.

“Look what I have for you, baby. Do you want it?”

Yeah, he wants it, he wants it so much it makes his mouth water but no matter how many times they play this game Hoseok’s words die on the tip of his tongue and all he can do is nod dumbly. Taehyung giggles and pulls on the lace, hooking the waistband under his balls and stepping forwards, one hand reaching out to caress the older’s hair and the other holding on to the base of his cock.

“C’mon then, suck me off.”

Hoseok hated that commanding tone. Every time he hears it he wants nothing more than to slam the other against a wall and have him suck his cock instead but for some reason he never acts on it, just bites down the anger and the pride and slides down on his knees, fire burning in his eyes as he still does what he is told, wrapping his lips around the hot member, sloppily chocking and sucking, unexperienced still even after 5 months. Taehyung never complains. Sometimes he gives some instructions but pretty much lets Hoseok do what he wants, praising him gently and getting off on the idea that he finally has power over someone in this way.

“Mmm, that feels so good, angel. You’re getting better and better at this, aren’t you? Do you think about it often, hm? Ever catch yourself daydreaming about me in your mouth, fucking your throat like I’ll soon fuck your tight little ass?”

Hoseok does in fact daydream about it and his cheek redden in shame at being caught. He never admits it though, never explicitly talks about it, just texts Taehyung at random hours asking about his whereabouts, letting the other understand from his vague actions that he needs him, that he’s shamefully horny again when he should be working.

The blowjob doesn’t last long, Taehyung unable to focus much on it, still in a rush to get to the main course. He gently shoves the other off of him and back on to the sofa, spreading his legs and settling between them, eyes hungry and hands agitated, he caresses the insides of his thighs, making Hoseok keen before he deeps down and without any warning begins licking fat stripes over his puckered hole. Hoseok lets out a strangled moan, he becomes weak when the younger goes down on him, legs turning into jelly as he feels himself opening up, allowing that wicked tongue to dip in and wreak havoc on his senses.


“That’s right, baby. Now you know what name to scream when you come all over yourself.”

Taehyung looks around for the discarded bottle of lube they had tossed somewhere the other day and sure enough he finds it, not too far off, under a chair. He had to talk to Hoseok about his messiness at one point. He had to talk to Hoseok about a great many things at one point but he was not ready to do so today. He wanted to, he had all the intention to just lay out for him, explain himself as best as possible and take it from there but he had chickened out. Talking was difficult, opening Hoseok on his fingers was not. And the older took them easily, starting straight with two and moving on to three in a matter of minutes.

“Look at you, so loose and sloppy. I fuck you so often you don’t even need preparation anymore, bet I can bend you over and just slam into you, no problem. I’m starting to wonder if soon I’ll even be able to feel anything anymore.”

“Shut up…”

The shirt he had left on hung open and clung to his back, Hoseok was again sweating like in the dead of summer. He felt like his insides were burning and not just from the drag of the dancer’s fingers inside him, it was as if he was suddenly overcome with fever. He needed something to distract him, he wished he could have kept on drinking but he also craved Taehyung, craved him desperately but as always words failed him, humiliation too great for him to open his mouth and voice his desires, beg for release.

Taehyung rose from his spot on the floor and grabbed hold of Hoseok’s legs, hiking them up and aligning his dripping cock with the twitching entrance.

“Do you want this, angel? Tell me honestly.”

“Taehyung …”

“Tell me you want this, tell me you want me to fuck you.”

“Just… please…”

“I didn’t ask you to beg, I just need to know this is what you want.”

“It is … it is…”

Taehyung didn’t press any further, just bit his bottom lip and sunk in in one swift go, bottoming out with a shudder. Hoseok was tight, always so tight and hot and he never could control himself once inside, bucking into him fast and aggressive, wet slapping sounds filling the room for a few minutes until moans and cries covered them and bounced off the walls instead. Most times their coupling was accompanied by the steady clammer of the neighbor lady banging on the wall in complaint.

And it was always so good, ever since their first time they were able to just lose themselves when together, mindlessly rutting and giving into the overwhelming pleasure. For Taehyung it was the first time he was able to feel in control and like it, he was sure of his movements, sure of his actions, he loved giving Hoseok everything, loved making him drool in ecstasy, hanging limply in his arms afterwards, Taehyung felt alive and real, felt like himself at last, free of the constant shadow of who he was and what he had done. Hoseok didn’t know, Hoseok didn’t ask, he accepted him without context, let him occupy his space, let him settle inside his body like a new set of bones. The two moved to a rhythm of their own creation. But as much as Hoseok was willing to ignore all of Taehyung’s flaws, Taehyung was not as forgiving.

Hoseok wasn’t hard. This happened more and more often it became more and more frustrating for the both of them. At first Hoseok was able to get it up with enough attention and stimulation but then he had to resort to pathetically jerk it off while Taehyung was pounding him and now he just lets it be, closing his eyes, not wanting to see if his partner was looking down on him in disgust or disappointment. Taehyung felt neither, just anger.

“Why do you keep closing your eyes? You used to not be able to look away from me …”

“I just… can’t…”

Taehyung slows his maddening pace and reaches for the coffee table, snagging the bottle of whiskey off of it and taking a swing, letting the alcohol sit in his mouth a little before swallowing. He does it again and then pour some onto his heated chest, the amber liquid quickly dripping down, making him reek of alcohol and sex. Taehyung leans in, catches Hoseok’s lips and licks into his mouth, letting him taste his favorite poison on his tongue.

“Do you like me better now? Would you look at me if I were a bottle of liquor? Would you love me if I had been distilled into existence rather than born?”

“Stop…Just… shut up!”

“I met you drunk and I fucked you drunk but I’ll be damned if I’m going to love you drunk!”

Taehyung pulls out and tosses the bottle against the wall, smashing it to pieces. He immediately begins to pull on his clothes, fingers uncertain as fury bubbles under his skin.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Hoseok shouts, struggling to stand up from the couch, vision blurry and stomach coiled.

“I’m leaving! And I don’t want to hear from you again until you’ve fucking sobered up!”

“So now you have a problem with my drinking? What’s next, are you gonna berate my eating habits? Buy me nicotine patches, make me fold my clothes?”

“Fuck you!”

“Fuck you! I don’t need to hear this shit from some crossdressing prostitute!”

“And I don’t need to waste my time with some has been beat cop!”

Hoseok froze, grip tight on the back of the sofa he was using to keep himself upright. His eyes widen in fear and he moves towards Taehyung but his balance is precarious and ends up holding on to furniture with both hands.

“How the fuck…”

“Your badge fell outta your pants once. Special Agent Jung Hoseok.”

“Don’t you ever dare utter a word about this to anybody or I swear I’ll twist your neck and snap it like a twig!”

“Really? Threats? Is this all you have to say to me? Are you that afraid of coming out?”

“I’m not gay, you piece of shit!”

“What kind of repressed bullshit are you…?”

“Get out! Get out of my house, you fucked up faggot! Get out!”

Taehyung suddenly grabs his mug off the coffee table and swings it towards Hoseok, managing to clock him in the forehead. Before the other can come to and kick his ass he quickly puts his stilettos on and leaves, door slammed behind him, the sharp clicks of his retreating steps echoing down the hallway.




When Jungkook woke up the first thing he felt was a stabbing pain in his head. He groaned, remembering how he stupidly downed whatever Jin had given him without daring to question him. He tried to put his hand on his forehead to somehow sooth the pain and that’s when he realized that he couldn’t move much. He opened his eyes, entire body jolting in panic when he couldn’t see anything in the pitch black darkness. His hands moved in a frenzy around himself, trying desperately to get a sense of where he was and he soon came to the conclusion that he was locked in a very tight confinement, so much so that he couldn’t even bend his knees or extend his arms to the sides, almost as if … He was in a coffin. 

Jungkook gasped and then let out a whimper, fear making way to sheer panic. He didn’t even know if his eyes were closed or open, he fumbled around as much as he could, searchingly blindly for a handle or something that could open the box he was in so that he could escape but he found nothing of the sorts. He got a few splinters in the palms of his hands from the cheap out of his encasing and he began crying. He was going to die all alone in the dark, suffocated.

Suddenly he was startled by the loud ring of his cellphone and he quickly moved to remove from his pocket, the grating light of the screen welcomed. Jin was calling him.

“Help! Master Kim, help me! I’ve been … I’ve been …”

“Buried alive, Jungkookie. I know, I was the one that put you in the coffin.” came the ever calm and pleasant voice. Jungkook whimpered, he couldn’t believe the betrayal. His heart ached painfully.


“Because I decided to give you a chance. You want to be my lieutenant, my most important person, well, for that, you need to prove yourself. And I’m not talking about running errands or killing people for me, no, no. What I need is for you to die and be reborn again, Kookie. I need that lazy, whiny, rebellious little boy to die and a real man to be born. Someone that can execute my orders without hesitation, someone that would live and breathe for me and me alone. Do you understand, Jungkook?”

“Yes… Yes, Master Kim …” the younger answers in a small, shaky voice.

“Can you do it, Jungkook?”

“I don’t know… I don’t think so …”

“You either rise from the grave for me or die a failure like you were born. You have one hour of oxygen left. Make you decision.”

The click of the call ending and the deathly silence that follows it make Jungkook forget how to breathe. He soon remembers how to and at the same he’s now hyper aware of the air he is consuming. Tears are still falling down his cheeks and down towards his ears and hairline. He turns on his phone’s flashlight and starts truly taking in the fact that he is in a coffin, the small space so strange yet somehow familiar. He’s seen coffins before but of course never from the inside. He expected it to be softer, with like a small pillow and a veil on top of him but this was a very cheap one, the boards and nails that made it up very obvious. Jungkook finds that this could be an advantage. He’s seen Kill Bill and even though he wasn’t some character in a movie with insane powers, he was still a fairly strong guy.

Jungkook takes in a deep breath and plans on making it count, forming a fist with his dominant hand and delivering the strongest punch he could given the limited space he had to the top of the coffin. Immediately he wails in pain, dropping the phone and clutching his badly scrapped and bleeding hand. It hurt so badly, especially when trying to unclench his fist. Shit. He broke a knuckle or two and didn’t even make a dent in the wood. The hopelessness of the situation brought fresh tears to his eyes.

He remembers being young back in school, his classmates having trapped him inside his locker like they’ve seen bullies do on American movies. Then too he pounded uselessly on the metal door, bruising his hands and spraining his fingers in his desperation to get out. The claustrophobic space made him panic and scream, all to the amusement of his tormentors, little shitheads with nothing better to do than to torture the class wimp. When they finally let him out Jungkook had wet himself, providing humiliation fodder for the rest of his school days until his graduation.

Jungkook was so angry with himself for his stupidity. Had he not learnt anything from the tiring physics lessons? He was buried under at least 6 feet of heavy dirt, the pressure distributed evenly on the lid of the coffin. He couldn’t just punch his way through. He needed to find a weak spot first, crack that one first to relieve some of the pressure.

He felt around for the phone and once he had found it, placed it on his chest, flashlight up so that he could better look for a solution. The parts where the nails were visible were probably the strongest, Jungkook figured, trying to picture the way in which a simple coffin could have been made. Four boards side by side and three across, at the top, middle and bottom he guessed. No chances of breaking the wood with his bare hands there …

Then he got an idea and reached down for his belt, unbuckling it and lifting his waist as much as he could to eventually slip it free. Thank fuck for vanity! Jungkook usually spent half of the money Jin provided him with each month on fine clothing and accessories, partly to impress the mafia leader and partly because he really wanted to indulge himself and feel important at last. His belt was Gucci and had cost him 500 USD, now worth every penny spent because the dobble G of the buckle was made of brass, just like the knuckles he knew for a fact could crush skulls if he delivered the hits with enough strength. The only problem was that he had injured his dominant hand so he had to do everything with his left.  

He remembers the first time he had ever went to the gym, awkwardly moving past the bulky men lifting half of their body weight’s worth to get on the unfamiliar equipment and begin unsurely his unscripted workout routine. He walked up to a punching bag with no gloves or protection and scrapped his knuckles silly while taking out his entire adolescent rage upon the stiff material. A few years later he should have known better but Jungkook guesses he’s still learning.

Only that he feels like his learning time is up, that now is the moment to step up and prove himself. His entire future is 6 feet above him and he must crawl his way towards it or die trying.  Jungkook loops the belt around his left hand and steady himself, settling on a spot just between two boards above his chest. He breathes in and delivers a short but strong punch. His hand hurts but he’s not wounded so he tries again and again until he starts sweating and panting. Eventually he hears a crack and a thin line of dust starts sipping through the crack. Jungkook giggles like a madman, hope making his heart beat faster, adrenaline spiking through him as he continues to hit the lid of the wooden coffin. Soon enough the crack widens and the boards snap a little under the pressure of all the dirt on top that starts pouring in. Jungkook sweeps it off of him and kicks it to the side. He tries prying the boards apart and they snap, startling the already panicked boy. He hastily begins pushing the dirt from himself and tries to move up a little.

Some of it falls into his eyes and mouth and Jungkook twists to the side, coughing and choking and spitting while his eyes burn. He blinks and can feel the grit under his eyelids making his eyes water painfully. He rubs at them insistently not sure if he’s helping or makeing it worse. After a few excruciating moments he is able to see again, albeit blurrily.

Jungkook now fears suffocation more than ever. He could either get crushed under earth or get sand and soil into his lung and choke to death. He needs some sort of barrier, something to cover his eyes and mouth and nose…

He suddenly gets an idea and wastes no time contemplating its efficiency. He can already feel himself getting dizzy from the depleted level of oxygen in the now half collapsed coffin. He shuffles and struggles until he managed to take his shirt off, breathes in as deeply as he can and covers his entire head with it.

He can’t see anymore and he needs to hurry. Now or never, he begins desperately clawing at the dirty, pushing and kicking it aside until he can half sit up. He grazes his arms and torso on the broken lid, the sting egging him on, he feels like swimming in molasses. Instinctively he tries gulping for air but there is no air around him, just heavy earth and darkness. Jungkook fights on for what seems like an eternity.

He wants to reach the surface, wants the new life that awaits him up there. He is dying and being created anew at the same time. In his rapidly beating and aching heart he says goodbye to his coldhearted family, his painful and embarrassing past and his cowardly self.

Jungkook feels cold around his pulsingly painful right hand and that’s when he knows he’s close. His lungs are burning, his body screaming at him for air, mind hazy and heavy, Jungkook uses the last of his strength to haul himself up.

The weight that was pressing on his shoulders vanishes and he rushes to tear the shirt off of his face, gulping in air. He coughs and wheezes, eyes stinging from tears. Jungkook feels a warm hand on his cheek lifting his face up.

The first thing he sees after he barely escaped death is Kim Seokjin’s smiling face.

“Welcome home, Kim Jungkook.”




Chapter Text

When Yoonji trodded back to the coffee maker  she noticed two things: one, her teammates had left the station earlier because it was a Friday evening so fuck work and two, one of them had stuck a post-it note to her mug with a phone number and a poorly drawn eggplant under it. She crumpled the note, tossed it into the recycle bin and poured herself some stale coffee which she heated up in the noisy, old microwave the entire department was using for years now. Really, you would expect better working conditions from one of the biggest divisions in the country or at least better officers.

Ever since the case had been open it had mostly been Yoonji and Hoseok working on it, the 4 other officers designated to their squad begrudgingly doing a few tasks every now and again. They hadn’t been able to restart the old operation and conduct it as a still ongoing undercover mission which meant that they had none of the benefits that came with working with a team of special agents under the guidance of the NIS. Instead they had a few desks and a corkboard and the blessing of the Sup.

The coffee tasted like death and the sugar only seemed to add to that effect. Yoonji scrunched her nose in distaste but mixed in some powdered creamer and returned to her desk. She is a Min, for fuck’s sake, she will drink coffee.

Checking her phone she had no replies from Hoseok so she assumed the jerk had passed out drinking again. Her fist clenched in a short spike of anger and not for the first time felt the impulse to just go and drag the man to AA herself. To be honest dealing with Hoseok was exhausting for her.

He hadn’t seen her since she was in highschool but she had seen him once since without his knowledge and that was when she had visited him in hospital after getting shot during the sting that went bad four years ago. He had been sleeping at the time and was unaware of her visit and she hadn’t stayed for long either, just needed to see that he was alive, just needed to see what her brother had done. Not a week after Hoseok’s hospitalization Yoonji had signed up for the police academy.

And yeah, maybe she once had a crush on Hoseok ever since she was a little girl because who else could it have been? Her overbearing father didn’t allow any other boys near her but for the upstanding son of his best friend who of course, inevitably, became the best friend of his own son. Yoonji however knew that Hoseok wasn’t exactly an angel. Growing up Hoseok had been a natural leader, warm and caring but always in charge, always the one to pick the games they’d play or the places they’d head to on their bikes, he would be the one to ask for permission to go to the movies or have sleepovers or ask for pocket money, he’d always be the one to speak up, apologize on the group’s behalf and offer to take the punishment for their every now and again misdeeds. In contrast to her silent, often grumpy and sometimes lazy and subdued brother, Yoonji found Hoseok to be charming, alive and funny. Soon enough she was blushing when he talked and giggling when he smiled. She glossed over many things like Hoseok stealing liquor from his father’s mini bar and secretly smoking behind the bleachers at school. When he kissed her she could smell Dunhill on his breath and she clung to his studded leather jacket, dizzy and cheeks burning hot red. That same evening Yoongi stormed into her room angry and shouting.

“Stay the fuck away from Seokie, you evil midget!”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want! You can’t tell me what to do!”

They both got grounded when their father heard the foul words they were throwing at each other. That weekend they were on cleaning duty and it was while they were cleaning out rotten leaves and gunk from their house’s roof drain pipes that Yoongi came out to her.

“I’m sorry, Yoons, I didn’t know.”

“No, it’s ok… I’m sorry too … for calling you an evil midget.”

“I’m taller than you …”

“By one inch!”

“One inch and a half!”

“Well I’ll grow while I’m at the academy! You’ll see!”

Yoonji never pursued Hoseok again, told him she kissed him out of curiosity and that it meant nothing, never even mentioned the fact that it had been her first kiss. Yoongi never confessed to Hoseok even though he wanted to on several occasions. He told her that he was afraid of ruining their friendship. Years passed and now here she was, chasing after the brother she had loved more than herself with the help of her first love that has become a short tempered drunkard.

Sometimes she thinks that she should have seen this coming, that there had always been something in Yoongi that seemed ready to snap, a storm always there behind his calm, sleepy demeanor, just like there had always been something rotten in Hoseok’s character, something foul that plagued his otherwise kind heart. Yoonji at times didn’t recognize herself either. “Who are you anymore?” her father had asked the day she had cut off her long locks and packed her duffel bag, hitching a ride to an academy a few counties over where her name wasn’t immediately associated with her brother’s reputation. She is still asking herself that question today.

“Still here?”

The voice came from her right and snapped Yoonji from her thoughts. The Superintendent was leaning against her desk, smiling patiently at her.

“Yes, Sir. My team left early so …”

“They don’t help you much, do they?”

“They always do what I ask them to do without faults, Sir.”

“You don’t have to cover for them, Min, I know what type of people they are. They wrote your phone number in one of the men’s bathroom stalls.”


“I was thinking of taking them off the case. They are just regular officers, they don’t have yours or Jung’s training, they can’t handle this mission.”

“But, Sir, that would leave just me and Ho…agent Jung.”

“I could bring in specialized agents but I don’t have the reason to. We couldn’t reopen the undercover mission because we don’t have proof that Min is still an active agent undercover and I can’t keep this mission going for much longer either because all your reports and leads based on the evidence we received turned out inconclusive. We need to establish a special operations division but I’m afraid I can’t do that unless at least one arrest is made based on the information we have.”

“But we can’t do anything without warrants, Sir! We’ve been following the men on the list we’ve got for months now but they are not stupid to do things in public spaces and we can’t search their homes or vehicles without warrants!”

“I can’t give you warrants because we have no valid suspicions.”

“But, Sir …”

“I know, it’s frustrating. Believe me, it drives me insane to see you here night after night pouring over those files over and over again and coming up empty every time even though it’s plain as daylight that those men are guilty. We need more proof than those files provide. I’m sorry,  Yoonji, until we have an arrest my hands are tied.”

“What happens if we don’t make an arrest in the next few weeks?”

The Superintendent looked at her, his face unmoving and said nothing. Yoonji understood plenty from his silence. Eventually he spoke, moving away from her desk with a sigh.

“Go home, Min, get some sleep for once! That’s an order!”


Yoonji didn’t feel like going home honestly, she didn’t feel like anything that wasn’t related to work but she found herself on her scooter, hair tickling her cheeks where it peaked from beneath her baby blue helmet. She liked colors, ok? She liked colors and had a sweet tooth and found skirts to be comfortable and cute and she still had her old Kumamon plushie that she kept on her bed, the same one that was a match for her brother’s and with which they used to play as kids. Yoonji had to toughen up though, had to get strong and learn to play rough because if life as an agent had been rough for Yoongi then it would be hell for her.

Yoonji drifted for a while, the city lights pretty and sparkling, the town full of lively people out to have fun as the weekend finally begins. But soon enough she realized she was heading towards an address she had memorized but never actually visited and before she could question herself any further she was knocking on the door of 18-2. Hoseok answered with a groan but surprise quickly showed on his face.

“Yoonji, what happened?”

“Nothing, just … can’t I visit you?”

“No, sure you can. It’s just…unexpected. Umm… come in. Sorry, it’s a mess, I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

It was a mess, dusty and a bit chaotic but nothing as bad as Yoonji had imagined. She gingerly took off her shoes and tried not to blush when she remembered that she was wearing pineapple socks. Hoseok said nothing about them, just shuffled to the kitchen to make tea, telling her to have a seat. She did, at the counter, awkwardly looking around.

“What happened to your forehead?” she asked in the end.

“Oh … I … bumped it. Wasn’t paying attention. Chamomile?”

“Yeah. With honey! If you’ve got any …”

“I do. Still have a sweet tooth, I see.”

“Still have a big mouth, I see.”

Hoseok chuckled and pulled out the last 2 mugs he owned, looking at them oddly before pouring the tea and bringing a jar of honey and a spoon to the counter where Yoonji was, seating himself across from her on the other side.

“Sup said we need to make an arrest otherwise he’s shutting us down.” she said.

“That comes as no surprise. I told you we were wasting our time with those damn files.”

“You don’t think Yoongi sent them?”

“I don’t care if Yoongi sent them. As far as I’m concerned he’s lost his damn mind and we need to get him out of there. Fuck the Kims, I don’t care if they burn the entire country down, I just want him back.”

Yoonji said nothing, just began carefully sipping her tea. It was hot and it burnt her upper lip a bit making her blink fast.

“You still care about him.”

“Of course I care about him. He’s my brother too. Not by blood but by everything else.”

“He loved you, you know.”

Yoonji looked at Hoseok trying to give more weight to her words, to make him understand what she meant. Hoseok met her gaze and sighed.

“I couldn’t love him back then, not like that. He never told me but I knew, I could tell and it freaked me out. I was too much of a mess, I still am and Yoongi deserves so much better than me. And I guess it’s far too late now to tell you this but fuck it, Yoonji, I need to apologize to you as well for back then when you were just starting high school and I led you on. That was a jerk move and I’m sorry, I was just trying to prove to myself that I wasn’t… you know…”


“Bi or gay or whatever…”


Hoseok stared into his tea like there was mercy somewhere at the bottom of his mug. Yoonji nibbled at her burnt lip, trying to sooth the sting but she couldn’t.

“Have you … sorted that out since then?”

“Kinda …I’m still working on it.”

After finishing her tea in big gulps Yoonji took a spoonful of honey and licked it clean. Hoseok smiled at her fondly and pulled out some Nutella from fridge, prompting her to unleash a storm upon him for keeping it there like some heathen. She ate it straight from the jar and he joined her too albeit using a bigger spoon.

“ So ... We still have one lead we haven’t checked.”

“Ugh, why are you so stubborn?!”

“I’m a Min, remember? Anyways, we still have those weird landscape photos.”

“It’s just pictures of woods and shit, backroads, what nots. Haven’t we already sent Dumb and Dumber to check them out?”

“And do you actually trust the investigative skills of the famed Chanbaek duo?”

“Even they can investigate deserted landfills and hiking tracks.”

Yoonji hummed and licked clean her spoon with a satisfied cat grin.

“They wrote my phone number in the men’s stalls.”

“Say what?”

“Yeah, Sup told me.”

“Ok, first off, Sup’s definitely got a thing for you and secondly Imma break their necks.”

“Don’t, they’re just jerks and you already have one too many strikes for bad behavior. I can’t lose my main investigator.”

Yoonji slaps away Hoseok’s hand before he can dunk his spoon in the jar again and takes out a big scoop for herself.

“Do you really think the Sup likes me?”

“Oh yeah, I heard him refer to you as Yoonji-ya in like a cute voice like oh, Yoonji-ya is so hardworking, she’ll get promoted soon, ah, that girl Yoonji-ya is an example to everyone in the force. It’s kinda cringey, he’s older than me! Bet you two would be one of those disgusting power couples that scare everybody around them but are all lovey dovey with each other.”

“Hmm, like the Kims used to be?”

“Fuck the Kims. Don’t laugh, I’m serious. If I ever get the chance to be around either of them I’ll kill them on the spot.”

“Don’t. They are not worth you spending your life in prison for. We’ll get them somehow. We’ll take down everything they’ve built. For Yoongi and not just for him.”

One last spoonful of sickeningly sweet chocolate and Yoonji stands to leave, heading to the hallway to put her shoes on. Hoseok follows her, warmth in his eyes as he watches her double tie the bow of her converse.

“As for the Sup, she trails off the initial conversation, he’s hot but I’m not looking for a relationship.”

“Too bad, you look like you could use a good lay.”

“Pig. What good does fucking around do?”

“Clears your head I guess.”

“Oh, really? Did it clear up yours?”

“I guess it did, I was signing up for AA when you knocked.”

Yoonji’s mouth drops open cutely in surprise and Hoseok chuckles, running his fingers through his hair nervously. She looks at him expecting him to say it was a joke but the disappointment doesn’t come and she almost tears up, getting on her tip toes to hug the man for the first time in years, honestly and openly and tightly.

“Do the whole program, you hear? she says into the crook of his neck. Get clean and stay that way.”

“I will, he says in a whisper, kissing the top of her head. I promise, I will.”

Eventually she puts her jacket on and steps out, him waving her goodbye with a twinkle in his eyes.

“See you tomorrow, oppa!”

Hoseok blushes to the roots of his hair and slams the door in her face, prompting her to throw her head back in laughter. She was happy, truly and continued giggling as she walked up to her scooter and began adjusting her helmet.

Suddenly she realized she had nowhere to be, unused to leaving work so early the night was still young and she had no clue of what to do. Well, there was of course Hoseok’s suggestion …


Yoonji was not a girl that went to bars alone. Yoonji was not a girl that went to bars with others in general really. For all the shit she had given Yoongi his whole life about being a loner and never hanging out in places other than Hoseok’s favorite pub she was not much different. She used to fancy herself a popular girl because that’s what she was in highschool : an overachiever, pretty and soft, daddy’s spoiled princess through and through, the type that would have slumber parties with over 10 guests, the type that would have her locker covered in roses and cards each White Day, the type that was both prom queen and school council president. Then one day she cut her hair short and joined the force, effectively alienating her father, her extended family and all of her former highschool friends.

So when cruising around town looking for a place where she could get a drink and lose herself in a crowd she didn’t know what to pick exactly. She knew that she had drifted into the heart of the upper Kim clan’s turf and she feared randomly spotting a gang member not because any of them knew her to be a cop, they didn’t, but she felt that with booze in her system she might do something reckless. Yoonji passed by the infamous Sugar Glider, giving it a long stare before eventually settling on a smaller bar nearby that looked like a hot spot for all the people that were denied access in the previous location. She parked outside and didn’t even bother to fix her hair before walking inside, immediately met with a wall of sweaty, dancing bodies and the steady thrum of a low bass.

She didn’t like the noise but the place allowed for anonymity and the bar was stocked full of any type of liquor she could possibly want. She plopped herself on the tall bar stool with a bit of effort, feet not touching the ground anymore and confidently winked the bartender over.

“Hey cutie, what can I get ya?”

“Something strong but sweet. Like me.” she laughed.

“Hmm, that’s one deadly combination.” the bartender answered, leaning over the shiny countertop of the bar towards her.

“Get her a Zombie.” a voice came from her left. Yoonji turned to see that a young man had plopped himself in the seat right next to hers and seemed to have been eavesdropping on her. He was … young, first of all, though he tried to hide his age, parting his hair to the side, sitting like a peacock, leaning on the bar, legs spread. And he was incredibly handsome, muscles clear with the way his dress shirt and dark jeans hugged him, strong thighs and bulging biceps. A Rolex was shining blindingly on his wrist and Yoonji knew he was a fuckboy.

“Get us two.” she said and turned in her seat to face him. The bartender backed off, clearly displeased. “How old are you?”

“Old enough.” he answers.

“Yeah, old enough to be calling me noona.”

“I’ll call you whatever you want so long as you ask nicely.”

Yoonji scoffs. He laughs and she notices he’s got bunny teeth. Cute. Cute and hot, just her luck. The drinks come only moments later, bright orange and looking completely non-threatening. They clink their glasses, toasting to nothing in particular and Yoonji takes a serious swing of her drink, enjoying the sweet citrusy taste before her face turns red in surprise and she coughs.

“You said you wanted something sweet and strong.” the boy chuckles.

“Fuck … Wow, it’s good.” Yoonji actually likes it and downs the rest of it minutes. The boy doesn’t let himself fall behind and follows in her steps. They order another round.

“Are you waiting for someone or…?” he begins unsure.

“Nah, I’m on my own. Just looking for a good time. You?”

“Same. I’m sort of celebrating something.”

“On your own?”

“It’s a personal thing, doubt anyone would get it so I’d rather just celebrate by myself.”

“One man party?”

“Doesn’t have to be a one man party … I could allow one VIP in.”

“Oh?” Yoonji smirks at his cockiness. “I was going to have a one girl party outside after I finish this drink. I do have one exclusive invitation to offer. But if you’d rather stay here and do your own celebrating I understand.” And with that she knocks the rest of her cocktail back and hops off the stools, trying her best not to wobble and sexily make her retreat through the ever moving crowd of dancers. The boy swears under his breath, tosses the money for the drinks in the bartender’s general direction and runs after her.

Yoonji is now a bit drunk. She had planned on getting tipsy, that’s true but she ended up with more than she had bargained for. Still, Hoseok’s words rung in her head and yeah, it had been a while since she’s been with anyone. She was a difficult person, she figured, bossy, demanding, none of her lovers ever stuck around so at one point life took over and she stopped bothering to look.

But bunny fuckboy was cute and bunny fuckboy was hot and Yoonji deserved a break, she deserved a night of reckless fun, she knew well enough that the next day would be nothing more than more long hours of work and bullshit and heartache. So she was going to enjoy herself tonight.

The cool air outside the club was refreshing and she inhaled deeply, leaning against the brick wall in the dimly lit, unpopulated back alley. She looked up hoping to see stars, spotted one glimmering point but that was all, the city too bright for stars to be visible. She sighed but smiled when the slam of the door was heard not far to her right and soon enough she was being caged by to strong arms and a solid, tall frame.

“That invitation still available?”

“Hmm… Yeah, but you’ve barely made it.”

He leaned down, a lot actually and captured her lips in a sloppy kiss that was more teeth than tongue. Yoonji kissed back relentlessly, hands gripping the boy’s shoulders, nails digging into them, he groaned and she smirked, breaking the kiss. He didn’t care much, attacking her neck instead and beginning to knead on one breast while the other awkwardly tangled in her hair. Yoonji could tell that he was a beginner so she guided his hand under her shirt and bra, the boy keening when he felt the warm, soft mold of her breast and the perky rise of her nipple. She reached down, caressing his torso and feeling the ridges of his abs under his shirt, making her hot and she kept trailing lower until she reached his crotch, unceremoniously cupping him and feeling his long, hard length. He groaned once more and she couldn’t contain her giggles. 

“Ah, just my luck…Am I gonna go to jail because of you, hm?

“I’m eighteen …” he answered offended.

“Eighteen … ever eaten pussy before?”

“Yeah.” He was lying and she could tell so she giggled some more, hurriedly unbuttoning her jeans and lowering them just to her knees. She wasn’t wearing any fancy panties, just regular dusty pink ones that did nothing to cover the fact that she was getting wet as the darker pink wet spot obviously proved.

“Go on then, bunny, make noona feel good.”

He quickly crouched and pulled her panties down, unsure what to do with his hands afterwards. He looked at her and seemed surprised for a second. Yoonji rarely shaved so her vulva was covered in soft, wispy dark hairs that she kept trimmed. She wanted to instruct him further, snap him out of his dumbfoundness but he acted before she got the chance, long fingers carefully parting her lips. She canted her hips and spread her legs a bit to give him better access. For lack of better ideas he dived right in, tongue darting out and licking fat stripes from her hole to her clit.

He was sloppy and unskilled but clearly enthusiastic. She could tell the second he had gotten a taste of her juices as he moaned shamelessly into her folds, licking faster. Yoonji gripped his hair and tried to stir him where she needed it most. The boy to his credit quickly caught on and started sucking on her clit, earning a breathy yes for his effort.

They went on like that for a while, wet slurping noises mixing with her occasional groaning and his high pitched adorable moans.

“You’re so sweet, she told him, acting all cocky and then falling apart as soon as you get a taste of me … And you’re doing so well … Such a good boy … Give me your fingers, yeah? Let me see what you can do …”

He obeyed with a whine, still licking manically at her now sensitive clit as he shoves two fingers into her dripping wet hole. She yelps and yanks his hair painfully until his head is forced back and he looks up at her with big, confused eyes.

“Go. Easy.” she threatens and he nods innocently, resuming his ministrations as soon as her grip loosens enough to allow him to.

He moves his fingers carefully, licking gently, making the slide wet, pace steady and not too fast. After a while he experimentally curves his fingers and Yoonji finally moans, thighs closing around the boy’s shoulders. She can feel his smile against her core, knows that he is proud of his achievement. After that he keeps his fingers curled upwards and his pace quickens. Yoonji eggs him on with her moans and the involuntary tremble of her legs. He resumes sucking on her clit and she throws her head back in pleasure, she was finally feeling that familiar heat pooling in her guts, making her tighten her body, clench around his fingers and gush slick. She was getting close.

“Noona…” she hears him whine against her dripping pussy. “Noona, are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yeah, baby, fuck, don’t stop, you’re doing so well, making noona feel so good …”

The young one preens at the praise and attacks her core like starved man. He holds her open with one hand while he pumps the fingers of the other at a maddening speed which he matched with his wicked tongue. He’s keening needyly in his throat and Yoonji grips his hair tightly again, moving her hips and pushing herself closer to him. She cusses and cums, clenching and spasming around the boy’s fingers, thighs trembling, whole body shivering from the pleasure. He laps at her gently, helping her ride her high before carefully removing his fingers and falling on his bum on the ground, uncaring.

Yoonji opens her eyes, looks up and laughs. She can see stars now. They’re fading but she can see them. After a beat she pulls up her panties and jeans and smiles at the boy sitting on the cold concrete.

“Get up, silly. I think I should return the favor.”

“No, you don’t have to … I’ve … It’s ok.”

She yanks him up by his arms, the boy easily following her, standing unsteadily. Yoonji looks into his big doe eyes and that’s when it hits her.

“Oh, bunny boy, did you cum in your pants?”

He blushes angry red to the tips of his ears, immediately looking away.

“Aw, that’s so cute! Did I pop your pussy eating cherry? Is that it?”

“Shut up!”

She giggles. Oh what a night!

“Give me your number, she demands, whipping her phone from her jacket’s inner pocket. No way am I letting this unfinished. Tell me.” He obediently dictates his number and texts him her own. After that she pecks him on his nose, tells him to be good and call her sometime soon.


Yoonji is still giddy by the time she reaches her scooter. She really shouldn’t be riding right now but she feels better, the fresh air did her good. Weirdly enough she still wants to see a night sky full of stars, she looks up disappointedly. She hops on, securing her helmet and drives off to the outskirts of the city.

By the time she realizes where she is headed it’s too late to turn back. She can feel it, that clarity Hoseok had mentioned, she can feel it like the answer to a complicated puzzle right when you’re about to put in the last pieces.

There’s a clearing not too far in the shallow woods outside the main road that leads back to town. She takes her torch out of her storage compartment and the place looks horror movie worthy, dark and damp and deserted. There are stars above though, Yoonji is happy with that and she can hear the rustle of night birds in the trees. She circled the small clearing a few times, unsure then she makes up her mind, crouching and pulling out her pocket knife, holding the torch between her teeth as she begins digging.

She goes at it like in a trance for half an hour, many thoughts running through her head at the same time. She’s sweating from the effort but she’s sure of something, so sure she can almost taste it.

Then it happens. She feels something hard. Could be a rock but it’s too long. She pulls at it, unearths it and shines the strong light of her torch on what is without a doubt a human bone.




Chapter Text

Sundays were supposed to be slow days and Jin had every intention of honoring that. He slept in, ignoring his alarm and the soft knocks on his door, laying on his dusty pink silk sheets ‘til around 10. When he grew hungry he called downstairs and asked to have his breakfast served in bed. His maid came in, hesitant and eyes glued to the floor,20 minutes later, heavy tray full of ripe fruits and fresh eggs and bacon and toast. She carefully placed it on Seokjin’s lap and was about to retreat when the man asked her to fetch him his tablet so that he can catch up on the news while eating.

“Of course, Master Kim.”

Jin remembers that her name was Sooyoung but he asks just to be sure.

“Yes, Master, my name’s Sooyoung.”

“Ah, good, I was beginning to worry that I’m growing old enough to forget the staff’s names. That would be unacceptable. Sooyoung, could you be a dear and pick out something for me to wear, please? Nothing too fancy, it’s Sunday after all, casual will do just fine.”

“Yes, Master Kim.”

Jin smiles around his first bite of the perfectly cooked sunny side ups and turns on his tablet, going straight for the biggest online newspapers. The second bite he swallows with a frown upon his face. The third one never even makes it to his lips.

“Body found last night identified as attorney general’s wife” reads the headline in bold big letters on the front page accompanied by a picture of a taped off area just outside the city. “Police have begun investigations and the attorney general has been brought in for questioning early this morning. So far there are no suspects.”

Sooyoung returns with a light beige suit draped across her arm and a pair of maroon patent leather shoes in her hands, which she gingerly places near the vanity, hung on the floral dressing screen. She notices the scowl on her boss’ face and freezes, body tense, anticipating the worst from the moody mobster.

“Tell me, Sooyoung, how long have you been working for me?”

“It’s been eight months, Master Kim.”

“And do you enjoy your work?”

“Yes, Master Kim, very much.”

She starts fidgeting the second the lie leaves her mouth. Jin notices immediately and smiles indulgently, pushing the breakfast tray off his lap and to the side, taking one last glance at the article before powering off the device.

“Would you ever consider working for someone else?”

“No, I would never, Master Kim, I only wish to serve you.”

“What if they paid you more?”

She hesitates for a second before saying no and swallowing nervously.

“It’s not nice to lie, Sooyoung, especially to your employer. Also there’s no need. I’m well aware of your mother’s condition and I know just how expensive medicine and long term treatments can be. You’re loyal to your mother and you want what’s best for her, I find that admirable. Loyalty is extremely important to me.”

With that Jin pushes the sheets aside and rises from bed, checking the clock on the wall to see that it’s already 11 and stretching lazily, bones cracking softly with the motion. The silk of his pajamas creases like ripples of water, making his muscled frame obvious, signaling danger under all the softness.

 “ I guess loyalty can’t be bought …” Jin muses mostly to himself. “ You may go now, Sooyoung, thank you for everything.”

The girl quickly does a curtsy, bowing her head more than necessary before scurrying towards the door. But the boss’ voice stops her right before leaving.

“Oh and, Sooyoung?”

“Yes, Master Kim?

“There’s no need for you to come in tomorrow. Or any other day after that.”

Sooyoung takes in a sharp breath, trying to hold back her shock. She can feel her eyes begin to water but is too scared to say anything other than:

“I understand, Master Kim” and with that she takes her leave.


Jin picks the Maseratti for the day as he usually does when he is going to do his rounds. It lets people know it’s him as soon as he enters the neighborhoods, the small time lackeys out selling drugs or collecting fees always quick to phone their bosses when they spot him. He starts with Cheonho this time, eager to get the messiest business out of the way first.

His car doesn’t fit the cramped, narrow streets of the red light district so he parks underground and goes for a stroll. This side of the city is packed with tourists despite the “Asian Only” signs most brothels have hung on their doors. He doesn’t easily get lost in a crowd, his figure too tall and flashy not to draw attention but most people here don’t know who he is and those that do know to not bother him.

Jin stops at a food cart, unable to resist the alluring smell of freshly fried pajeon. He smiles at the lady selling the treats as he pays five times the price and leaves before the lady gets the chance to give him his change. He happily munches as he makes his way through the crowd, cheeks tinted pink from the heat of the pajeon and he’s wiping his lips as he enters a very modern looking building at the end of a narrow street packed with pachinko parlors and bars. The front is a fancy glass display similar to those of luxury shops but nobody is selling clothes or jewelry here. The place is actually one of Jin’s many brothels, a sort of HQ where the management he implemented resides. He lets himself in and is greeted in the marbled hallway by almost all of his lieutenants manning the prostitution ring, about twenty sharped dressed men that Jin had selected for their people skills and ability to coordinate complex large scale operations.

“Gentlemen, he greets them cheerfully, I fear that we are in the wrong business. If the lady down the street were to sell her heavenly pajeons for the price that they’re actually worth she’d be richer than us within a month.”

His men chuckle politely, not really making eye contact.

“I’ve come to see how you are all faring. Are you all in good health, high spirits, is business going smoothly?”

“Yes, Master Kim. As you can see, we are all doing very well thanks to your guidance and generosity.” one of them speaks, a guy named Huncheol who Jin had appointed as leader of the ring barely three months ago. He usually did the talking for everybody else.

“Wonderful, I’m very happy to hear that. But I haven’t come just to assess your wellbeing, gentlemen Where are our workers?”

“Resting, Master Kim. Business has been great lately, we stayed opened all night every night for the past month.”

“While that sounds like excellent news financially I can’t help but wonder just how tired our busy bees must be after such a demanding schedule.”

“I assure you, Master Kim, everybody is in great health and very happy to see the business booming.”

“While I’m sure that’s true, Huncheol, I’d like to hear it from their mouths. Call them down. All of them.”

There was no room for negotiation in Jin’s tone. The men exchanged a few worried glances which the head mobster’s trained eye caught immediately, and scurried upstairs to wake up the workers, hustling them all downstairs as they were, in their pajamas and messy hair.

Jin’s brothels catered to all tastes and all people, he’d rather be caught dead than hang up a racist sign on his doors. He had boys and girls of all colors and sizes and orientations working for him so they made up a very colorful, albeit exhausted looking bunch, crowding the hallway and rubbing the sleep out of their eyes.

“Good morning, sleepyheads!”

“Good morning, Master Kim.” They replied in a chorus like schoolchildren.

“I apologize for disturbing your sleep, I know how much you need it, but I must make sure that you are all well taken care of at all times so I’m afraid that this was necessary. How are you all? Is everything ok, are you eating well, resting enough?”

Jin received a few shy nods and mumbled yeses and he is not pleased. He spots a familiar head of strawberry blonde hair and takes a few steps, pulling the slender girl from next to her friends by her thin wrist.

“Hyuna, darling, why are you hiding from me?”

“I’m not, Master Kim, just sleepy still …”

She hadn’t taken her makeup off properly, eyeliner smudged around her cat eyes, lips still tinted a muted shade of burgundy. She had pillow lines on her left cheek and Jin pated her head affectionately like an older brother would. He had known Hyuna the longest out of all his workers and he trusted her to always tell him the truth.

Not too far on the side Huncheol lurks with a threatening scowl on his face, fists clenched to his sides, his entire demeanor tense, ready to either fight or flee. Jin has seen this too many times before, knows exactly how things are going to go down even before he receives the confirmation that he seeks nonetheless.

“Tell me honestly, Hyuna, how are you? How are things around here?”

The girl looks up at him then, a small fire alight in her eyes, no longer sleepy. She glances over quickly at Huncheol and the other men then she tells Jin in a sure tone of voice:

“Everything’s damn rosy.”

“I thought so.” Jin smiles and gently nudges her aside.

He saunters over to Huncheol who was already clenching his fists, instinct telling him to anticipate the worse.

“Say, regarding that old lady from down the street, what do you think my favorite type of pajeon is?”

“Please, Master Ki…”

The first blow landed on his temple, blinding him for a few horrible seconds in which Jin delivered four more punches, two to his cheekbones and two to his nose, knocking him straight off his feet. Huncheol tries to speak even though the blood from his fractured nose is flooding his mouth, making his pleas for mercy come out as unintelligible gargles.

Jin doesn’t stop, hunching over the man, grabbing him by the collar of his crimson stained shirt and smacking his head against the floor a few times.

“What’s that, Huncheol? I can’t understand a word you’re saying!”


“Please what? I asked you about the pajeons. You’re making absolutely no sense!”

The others recoiled collectively, stepping back, turning around as Jin got on his knees over Huncheol’s torso and began savagely punching him across the face, not stopping to take a breath, not stopping when blood began gushing out of the man’s eyes, not stopping when the sickening sound of a skull cracking like a coconut could be heard loudly enough to make everybody’s stomachs turn, not stopping even well after Huncheol’s body gave a final few spasms before going forever still.

Jin looked at his dirty hands when he was finally done with a mix of disgust and satisfaction. He got up, careful to not dirty his suit any further, the droplets of blood difficult enough to dry clean as it is, and looked up to Hyuna. The girl was holding herself, trying to not visible tremble but as terrified as she was of Jin she was also relieved to have finally gotten rid of the man that had beaten her and her friends black and blue over the course of the past months. She was happy she got revenge and the feeling made her gut clench in shame and horror. Nonetheless she reacted to Jin’s silent request and quickly found a handkerchief to offer him to clean his hands.

“Thank you, sweetie. And I apologize for the mess I made of the hallway. I was sure that cockroaches had no blood in them.”

Two of the men moved, going round Jin in a wide circle to get to the body on the floor and began clumsily trying to clean up the mess.


“Yes, Master Kim.” a tall bleach blond boy answered from the line of lieutenants.

“How old are you?”

“24, Master Kim.”

“Right, right. Your birthday’s in august, am I wrong?”

“No, that’s correct.”

“Tell you what, if you do a good job until august then I’ll give you permanent leadership of the ring on your 25th birthday. I’m tired of having to come take the trash out every few months or so. I need someone actually competent to take care of the place. Think you’re up for it?”

“I won’t disappoint you, Master Kim! Thank you so much for this honor!”

The rest of the lieutenants grumbled their congratulations to the youngest of their group, once more bewildered by the boss’ odd decisions. But they knew better than to say anything.

Jin smiled knowingly and returned the bloodied handkerchief to Hyuna. He leaned in, speaking to hear in a low tone of voice.

“Next time let me know if things are not so peachy.”

“Peachy…” the girl repeats and nods in understanding. “But I doubt anything bad will happen from now on.”

“Yeah, Hui’s a good man. Still has plenty to learn about life but he’s on the right track.”

Hyuna smiled bashfully, nodding her approval once more.

“You should stop cheating on him.” The girl flinches, looking up at Jin with frightened eyes. “ Hyojong’s a bit of a wild card, I think you’d be better off with Hui, he’s calmer, more down to earth.”

“It’s not like that, I’m not cheating on Hui …” she whispers, afraid to voice her panic.

“You do what you want, bebe. This is just some advice I felt I should give you as your oppa.” Jin smiled and patted her head once more.

“It was good to see you all today, he says, voice loud enough to be heard by everyone. Again, I apologize for the mess. I leave you in good hands and I hope to see you all in good health as well next time.”

“Goodbye, Master Kim.” the entire brothel answered him in a chorus.


The police station was buzzing that morning. Journalists had set camp all around, a few news stations were live and updating people based on rumors whereas others were badgering officers for information even if they had nothing to do with the case. The Superintendent was still in a meeting with important justice officials and overall there was chaos.

Yoonji and Hoseok had retreated to the relative safety of the fire exit staircase. She brought her laptop with her and was refreshing the page ever so often, antsy and eager to get the lab report back. Hoseok was obnoxiously sucking on a lemon flavored lollipop. He was hoping against hope that it was enough to stave his need for a smoke.

Suddenly Yoonji leaped with an excited squeak.


“Estimated time of death is 6 months ago, it lines up with the attorney general’s divorce scandal.”

“So … what’s the story? Fucker doesn’t want to split his fortune with her and whacks her?”

“Probably. But don’t forget that we got this information from Yoongi so somehow things tie in with the mafia.”

“What did the forensic pathologists say?”

“Body’s been tampered with, they still don’t have all the pieces. Flesh has been stripped from the bone by chemical means , they have deep indentations, probably from a circular saw …” she read from the report.

“So he hired someone to dispose of the body. We’re fucked.”


“Because he’s never gonna confess to that. He has enough money and good enough lawyers to get a reduced sentence for murder but he’ll get put to the dirt before he even sees the prison’s gates if he squeals.”

“We need a confession, Hobi. We’re getting shut down and this is the only lifeline we have.”

He sucks on the lollipop angrily, brows furrowed in thought. Yoonji slams the lid of the laptop shut and huffs. From inside the station comes another wave of ruckus that quickly descends into a general mumble.

“We need to get Yoongi out.” Hoseok eventually says.

“Whatever it takes?” Yoonji asks, looking in his eyes for confirmation.


“Let’s get that confession then.”


Jin struggled to find a place to park along the narrow sidewalks of one of the most expensive private neighborhoods in Seoul. He managed to squeeze in between two overly groomed shrubs and happily hoped out, scanning the tall, intricate fences of the row of villas before him. He took his time, strolling at a leisurely pace, stopping to pet a snow white cat and to take a picture of a blooming wild daisy. The weather was surprisingly nice, an late spring with the subtlest hints of the impeding summer. Jin wished he could have enjoyed this day more but he had work to do as always. He stopped in front of one of the houses and used his card to gain access. He made sure to have the keys to all the proprieties in which he did business and made a point out of dropping by unexpected. He liked keeping his men on their toes, it did wonders for their productivity.

The bodyguard by the front spotted Jin too late, leaving him with no choice but to scream his warning towards his direct boss.

“E’dawn! Big boss’  here! Dude!”

Jin chuckled at the ruckus he had caused.

“Sorry to drop by unannounced, I was in the neighborhood.”

“Master Kim, welcome!  Boss E’dawn’s in his room, upstairs, he wasn’t expecting you …”

“Does he really make you all call him by his silly street name? I swear …”

Jin takes the stairs two at a time, long legs serving him well whenever he gets in the mood for what he jokingly calls a surprise attack. He follows the smell of kush to the master bedroom with its double doors ajar.

A complete mess is what he’s met with upon entry. Clothes strewn about, tipped over armchairs, empty bottles, feathers from torn pillows … He catches Hyojong in the middle of tearing open a plastic bag that was covering his head, suffocating him.

“Please tell me this is a sex thing.” Jin deadpans.

“Would it make it less weird?” the younger asks, barely catching his breath, face sweaty and pale.

“You know how I feel about suicide. If any of my men die it’s either of old age, stray bullets or by my own hands.” he says as he hauls up the vintage sofa that was tipped over for some reason and sits on it, unbothered.

Hyojong rips off the rest of the plastic bag and tosses it carelessly on the floor. He’s only wearing sweatpants and a raggedy beach robe, his skinny torso visible, lithered with scratch marks. He looks around for something, the jug of water he had left on the window sill, which he takes and only bothers to glance around in search of a glass before drinking straight from the jug when he can’t spot any.

“You’re a real troublemaker, do you know that?”

“How so, boss?” he mumbles between gulps and coughs.

“First of all you don’t even address me properly but I’m gonna let that slide since I assume half of your brain has rotten away by now from all the weed you smoke.”

“I take  it for medicinal purposes.”

“Aww, and here I thought stupidity didn’t hurt.”

Hyojong didn’t miss the menacing tone but chose to ignore it, placing the now empty jug on a stool and sitting on the carpet in front of Jin like an oversized toddler.

“If this is about the attorney general I swear I don’t know what happened …”

“Oh, please! You’re an idiot, that’s what happened. I told you to lace it so that he dies not so that he goes on a killing spree and still remains sane enough to call for backup.”

“You’re angry …”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!”

Hyojong is quick to crawl closer, taking Jin’s hand in his own for a brief moment before placing it around his throat and looking up at him with a cloudy, unfocused gaze.

“I fucked up, the boy admits, voice small. You’re right, I’m an idiot, I’ve always been one … I’m sorry I failed you … again … But I don’t wanna die of old age or of stray bullets.”

Jin just looks at him, his grip never tightening. He sees the hickeys on his collarbones and the faded white scars on his wrists and begins to gently caress his throat, sending shivers through the boy’s frail frame.

“I’m not going to kill you, Hyojongie.”

“Why?!” he shouts, pushing away and crawling back to his spot on the floor.

“Because death would be a release to you not a punishment.”

“Haven’t you punished me enough when you replaced me?!”

“I replaced you because your talent as a chemist would have been wasted as a whore and as my plaything. I replaced you because you became needy and codependent and because being with you felt like fucking a zombie. And ultimately I replaced you because, unlike Taehyung, you are not loyal.”

Hyojong could taste bile on his tongue when he heard the name and in his anger kicked the stool, making it fall over and shatter the glass jug.

“Again with the theatrics. Does Hyuna know how you get ever so often? Did you tell her where all your scars are from? Does she know what you like? Is she aware that you’d trade her for the ounce of courage you’d need to finally take your life?”

“They don’t need to know…”


A few seconds pass until Jin’s face lights up with the biggest smile, giggles spilling without his control upon realizing.

“Hyuna’s not cheating, is she? You greedy thing! Accusing me of replacing you when you took on two lovers !”

Hyojong bows his head in shame, tears falling from his eyes without him even realizing. No drug could ever make him feel better again.

“Well at least they’ll have each other once you inevitably drive them away.”

Jin gets up, brushing off his trousers, feeling dirty just from sitting in the disastrous room.

“You go on and on about loyalty …” Hyojong says, not looking up. “But somebody told the police about the body. The other clan deals in cleanups, sure … but the hit on the attorney came from us. Someone sung …”

Jin doesn’t reply but his lips are frozen in a tight line, trying to contain the profanity that threatens to spill. He counts and breathes and leaves the villa before he loses control and gifts Hyojong what he wants most.


“Are you two really police officers?”

Instead of an answer Hoseok merely slurped on his now strawberry flavored lollipop making the attorney general cringe in disgust. Yoonji didn’t feel like sitting across the table from the guy so she just hovered menacingly behind Hoseok’s chair.

“I thought you worked in justice, he eventually answers with a smirk. Don’t you know that during interrogations we ask the questions not the other way ‘round?”

“Apparently I haven’t done such a good a job as I thought I did since I was appointed. Why on earth am I being held as a suspect when I am clearly the victim ? And why am I being questioned by a has-been agent and the sister of a mobster?”

Hoseok chuckles lightly then suddenly bites down on the hard candy, the crunching noise interrupting the man’s tirade.

“This has-been agent hasn’t had a smoke or a drink in days and is quite eager to punch something so I suggest you tone down the sass because these nicotine patches are not going to keep me in check for much longer.”

“Are you threatening me?! This is abuse!”

“No, abuse is what your wife has reported right before your scandalous divorce. Why don’t we talk about that?”

“I didn’t kill my ex-wife!”

“Who said anything about her being killed?”

The man scoffs in annoyance, leaning back on his seat. Hoseok smirks once more, putting his feet up on the table, rocking dangerously on his chair.

“Why’d you do it? Didn’t feel like splitting your fortune and paying alimony? Were you drunk, angry …?”

“I didn’t do it!”

“So you keep saying despite me not asking. We found drugs in your house.”

“What?! You couldn’t have!”

“How so? Took them all?”

“I don’t take drugs! How dare you accu…”

“Oh shut up, you’re twitchier than Yoonji here when she hasn’t had coffee in five minutes. Just fess up already. What were you taking?”

“You said you found them at my house, why are you asking me?”

“Because I lied, we didn’t find shit. But I can easily plant some meth.”


“What were you taking? Don’t test my patience, I told you, I’m already on edge. Either tell me the truth or I’ll fabricate something much worse.”

“I’ll fucking have your badge for this …”

“Go ahead. I’ll bury you before that happens.”

“This is blackmail!”

“Something I’m sure you’re familiar with.”

“I refuse to speak anymore. I want my lawyer.”

“You fucking …”

“That’s enough, Hoseok.” Yoonji finally speaks, her hand gentle yet firm on his shoulder.

Hoseok stands up, dragging the chair with a screech until it’s under the table. He glares at the man seated across from him, sweaty yet content that he doesn’t have to tell them anything anymore.

“I’m getting twitchy, Yoonji says in an even tone. Could you please bring me some coffee?”

“ I don’t think this is really the time for coffee…”

“Please.” she insists, eyes hard and determined. Hoseok lifts a brow, unsure but the girl’s unmoving. He sighs in disappointment and with a final glare he leaves the room, footsteps heavy.


It takes him a while to get the coffee machine going, the old thing noisy and slow, the drip barely filling a cup in five minutes. Hoseok sighs and rummages around for sugar when Yoonji arrives, knuckles bruised and a shit eating grin on her face.

“You look pleased… What did you do?”

“Better you don’t know. Tell me, when was the last time you made an arrest?”

“Yoonji… did you beat the fucker up?”

“Do you want to cuff Kim Seokjin or not?”

“Fuck yeah I do!”


Traffic in the city had been atrocious but Jin was glad to have finally made it past the bustling streets of the city center and onto the emptier side roads that led to the warehouses by the docks. Here only the rustling sound of crashing waves and the occasional cry of a seagull could be heard. The Maserati’s wheels came to a stop in front of what looked like an abandoned storage unit. Jin got out of the car and stretched, inhaling deeply the salty air, enjoying the soft breeze on his face. He checked his watch, he really didn’t want to waste the entire Sunday on errands.

Soon enough another expensive foreign car comes into view and quickly parks, a hurried man making his way out of the vehicle and towards Jin.

“I apologize, Master Kim, for making you wait.”

“It’s alright, Jongup, traffic was a nightmare today.”

The two shake hands and trade well wishes before Jongup reaches into his pockets and pulls out a small, black notebook.

“The numbers look good but they can always look better. Costs have gone up since the gun trade has been monopolized by the lower Kim clan. I expect that we’ll witness an increase in expenses soon enough … it’s gonna be a serious blow to your finances, Master Kim.”

“I always appreciated you for your honesty and bluntness.” Jin tells the man with a reassuring smile. ”And I know you are going to once more advise me to actually sell the guns rather than have them melted so before the words even leave your lips let me repeat the fact that my stance on the matter hasn’t changed. We only buy the weapons to have them destroyed, that’s all. No distribution, no use.”

Jongup sighs, defeated.

“It’s costly. You’ll need a boost from your other businesses if you want to keep doing this … charity work? Will I ever know why we do this?”

“I simply don’t like guns.” Jin smiles once more, closing the subject, leaving his arms dealer dumbfounded for the Nth time. “How much control do the other Kims have? What are we looking at now that they have China in their pocket?”

“I estimate that they own around 60% of the market. It’s hard to trade and move stuff in this part of the continent without them knowing. Everything coming from the mainland goes through them. As far as I know Kim Namjoon personally oversees the entire operation and uses Jackson Wang as his reinforcer. The man is vicious when it comes to deals, impossible to budge. He’s more stubborn than a businessman but always gets the job done exactly how Kim orders him to.”

“I see … So losing mister Wang would be detrimental to their operation, wouldn’t it?”

“I’d expect so. What would you like us to do, Master Kim?”

“Nothing for now, I believe that I’ll be pretty busy in the next few weeks, but do be on standby, I’ll have someone help you with the whole arms dealing fiasco soon enough.”

“I understand.”

“Keep your ear to the ground until then. Thank you so much, Jongup!”

“My pleasure as always, Master Kim.”

The men shake hands once more before parting, Jin friendly inquiring about a restaurant that serves seafood nearby and after listening to Jongup’s advice decides that it is time for a big lunch to make up for his ruined breakfast and lift his spirits so that he can tackle the rest of the day.


“Alright, which one of you beat up the attorney general?”

Hoseok and Yoonji were in the Superintendent’s office, door shut closed and blinds drawn tightly. The man was seething with barely contained anger, fidgeting in his seat, measuring the duo from head to toe like a pissed off father would do with his unruly teenaged kids.

“It was Yoonji.” Hoseok is quick to tattletale.

“Oh fuck you, Hobi!”

“Are you two out of your minds?!”

They shrink under their commander’s tone, hands behind their backs but not an ounce of remorse in their eyes. Siwon sighs deeply, exhausted. He rubs his forehead, headache creeping in on him steadily.

“What did he confess?” he eventually asks, tired.

“Said that he bought drugs from Kim Seokjin, that he’s been his supplier for years. Told me that one of his nightclubs is also a front for a small prostitution ring. His alibi is basically that he was too stoned and busy fucking to have killed his wife.” Yoonji answers, still caressing her sore knuckles.

“This is confession under duress; we will get so much shit for it …”

“Sir”, Hoseok speaks up, “we need a warrant, we need to raid the club right now. If we can find anything there that matches up with the info we received then we can finally launch this operation properly.”

“Kim Seokjin will most likely walk” Yoonji adds in earnest. “ He’ll find a way, lawyer up … But if we can prove that our intel is correct then we can start a large scale mission, we can pick up where my brother left off and finally take down the Kims.”

The Superintendent gnaws on his bottom lip, worried beyond anything the two officers have ever seen him. He suddenly grabs a paper from his desk, writes on it in a hurry and stamps it angrily, handing it to Hoseok.

“Jung, you run head for the raid, Min, go bring Kim Seokjin in for questioning.”


“Go before I change my mind!”


A squad was ready to go in under an hour, more than twenty men buckling up and checking their weapons, bulletproof vests and communication devices in the small garage of the police department, cars ready, engines already started. They were waiting for one man’s word to head towards the infamous Sugarglider.

Hoseok was suited up, SWAT written across his back in a now unfamiliar way, like an unmerited label, he felt like he had somehow dishonored the black uniform, that he wasn’t worth the bulletproof vest. He was on the emergency staircase again, steadying his breathing, building up the courage to face those men and stand before them as a leader.

He pulls out his phone and hits call before he has the chance to change his mind. The familiar voice answers on the third ring.

“I swear, if this is a drunk bootycall …”

“Where are you?” Hoseok interrupts the adorable tirade.

“That’s none of your business.”

“Are you at work? Are you at the Sugarglider?”

“Yes but don’t you dare come here and try to …”

“You have to leave.”


“Tae, listen to me, in 15 minutes I’m busting the joint with an entire squad. There’s gonna be a raid, we are looking for drugs and prostitutes. You need to get out of there. Now!”

The line goes silent and then Hoseok hears the steady beeping marking the end of the call. He sends a hurried prayer to whatever mercy there is in the universe before putting on his gloves and entering the bustling garage.

“Hello, I’m special agent Jung Hoseok and today I’ll be your team commander. Everybody get inside the cars and be on standby, we’ll be on location within 15 minutes. Go! Go! Go!”


Yoonji waited for a solid two hours in front of the private residence. Her bum had gone numb from sitting on the cold sidewalk and she ran out of coffee an hour ago. She had been checking her phone incessantly, hoping to hear from Hobi, hoping that the raid went alright but there was nothing.

By sunset a luxurious car finally pulls over in front of the entrance. Yoonji stands up, patting the dust from her pants, pulling out her badge, expectantly.

A man walks out of the car, a box in one hand and a doughnut in the other. He is still munching on it, a happy, almost innocent smile upon his face.

“Kim Seokjin?” she asks, trying to make her voice deeper, more serious.

“Mhm” he nods before swallowing. “That’s me.”

“I’m special agent Min Yoonji. I’m afraid you’ll have to come with me back to the station for questioning in relation to an ongoing murder investigation.”

“Oh my, this is weird …”

“What is?”

“How much you resemble your brother.”

Yoonji is taken aback and tries to not let it show. Jin easily towers over her, regarding her with curiosity and that constant pleasant smile upon his face.

“Do you resemble him in other ways as well? Do you have the same predisposition to burn bridges and betray trust and break promises?”

Yoonji decides to bite her tongue and ignore him.

“Could you please just come with me to the station?”

“Of course, of course.”

Jin happily hops into the patrol car and Yoonji slips into the driver’s seat, unease nestled in her chest.

“Say, officer Min … what’s your favorite type of doughnut?”



Chapter Text


Jimin felt like he was sinking into the soft pillows and the cloud-like bed. His wrists were bound together by ribbons and he knew he could easily escape but didn’t dare to. The sheer curtains were drawn, softening the bright daylight that sifted through them, basking the entire bedroom in a delicate glow. Namjoon had bought two huge bouquets of primroses and angel trumpets for the bedside tables and it smelled heavenly sweet. So did Jimin, freshly bathed and lovingly rubbed with fragrant oils, he was spread out like an offering, a blooming flower, prouder than any other.

The younger was hard and leaking, his tip glistening in the light a deep shade of pink matching his plump lips that were curled in a content, lazy smile. His daddy always worshiped him best.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Namjoon whispers, hands gently caressing his thighs, lips pressed closed to his sensitive ear shell, sending shivers through his body with each word.

“Floaty …” Jimin replies and keens, spreading his legs wantonly.

Namjoon’s been prepping him for what felt like hours, making sure that his precious one didn’t feel any bit of discomfort, patiently kneading his muscles until he was loose and pliant around his fingers.

“Daddy, please …” Jimin’s eyes shone with unshed tears and it took Namjoon’s breath away at just how beautiful he could be.

“Alright, petal, you’ve been so good for me, my perfect baby doll.”

The older finally moves. He’s been achingly hard since he first tied the silky ribbons around his baby’s wrists but tried his best to ignore his want in favor of focusing all his attention on spreading  the fluttering entrance open for him. But now he finally seemed ready, coating his length in lube even though it was hardly necessary at this point, the sheets already ruined with the slick gushing out of the younger from the thorough prepping. Namjoon maintains eye contact as he sheaths himself in the welcoming, wet heat, groaning in pleasure from the tightness. Jimin moans, throwing his head back. He never got tired of feeling so incredibly full, so perfectly whole.

Namjoon waits, carding his fingers through his lover’s blonde locks and nuzzling his neck, kissing his collarbones …

“Daddy, please, move … I need it… please …”

He looks Jimin over, making triple sure that he had adjusted before slowly, painfully slowly beginning to thrust shallowly into him. He keeps the steady rhythm, making the younger feel every vein, every inch at an excruciating pace.

“Noooo…please, faster!”

Namjoon shushes him, kissing him deeply, hands travelling to his pert nipples and caringly caressing them with his thumbs.  Jimin hikes his legs up, crossing his ankles and trying to buck up and fuck himself on his daddy’s cock faster and deeper.  Namjoon breaks the kiss and firmly untangles his legs, spreading them by the thighs.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why are you being a bad boy?”

“Daddy, please, I won’t break. Please, just … harder…”

He’s crying, fat crocodile tears falling down his reddening cheeks and he’s biting his lip like he knows he’s not supposed to.

“What’s gotten into you lately?” Namjoon asks, stilling his hips, making the younger whine desperately. “Why do you keep insisting on me hurting you?”

“You’re not hurting me, daddy … I just need more … please … Daddy, fuck me open …”

At that Namjoon pulls out and immediately unties the ribbons. Jimin screams and starts sobbing, tiny fists hitting the pillows in anger.

“That’s not how I taught you to speak or act! What’s gotten into you? Why are you throwing a fit?”

Jimin didn’t answer, just continued wailing and thrashing on the bed until his face turned red and all he could taste were his salty tears.

Namjoon let him have his moment, put on a pair of sweats and went to bring the younger a tall glass of water. He was confused and frankly quite pissed off but he did his best to calm down, be an adult. He almost never had to deal with an emotional Jimin, the younger always in good spirits, always smiling and bouncing around him. He never misbehaved, was always so good at respecting the rules, at making his daddy proud. Jimin was still crying when he returned, albeit more quietly, face hidden in the crook of his arm as he lay on the bed. Namjoon sat next to him, petting his head.

“Look at me, Jimin.”

The younger obeyed, eyes filled with shame and remorse.

“All I have is you …” Jimin says, voice small and hoarse from the screaming. “There’s nobody else in this world that wants me … But sometimes … it feels like you don’t really … like I’m just some fragile thing that you can’t trust … Why am I never good enough for you?” More tears start rolling down his face and he hiccups uncontrollably. Namjoon brings the glass of water to his bite swollen lips and helps him drink until his hiccups stop.

“You are good enough, petal. It’s not you, you’re perfect in every single way and I want to desperately protect you. I’d kill anyone that would lay their hands on you. You’re my wonderful baby doll. I’m the one that’s broken … “

“Daddy, no …”

Jimin wipes his tears bitterly and crawls into Namjoon’s lap, grateful when the older doesn’t push him away, grateful when he circles his arms tightly around his waist, grateful when he lets him kiss him over and over and over again.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry … I love you, I love you so much …”

“Can I have that in writing?” Namjoon says, playful smile on his face, dimples on display. “Say … 1000 times over? In cursive.”

“Yes, daddy.” Jimin happily accepts his punishment.


Yoonji sits stiffly on the hard chair across from a very happy looking Jin. She knows that the intel she’s got is true, she knows this even without solid proof. Yoongi was never wrong about people and if the files said that this man was a cold blooded killer she believed it. Yoonji guessed the strength hidden in every crease of the fabric when he bent and moved, she observed the cold glimmer in his eyes when he looked at her, she feared what lay hidden behind that sweet smile.

“Are you working alone on this case, Yoonji-yah?”

“I’m working on several in parallel alongside my team.” she answers coldly.

“Yet you’re the only one here with me.”

“My partner will be joining us soon.”

“Hmm… He’s probably still busy raiding my establishment. I bet he picked the biggest one, am I wrong? You’re searching The Sugarglider, aren’t you?” Jin laughs, pleased when he sees Yoonji trying to mask her surprise.  “That’s ok, as long as they don’t bother my clients too much.”

“What is it exactly that you do, mister Kim?”

“Don’t you have a file on me? I’m a businessman, I own several bars and hotels.”

“You’ve been accused of selling drugs and running a prostitution ring through your bars and hotels.”

“Again? How many times must you search me and come up empty handed before you acknowledge that I’m a model citizen?”

Yoonji raises her brow and scoffs at that remark.

“It’s true! I host three charity balls a year and I donate blood every month!” Jin defends himself with a pout.

“Whose blood?” Yoonji spits, coil of anger tight in her belly.

Jin’s smile drops suddenly, entire demeanor changing. 

“Is there something else I’m being accused of?” he asks, voice dipping dangerously low.

Yoonji feels a shiver run up her spine at the quick shift in the atmosphere. All of a sudden the interrogation room seems too small, the locked door a trap. She’s inside a hungry wolf’s den.

Jin stands up and Yoonji follows suit, chairs screeching on the concrete floor. She wants to tell him to sit back down or else she’ll cuff him but the words don’t leave her lips before Jin has her backed up against the wall. She’s close enough to him to feel his breath on her cheek as he speaks.

“I’m not oblivious to the fact that I keep company with some very important and at the same time very problematic people, people that would sell their soul to the devil if it meant getting away with the things that they do.  It’s how most people are, loyal only to themselves. “

“You need to back away, Sir …” Yoonji manages while avoiding direct eye contact. Jin ignores her request.

“Am I being accused of murder, Yoonji-yah?”


“No … not yet?”

“Please return to your seat.”

Jin lifts his hand to Yoonji’s face, gently guiding her chin with the tips of his long fingers until he forces her to look him in the eyes.

“I’ve met your brother once. He had just become the best friend of a former … partner of mine. I didn’t trust him back then, I wasn’t even sure why. He had fox eyes, you know? Unlike you … Sweet Yoonji, you have doe eyes. A doe that knows a wolf is coming by only the rustle of leaves.”

Yoonji gasps, frozen in place as the images from the files she had read dozens of times over flash before her eyes. Not the numbers nor the names and cryptic locations and timestamps but the pictures … unfocused, taken in a haste, sneakily almost, of mangled dead bodies and crushed skulls and severed limbs dunked in vats of lye. An unknown killer at large, no proof of the crimes ever taking place, like some sick fantasy concocted by a deranged liar, the victims themselves anonymous ghosts, Yoonji feels it more than understands it that the author of that horror was the man whose soft lips were pressing against her own.

How deep the lies went she couldn’t tell, she couldn’t even grasp the magnitude of what she had stumbled upon. This man was no mere mobster but a monster in the full sense of the word and she couldn’t prove it. Like a shadow creature, Kim Seokjin was untouchable. And his death cold power paralyzed Yoonji with dread.

“What the fuck is happening here?!”

In a few blurry seconds Hoseok had come in like a storm and dragged Jin away from Yoonji, using all his strength to push the taller man back onto the chair, cuffed with his hands to the solid table. Hoseok was still in his SWAT uniform, face red and sweaty hair stuck to his forehead, panting in exhaustion and anger.

“I’m gonna add assaulting an officer to the laundry list of charges we’ve got on you.” he spits out and  Jin just smiles.

Hoseok turns to Yoonji, worried look replacing the previously  furious one. He had never seen Yoonji this scared.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks in a whisper.

“No… I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes … did you find anything?”

Hoseok bites his lip and shuffles a bit, nervously.  He turns to Jin and announces in what he hopes is a firm tone of voice.

“We’ve found traces of unknown substances in your bar’s kitchen and we’ve sent them for analysis. I’m afraid you’ll have to spend the night here until we get the lab results.”

“Forensic drug testing doesn’t take that long.” Jin counters.

“We suspect that they are explosives.”


“Chanyeol! Come escort mister Kim to his holding cell!”

Jin is ushered away with little resistance, the mobster quickly catching on to what is actually happening. He smirks and fights back laughter, the situation as amusing as it is infuriating. He thinks that this might be more fun than he anticipated.

Yoonji feels like she can finally breathe once Jin is out of the room and the door shut behind him. She leans against the wall, sighing deeply.

“What happened while I was gone?”

“Nothing… he made vague threats and I froze. It was stupid.”

“Sounds pretty serious to me …”

“It’s really not.” she lies. “Did you actually find explosives?”

“Of course not.” Hoseok scoffs.

“Then what did you send to the lab?”

“Powdered sugar.”

“Fuck. How long do we have?”

“Not counting the hour we’re gonna spend getting scolded by the Sup… I reckon until tomorrow afternoon.”

“We need to pin something on him.”

“Let’s go talk to the attorney general again.”

Yoonji nods and stretches her arms above her head before cracking her knuckles.

“Oh no no!” Hoseok quickly says. “I’m beating him up this time.”


Yoongi was sorting through seven stacks of papers and had around five folders open on his computer. Namjoon too was staring at his own screen and taking notes of everything Yoongi was telling him in a black leather notebook.

“I’d vouch for Jihoon with my life, boss, it’s not him.”

“Then someone from his team.”

“His teammates are his family.”

“Family can betray you, Yoongi, you know this better than most …”

Yoongi bites his tongue at the venom behind those words. His boss is having a bad day, he tells himself, it’s not personal. This mess was huge and had the potential of blowing up beyond any of their expectations.

“They’d have nothing to gain and everything to lose from it. It’s nobody from Jihoon’s side.”

“Then who?!”

Namjoon tosses his pen furiously against the hard wood of the table. He wishes he hadn’t decided to conduct business from home today when he sees Jimin worryingly poking his head from his room to check on him.

“Daddy … Should I make you some tea…?”

“Yeah, chamomile with …”

“Honey and a dash of milk, I know.”

“Thanks, petal.”

Yoongi follows Jimin with his eyes as he patters towards the kitchen. He saw the redness in his eyes when he came to the penthouse and the slight hunch in his posture and he was worried but couldn’t ask, not now when there are far more pressing matters that need to be dealt with.

“I’m running out of ideas, Yoons.”

“I got a call from Wang this morning. Says he’s being tailed for a few days now. Wants to know if he should come back to Korea or nah.”

“You think that has something to do with our rat situation?”

“Maybe. Somebody’s trying to get the cops on our backs and a murder charge combined with an illegal arms deal charge is a pretty bad prison sentence.”

“We can’t let Jackie come back, not now. They’ll follow him straight to us. He has to fend for himself for a while until we can sort this mess.”

Namjoon sighs and leans back on his chair, staring blankly at the ceiling. Yoongi chugs all the papers in a nearby bin and takes a seat as well.

“We might not be the only targets …” the brunet eventually says.

Namjoon straightens in his seat, his concentration back on the man before him.

“Go on.”

“We do pay the attorney for protection and we did help him get rid of the body of his wife but … we are not the ones that sold him the drugs and made his kid vanish. We’re also not the only ones in the gun trade business.”

Namjoon bites his lip and looks away, always unable to calmly deal with things when it comes to Seokjin.

“Are you telling me that there’s someone idiotic enough to try and come for the both of us?”

Jimin walks in right then, a pretty porcelain cup on a small saucer in one hand, which he carefully places in front of Namjoon, the sweet smell of tea wafting deliciously from it and a big clay mug which Jimin made himself when he took up pottery as a hobby one summer, full with dark, hot coffee in his other hand. He looks at Yoongi for a second and hands the mug to him without a word before scurrying back to the bedroom.  Yoongi again follows him with his eyes until he’s gone then takes a sip and is surprised to notice that Jimin remembered exactly how he likes his coffee.

“There’s something else that you might need to know …” Yoongi says, cautiously.

“Can this day get any worse …” Namjoon mumbles while sipping on his tea.

“They’ve got Seokjin. They’re holding him for questioning.”

Yoongi didn’t dare to breathe after he let the words out.  He watched Namjoon place his cup back on the table and clench his fists and in an attempt to not flip the whole thing over. He listens to him breathe in deeply twice before rising from his chair and grabbing his phone.

“Work from here today. Can’t risk having you tailed as well. Call all of our main men and tell them to be extremely cautious from now on, we can’t afford any screw ups. If anyone suspects anybody of anything  let me know. Any information is useful. When you leave make sure the door is locked and nobody sees you.”

“Got it. Where will you be?”

“Other side of town.” is all he says before storming out, door banging behind him.

Yoongi breathes in deeply and checks his phones. Both batteries are dying so he finds the nearest sockets to plug them in. He’ll be making a lot of phone calls soon.

The situation was pretty bad. They had counted on the attorney general for a good number of years to provide them with the necessary legal cover and the man, as much as he is a junkie and a whore, had served both Kims perfectly so far. With him out of the picture and a potential investigation on their heads, they were completely exposed. What’s worse is the fact that he has no idea if they are dealing with a rat or a mole. This means that all branches of their business are at risk. The reasonable thing would be to shut everything down until the waters calm but that would mean a lot of pissed off clients and business partners and a huge financial loss to the clan.

Yoongi was nervously chewing on his thumbnail thinking all of this over in his head when he felt a pair of warm arms circling his waist and a head resting on his right shoulder.

“Hey.” Jimin says softly.

“Hey.” Yoongi relaxes in his embrace.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, you don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll figure it out soon …”

Jimin huffs and lets go of him, flopping on the chair and looking at Yoongi’s laptop.

“Doesn’t look fine to me.  Looks actually pretty bad, like going to prison bad.”

“Nobody is taking you to prison.” Yoongi says angrily, sitting down as well now.

“Perhaps. Why are you looking into the clean-up crew and gun runners? They’d never betray the clan.”

“First of all, why are you looking on my laptop?” Yoongi slams the lid shut.”Secondly, that’s who Namjoon suspects. Only higher ranks are privy to the kind of information the police are after.”

“You would think that, of course. But Daddy’s driver, Mr Choi, is Jihoon’s sister’s godfather and he knows all about his and the crew’s business and he gossips about it with Ms Yang, the head of the staff at the casino who also knows all about the rigged roulette games from the gaming dealer, the blonde girl, Choa, whose mom is neighbours with …”

“How do you know all this?”

“I really like to gossip.”

“So you’re telling me that from all the people Namjoon has in his service it could be anyone that’s ratted on us.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe the body was discovered on accident because life is just a bitch like that sometimes.”

Yoongi laughs and leans in his chair. Jimin never fails to lighten his mood. He also got him thinking, worriedly, at all the possibilities with which he is now faced. It’s making him dizzy and he’d rather change the subject.

“Are you ok, Jimin? You look like you’ve been crying.”

“Why do you care?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“A normal one. I’m fine, I was just in a bad mood.”

“So you’re ok now?”

“Hmm… I could use a little pick me up.” he smiles and Yoongi gulps when he sees that devilish turn of lips.

Jimin drops to the floor and crawls on all fours the short distance between their chairs, until he’s between Yoongi legs.

“Hands behind your back, oppa.” he commands and the older is quick to comply, already used to their game. He can never touch, that’s Namjoon’s rule for anybody that is allowed near Jimin and they both tell themselves that this is ok, that they are not actually doing something they’re not supposed to, it’s just a loophole, that’s all, just something they do because they can’t help themselves and it’s not hurting anybody.

The blond traces his hands up and down Yoongi’s thighs and when the bulge in his pants starts being obvious he starts caressing that as well, applying just enough pressure, working him patiently to a full, painful hard on. It never ceases to amaze Jimin just how desperate the other gets for him every single time. He labels it obsession or lust or adrenaline rush, anything than the dreaded L word. He can’t let himself believe that Yoongi loves him because it simply can’t be true.

“Baby, please …”

It’s breathless, the way he says it, eyes blown dark with need. Jimin takes pity on him and opens the fly and pulls him out, cock throbbing in his tiny hand, slit shining with precum. He thumbs over it making Yoongi keen.

“You look so delicious, oppa …” he kitten licks the tip and moans then starts littering his length with wet kisses, sucking lightly on his balls before trailing his tongue all the way back up and around his frenulum. “Tastes so good … I’m gonna suck you dry.”

Lately Jimin started dirty talking more and more and Yoongi wasn’t complaining but it drove him mad to hear such words coming from that sweet mouth. He nodded dumbly and managed another please before Jimin engulfed his cock in an unbearably hot wetness.  He goes up and down again and again and it takes all his willpower to not buck up into the younger’s mouth. He clenches his fists and moans, thighs beginning to tremble when Jimin deepthroats him.

“Baby, stop … you’ll choke…”

Jimin wraps his hands around the base to hold him steady and continues to go as deep as he can, cutting his air and making himself dizzy. It feels so good and addictive and he wants more.

Spit is running down his chin and unto the floor with a wet noise, almost as wet as the sounds that come each time Jimin pushes past his gag reflex. There are tears in his eyes and that’s when he feels Yoongi’s hand on his head, trying to push him away.

“What are you doing?” he hardly says, slapping the hand off his head.

“It’s too much, Jimin…”

“I say what’s too much. Keep your hands away and let me do what I want.”

“Baby, please, don’t …”


Yoongi reluctantly puts his hands behind his back again and closes his eyes, steadying himself for what’s to come. Jimin is pleased and whispers a small thank you before he gets back to sucking even harder and faster than before.

The constant gulk gulk is driving Yoongi up the walls and he can’t stop himself from thrusting his hips up any longer. Jimin quickly catches on and starts meeting his thrusts half way, helping the older face fuck him silly.

“Baby, baby, I’m so close … fuck, I’ll cum …”

Jimin puts his hands on Yoongi’s hips, stilling his erratic thrusting and engulfing him until his nose meets the fuzzy tuft of hair at the base of his cock. Yoongi cums with a shout deep down the other’s throat, Jimin can’t even taste the cum, just feels the hot liquid going down.  He stays still until he can’t handle the lack of oxygen anymore and releases Yoongi’s spit covered cock from his mouth.

Jimin’s eyes are sparkly with tears, cheeks flushed dark red and lips swollen. Yoongi’s heart races like crazy at the sight.

“Are you ok?”

“That was amazing …” he answers in a husky, broken voice.

“Yeah … best in my entire life.” Jimin preens at the praise. “I’ll go make you some warm lemon tea, go wash your face, ok?”



 “I do have the right to one phone call, you know.”

Jin was leaning against the bars of the holding cell, trying to get at least two words out of the young officer posted there to keep an eye on the inmates. There weren’t many, just two girls at the end of the row of cells, probably in for prostitution and one man that was sleeping uncomfortably on the hard bed, most likely there for drunkenly misconduct. And of course there was Jin, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, diamond Rolex shining obscenely on his wrist and hair still perfectly styled in a side part. It freaked the young officer out and he avoided even looking his way.

“You must be new here, am I right?”

No answer still.

“Alright then, let’s get to know each other. We can play twenty questions. Look, I’ll start. My name’s Seokjin and I’m 30 years old. How about you?”


“Ok, you’re a shy one, that’s alright. Girls, what about you?”

The duo looked at him confused but didn’t dare not to reply.

“I’m Miso, this is Cathy. We’re both 21 years old.”

“Ah, see? That wasn’t so hard. Are you two here because of the services you offer?”


“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not judging. I’m guessing you work for Kwon, right? If you ever get fed up with the poor working conditions I’d be happy to hire you at my establishment. It’s perfectly legal, you probably heard of it, it’s called Eat Pink, up in Cheonho.”

“Oh! We know it!”

“Really? I’m glad. Have you heard of it, officer? No? Not the type to enjoy such services? Must mean you don’t frequent clubs either, probably just some pubs with old friends from highschool and coworkers. I don’t see any wedding ring, do you have someone in your life? You probably do since you’re so dead set on staying out of trouble. But trouble tends to find us anyway, don’t you think? Girls, am I right? You mind your own business your whole life then one day you say no to the wrong person and next thing you know you’re jobless and nobody is willing to hire you in your field anymore, your house gets ruined in a fire and your mom cries herself to sleep every night after getting death threats every half an hour. Life’s really unfair. But smart people make their own luck, that’s what I think.”

More awkward, tense silence. The young officer is sweating, frozen in his place, clueless as to what to do now, what would be the right move …

“Just let him make that phone call, you dumbass.” the man that was sleeping a few moments ago speaks in a gruff voice. “Do you want your life to become a living hell over something so stupid?”

Not even two minutes pass before Jin is handed his cellphone by the trembling officer.

“Thank you.” Jin looks at his badge and smiles.”Park Heejun. Nice to meet you. I usually like a person that can hold their tongue. If we ever meet again I’ll be sure to remember you.” The young one says nothing, only bows stiffly and leaves to find someone to take over his shift for him.

Jin chuckles a little, the entire prison situation amusing to him. Nonetheless he’d rather be at home, he is a busy man after all, a man with a rat infestation that needs handling.

The phone rings only twice before he hears an eager

“Master Kim.”

“Kookie, darling, I’m having a bit of a situation and I need your assistance.”


The adrenaline rush had barely subsided when Taehyung finally reached the front of his building. He had shoved his laptop and tablet into his gym bag and then three small packets of meth on top of them, abandoning everything else in his flee from the Sugarglider. He felt bad about not warning the other workers but he couldn’t say anything without them questioning him. He took solace in the fact that he knew there was no way the cops could find anything unless they took the place apart brick by brick. The only official security cameras were carefully placed at the entrance and not inside where the drug deals happened, the bar had a fingerprint lock on the secret drawer where all the money and the drugs were kept and the sex happened in the private dressing rooms where no cameras existed for privacy reasons.

They were safe, this was not their first raid. He breathed in deeply and began climbing the stairs through the decrepit, noisy building, up to his red door. There he froze.

“Hello, Taehyung, remember me?”

“You’re not easy to forget, Mr. Kim.”

Namjoon smiled a tired smile and approached Taehyung with big steps. The younger took a few steps back.

“Do I scare you? I thought you’d become fearless by now, given the man you keep company with.”

“There’s nothing between me and Master Kim, I swear.”

“Master Kim? That brings back bitter memories. “

Taehyung backs away even more, every muscle in his body ready to make a run for it.

“You owe me a favor, Taehyung. I kept my promise to you and I’m taking good care of Jimin. He’s safe and healthy and nobody will ever lay a finger on him again.”

“Thank you …”

“But I need something from you now as well. You say that you and Jin are not a thing but you’re still the person he trusts most. I need you to look after him.”

“Look after him … and report back to you?”

“I just need to know he’s safe.”

“It’s other people that are not safe around him.”

Namjoon huffs at that, smiling sadly.

“I understand why you’d think that but I’ve known him my whole life. He’s not infallible, he can break and crumble like any of us. Do this for me, ok?”

“It’s not like I have a choice as long as you have Jimin.”

“I would never harm Jimin.”

“You would for Jin.”

Namjoon says nothing at that, just leaves without as much as a glance at Taehyung, knowing that he accomplished what he came for.

Taehyung’s stomach was in knots after the encounter and he didn’t feel safe anymore. He needed to get away, needed to be somewhere where the Kims weren’t, where he didn’t have to deal with their constant war that drag everyone along for the ride. He sighed and unlocked his phone.


“Hobi, c’mon, we gotta go before the Sup gets here.” Yoonji pulled on his shoulders, trying to pry the man away from his computer.

“Yeah, yeah, hold on a second.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just … do you know any flower shops nearby?”

“I don’t think flowers are gonna make the Sup less angry, we broke the dude’s nose …”

“They’re not for the Sup, what the heck?!”

Yoonji froze for a few seconds, processing the entire situation again before squealing and making Hoseok jump in his seat.

“You bastard! You said it was just a casual hookup!”

“Well … it is … still … I wanna change that …”

“Holy shit, this is great! Oppa, I’m so proud of you!” she said and hugged him so tightly he could hear a few joints creak.

“Please don’t call me oppa in public …”

“C’mon, I know this place nearby and they sell the most beautiful roses!”

“Jesus, who are you? I’m pretty sure I witnessed you spit a guy in the face a few minutes ago.”

“You were hallucinating, nicotine patches have that side effect.”


Jungkook was nervous but he couldn’t let it show. He had put on a suit, he polished his shoes, he looked sharp, mature. All he had to do was keep a straight face, take no bullshit and solve the problem. Easy. He had crawled out of a grave, he could do anything. Seokjin expected great things from him, this was nothing.

He walked into the police station and went straight to the interrogation rooms. He walked confidently like he knew the place, looked the guard in the eye when he flashed him his fake id and announced himself as a lawyer. He even brought a briefcase with him.

In a matter of minutes he was alone and face to face with the attorney general.

“Somebody did a number on you.” he commented.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man asked, voice muffled by the wad of tissue he was pressing against his bleeding nose.

“I’m here on behalf of Master Kim Seokjin.”

“Why? It’s the fucking other Kim that screwed me over. Couldn’t get rid of a fucking body after I paid him a fortune …”

“I’m sure you have plenty of money to splurge from time to time without problems. Afterall, Kim Namjoon himself paid you a fortune monthly to give him that extra bit of legal protection that you didn’t offer to Master Kim Seokjin.”

“Business is business, kid. Seokjin should know that if he wants special treatment then he should offer special treatment in exchange. Namjoon understood that and made sure that if it ever came down to it he’d benefit from my support all the way til the end.”

“Perhaps Master Kim doesn’t understand that kind of … business. He prefers simplicity and he demands only one thing from all his men and that’s loyalty.”

“What are you here for actually?”

Jungkook smiles. This is something he enjoys doing, this is something he knows how to do with his eyes closed.

“I have a few tools in that briefcase. I don’t know who beat you up before I got the chance but believe me, I can do way worse. You can either confess to murdering your wife and child and hiding the bodies or you can test me and see just how much damage I can do to you in 10 minutes.”

“I’m not confessing anything!  I can win this in court!”

“As I said, Master Kim prefers simplicity. Confess or I die a painful death. It’s easy.”

“You can’t do this to me…”

“You did it to yourself. What idiot messes with the Kims?”


Taehyung was sitting on the welcome mat, leaning back against Hoseok’s door. He drained his phone battery watching cat videos to kill the time and now had to resort to just humming to himself songs which lyrics he couldn’t remember well.

It was evening when Hoseok finally arrived, the sound of the motorcycle engine familiar to Taehyung’s ears. He looked tiredly at the man and scoffed at the huge bouquet he was holding.

“Are those for me?”

“How long have you been waiting? C’mon, let’s go inside, it’s getting cold.”

“Are they?”

“Yeah … I didn’t know if you liked roses.”

“I never got any before.”

Taehyung was surprised at how heavy the bunch of flowers actually was and couldn’t help himself from smelling them. Sweet but subtle and they were tied with a purple ribbon. He followed Hoseok inside without another word.

The place looked different, like a bunch of maids had been set loose inside. Everything was clean and organized and there was nothing tossed haphazardly anywhere. Taehyung took off his shoes, brow raised high in suspicion.

“I cleaned up.” Hoseok shyly explained.

“What’s next? You’re gonna tell me you have avocados in the fridge?”

“I do actually but I have no idea how you’re supposed to eat them.”


Hoseok took Taehyung’s hand and led him to the sofa, placing the huge bouquet aside  on the coffee table and stealing himself before talking.

“I’ve started drinking back in highschool and I’ve told myself for years that I only did that to be a rebellious teenager and not because of my extremely strict father. I continued drinking throughout my years at the academy because that’s what most did to be able to deal with the gruesome side of our future jobs and of course I was still drinking when we met because I am a failed cop and I don’t like having to deal with that on the daily.”

Taehyung scooted closer and took his hands in his own, squeezing his fingers reassuringly.

“I never told anyone I was gay … or bi or whatever. My father would have killed me and I don’t mean that metaphorically. The academy … the Force in general is no place for non straights or non macho bros in general. I guess I internalized a lot of things …”

Taehyung leaned in and nuzzled his cheek, then rested his head on Hoseok’s shoulder.

“I have issues, Tae… But I’m trying to get better. I signed up for AA and I stopped smoking and I cleaned up and I even folded my clothes …”

The kiss interrupted his rambling, short and sweet.

“I don’t wanna lose you …” he whispered against Taehyung’s lips, afraid, about to burst out of his skin.

“Shhh… I’m not going anywhere.”

Taehyung kissed him again, deeper, hungrier. Their teeth clashed and their tongues met, messily, lips swollen from the force of it. Hoseok was buzzing, shivers going up and down his body, making every hair on him stand up as goosebumps littered his skin. Taehyung was hot in his hold but he needed more, he needed to feel that heat against the palms of his hands unrestricted. They tore at each other’s clothes.

The younger claimed back his spot on top of Hoseok, pinning his arms above his head as soon as his shirt was off. He went for his neck, biting and sucking and licking and marking him as his all the way down to his collar bones.

“I’ve missed you so much, angel …”

“Taetae … want you so badly …”

Taehyung smilled wickedly and latched on to his nipples, nipping at the pebbled buds, making Hoseok keen and whimper and rut against the younger. Their pants were off next along with the underwear and they were finally able to feel each other unrestrictedly, hands roaming everywhere, honey toned bodies getting sweatier and hotter with each caress, each squeeze.

Hoseok’s cock was hard as a rock, leaking and flushed and Taehyung gave it a few licks before swallowing it down til the base, making his lover scream and buck up. He went up and down the shaft, coating in spit before pulling off.

“Look at you, baby … so desperate for me. Want me to eat you out, huh? Get you all wet and begging for me?”

“Yeah, yeah, please …”

Hoseok shifted and turned, settling on his hands and knees, back arched beautifully, presenting his fluttering hole to Taehyung without the younger having to request him to. He was surprised and delighted, unable to hold back his smile before diving right in. Hoseok whimpered and moaned shamelessly after each lap of his lover’s tongue over his rim. He relaxed and hardly even felt the first finger breaching him.

“More …” he asked sweetly.

“Yeah, angel? Missed being fucked open by me?”

“Missed it so much… Please …”

He added a second finger and began scissoring him, the muscles of his entrance pliant under his touch, opening up easily.

When Taehyung curled his fingers Hoseok jolted and almost came. He could feel tears pricking his eyes and his cock was leaking all over the sofa.

“Please, s’too much … just …”

“Just fuck you? Is that what you wanted to say?”

“Yeah …”

“Then say it, baby, let me hear you.”

“Taetae, please … please…”


“Please fuck me! Please!”

“Good boy.”

Hoseok moaned at the praise but whined when at the loss of fingers and tongue in his ass. He turned over and spread his legs and convinced Taehyung with his grabby hands to lay over him in a tight embrace. It’s in that position that Taehyung thrusted in blindly, kissing the moans from Hoseok’s lips and grunting at the delicious grip around his shaft.

“You’re so tight, baby … Always so tight … It drives me mad, you feel so good …”

“Taetae, move …”

“Hold on, angel.”

He began a brutal pace, holding onto Hoseok tightly and lifting his hips so that he hit the older’s prostate with each merciless thrust. Hoseok was screaming at this point, overstimulated and high on the pleasure, the neighbor lady banging on the wall so loudly a picture frame was swaying.

“Gonna cum … gonna fill you up … make you mine …”

“Yours …”

“Fuck, baby, fuck …”

It took him five more thrusts before spilling his load deep inside Hoseok then he kept on grinding, his hips unable to still. Hoseok came soon after, filling full and blissful.

They dozed off, exhausted and content, not caring about the angry neighbor lady or Hoseok’s phone that was vibrating furiously in his discarded jeans on the floor. It could wait, it could all wait at least this one time.

Chapter Text

Hoseok woke up with a start. It had been so hot the entire night with Taehyung on top of him under the fluffy doona, they sweated like crazy but refused to budge, heated bodies stuck together throughout the night. But now, in the blue tinted morning light, Hoseok felt cold, a small shiver making the hair on his arms stand. Taehyung wasn’t in bed and he felt a knot in his stomach. He thought about them, about the night before and how the younger promised that he wouldn’t leave again. Were they just empty words? He was afraid to find out.


No answer, the name echoed emptily in his bedroom. Hoseok let out a defeated sigh and trudged towards the bathroom to relieve himself and splash cold water on his face and the back of his neck. He felt an itch under his skin and he knew what it was, addiction pulling on him whenever he was down and he was down most of the time. He stubbornly ignored it, brushed his teeth with fury and when it became too much to ignore he slapped some nicotine patches on and chugged water straight from the tap until he felt he couldn’t drink another drop.

When he looked in the mirror again he had a scowl on his face and he guesses that this is his normal face now, constantly frowning and bitter. Who would want to be with such a man? The hickeys littering his neck begged to differ however and Hoseok touched them with longing. He won’t be able to hide them under any shirt, they went too high up his neck, all the way til under his left ear. He remembered how it felt when Taehyung bit him over and over again, claiming him like a starved animal. He bit back too, in a daze, trying to let the younger know that he was just as willing, just as desperate. Had he not been clear enough?

Hoseok dragged himself out of the bathroom, scratching lazily at his bare torso as he crossed the living room towards the kitchen. There he froze midstep.

Taehyung was there. real, flesh and blood Taehyung was there, a pot of fresh coffee just taken off the stove and sandwiches on a plate by his side, he was watching something on Hoseok’s laptop and he was wearing one of Hoseok’s shirts.

The older couldn’t resist, quickly closing the distance, startling the dancer as he picked him up and spun him round, clumsily connecting their lips.

“What...” Kiss. “is” Kiss “happening?” Kiss.

“I thought you left.” Hoseok tells him, breathlessly.

“I said I wouldn’t, you silly baby.” Taehyung cupped his face and waited a few moments until the other calmed his breathing before kissing him stupid again. “I made breakfast.”

“What’s that?”

“Avocado toast. I googled it.”

They laughed and Hoseok curiously took a bite, grinning happily when the flavor burst on his tongue. Taehyung smiled, pleased with himself and quickly closed all the tabs on Hoseok’s laptop before powering it off.

“Eat up, you gotta take your pill before leaving. I also packed you lunch, nothing too fancy, just a basic bento box.I got too carried away on Pinterest.”

“You found my pills?”

“They weren’t exactly hiding.” Taehyung laughed and grabbed some toast for himself, leaning against the counter. “How long do you have to take those for?”

“Not sure, they’re supposed to help with the craving but it’s an addiction, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to kick it …”

“You will.” the younger said with determination.

“You could too …” Hoseok said carefully.

“I’m a user not an addict. Once I’ll fix my problems I’ll be able to kick it.”

“You can’t go back to the Sugarglider, Tae.”

“Why? You found nothing, right? You never do. That was the fifth or something raid we’ve been through.”

“Your employer’s a bad man, Taehyung.”

“I know, I’ve known him longer than you have, I’m well aware of what he’s capable of.”

“We need to put him away but we’ve got nothing … all the leads end up being a dead end…”

Hoseok groaned and reached for the pot of coffee, pouring himself a generous mug and not bothering with any sugar. It was bitter and it fit with his mood.

“You’ve gotta have something on him. There’s no fire without smoke.”

“I shouldn’t be talking to you about this …”

“My lips are sealed.” he smiles and Hoseok melts.

“We’ve got some leads, some info, but it’s not enough until we can actually link it all together. It’s nothing specifically aimed at Kim Seokjin, a lot of it is about the men around him and that’s just gonna get tossed aside as contextual evidence not actual proof. We don’t even have a parking ticket on this guy, nothing to warrant a full scale investigation …”

“You’d need insider information. Someone that works closely with him.”

“Yeah well…we’ve got someone it’s just that …he’s risking enough as it is.”

Taehyung frowns and lifts Hoseok’s chin up with his long fingers, kissing him deeply, squeezing his hands reassuringly.

“I’m sure you’ll get the bad guy, officer Jung.”

“Yah, don’t call me that!”

“Why? Gets you going?” the younger smirks.

“First of all it’s special agent Jung.”

“You were really hot in that SWAT uniform. I saw you storming the place right after I got out. Had to take a few moments to will my dick down before I was able to run away.”

“Hmm… want me to bring it? Tear down the door of the bedroom, cuff you and read your rights?”

“Ah shit, would you? Would you rough me up and bend me over and have me lick your boots clean …?”

“Holy shit, Tae …”

That was a lot of information to take in and Hoseok was still processing it as the younger licked into his mouth and crawled on his lap where he was sitting on the small chair by the counter. He had no clue that he was harboring such fantasies, not when he had been nothing but dominant since they’ve met. Maybe this was a sign of trust, maybe Taehyung was finally opening up to him. Hoseok smilled into the wet kiss and placed a hand on the younger’s hip while the other moved to his tiny butt to knead it. Taehyung whimpered and grinded down, both of them hard already.

“Don’t go anywhere …” Hoseok asked in a small voice. ”Stay here, take the day off, relax. I can’t bear the thought of you going back to that place. Please, let me take care of you.”

Taehyung looked at him with a bittersweet smile on his lips.

“Oh, angel, you treat me so sweetly always … I’ll stay, just for a few days. But then I’ll have to go, I need to sort some things out, I can’t just walk away like that …”

“Tae, I lo…”

A series of sharp bangs startled them both. The front door was shaking with the force of them.

“Hobi, you up? Open the door.”

“Yoonji, for fuck’s sake, give me a minute!”

“I don’t care if you’re butt naked! Open up! Kim got out!”




Jungkook tried to get more comfortable on the plush armchair but he couldn’t, muscles tense with anticipation and unknown fear. It was the first time that he was allowed in Seokjin’s private quarters and he was surprised to say the least. The rooms looked like something out of a fairytale castle, tall windows against even taller walls, elegant vintage furniture and huge flower displays, everything in a dusty, pastel pink color and soft fabrics, silks and lace. It looked extremely feminine in the most cliché sense of the word. Jungkook stopped fidgeting the second he heard the shower being turned off in the adjoining bathroom. He gulped and waited stiffly for Seokjin to exit. He couldn’t hold in the soft gasp when he did.

Seokjin was wearing a pink, silky house robe. Only a pink, silky house robe. His hair was damp and his lips shone, probably with lipbalm.

“You look really good in a suit, Gukkie, have I told you that before?”

“No… Thank you, Master Kim.”

“You did well yesterday. Did you have to beat him up badly for the confession?” Seokjin asked as he sat himself gingerly on the arms of the seat where Jungkook was.

“No, he was already hurt pretty badly. The cops did a number on him.” Jungkook answered and tried to not stare at where the robe opened and could see down Seokjin’s muscular chest.

“Those two officers … One of them is a Min.”

“Do you want me to look into them, Master Kim?”

“Yes, we should keep our eyes open. I have a very bad feeling about all this.”

“How so?”

“Call it intuition.”

Seokjin leans down, brushing his hand through Jungkook’s hair and the younger shivers. He’s  been here before, Seokjin touching him without his consent, engulfing him in his sweet scent and powerful body. He remembers the coffin and all fight dies in him within seconds. The older kisses his cheek, light, butterfly kisses.

“You really are dependable, aren’t you Gukkie? Not just bark, you do bite as well. When you rolled Tao’s head at my feet I laughed. You looked so raggedy and crazed, starved yourself for days while on your hunt just to get a big enough game to impress me but I thought you were all show. My mistake I guess …”

Seokjin stands, grabbing Jungkook’s wrists and pulling him up with him. The younger follows without hesitation, letting himself be manhandled like a doll, letting his owner take off his suit jacket and tie and belt …

Seokjin kisses him and Jungkook flinches slightly. The taller’s hand comes up to keep him steady, his tongue licking against the tight seam of his lips until he gives in and then he dives right in, tasting him insatiably. Jungkook surprises himself and kisses back, a struggle inside him between his mind and body. Seokjin bites his lip and he whimpers.

“Take off your shoes, Gukkie…” Seokjin whispers and the other obeys, toeing his shoes off and quickly discarding his socks as well. “So obedient … Your shirt now too.”

Jungkook follows the instruction, mechanically unbuttoning. His mind is blank and his cheeks are burning, he feels somewhat in a daze. There’s nothing unpleasant about what they are doing other than the invisible threat that is Seokjin’s fickle temper.

Once the shirt falls to the floor and Jungkook’s torso is exposed, Seokjin wastes no time, hands roaming everywhere, across every dip and curve, lips sucking fervently against the column of his neck, down to his collarbones and pert nipples, making the youngling whimper loudly. He flicks his tongue over them, biting gently from time to time, his hands squeezing the small, trim waist. Jungkook is getting hard despite his mental turmoil.

“You’ll always do what I say, won’t you?” Seokjin asks as he pauses his ministrations.

“Yes, Master Kim.” the answer comes without hesitation.

“You’ll protect me, won’t you? Kill anyone for me, do anything …”

“Yes, Master Kim.”

“What you told me back then at the swimming pool … it’s still true, isn’t it? You do love me, don’t you, Gukkie?”

“Yes … You’re all I have.”

Seokjin forgives him for not using the honorific, forgives him for shaking like a leaf while he says it. He quickly works open the button and fly of the dress pants and they soon fall to the plush carpet as well, along with the rest of Jungkook’s clothes.

Seokjin reaches inside his boxers, grabbing the hard length like he owns it, giving it a few pumps just to see the boy’s knees buckle. He holds him steady with his other hand, kissing him again as deep as he can, stealing his breath away.

“You’re so hard, Gukkie … is it because of me?”

“Yes … ah, yes …”

“Tell me, darling, are you afraid of me?”

Jungkook hesitates, looking away.

“Are  you?” Seokjin insists and strokes the boy’s length faster making him keen.

“Yes … I’m scared …”


“’Cause … I don’t wanna go back in the coffin … Ah, I don’t wanna … disappoint you … don’t wanna be sent away … ah, ah … I’ve got nowhere to go … I wanna be good … wanna be … the best …”

Seokjin lets go of him and he almost slumps to the floor but strong arms catch him and hold him steady as they back step towards the huge, canopy bed. Seokjin lays down on his back, robe falling over his shoulder exposing his chest and abs. He looks absolutely sinful and Jungkook has to hold on to one of the bed posts to keep himself upright. His cock is absolutely throbbing in the tight confines of the fabric. He can see that his master is also hard, the tent in the silk visible and big. He gulps, afraid of what is to come.

“I’m afraid of you too, Gukkie. I’m afraid that I’m going to put all my trust in you and you’ll betray me, I’m afraid that I’ll never have someone I can depend upon by my side ever again, I’m afraid that I scare people so much nobody will ever want to get near me again …”

“I won’t leave … even when I’m afraid … I won’t leave you … I promise …”

“Take those off, Guk, come here.”

Jungkook carefully peels his boxers away, the front soaked in precum and tosses them in the pile. He’s unsure of his actions but carefully climbs on the soft bed, limbs uncoordinated, red cock bobbing between his legs as he brackets Seokjin between his shaky arms.

“Touch me, Gukkie, it’s ok …”

Jungkook is scared but he must obey. He lays his hands on Seokjin as if touching a wild animal, feeling the sinew of muscles, hard and powerful, the softness of his heated skin, he parts the robe further, delving in like his reaching between the bars of a tiger’s cage.

Jungkook is well built but Seokjin is broader, taller, bigger, he can easily over power him. Seeing him laid under him like this gives him whiplash, he doesn’t know what to believe but he’s curios.

“Can I take this off?” he asks.


Jungkook slips the delicate robe off exposing Jin fully. The younger’s eyes trail from his abs to the deep v shaped muscles that lead to his narrow hips and finally land on his dripping wet cock. Seokjin’s well endowed, more length than girth and his tight balls look full and aching for release.

Jungkook is suddenly hit once more with the notion that Seokjin is a man. A beautiful one, with plushy lips and pink nipples and a small waist but a man nonetheless.  He’s got muscles and a cock and Jungkook just doesn’t know what to do with all that. This was the worst time for him to be debating his own sexuality.

“Like what you see?”

“You’re really handsome …” he says truthfully.

“Just handsome?”

Seokjin looks disappointed and Jungkook desperately searches for a better word.

“Beautiful.” he decides and hopes he’s correct.

Seokjin smiles and the younger almost lets out a sigh of relief. He watches as Jin reaches out under the pillow above and pulls out a beautiful bottle of clear gel and hands it to him.

“Open me up, Gukkie.”

His eyes go wide in panic. He’s never done this before, not to himself, not to others and what did this mean? Did Jin want him to …

“Don’t be scared, darling. Just coat your fingers with the lube and take your time. I’ll guide you through it.”

Jungkook is shell shocked. He mechanically opens the cap and pours way too much of the stuff in his hand, making it drip on the sheets as well. He splutters some apologies and very carefully touches his fingers to Seokjin’s rim. He doesn’t know what to do further so he guesses and starts caressing the spot, coating it in slick.

“Go ahead, give me a finger …”

He takes a sharp inhale before doing so. Seokjin’s tight and hot and he hesitates before pumping his digit in and out shallowly. It feels weird and kinda gross and Jungkook is going soft. After a minute or so Seokjin asks for another. He pushes a second finger in and feels the muscle relax around them, almost sucking him in. It feels dry after a while and he’s instructed to add more lube. Jungkook stupidly realizes that asses are not like pussies and he’s scared when he’s told to add a third finger. At this point Seokjin is panting under him, face flushed red and eyes hooded with lust. When Jungkook’s fingers cramp and he curls them a bit to relieve the pain Seokjin jolts and moans.

“I’m sorry!”

“No, darling, it’s good … it’s so good … do it again.”

Jungkook doesn’t understand what just happened but he repeats the motion and watches Seokjin writhe under him in pleasure. It’s such a bizarre sight. He expected  Jin to be doing this to him, to be the dominant, powerful master that he always is yet Jin was sprawled on pink silk, slick gushing out of his hole, moaning Jungkook’s name like … a woman. Jungkook’s head spun.

“C’mon, Gukkie, I can’t wait any longer, I need you … get inside me …”

Jungkook panics. He was soft. Jin might take this the wrong way, might feel insulted … Jungkook leans in, kissing Seokjin stupid, tongue caressing the inside of his mouth sloppily, only stopping to nip and bite on the plush lips, making the older shudder and moan, grabbing on to his back and scratching him lightly.

In the meantime Jungkook was jacking off furiously. He thought of sexy things, of porn he’s watched, of that one time he fucked Taehyung’s throat but nothing seemed enough, only managing to get him a half chub. Then he remembered the girl at the bar, the sweet little thing with slim legs and a sharp tongue, how she grabbed on to his hair and pushed his face to her core, how good she tasted, how silky her lips were, how round and soft her breasts were. When he remembered her calling him “bunny” he was fully hard and he blindly thrust into Seokjin, missing his entrance a few times before finally feeling himself engulfed by an absurdly tight heat. Jin moaned, back arching.

Jungkook buried his face in the crook of the older’s neck, eyes shut closed and grateful for the sweet cologne instead of the smell of aftershave. He let his imagination take over as he bucked aggressively and sloppily into Jin.

“Shit, you feel so good … fill me up so well, Gukkie …”

Seokjin’s whispers distracted him so he shoved his fingers into his mouth, the older eagerly beginning to suck on them. He wanted this to be over with as soon as possible. He could feel the hard member trapped between their sweaty bodies, he knows that he’ll be soon covered in another man’s cum.

Jungkook tried to conjure up a better fantasy, one that involved the petite brunette from the bar. He imagined her riding him, her sharp little nails leaving crescents on his chest, her breasts bouncing enticingly. He wanted to suck on them, wanted to grab onto her pale thighs and buck up into her, make her gush pussy juices, make her squirt all over him.

He was getting close, the friction so tight and good around his shaft. He moaned and grunted and after a few more violent thrusts he came with a shout, ropes and ropes of cum painting Seokjin’s insides white. He felt wet and he knew that the older finished as well. He didn’t want to open his eyes, didn’t want to acknowledge any of this.  

Thankfully Seokjin pushed him off and onto the side of the bed where Jungkook buried his face in the pillows. He felt the mattress dip as Seokjin went to the bathroom to clean up. What just happened?

Seokjin had forced him to do things against his will again and Jungkook is once more in awe of the power this man holds over others. It’s terrifying and fascinating at the same time. Jungkook could only dream for now of ever having this much dominion over others.

But another thought hit him as he lay there on the princess worthy bed. He had fucked Kim Seokjin. He had seen Kim Seokjin turn into a whimpering mess for his cock. He turned over and looked at the elegant canopy, the flowery dressing screen, the fancy vanity, the heaps of roses on the side tables. A small clock told him it had been two hours,  the day fading away into early afternoon. By the clock there was a silver locket.

Jungkook listened intently for the sounds coming from the bathroom. The tap of the sink was running, Seokjin was still cleaning up. He leaned in, curiosity pushing him, and quickly opened the locket. He raised his brows in confusion but before he had time to process anything he put the pendant back and laid again against the pillows just as Seokjin walked back in, wearing a pair of lacy panties.

Jungkook smiled and Seokjin smiled back, unknowingly. The younger now knew that Kim Seokjin had a weakness after all.


 “He’s untouchable, I swear to fuck that son of a bitch shook hands with the devil or something, how could he just walk away like that?!”

Hoseok watched Yoonji have her meltdown with a small twinkle in his eyes. He missed Yoongi, he missed hearing the cussing and the banter in his gruff voice and thick Daegu accent that always came out when he was angry. Watching Yoonji move with the same small waddle in her step, the bad posture and the little quirks like poking her tongue in her cheek in annoyance reminded him of their childhood, of a time when they only had to worry about their dads not catching them playing hooky from school.

“Fuck him, we don’t have time to waste on Kim Seokjin now, we gotta find a way to keep our operation going.”

“He’s the only one we sorta have something on!”

“Sorta is not gonna hold up in front of the Sup or in court. We found nothing at his club, that asshole took back his statement that he bought drugs from him and confessed to the murder, as far as the law is concerned Kim Seokjin is an innocent man. So let’s drop him for now. Yoongi is with the lower Kim clan, let’s try and find something from that end.”

“Shit’s even vaguer on Kim Namjoon’s side, that man is extremely private, he doesn’t drive around in a Maserati on a Sunday afternoon just to flex!”

“There’s gotta be something, c’mon, let’s look through those damned files again …”

Hoseok paused, trying to power up his laptop for the third time. Yoonji was already on hers, eyes skimming quickly over the names and numbers she almost knew by heart now.

“Let’s make this efficient, I’ll go through the names, you go through the images … C’mon, Hobi!”

“Yeah, yeah, hold on, something’s wrong with my laptop…”

“Just use the desktop, we don’t have time!”

“I have some notes on here, hold up …”

It powered up on the fifth attempt and Hoseok was sure that he had gotten a virus or something because the screen was grey for a while then started displaying numbers and letters at a pace too fast for the eye to follow.

“That’s some Matrix bullshit, did you catch a Trojan or something?”

Suddenly the screen goes black and then two video files open at the same time.

“What the …”

“What’s that? Looks like security footage.” Yoonji leans in, looking at the videos intently.

“That one’s the Sugarglider.” Hoseok almost jumps from his seat. “We looked everywhere for cameras but they said they don’t have any on the inside to protect the privacy of the clients and workers.”

“Well they obviously lied! Ah but it’s so poorly lit … Except that part!”

“That’s the bar … Fuck, look at the time stamp, this is from months ago.”

“Around the time the murder could have taken place. How long’s the video?”

“Four hours long. Shit. What are we even looking for?” Hoseok  presses the forward button, both officers scanning the footage as best as they can for anything that could stand out. A few minutes pass like this in tense silence.

“Fuck, there, pause it!”

“Motherfucker! He did say he was a client though …”

“That’s a wad of cash he’s handing to that bartender, no cocktail costs that much.”

“It’s suspicious, sure, but it’s not clear enough … What’s the other vid?” Hoseok asks, biting the inside of his cheek nervously.

“Some fancy club … They’re playing cards at that table.”

“They’re playing poker, Yoonji, or did you forget that one time I beat both your asses and you and Yoongi had to strip down to your undies?”

“Repressed memories aside, that’s illegal.”

“There’s no money on the table, they’re very careful about this. Ah, look, there’s the attorney general, far end side of that table.”

“Great. Drugs, murder and now illegal gambling. This guy’s a douche.”

“Speaking of douches, the dude with the chick on his lap, looks familiar …”

“Shit, Hobi, that’s Kim Namjoon!”

They watch carefully, the grainy footage making it difficult. They see the people at the table play and drink and laugh, they watch their suspect as he exchanges unknown words with Kim Namjoon and the other lifts his glass to salute him, they seem to be on very good terms.  After a few minutes they see another man walking in and going towards Kim Namjoon, talking to him for a bit. The short blonde hops off the mobster’s lap, kissing him goodbye and leaving with the man. When he turns, both officers gasp.

“That’s …”

“Yeah, that’s Yoongi.”


Jimin’s close to finishing, his small hand almost cramping around the fountain pen. His daddy said cursive so he did his best to make sure the calligraphy didn’t get sloppier with each page. 964 … I love you. The words lost more and more of their meaning after each row. Jimin was getting tired, the sun was setting beautifully, the warm light making his room seem golden. He put aside his papers and pen and went to his dresser, sifting through the bottom drawer where he kept his shawls and fur collars, digging under their soft weight to pull out a cellphone. He smiled excitedly as he dialed one of his only two contacts.


“Chimchim! Hey! I haven’t heard from you in so long! How are you?!”

“I’m fine, bored out of my mind like usual … Whatcha doin?”


“Whatcha making?”

“Just some bibimbap.”

“Sounds yummy, wish I could come over …”

“Oh, I’m … I’m not at my place…”


“Yeah … I sorta met someone…”

“Holy shit! Taetae that’s great ! But … isn’t it…”

“Dangerous? Yeah, I guess, I don’t know … He never told me I couldn’t date anyone. I guess he assumed I’d never want to …”

“Daddy would kill me if I dated someone else.”

“Well, what about Min Yoongi then?”

“We’re not … we’re just fooling around. I love daddy more.”

“More? That means you love him too.”

“No, Taetae, don’t be an idiot!”

“Chim, you know I worry about you … I need you to be safe, you understand that, don’t you? Please don’t upset Kim Namjoon. I’m not his biggest fan but he does take care of you …”

“He takes care of me really well, Tae. I have everything I could ever want, I sleep in a huge bed and I have tons of clothes and all the food I could ever eat, he … cares about me.”

There’s silence for a while and it weighs heavy. Taehyung doesn’t comment further, let’s Jimin come to his own conclusions.

“I think something’s happening …” the blond eventually says, changing the subject.

“Yeah, there’s been a bit of back and forth with the police.”

“Nam…Daddy said we have rats. I’m worried.”

“Don’t be, you’re safe there. Yoongi will take care of you.”

“Yoongi … I gotta go now, Taetae. Have fun! Next time we talk I want you to tell me aaaaaall about this person you’re dating!”

“Yah, don’t be so nosy!”

“I’m your bestest friend, I have the right to know!”

They laugh before hanging up, Jimin carefully hiding the phone back under his furs. He smiles still thinking about Taehyung, happy that he had finally found somebody, that maybe he can be happy now, maybe even escape Seokjin … That was probably wishful thinking. He sat back at his desk, grabbing the fountainpen once more. He thought about Yoongi.  965. I love you.


Choi Siwon looked at the duo with barely concealed annoyance. They were a menace and if it wasn’t for Min Yoongi’s incredible reputation before the failed mission he wouldn’t have ever agreed to work with them. They were chaotic and couldn’t respect rules or authority and while he might find that a bit charming in regards to Min Yoonji it was absolutely infuriating coming from loud mouth Jung Hoseok.

“I don’t want to hear a word from you. Min, talk to me, tell me what you have.”

“But, Sir…”

“Shut it, Hobi. Sir, we received today from an unknown source undisclosed video footage from the Sugarglier, Kim Seokjin’s establishment and from what we identified as The Monster Plaza, Kim Namjoon’s casino themed private club. The attorney general appears in both footages around the estimated date of his wife’s murder. The suspect confessed to having frequented both establishments and knowing the Kims personally. After carefully examining the surveillance footage we noticed a few suspicious activities that could warrant further investigation.”

“This better be good …”

“At Kim Namjoon’s club there seems to be illegal gambling taking place as well as suspicious under the table trades. At Kim Seokjin’s club we found evidence that the staff tending to the bar waters down the alcohol and spikes drinks while the clients are not paying attention. Also we suspect that some of the dancers also might be engaging in illegal prostitution. All these are good enough reasons to establish a team and begin further investigation.” Yoonji concludes, and looks over to Hoseok confirming that she didn’t forget anything.

The Superintendent looks over their hastily done report. He’s relieved although he won’t say it. The two managed to pull through in the very last second.

“Min Yoongi can be seen on the surveillance.”

“Yes, Sir.” they both answer.

Siwon smiles a little.

“Go home, get some rest. Tomorrow you need to find people for your team and take these sons of bitches down already.”

Chapter Text

“Wassup, sluts?”

“Oh look what the cat finally dragged in!”

“Bitch, where the fuck have you been?! We’ve gotten our asses raided by the police!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time you spread it in the name of the law.” Taehyung bites back, jumping on the tall bar stool. It was early, the cleaners still busy polishing the floors and wiping the tables. The Sugarglider was such a desolate place in the daytime.

“You’re lucky nobody snitched to the boss.” Keumjo said as she was doing her nails some pretty shade of blue. “He would have flayed you.”

“He would have liked it.” Taemin laughed. “You bitches want something to drink?”

“It’s fucking 2 in the afternoon!” Taehyung pointed out.

“So … Mimosas?”



“Thought so.”

“C’mon, spill it, Tae. Where were you?” Keumjo pushes while waving her hands around to make the nail polish dry faster.

“Got bored and like an idiot I got glassed for the first time. Felt like shit for a whole day after that …” Taehyung lies without even blinking.


“Yeah. Does that count as a sick day?”

They laugh and Taemin serves them their mimosas.

“You gotta be more careful, this joint would go to shit without you.” The girl says and starts shaking a bottle of top coat.

“They can always bring back Hyojong.”

“Ah, fuck that bitch! All he did was hang off of the boss’ cock, I swear he was obsessed.”

“Pipe it, Taem, you’re just jealous. Hyojong’s  E’dawn now and his stuff sells so well he can afford to literally bury his two fucking lovers in cash. He went from being Kim’s cocksleeve, no offense Tae, to being a main provider and distributer. Your skinny ass could never!”

“Fucking watch me bitch! Once he promotes Tae here to something awesome he’ll be looking for someone else to warm his bed and I’ll be here waiting, ass waxed and ready to go!”

“Except that he won’t be promoting me to anything, I’m not good at anything …”

“What about your side hustle, with the fake ids and shit?”

“Any of his lackeys can do that. Besides, I like where I am right now. I like working the pole.”  Taehyung finishes his drink and places his hands flat on the bar counter. “Do my nails too!”

Keumjo nods and starts vigorously shaking the nail polish bottle again, her breasts jiggling funnily with the motion. Taemin calls her saggy and she slaps him, making Taehyung scoff at their stupidity.

“Yeah, well…” Taemin picks up the conversation again. “You can’t do that forever. None of us can. Either the cops are gonna one day finally find something or we catch something or Kim just gets into one of his moods and we’re done for …”

“I really don’t need your fucking gloom, Taemin.”

“I’m just saying … Sometimes I’m up there dancing and it feels so right and I start daydreaming about someone, I don’t even know who, but someone that would just walk in and our eyes would meet and I’d know, I’d just know that they could drag me outta here and I’d be safe and I’d never have to come back, I could forget about Kim and this job and everything …”

“That’s wishful thinking …” Keumjo’s hand wavers for a second and gets blue nail polish on Taehyung’s finger. She quickly wipes it away with a napkin before it gets the chance to dry. The boy pays it no mind.

“It could happen.”

“You’re both idiots. Kim would murder you both for talking about leaving.”

“Don’t worry, the day I leave is the day this place comes crumbling down.” Taehyung jokes but there’s no humor behind his words.


“Jeon, ‘sup?”

Jungkook grunted, the hello causing him to lose count of his jumps. He stopped, panting from the effort and threw the jump rope aside.

“The name’s Kim now. Fuck do you want?”

“Sheesh, grew an attitude, didn’t you?”

“Grew in rank too so better watch your mouth, Himchan. Just cause your bro is tight with Master Kim doesn’t mean you can give me shit whenever you want.”

“Just wanted to hang out, you don’t have to get all up in my face like that …”

“I’m tryinna  work out here, don’t have time for small talk.”

The gym really put Jungkook in some sort of mood. The more he worked out the more he realized how much he’s lacking, how weak his body still is. He refused to see the progress made so far, eyes only set on the long road ahead. He still felt inadequate; still felt he was being treated like a child even after becoming Master Kim’s most trusted man. He still had so much more to prove.

“We can work out, that’s cool. Wanna do some lifting? I’ll spot for you.”

Jungkook says nothing and Himchan takes that as an ok. When the younger lays himself down he quickly takes his place by his head. He holds back a comment on how he’s attempting to lift too much without a proper warm up and just watches as Jungkook’s muscles bulge with the effort, a few veins popping on the side of his arms and neck. He benches almost twice his body weight five times and then takes a breather.

“Yikes, you really bulked up since ya joined us.”

“I didn’t come here to fuck around.” Is all Jungkook says before doing five more lifts. He takes another breather, shorter than the previous and finally starts sweating after the third set.

“You tryinna beat Master Kim’s record or sumthin?”

“How much can he press?”

“134 kilos last anybody’s seen.”

“Well then… add some weight.”

“C’mon man, that’s too much, you ain’t got enough training yet.”

“Either you do it or I do it. Quit being a bitch if you wanna hang out so badly.”

Himchan just shakes his head, regretting even talking to the boy in the first place. He adds the weights and makes sure they are secure. He puts a pair of workout gloves on and grabs hold of the bar, convinced that he’ll have to lift it off Jungkook before it breaks his neck soon enough. The younger smirks, noticing his mistrust.  He lays down and grabs hold of the bar, breathing in deeply before lifting. His face and chest turn dark red and his arms quiver with the effort. He benches the 134 kilos three times before giving up. Nonetheless Himchan whistles in amazement.

“You some type of Avenger, I swear.”

Jungkook scoffs and reaches for his bottle of water, downing half of it in a breath.

“Gotta be strong enough to lift Master Kim.”

“Dafuq do you need to be lifting Master Kim for?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Jungkook laughs.


Jimin was once again bored and this came as no surprise. Most days he could feel his youth wasting away inside closed walls.  But he knows he should be grateful to even have a youth. It was a small price to pay after all, limited freedom in exchange for a good life. Nonetheless the silence was getting to him. Also the fumes from all the bleach on his head. He pulled out his secret phone and stared at it for a moment. He could call Tae as always, he was probably warming up for work around this time… In stead, on a whim, he hits Yoongi’s number. It rings only twice before he hears the man’s gruff voice.

“Are you ok?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? What could possibly happen to me? I’m inside all day.”

Yoongi picked up easily on the bitterness in his tone and sighed audibly into the receiver.

“What are you doing?”

“Bleaching my hair … waiting for the chemicals to do their thing. It’s getting me kinda high.”

“Jimin, open a window, for fuck’s sake …”

“Why? I’m not allowed to do drugs or drink, I don’t even have   prescription pills around the house. This is the only thing close to dizzy as I’m gonna get. Besides… I can’t open the windows.”


“Blocked and wired with alarms for my own safety.”

“That sounds stupid.”

“ It is. Makes the temptation of jumping even worse.”

Yoongi said nothing at that and Jimin just listened to him breathe for a while. He shouldn’t have said that, it sounded less depressing in his head but now Yoongi probably thought he was suicidal. He needed to change the subject.

“I’m really bored … What are you doing?”

“Just work … Files and emails and shit.”

“You sound like a CEO.”

“That’s a compliment I don’t deserve. The files are on men I’m supposed to whack.”

“I could whack them for you.”

Yoongi laughs and it makes Jimin pout.

“What? I live around gangsters, I can handle it.”

“I’m sure you can, Minnie.”

That just rolled off his tongue involuntarily but it was too late to take it back. The younger said nothing, Yoongi only heard some clinking sounds in the background.

“Why do you have to kill people?”

“It’s my job.”

“I know that, I mean, why do you have to kill those people in particular?”

“Namjoon says they are not trustworthy. Given our current situation we can’t take any risks.”

“You know I’ve never seen him kill someone …” Jimin muses, fiddling with the label on the bottle of conditioner. “I’ve seen you come ‘round with blood on your clothes and I’ve seen you beat people to a pulp when ordered to but he never seems to do any of the dirty work.”

Yoongi didn’t miss the way in which Jimin dropped the “daddy” when referring to Namjoon and he did his best to not get his hopes up just from that.

“He doesn’t have to do any of the dirty work, that’s what I’m there for. He’s the brains.”

“You could be the brains too. You’re smart, Yoongi.”

“Thanks but I’m fine where I’m at right now.”

“Why’d you join in the first place? Weren’t you a cop before?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, lets the silence hang heavy between them. Jimin makes a tiny noise to get his attention, to show that he’s not dropping his question.

“I’ve had my reasons.”

“I’m sure you did but I wanna know what they were.”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Because it’s funny how you are out there killing members of the clan for being suspicious when you are the most suspicious one.”

Silence again from Yoongi’s side of the line, the older biting his lip and holding back the words. How pathetic would it sound? I joined the mafia because I fell in love with the boss’ plaything. He couldn’t say it, not like this, not now.

“I have to go, Jimin. Be careful with all that bleach.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not enough to kill me.”


Yoonji tripped on the very last step and the three boxes stacked in her arms came crashing down, spilling on the floor hundreds of dossiers and blown-up pictures.

“For fuck’s sake!”

Hoseok laughed at her misfortune and finished tacking the poster to the wall.

“Really? X-Files?”

“I think it’s appropriate since we’ve been banned to the basement.”

“Yeah, yeah, help me pick all of this up, Mulder.”

“Excuse you, I’m obviously the Scully of this duo!”

 The basement of the police department was stuffy and poorly lit and as dusty as a tomb. It was spacious however, enough to fit the giant corkboard and the boxes upon boxes of files that have been gathered on the Kims since the beginning of the clans. Today was the first day of official investigations on the mobsters since the last failed attempt four years ago. Hoseok felt no deja-vu though. Last time the team consisted of twenty or so expert agents, they had an entire floor of the department at their disposal, enough funds and resources and the entire operation was heavily backed-up by the government and even the military. But that was years ago, years that the Kims spent consolidating their power. After the scare they had with Yoongi’s infiltration they grew cautious, spent absurd amounts of money buying government officials, officers, lawyers and even doctors. Nobody believed that the mobsters could be taken down, nobody trusted anybody and worst of all, nobody had the courage to even try anymore.

“Do you know who’s gonna join us?” Hoseok asks after the last of the dossiers gets stuffed back in the box.

“Sup said he can’t just announce our operation to the entire department, he hates to admit it but he doesn’t know who to trust.”

“So how are we supposed to make a team?”

“I stuck a post-it to the coffee machine.” Yoonji says and the other expects her to drop the punchline but it never comes.

“You’re serious.”


“What’d you write on it?”

“Super-Duper team auditions in the basement, today from 9 to 5.”

“You expect us to build a covert operation team out of people that caught the Deadpool reference from a post-it on a coffee machine?”

“You’ve got better ideas, Jung?”

The hours dragged on and they slowly but surely ran out of things to do. They had set up the corkboard, classical pictures linked by red thread style, they organized the evidence both chronologically and by categories and even started scanning and uploading them to their computers. In the end they had everything sorted and ready to go but without any fresh ideas they couldn’t do much else.

Deep down they both resigned themselves to the idea that they were probably going to have to tackle this all by themselves and it seemed daunting. How could they succeed where teams of experts failed before? They couldn’t just count on Yoongi to do all the heavy lifting, he had done plenty so far. They felt useless and morose, a couple of idiots biting far more than they could chew.

The Ikea clock on the wall indicated 4 in the afternoon but under the painful neon lights in the windowless basement time had lost all relevance. It felt like a submarine and it was getting harder and harder to not feel like they were sinking.

“Any plans for this evening?” Yoonji asks, leaning way back in her chair, precariously balanced in its hind legs.

“Just gonna order some pizza and cuddle with Tae …” Hoseok replies not taking his eyes off his immersive game of solitaire.

“Tae, huh? Tae as in …?”


“Ahaaa… So Tae’s got a cock.”

“Tae’s got more things going for him than his cock, you know.”


“Yeah. He’s beautiful, ok? He’s a dancer.”

“He’s a stripper.”

“He’s a stripper at the Sugarglider.”

“Shit, Hobi, that’s messed up.”

“I know. I’m trying to convince him to leave before shit hits the fan.”

“If shit ever hits the fan …” she sighs and Hoseok groans in frustration. “Does he know anything about Kim?”

“Only that he’s a bad person. It’s not like Kim runs around discussing private shit with his workers.”

It’s Yoonji’s turn to groan and Hoseok answers with a sigh. It’s been a constant back and forth for the past hour.

“I miss Yoongi …” she says carefully.

“Don’t. We can’t let ourselves get depressed now.”

“I’ve been depressed for four years now anyway. Dad hasn’t spoken to me since I left for the academy, same goes for all my friends from back home. The only thing that’s kept me going is the knowledge that he is innocent. I didn’t need those files to know that but without them I couldn’t have convinced you.”

“He didn’t look at me when he shot.”

Yoonji straightens herself in her chair, turning towards Hoseok. He never spoke about the incident, never mentioned the failed sting. Even now his eyes were glued to his game on the screen, clicking at it to distract himself.

“We stormed the warehouse where he told us the illegal weapons were kept before getting bought and shipped away. We surveyed the place and just like he said, Kim Namjoon and his men came there to do business. As soon as they went inside we followed but we got ambushed. Took cover where we could, behind crates … We wore bulletproof vests but they expected that so they aimed for our lower abdomens and legs and faces. It was raining bullets, we could hardly get a few shots across, they had us pinned down. I tried to lead the team out … as soon as I left cover I saw Yoongi by the warehouse exit as if he was expecting me to make that decision. I saw him aim and then he turned his head, closed his eyes and fired … I made the wrong call, should have let the bullet hit me in the chest but instead I turned and it hit where I had no armor on my shoulder. Fell to the ground … last thing I saw before passing out was Yoongi dropping his gun and running away.”

Yoonji said nothing after that and Hoseok didn’t look her way.  She didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until a wave of nausea hit her and she had to breathe in deeply  a few times. This happened before when she went to see Hoseok in the hospital, the weight of her brother’s actions a heavy stone on her heart.

“I know he didn’t want to do it … what pained me all these years is that he did do it. I would have died before ever pointing a gun at him.”

“I’m sure he’s very sorry, Hobi …”

“I’m sorry too, you know? I left him there for far too long, long enough to have those bastards corrupt him enough to shoot a brother.”

Hoseok tosses the mouse across the desk, the thing cracking open, its battery flying out. He looks at Yoonji and there is so much remorse in his eyes, so much desperation to make things right again.

“Knock knock?”

The duo suddenly turn towards the door, confused.

“Is this some X-files themed prank or are y’all actually investigating something?”

The woman in their doorway takes off her sunglasses and waits for an answer with a hand on her hip. She looks foreign, dark skinned and full features but the gun holster across her waist proves that she’s in fact an officer.

“Yeah, we are. Who’s asking?”

“Name’s Jessica Oh, I’m with the Firearms control and investigation unit. You’re the two loonies that busted the attorney general, aren’t you?”

“Well that was mostly me …” Yoonji says, raising from her chair.


“I’m Min Yoonji. That mess over there is Jung Hoseok. You saw the note, I assume.”

“Yeah, worked at a comic book store when I was a kid back in Jersey.”

The two shake hands and just as Hoseok rose from his spot to do the same another woman shyly knocks on their door. This one, just like Jessi, had a darker complexion and curvaceous body but there was a sweetness to her smile and a twinkle in her eyes that made Hoseok blush to the tips of his ears.

“’Scuse me, are you the ones that wrote that post-it?”


“Ah perfect! Hyejinie, get down here, I found ‘em!”

“And you are…?”

Hoseok thought his head would combust when he saw yet another gorgeous woman make her way downstairs to their sordid basement office.

“I’m Kim Hyolin from Narcotics and this is Ahn Hyejin, from Human trafficking.”

“I’m Jung Hoseok” he stutters in a hurry, extending his hand.”I … used to be with Organized Crime but now I guess I’m just… head of this operation …”

“He’s also the most embarrassing bi you’ll ever see.” Yoonji mocks him and fails to the dodge Hoseok’s slap across her back.

“What is this operation anyway? It looks terribly shady.” Hyejin comments, looking around the place.

“Can’t argue with that …”

“Shut it, Hobi. We’re legit, it’s all just super secret at the moment. For safety reasons.”

“Word around the department is that you two are on a suicide mission against the Kim clans.”

“Well… yeah.”

“Sounds good.” Hyolin smiles and looks towards Hyejin.”We in, babe?”

“Yeah. I’ve been dying to get in on some real action.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Hoseok interjects. “You can’t just jump in like that! Do you have any idea what this type of mission entails?”

“Do you have any idea how many people lose their lives daily because of drugs? Not just consumption but also being part of production and distribution. We arrest around 10.000 people a year yet not a dent has been made in the illegal drug trade.”

“And since we’re talking numbers we barely catch 50 sex traffickers a year yet the number of people forced into prostitution is way over a million and growing.”

“As for arms trafficking I can’t even give you numbers because they are so good at distribution we hardly ever catch any of the bastards.”

After they said their peace silence fell over the small group. Yoonji and Hoseok seemed to be having a wordless conversation as the three women waited with their arms crossed in the entryway.

“Hauling three more desks down here is going to be a pain.” Hoseok eventually says and invites the new team members inside.


Namjoon pours himself a drink and just stares at it for a few minutes. He shouldn’t be drinking, he needs his head clear but at the same time he desperately needs something to relax him. He thought about just going home, Jimin should be just about finished with making dinner, they could eat together and … And nothing. He doesn’t want to push the younger, not after his last fit, it wouldn’t be fair. He takes a sip of the hard liquor and it goes down like fire. It’s good, he can feel his muscles relaxing just a bit.

The view from the office is pretty, the tall buildings reflecting the sunlight in their endless rows of windows, the bustling streets bellow making the cars seem like toys and the humans like ants. Namjoon gazes in the distance, across the sparkling water of the river, to the other side of town, somewhere between the hills where the expensive neighborhoods were built there was an old mansion that got turned to dust because of the wrath of one man, a wrath that he had triggered in his youthful stupidity.

Yoongi had texted him not long ago to report that 5 of the targets have already been eliminated. He needs to thank his lieutenant , needs to think of a proper reward for making him shed so much blood in one day. He knows how squeamish Yoongi actually is.

So much blood … A waste most likely, there was nothing concrete against those men but he really couldn’t afford the risk. A few deaths to keep an empire safe. Truly, when had he become so ruthless? He always fancied himself a calm person, a rational person. Yet days like this seemed to only prove the opposite. Perhaps he was a monster that simply got very good at playing human. He looks up at the clear sky and wonders if he isn’t an atheist because of convenience rather than reason.

Another sip from his glass and he grabs his phone. After a few moments ruckus hits his ear and a voice straining to speak over the loud bass.


“Taehyung, it’s Kim Namjoon. Can you spare a moment?”

He listens for a bit, the noise gradually fading in the background, the voice coming clearer now.

“Nothing happened, I would have told you if something was up.”

“I tend to worry.”

“Well don’t. He was in a good mood today, came by the club to make sure the clients were happy, keep up appearances after that raid and all …”

“Nobody can fake a smile better than him, Taehyung.”

“I don’t think it was fake. He’s got himself a new toy so …”

“Oh?” Namjoon drank the rest of the liquor in his glass and poured himself another.

“Yeah… This kid, Jungkook. He just rolled in one day demanding to see Master Kim. He’s the one that hunted down Tao just to prove himself.”

“What’s he like?”

“He has a pretty dick and he also is a pretty dick. Young, barely legal, baby faced and honestly demented. In a matter of months he became Master Kim’s right hand man.”


“Oh, there is something perhaps you should know. There’s gonna be a meeting, Master Kim wants to speak to all his main men. It’s gonna go down this Saturday evening at his villa.”

“I see. Perhaps he’s got the right idea, given the current climate. Thank you, Taehyung, I’ll keep in touch.”

“Wait! How’s Jimin?”

“Safe and sound as always. I have my most trusted man looking after him when I can’t.”

“Right … Just… He needs affection too, you know? He always has.”

“Don’t worry about that, Taehyung, Jimin is more than loved.”

That was something Namjoon couldn’t say about himself though and that bitter thought made him finish his third glass as well, the burn unable to dull the sting of it all.


Hoseok felt just the slightest bit odd being the only man on the team. The girls quickly bonded, the invisible thread of sisterhood between women working in male dominated fields keeping them tight together. He hasn’t seen Yoonji smile so widely and brightly since they were kids. She sat atop her desk because she was secretly embarrassed by the height difference between herself and the other three and talked with confidence. The girls found her adorable and they were completely whipped for their youngest.

They soon found out that Jessi mostly worked abroad, following whatever clues she could find, hunting down some of the most dangerous smugglers on the continent. She thinks that she might have discovered Kim Namjoon’s supplier and she was dumping as much information as she could while Hyolin was typing what she was saying at a freakish speed.

Hoseok was excited but also worried. Yes, these ladies were highly skilled and eager but was this a good idea? A direct attack on both of the clans from all sides? Could they even pull it off?

“Excuse me?”

The chatter in the basement died down in an instant upon the new arrival, a tall man wearing huge round rimmed glasses and looking like the most unremarkable math teacher in the world.

“I’m looking for Jung Hoseok and his team. The Superintendent told me I could find them down here …”

“Unless there’s another bunch of weirdos hiding in the department’s basement, you’ve found us.”

The man looks unimpressed and Hoseok wonders what exactly is his business and why is he wearing clothes at least twice his size?

“My name’s Kim Kibum, I’m a criminal psychologist. I’ve been sent to help you profile the Kims.”

“Um… thanks, I guess, but I think we’ve got this covered. They’re a pair of psychos and they’ve gotta be brought to justice. I have no interest in why they are the way they are or why they do what they do. You can write a book on it after we make sure they get at least 3 consecutive life sentences.”

“With all due respect, mister Jung, you’re terribly wrong. The Kims are no simple psychos and it’s only the why behind their actions that can bring their downfall.”

“They do it out of insanity.” Hoseok scoffs.

“No, officer, they do it out of love.”


Chapter Text

The Kim crime family has been established well over 40 years ago. It began as a Seoul based gang but in a matter of years came to rival the then ruling Kwon family. The head of the Kim clan was a man named Kim Kangmin, a man that was known for having participated in the Gwangju Uprising and coming from a very good background. Initially it had been said that he had turned to crime as a reaction against societal constrictions which he viewed as unfair and limiting. He began like most gangsters do with drug trade but quickly branched out to gun running, sex trafficking and racketeering. He maintained exemplary control over his men and was very generous to those that were loyal to him. People came to work for the Kim clan because they were paid very well and offered protection. Back then many people lauded Kim Kangmin for being kinder to the underprivileged than the government was.


“Ladies, gentlemen, please, come in, have a seat. We’ll begin shortly.”

The Sugarglider’s basement was mostly used for storage, the stacks of crates filled with alcohol serving as proof of that but the concrete floor with a few drainage holes installed suggested alternative uses as well. By now Kim Seokjin’s lieutenants knew that the head mobster never calls for meetings unless something had gone incredibly wrong. The twenty something sharply dressed people hesitate before picking a chair to sit on from the ones arranged in a semicircle in the middle of the room.  Their boss kept on smiling at them and saying hello and encouraging them to hurry up, promising this won’t take long. As always Seokjin was an impeccable host.


Kim Kangmin married a singer and former actress five years into his career as one of the rising Asian crime lords. From what little we know Kim was deeply in love with her, obsessed even and she was entirely devoted to him. They had only one child, a boy they named Seokjin.


Once everyone was seated Seokjin looked towards Jungkook and smiled at him sweetly.

“You all know Jungkook here, I assume.” He says without taking his eyes off the younger. “I gave him the name Kim not too long ago and I learned that despite my pessimism there still are loyal people out there.”  The smile drops as soon as he turns towards his audience. “However, people like him are still few and far in between.”

Jungkook turns then as if on cue and grabs a bunch of things from a small table placed nearby, the sound of clanking metal echoing in the room.

“He will cuff your hands behind your back for the duration of this meeting. I expect your full cooperation and I apologize for any discomfort.”

Those gathered stiffened visibly but not one dared to say a word of protest. They glared at the young man that was smirking, self-satisfied, as he carefully took his time cuffing each person, making sure that the restraints were on tight, biting into their skin. As Jungkook was restraining the final few lieutenants the distinct sound of high heels clicking down the stairs could be heard and soon enough Taehyung made his appearance. It was obvious that he had just finished dancing, his entire scantily laced covered body was shining with glitter and sweat, albeit less dramatically in the dull light of the basement. He looked at Seokjin and quietly greeted him, unsure of where to stay or why he was even summoned. Jungkook secures the last pair of cuffs and took his place by Seokjin’s side.

“Excellent.” The man begins. “This is Taehyung, most of you here know him by his stage name, V. I’ve also given him my name too. Actually, they are the only ones  I’ve granted this name to. Because they are the only ones whose loyalty I don’t question. Whereas the rest of you … well that’s what this meeting is all about.”

Seokjin gestures towards Taehyung and the dancer is quick to comply, moving easily even on his dizzyingly high heels. With a few gestures the mobster has him kneeling by his feet.

Taehyung feels everybody’s eyes on him, especially the heavy gazes from Jungkook and Hyojong. He knows that he was probably summoned to prove a point and will most likely be forced to do something unsavory. But Seokjin had praised him for his loyalty, has made it a known fact that he was an important member of the clan for no reason other than his crazed devotion. He was not about to disappoint his master now, especially not in front of all his people, that would translate to a certain and painful death. So he steels his face into an expression of bored detachment and reaches down deep inside himself to that place of fuzzy numbness and just lets things happen. This was the only way he knew how to survive.


The woman flinches in her seat, her legs instinctively crossing at the knees.

“You are a wordly woman. Tell me, what do you think of Taehyung?”

“He’s…” the woman starts but is unsure.”He’s very pretty.”

“Yes, he is. It’s why his services cost an arm and a leg!” he laughs but only Jungkook politely chuckles along. “Go ahead, Tae, show her how skilled you are.”

Taehyung looks up at Seokjin for a moment and believes he understands what is asked of him. He crawls towards the woman, his ass swaying enticingly with each languid move. Seohee doesn’t know how to react, what to do, she freezes up once Taehyung reaches her and simply parts her legs with his hands, grip firm but not unkind. He looks her in the eyes and there is a warning there so she lets him have his way, lets him push her short skirt up and drag her panties down. She merely whimpers in half horror as the dancer wastes no time and begins licking her pussy with skilled precision and a sort of cold, clinical detachment. She closes her eyes in shame, knowing that everybody is watching with morbid interest.  

“Well, how is it, Seohee? Pretty good I imagine, worth the price.”

“Yes, Master Kim …” she begins crying, her face contorting with humiliation.

“What about Jungkook, hm? Isn’t he just as beautiful?”


“Jungkook. Pay attention, Seohee, this is a meeting after all.”

“Yes, Master Kim, they’re both beautiful.”

Jungkook grins and laughs a little at the praise then dallies over to the woman, stepping over Taehyung that keeps his face resolutely buried in the woman’s core, to get behind her chair and lift her shirt up alongside her bra, tits bouncing from their confines. She yelps and buckles against the cuffs, unable to cover herself.

“I’ve heard a lot about you, miss Seohee.” Jungkook says sweetly and begins fondling her breasts, a small blush crossing his cheeks. “I’ve heard that you provide most of the workers for the brothels. I bet that’s a very interesting job. Who did you work with?”

“Hu…Huncheol…” she barely manages between sobs.

“Huncheol …” Jungkook repeats and pinches her nipples painfully, paying no mind to the woman’s scream. “Master Kim wasn’t pleased with him, I remember he had him replaced.”

“Yes, I had Hui here take his position.” Seokjin intervenes, smiling and nodding at Hui, a few chairs to his right. “I’ve gotten your first report, by the way. Excellent job, I knew I made the right decision when naming you. Do you know what his report stated, Seohee?”

“No…Master … Kim...”

“Well he noticed a few things were off in regards to some of our younger workers. He noticed that they were far younger than what you told us on paper when you first brought them to us.”

The woman’s sobs stop as her whole body tenses, Taehyung having to part her legs forcibly before diving back in to his task, adding two fingers this time, making her buck up into his touch involuntarily.

“You have really nice tits, miss Seohee.” Jungkook comments, pawing at them roughly. “Are they real?”

“You’re very observant, Jungkook.” Seokjin praises him.”They’re fake, aren’t they Seohee? You got yourself a boobjob with the last paycheck from Huncheol. Problem is I don’t put kids into prostitution. Huncheol thought that my rules were neglectable and that simply isn’t true. So the money he paid you was as good as stolen. You basically stole from me, Seohee.”

“No…No, Master Kim …”

Taehyung had enough of this frigid woman already, his jaw was aching and his fingers were cramping and he understands that yeah, her life is being threatened by Kim Seokjin but so was his and he would very much like to not die this evening so with new found determination he begins sucking on the woman’s swollen clit and curving his tired fingers deeply into her. She yelps and eventually moans, her mind tearing itself apart between the surge of pleasure and the dire nature of her situation. She’s about to cum when she feels something cold pressing under her breasts where Jungkook’s hands are.

“When you steal something you have to give it back, miss Seohee.” he says and right before reaching her peak Jungkook slices into the flesh, almost perfectly over her surgery scar. The woman lets out an inhuman scream and the people seated around buck up in horror so violently the chairs screech on the concrete floor.

Blood sprays out and Taehyung gets covered in it, his hair, his shoulders, dripping down towards his navel, he scurries away from the mess, rubbing at his cheeks to clean the red droplets. He watches Jungkook dig into the woman, pulling out the bloodied silicone implants and tossing them on the floor. Seohee is thankfully unconscious now and she’ll silently die from the blood loss in a matter of minutes. Taehyung fights down the nausea creeping up from his guts.


Just because his acolytes called him fair, doesn’t mean that Kim Kangmin was not a violent man. He loved drinking and partying and would often throw extravagant feasts that would usually end with bloodshed. He liked luring people into a sense of comfort, get them talking and confessing and when he uncovered something he didn’t approve of he would rid the clan of that person, often making an example out of them.  For a gangster he had some principles and a few scruples, he didn’t condone drug use amongst his men, he did not tolerate murder unless he was the one doing the killing, he would strike down any person that harmed children or animals. In his twisted mind he regarded himself as a good man, a misunderstood hero. He began teaching the ways of the clan to Seokjin as soon as the boy was capable of walking and using the potty on his own. Kim Seokjin grew up surrounded by violence, more so he grew up accustomed to justified violence.


“I should have warned you, I believe this meeting could get quite messy.” Seokjin vaguely apologizes as he watches Jungkook wipe off his blade on his white shirt. He had to talk to the boy about taking better care of his clothes later. “Tae, do you think she orgasmed?”

“I think she was about to, Master Kim. I’m sorry about disappointing you.”

“That’s alright, doll. Women were never really your specialty. Why don’t you try demonstrating your skills on Changmo here?”

The man in question looked up with huge eyes, terror already running cold through his veins. He didn’t move, didn’t even look down as Taehyung crawled towards him and unzipped his fly. He wanted to say something but he was too afraid of being out of line so he was left gaping like a fish and trembling.

Taehyung was annoyed, no matter how much he licked, sucked and pumped the bastard’s dick wasn’t even getting a half chub. He wished he could just tell him to relax, he was as good as dead anyway, might as well cum one last time. Instead he huffed and settled better on his knees, cockwarming and waiting for Seokjin to do his thing.

“Not into pretty boys, Changmo?”

“No... Master Kim …”

“What are you into then? Other than cutting the cocaine we sell with benzocaine so that you can profit off the clan’s back?”

Taehyung could hear Jungkook’s approaching steps, could even see the cold glare of his blade but since Seokjin seemed to have held this meeting in order to make a point about loyalty, he decided to be proactive and maybe earn some good boy points. Before the younger could shove the knife inside Changmo. Taehyung bites down hard, feeling the delicate flesh of his glands give and tear like rubber around his teeth. Blood floods his mouth and it’s disgusting, it even gets inside his nose as his breathing accelerates and the man’s howls ring in his ears like a blaring alarm. He pulls violently, ripping the man’s cock from his body and spits the flesh on the floor, heaving.

Once more the room erupts with terrified gasps and a few sobs. Taehyung desperately tries to wipe the blood off his face with his hands. He regrets his action, watches Jungkook plunge his knife into the screaming man’s throat and silencing him for good and he can tell the younger only did so to calm himself, angry that Taehyung had robbed him of his moment, of his little show of devotion towards Seokjin.

“Now, now, darlings, there’s no need to turn this into a competition.”

Seokjin takes a few steps and drops his flowery handkerchief by Taehyung, the boy grateful for it and hesitant to dirty it with blood but he hates the sticky feeling on his face too much. Jungkook leers at him from above.

“Play nice you two, we still have to finish this meeting.”

Seokjin takes a few more steps and stops between the chairs where Hui and Hyojong had sat themselves side by side. He smiles indulgently and Hui in his innocence smiles back, thinking that he’s safe because the boss said that he was pleased with him. His smile however dies on his lips as he watches Seokjin bend and capture Hyojong’s lips into a searing kiss. His lover doesn’t pull away, just closes his eyes in bliss as he’s seen him do under him as well.

“Hyojongie … how are you?” Seokjin asks against the other’s lips.

“I’m fine, Master Kim. A bit grossed out …”

“What do you think of Taehyung?”

Hyojomg doesn’t respond but his brows furrow in anger and that’s all Seokjin needs. He pulls away and faces the gathering once more.

“In case some of you didn’t catch on, this evening is all about loyalty, to me, to the clan. Some of you know that my father never tolerated any transgressions and I always try to follow his example. Now, my father was a monster, of course, and I am no such thing. I believe that some of you deserve second chances. Like miss Ku, here, that has been laundering money from her side hustle through my businesses and thinks that I’m not aware of that.”

“Master Ki…”

“Don’t interrupt me, that’s very rude. I’ve ceased all of that money and you won’t get paid in the upcoming months. If you manage to behave I will consider that enough punishment.”

“Thank you, Master Kim! You’re too kind!”

“I know I am. That’s why Junhee over here also gets a cut from his pay for throwing private parties in my establishments that he’s supposed to be managing. Do that again and I will have you beaten to a pulp by Jungkookie.”

“Thank you, Master Kim! It won’t happen again!”

“I’m sure it won’t.  See, Hyojongie, I can be merciful. All I require is a bit of honesty. So I’ll ask you again, what do you think about Taehyung?”

The two make eye contact. It’s been months since Taehyung has last seen him, they used to work side by side but rarely spoke, Taehyung had always found the blond to be a little creepy and very full of himself so they didn’t exactly get along. The other dancers liked to call it rivalry and loved watching them compete for Seokjin’s attention. Everybody thought that Hyojong got lucky when he was plucked from the Sugarglider and made producer in the drug branch of the clan. But Taehyung knew that’s not what Hyojong wanted.

“I hate him. I don’t think he’s loyal to you, I think it’s all an act.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because … he doesn’t love you.”

“Oh? He doesn’t love me or he doesn’t love me like you do?”

At that Hui turns his head towards his lover in shock and hopes to see in his eyes something, anything that would indicate that Master Kim is just messing with them, that it’s all just part of one of his elaborate speeches. But Hyojong doesn’t look his way, he keeps his eyes stuck to the ground as he mumbles his yes.

“From what I can see, Hui doesn’t seem to have any idea what’s going on. Am I right, Hui? Are you confused ?”

“Ye…Yes, Master Kim.”

“Aw, you poor thing! I did tell Hyuna that she was better off with you than with him, honestly you both would be. You see Hyojong has a little obsession with me. Not that I blame him but it is troublesome at times. Now this meeting has dragged on for far too long so let’s make this quick. Hyojong, me or your lovers? Decide now and once and for all.”

Jungkook once more cleans his blade on his now blood soiled shirt and is ready to cut into someone. Taehyung spares him a glance as if to say “weirdo” but otherwise remains passively kneeling on the floor, watching the scene unfold.

“You…Master Kim. I choose you.”

Seokjin grins and pats Hyojong on the head, the blond still not lifting his gaze from the floor, not wanting to face Hui.

“Well, glad that’s finally settled. So, thank you all for coming this evening, I hope that the message was received by you all well and clear. Himchan, I’ll see you on Monday, as we talked before. Thank you all, enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

Jungkook moves to uncuff the surviving liutenants who all quickly bow as deeply as they can before almost running out of the basement that reeked of death. Hyojong seems frozen even after he gets freed but as soon as Hui touches him the blond bolts towards the exit, leaving his lover to bow before Seokjin alone before dragging himself to the bar upstairs to get unbelievably drunk. In a matter of minutes Seokjin is left alone with Jungkook and Taehyung and two eviscerated corpses.


Kim Kangmin had very high expectations of his son, he had high expectations in general but when it came to his heir he was obsessed with making him perfect. He hired private tutors, schooled him in any and all fields, Seokjin got the very best education possible. At the same time Kim also taught him the ins and outs of crime, taught him how to shoot, how to fight, how to kill. Seokjin’s reality had quite literally been shaped by his father. He was never seen by the public, he kept his son mostly locked up in the family mansion and promised him that when he was ready to retire he would inherit everything and take full command of the clan as the rightful successor.


Neither Jungkook nor Taehyung questioned Seokjin when he led them up the stairs, back into the dark neon bass filled belly of the club while they were very much still covered in blood. They said nothing as the head mobster casually ordered them some drinks at the bar and watched them knock the alcohol back with a satisfied grin. They were both still silent when they entered Taehyung’s small, messy dressing room and the lock clicked behind.

“Are you two ok? You’re awfully silent. Did something happen?” Seokjin questions them while propping himself against the vanity. He only received some mumbled nos as an answer and he sighed deeply, like a parent that was being tested. “What is your beef with each other anyway?”

Taehyung and Jungkook exchanged a few unsure glances. The animosity was there, of course. Taehyung thought that Jungkook was a sadistic, selfish asshole that avoids hardships by kissing ass and Jungkook thought that Taehyung was a mere whore that shouldn’t be so full of himself when his only talents were dick sucking and pole dancing. Maybe some jealousy was involved in their disdain for each other, Seokjin certainly believed so and had all intentions of fixing that.

“I can’t have that, not between you two.” He explained. “Whatever it is, it has got to stop so shake hands, right now.”

The youngsters frowned at the command but were quick enough to comply, their hands meeting in a death grip that had them both rubbing their fingers soothingly after. Seokjin was displeased with the childish behavior.

“Now kiss.” The two flinched and turned to him. “You heard me. Kiss and make up.”

Jungkook wanted to get this over and done with already so he leaned in fast, almost head butting the other before pecking his lips for less than a second.

“You’re being awfully difficult, both of you. Kiss properly.”

Taehyung figured that he should take the lead since the kid was obviously inexperienced and too stubborn to even try. He stepped closer, placed a hand on Jungkook’s hip and the younger almost pulled away but Taehyung cuped his jaw with his other hand and brought their lips together in a tender touch. They both closed their eyes at the contact, not wanting to acknowledge fully what they were being made to do. When he heard Seokjin annoyingly clear his throat, Taehyung deepened the kiss, pressing closer, harder and poking his tongue out to gain access. He pinched Jungkook’s hip and the boy relented, letting Taehying lick inside his mouth with fervor. The taste of blood on their tongues was disgusting, the knowledge that it wasn’t even their own making them shiver with nausea. After a few minutes of this they stopped right before they almost started retching.

“Well that was a nice show but it doesn’t mean it was honest.” Seokjin commented.

“Master Kim …” Jungkook began, almost shy. “I don’t like Taehyung like that …”

Seokjin cooed at him and cupped his face with both hands, bringing his face so that their eyes could meet.

“Do you love me, Jungkook?”

“Yes, Master Kim, you know I do!”

“Taehyungie, what about you?”

“My life belongs to you, Master Kim.” He answered dutifully.

“You both love me so there is no reason for you two to not love each other as well. But I guess you haven’t had the time to build trust. I think I know what could bring you closer together.  Tae doll, get on the bed, remove your … clothes and present.”

“Yes, Master.”

Taehyung knew that voice and could guess vaguely what was about to happen. He didn’t like the idea of Jungkook seeing him submit like that to Seokjin but the darker side of him gleed at the thought of pleasing his master. He stripped quickly, tossed his heels carelessly and hoped on the bed, face down, ass up. Jungkook scoffed at the humiliating display of weakness.

“See, Jungkookie, Tae is a good boy. He never disobeys, just like you. Take your belt off.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide upon hearing that. He wasn’t gonna let Jungkook… was he?

“I want you to test for yourself Taehyung’s loyalty. Go ahead.”

“Master … I don’t …”

“Hush, doll. I don’t want to hear anything from you unless Jungkook tells you to say it.”

The youngest was taken aback by the instruction but he wasn’t unhappy. He’d rather be in any other position than the one Taehyung was in so he gladly brought the ends of the belt together and moved to stand behind the other’s exposed bottom. He was supposed to hit him, he figured, so he did just that, smacking the right buttock hard, leaving an angry red stripe on it. Taehyung yelped shortly but said nothing. Jungkook hit again and again and began to love the rush of adrenaline that came with the power and control he was given. He laughed at one point when he noticed the dancer getting hard, cock hanging heavy between his slender legs.

“What’s getting you so worked up? Do you love pain, Taehyung?” he asked, mockingly.

“I love … being good for Master.”

 “What about me? Don’t you love being good for me too?”

“You’re… mean and … I only serve Master Kim.”

Jungkook felt angry at that and let the blows fall one after another. Taehyung began crying hysterically, he hated being played with by someone other than Seokjin. He hardly even registered the pain anymore, all he could focus on was the resent towards the younger.

“Master Kim said you’re supposed to love me too!” Jungkook shouted and  brought the belt to Taehyung’s delicate thighs, almost making him topple over in pain.

“I won’t love you! I won’t!”

“Master Kim!”

Seokjin was sat on the stool by the vanity, watching the scene unfold with interest. His dress pants had an obvious bulge and the older had to unbutton his shirt half way, he was feeling hot all over, eyes glazed with lust.

“I told you Taehyung was loyal to me, Kookie.”

“Then why won’t he listen to you?!”

“It’s not like you have either. I told you to love each other. You have to give what you are asking for.”

Jungkook pouted and tossed the belt to the floor. He discarded his shirt next and then his shoes, leaving only his slacks on before turning Taehyung on his back and clumsily wiping his tears.

“Tae… we gotta listen to Master Kim.”

“I know … I know …”

Taehyung began sobbing in distress. He was falling hard into subspace and couldn’t stand the thought of disobeying yet he had no idea what to do and Jungkook was not offering any help either. The youngest kept wiping his cheeks and shushing him, obviously distressed himself. Soon enough both boys were crying in fear and frustration and instinctively pulled each other close for comfort. Seokjin smiled a little when he saw the two hugging desperately on the bed, trying to breathe with their faces buried in each other’s necks.

“Nobody loves us other than Master Kim …” Jungkook whispered to Taehyung. “We’ve got nobody but him but … he’s giving us each other too.” Taehyung only whimpered at that, he didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to acknowledge how lonely he feels, how lonely he’s felt his entire life. He had people he loved but nobody that loved him back, nobody that wanted him for what he really was, nobody that accepted him fully.”Do you hate me, Tae?”

“No …”

“I don’t hate you either …”

Jungkook pulled away from the other’s tight embrace and awkwardly crashed their mouths together in a very hungry and sloppy kiss, more teeth than tongue, a desperate request.

“Jungkookie… “ Taehyung eventually cried out.  “I’m a horrible person …”

“Me too …”

 They kiss again, Jungkook almost crushing Taehyung under his weight, making him wriggle in discomfort, the bed biting into the raw, red skin of his ass and thighs. They both stop and pull apart when they feel the mattress dip under new weight, Seokjin having seated himself by them. He reached out with both hands, wiping the tears off the boys’ flushed cheeks.

“I don’t like seeing my babies cry … Not because of this, not because they think so lowly of themselves. “

Taehyung has never seen Seokjin speaks so softly or look so fondly at him, he could feel a knot in his throat from the sobs he wanted to let out.

“You’ve done things because they needed to be done. You obeyed orders because you are faithful. You endure my punishments because you knew I only wanted to make you stronger. You are both beautiful and powerful and I am privileged to call you mine.”

“Master …”

“My name is Seokjin.”

They paused and just looked at the man for a few moments. They were so used to him being menacing and always in control, always put together, impeccable façade, undented armor. Yet now his eyes shone with something aching to genuine care, his touch soft, his voice sweet and airy. It was like peaking behind the curtain, staring at a clock’s inner mechanism.

Jungkook hugged him first, burring his face in the strong column of his neck. Taehyung hesitated, never having touched him this way before but carefully doing the same after an encouraging, tender smile. Seokjin hugged them closely, kissed the top of their heads and then their cheeks and in turns their lips, once, twice, three times …

“Now, let’s try one last time. Kiss and make up.”

This time the youngers didn’t protest, they kissed easily, lips gliding against each other, fingers interlocked. Seokjin giggled, finally happy with the result.

Taehyung held jungkook’s hand and carefully brought it to Seokjin’s clothed hardon. The two seemed to converse silently, looking at each other with mischief in their eyes.

“Seokjin hyung …” Jungkook dared, looking at the elder with big, Bambi eyes. “We wanna be good for you … wanna show you how good we can be.”

“Go ahead then.” He encouraged while shifting to sit more comfortably.

Taehyung was the one to undo the belt and Jungkook the zipper. Taehyung pulled on the dress pants and boxers and Jungkook pulled out the achingly hard member. Then they both settled on their knees on the bed, laving the hard on with their saliva, exchanging sloppy kisses over the shaft. Taehyung eventually deep throated Seokjin, making the man moan, satisfied while jungkook dove lower, licking at the man’s balls. They switched places a few times but Jungkook was very much inexperienced and gagged and coughed a lot, making Taehyung coo at him and cover his face in sloppy kisses. Eventually Seokjin took himself in hand and stroked hard and fast while his two boys waited with their mouths open, tongues out and humping the bed like two puppies in heat. He came all over their faces and tongues and they were quick to help each other clean up, licking at the cum covering them and eventually cumming themselves as well, Taehyung on the sheets and Jungkook in his pants.

“We love you, Seokjin hyung …” they said in a daze.


Bang Sihyuk joined the clan a year after Kim Kangmin got married. They’ve known each other in college and Kim was happy to have his former best friend join in on the business. By the time Seokjin was born Bang became the second in command. He was in charge of logistics and management, Bang had always been considered sort of a genius, unfortunately he decided to use his brains for crime. Why exactly he had joined is unknown although speculation has it that he was in love with Kim’s wife and was willing to do anything just to be around her. However his love seems to have been unrequited and after a few years Bang married as well. The woman he had married already had a son from a previous marriage which Bang, as a gesture of fealty, offered as tribute to Kim. Impressed by his friend’s devotion Kangmin gave the last name Kim to the boy and became his godfather. He kept the name even after the original Kim clan fell apart that’s why today we have what is known as the upper Kim clan, belonging to Seokjin and the lower Kim clan, run by Namjoon, Bang’s adoptive son.


The Monster Plaza that evening was unrecognizable. Not even on Halloween had the decorations been so over the top, the place looked completely different. The plants were replaced by avant-garde light installations, the ornate furniture exchanged for something more sleek and modern looking, the walls covered in black velvet that draped heavily and luxuriously, even the infamous 5 meter tall painting of the dark beast that gave the club its name had been covered by some minimalist abstract painting that fitted better with the theme.

The place was crowded, filled to the brim with very important guests. Every lieutenant and their right hand, every business person and politician and representative of the law that had ever shaken hands with the lower Kim clan was present. Namjoon called them all to celebrate some bogus anniversary that nobody actually cared about as long as there were beautiful girls and boys for hire, high stakes gambling to be played and a never ending flow of alcohol and drugs. The party was so over the top it looked like it was a scene from a gangster movie.

Jimin had secluded himself on one of the overlooking balconies, staring at the crowd below while sipping sparkling water from a champagne glass. He watched the flashes go off every few minutes, about ten professional photographers had been hired for the event and they were dutifully doing their job. Jimin frowns, deep in thought.

He had dressed up from head to toes in Swarovkies, his dress, his shoes, his head piece, even his shawl. It was overkill but his daddy had told him to be dazzling so he took it quite literally. Every now and again a person would look up towards him, their eyes drawn to the shimmering sparkles that would explode every time he moved and caught light.


Jimin knew that low voice, that sarcastic lilt.

“Did he tell you to come look for me?”

“I volunteered before he had to. What are you doing up here, the party’s down there.”

“This isn’t a party, Yoongi.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Yoongi is dashing in a three piece suit but Jimin doesn’t comment on it, just blushes and sips on his water.

Namjoon is in the crowd, talking animatedly with a group of old people Jimin recognizes as judges.

“Can I have your phone for a sec?” Jimin asks and Yoongi shrugs and hands it to him, curiously. He watches the blond take a few pictures of Namjoon and hands it back.

“Um… I see him everyday, don’t really need pics of him, it’s not like I’ll miss him …”

“Were you a good cop, Yoongi?”

“Excuse me?”

“I thought it would be obvious what exactly is going on here.”

“What do you mean?”

Jimin sighs, exasperated and steps away from the edge of the balcony.

“Everybody that’s ever done business or is currently doing business with Namjoon is here and there are photographers! This is not a party, Yoongi, this is entrapment. He’s collecting blackmail material against everybody in the clan, this is guarantee that they won’t go to the police.”

Yoongi frowns, suddenly realizing the implications. How could he have been so stupid? Of course that’s why Namjoon insisted that he made sure everybody on the list of guests would come.

“Is that why you are hiding here?”

“Yeah. And talking to the obvious cop.”

“I’m not a cop anymore, Jimin. I haven’t been for four years. I’m loyal to the clan.”

“If you’re so loyal then delete those pictures of Namjoon.”

Yoongi froze. Was Jimin testing him? Was he testing him out of his own curiosity or did Namjoon put him up to it? Either way he felt angry, he felt betrayed. He pulled out his phone and deleted all the photos, holding the screen so that Jimin could see clearly.

“I thought you knew me better by now, Jimin.”

“Yeah… I thought you were smarter.”

Yoongi scoffed, he had enough and leaves without even saying goodbye. Jimin sighs deeply, exhausted. He finishes his water and reaches into his clutch, pulling out his secret phone and snapping a new set of pictures of Namjoon. He looks at the time, half past nine, half an hour until his curfew. that was fine, he could stay hidden until then, after all, he was the best at being invisible.


The Kim clan started falling apart after Kim had Bang executed for what he said was personal betrayal. Apparently he either attempted to force himself on Kim’s wife or the two had a consensual affair. Either way Kim was enraged and had the Bangs executed. Namjoon, in order to get revenge, murdered Kim’s wife and attempted to kill Kim himself but Seokjin had prevented that from happening which came as a surprise since the entire crime world knew that Namjoon and Seokjin had been lovers since their early adolescence. The clan split apart and ever since the two former lovers have been at each other’s necks, trying to take each other’s empire down.


Hoseok finishes his brief history of the case with a heavy sighs and reaches for the glass of water on his desk. His freshly formed team was looking sleepy and bored, it was Saturday evening and nobody felt like doing any more work.

“Great story, it’s got drama and betrayal and love and everything.” Hyolin comments.

“They should turn it into a k-drama.” Hyejin adds.

“Can we sign the damn form already?!” Yoonji asks.

Hoseok hands them the papers and they bump each other eager to get this over with. They spent all day going through protocols, writing declarations and waivers, going through health checks, which had been particularly grueling for Hoseok, and now finally the briefing on the case so far.

Hoseok watched Kibum sign last after he had patiently waited for the girls to have their turns. His signature is neat and he used a fountainpen. Like some asshole. The Sup insisted that his expertise was needed although Hoseok could simply not stomach the guy.

“Alright, who’s up for drinks?” Jessi offers and all the girls hands go up.

“Hobi, c’mon, you’re the head of this operation and this is basically team building.”

“I’m beat, sorry … Besides, I shouldn’t be anywhere near bars.”

Yoonji gasped in realization and quickly apologized. Soon enough the girls had gathered their things and were out the door, hollering like a bunch of teens on prom night. Hoseok smiled, happy to know that Yoonji had found friends.  He stacked the papers in order and stuck a post-it on top of them to remind himself to get them to the Sup early on Monday.

“Don’t you have a home to go to, doctor Kim?”

“I’m a doctor in psychology, there’s no need for that formality. You can just call me Kibum.”

“I don’t wanna call you at all.”

“You don’t like me very much.”

“Did you get your doctorate with these types of witty observations too?”

“It’s easier to fight against something we demonized and dubbed inhuman rather than admit that criminals like the Kims are human too. You dislike me because I humanize them.”

“I dislike you because you’re useless to the team.”

“When you read the briefing ... you said that the Kims have been at each other’s necks for years yet neither of them ever directly attempted to kill the other. They just try to destroy the other’s empire.”

“Yeah so?”

“Ever wondered why that is? Surely assassins wouldn’t be difficult to come by, especially for men like them.”

“Is this part of your  “the Kims do crime because of love” theory?”

“Each man kills the thing he loves.”

“The coward does it with a kiss, the brave man with a sword.”

Kibum’s face lights up and he smiles.

“Don’t make that face, I read.” Hoseok scoffs in disdain,” What are you trying to say?”

“The Kims are cowards when it comes to each other. They won’t actively act against the other but they would react against an outside threat.”

“So you’re saying … By Oscar Wilde logic, we should keep poking at Seokjin if we want to get to Namjoon.”

“Oscar Wilde logic never failed me before.”

Hoseok laughs. The clock shows half past nine …

“Get comfortable, then, Kibum hyung, we’ve got a long ass night ahead of us.”

Chapter Text

It dragged on, that Saturday night, almost bizarrely so. The air was heated with the now fully settled summer, people were out, looking for a good time and the hours seemed to just lazily pass, minute after long minute, as if time turned to molasses.

Yoonji had told the girls that she knew a bar where they could go and the gang was quick to follow her lead. Truthfully she had been visiting the place once or twice a week for the past months, hoping to cross paths with the bunny boy. She had his number, which she had sorta forcibly got off of him, but drunk Yoonji was unlike sober Yoonji. With a clear head she was too embarrassed to text, her conscience screaming at her that this was a barely legal boy after all. It wasn’t an easy decision, holding back, not after seeing Hoseok get into a relationship. She felt like time was passing her by, like she was wasting her youth chasing gangsters and her poor brother and completely neglecting her own needs. Hoseok had gotten his shit together, why couldn’t she? She wanted to be a better person and that meant not bootycalling a teenager. That meant having a few drinks with her coworkers and going home and having a big, healthy breakfast the next day and perhaps answer the Sup’s text messages … He was an adult, after all, a responsible grown man.

Three shots of fireball and a Long Island later however she started spilling her guts to her new found friends …

“I’m a mess … I don’t… I don’t know how y’all do it y’kno … like, how do you balance shit?”

“That’s the thickest Deagu accent I’ve ever heard.” Jessi laughs and pats her on the back.

“M’serious … Like you two, how long’ve you been datin’?”

“Since the Academy.” Hyolin answers and places a kiss on Hyejin’s nose. It was sickeningly sweet.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m single.”

“Yeah but you’ve got boobs …”

“Fuck has that got to do with anything?”

“When my bro comes back he’ll think I’m a loser …”

“Look, I don’t know anything about him other than the fact that he’s been risking his life for four years to take the Kims down, but I doubt a man like him would say that about his sister.” Hyolin assures her.

“Especially his sister that has been working non-stop to help him accomplish his mission.” Hyejin adds.

Yoonji smiles a lot but places her head on the table. She was still worried, still felt inadequate, especially in front of these women who she was supposed to lead. But she needed to vent, needed reassurance and it wasn’t fair to always go to Hoseok or it, the man had enough on his plate anyway.


Yoonji bolted when she heard that voice.

Jungkook has had quite the evening that started with setting up a basement as a murder chamber and ended with a threesome. Seokjin had left the club and left him and Taehyung to clean themselves up and bond some more. Of course when they came through as they were wiping blood off their torsos with vanilla scented wet wipes a sense of dread fell over them. What have they done? Jungkook came to terms a while back with the fact that he was a murderer, a no good son of bitch whose place could be nowhere else other than the Mafia but he had yet to grasp his feelings towards Seokjin or towards men in general. He willingly sucked dick, he even enjoyed it a little. Was it the adrenaline, did he disassociate, was he truly bi or gay or … Taehyung mixed some powder into a tall glass of water and knocked it back like medicine. Jungkook asked what that was and when the other in the flattest of tones said that it was meth he only wanted to know if it helps you forget about things. With the promise that yes, it does help, Jungkook had also gulped down a glass worth of the stuff. Now he was high and looking for alcohol so that he could hopefully blackout.

“You never texted me …”

Yoonji splutters and tries to come up with some sort of reply.

“Who’s this, Yoonji?” one of the girls asks.

“He’s … um…”

“Jungkook.” the boy provides.

“You look awfully familiar …” Hyejin comments, eyeing the boy carefully.

“I don’t think we’ve ever met. I would have remembered such a beautiful woman.” Jungkook says, his voice teasing, dripping honey.

“Kid’s got game.” Jessi laughs and raises an eyebrow towards Yoonji.

“Yeah, he’s very …”

“Are you ok, noona? You look like you had a lot of fun.”

“Shouldn’t you be home at this hour?!” she eventually erupts. The boy just laughs.

“I was on my way. C’mon, let me take you home first. “

“Wha? No way …”

“Think the kid’s right, Yoonji. You should let him take you home.You’ve had a long night already.” Jessi advises and Yoonji can feel her will crumble. She is drunk and she is tired. Perhaps she should call it a night. But having this kid taking her home … She sighed in defeat, tossing some bills on the table and making sure she’s got her phone and keys.

“Text us in the morning!” Hyolin calls after her as she leaves, Jungkook’s hand on her lower back.

“It was nice meeting you!” the boy shouts over his shoulder.

Outside the bar there were many parked cars but only one of them was a Ferrari with yellow underlights and tinted windows. How could Yoonji forget just how much of a fuckboy the kid was?

“Do you even know how to drive?”

“I learnt last month!”

Of course he didn’t learn how to drive while high but the drug made him feel like the sky was the limit. He was thrumming with energy, felt like he had electricity under his skin, a constant vibration through his bones. Sure, his ears were thumping with his elated heartbeat but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. He opened the door for Yoonji and ignored her eye rolls before settling behind the wheel of the low, luxury car.

“Was this a present from daddy?” Yoonji mocks him, he only laughs, her insults rolling off of him like water off a duck.

He was a poor driver, ran three red stopsights and went over the speed limit, cutting lanes and never once stopping for pedestrians. Yoonji groaned at the thought of being pulled over by one of her coworkers. Somehow though they eventually made it to her building.

To say that the Ferrari was out of place in her small neighborhood would be an understatement. Yet Jungkook made no comment on it, not on her dingy staircase where some neighbors liked to leave their trashbags, not on her shabby old door, not even on her slightly messy and cramped living room.

“Make yourself at home … if you can …” she said and trudged towards the bathroom.

Jungkook wanted to say that he wasn’t unfamiliar with small, old apartment buildings, that his first years of life were spent in a place much like this until his parents were able to finally afford a modest house just outside town. He wasn’t a stranger to the cold draft that never seemed to have a clear source, he knew that the hot water would stop at some point if you took long showers, he was aware that at night you could hear the furniture creak and the pipes crying through the walls with their use. He kept his lips shut however and made his way towards the stuffy kitchen where he set about making some instant coffee for the girl in hopes of sobering her up.

Yoonji rubbed at her face and splashed cold water on it a couple of times. She looked in the mirror and hated how the neon light made her look like she was half dead. Three pairs of panties were hung to dry and she groaned in frustration. She was never one to have guests so she never really bothered with keeping the house in tip top shape.

She shouldn’t be having guests though … it was 2 am and this boy … This boy had made her coffee.

“You … you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

She took the mug from him, sipping carefully not to burn her tongue. She finally got a good look at him. Damn it, he was so handsome. Tired and a bit ruffled but handsome nonetheless. And his eyes were so sweet and huge …

“Did you take something?”

The boy just nods. He thought it wouldn’t be obvious.

“What was it? Weed? Ecstasy?”


“Jesus fucking Christ, kid !”

She turns around, angrily setting the mug on the counter and breathing in deeply, it was not her job to scold the kid, it was his business, she had no responsibility towards him.

He bites his lip, feels guilty for some reason but can’t explain himself, can’t just tell her that he needed it after killing two people and being forced into having sex again.

“Look… you can crash here tonight, I don’t want you driving around and fucking crashing or something. You can take the bed, I’ll sleep here …”

Jungkook interrupts her rambling by drawing her closer by her hips and crashing their mouths together. She tastes like alcohol and lip balm and he just simply taste stale and dry but neither of them pull away, instead they grab what they can, Jungkook going like any youngster for her chest while Yoonji starts running her hands all over his body, feeling the defined muscles beneath his shirt.

They walk backwards, still connected, Yoonji leading them towards her bedroom, hitting the furniture on their way and paying it no mind and after a minute or so of blindly fumbling with each other they fall on the unmade bed, sinking into the softness.

Jungkook licks at her mouth hungrily and still inexperienced, he’s giddy however and eager. Hates to admit that this is so much better than kissing Taehyung or even Seokjin, that this feels somehow right, proper, no looming threat over him, just honest, genuine desire. He stops however when he realizes that Yoonji is only kissing him back because she doesn’t know him, she doesn’t know what he had done just a few hours before and she’s probably still drunk.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, noticing the sudden sadness crossing the younger’s face.

“It’s nothing …” he avoids.

Yoonji smiles at him softly and brings their lips together once more but this time gently and Jungkook whimpers, he’s not used to this. He’s so hard and he’s getting so needy, hips bucking without his control, lightly humping Yoonji’s thigh from where he lays on top of her.

“Needy bunny.” She giggles and Jungjook’s cheeks are aflame.

Suddenly Yoonji moves, slotting her legs between Jungkook’s and grabbing his wrists, turning them around and pushing his arms towards the headboard with one hand and pulling out her issued handcuffs, immobilizing the boy. Jungkook’s eyes are as big as saucers, it takes him a few moments to realize that he can’t bring his arms down, that he had been cuffed to the headboard.

“The fuck are you, a cop or something?”

“Or something.” Yoonji smirks.

Jungkook laughs louder and louder, almost worrying her but she figures it must be the drugs in his system. He laughs because how ironic is it, getting cuffed on the same night he had done this to others? He doesn’t care however, doesn’t fear Yoonji in anyway. What could she do to him compared to Kim Seokjin?

Yoonji kisses him sweetly one more time then straddles him and with surprising force rips his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere, making Jungkook giggle once more.

“What’s so funny?”

“Noona’s not scary.”

“I’m not trying to be, baby, just want you naked faster.”

With that she deftly unbuttons and unzips his trousers, pulling them down forcibly. Jungkook realizes he forgot his belt in Taehyung’s room, the belt he used to spank the dancer until he almost bled … he made him hurt so badly, made him cry so prettily. Taehyung got high on pain, loved to be humiliated and put in his place and Jungkook loved having control over him, loved the power that came with it. In Seokjin’s world power was everything and he would never yield it to another man willingly. However, as Yoonji pulls down his boxers and frees his hard-on that twitches at the sudden attention, he realizes that with her things were different, with Yoonji he liked giving in, didn’t mind her jabs and acid comments, liked letting her pin him down and tell him what to do … because he was safe here.

“Hey …” he hears as she wraps her fingers around his length and begins pumping him slowly. “Still with me?”

“Yeah … was just thinkin…”

“What were you thinking about?” Yoonji asks as she licks from the boy’s balls to his slit, making him keen and drip precum.

“About … how noona makes me feel…”

“How do I make you feel?” she licks again, tongue flat against his erection.

“Ah … safe and … wanted …”

“Oh, bunny, you are safe with me and I do want you. As much as I shouldn’t, I do.”

She keeps licking, kittenish around the head and hard and sloppy up and down his length. She moves her hand in time with her licks and once she has him dripping and keening and breathing hard, hands pulling against the cuffs, she engulf him, sucking only the tip at first and then moving down, gagging herself on his pulsing cock. The boy almost screams and she knows she’ll get a noise complaint tomorrow but she loves his reactions, loves the sounds he makes, loud moans and shouted cussing.  She keeps a steady pace and wonders if the boy had ever gotten a blowjobs before. When she tries deepthroating him she has to use her free hand to keep his hips from bucking up and gagging her even worse.

“Noona … ‘m close…”

She sucks around his length and bobs her head quickly until she feels him tense up, cock rock hard and ready to shoot and that’s when she pulls off with a wet pop and grips him at the base, preventing his orgasm and making him scream.

“Shh, bunny, it’s ok … Shh, you’re doing so well for me, baby …”

Jungkook whimpers, mind lost. He feels his hands and feet tingly and a bit numb, his entire body heavy and light at the same time. Was it the drug or just Yoonji or this entire night that’s making him see stars? Either way, Jungkook decided to just let go and stop thinking so much.

“Wanna cum …” he cries.

“ I know you do, bunny.” She smiles and pets his red cock, making it twitch.

“Wanna fuck noona …”

Yoonji laughs and raises to her knees, discarding her clothes at long last. Jungkok watches her with lust hooded eyes, gasps after each garment hits the floor, bites his lip when the bra comes flying off and Yoonji’s breasts bounce with the motion. She smirks at him before removing her panties, the dark wet patch obvious on them.

She climbs back over him, straddling his chest, giving him the best view of her core.

“Look what you do to me, baby boy, look how wet you got me.”

“Can I … wanna…”

“Want noona to sit on your face?”

“Yes! Yes, please!”

She lowers herself carefully, lacing her fingers with Jungkook’s own where his hands were cuffed to the headboard and soon enough she can feel the boy’s tongue on her, licking like he was starved, sucking on her lips, being sloppy and messy, pussy juice running down his chin. She lets him go at it for a while, listening to the boy slurping and moaning and gasping for hair and then she begins circling her hips in tight circles, rubbing herself all over his tongue and nose and chin. Jungkook keens louder, licks faster and when Yoonji glances over her shoulder she sees him humping the air desperately. Suddenly the boy latches on to her clit and as soon as he realizes what it is begins sucking and nipping gently at it with his teeth. Yoonji moans, throwing her head back, letting go of his hands and grasping at his hair, keeping him in place and egging him on. He bucks up and moans and sucks with all his energy, loving how desperate Yoonji is for his touch, how good he can make her feel, he wants to show her, wants to prove himself worthy of her attention and when she eventually comes she has his name on her lips, shouting it in ecstasy and drowning him in her juices.

It gets hard to breathe but he stays stills and waits for her to come down from her high. He can’t see anything, can only smell and taste her and he’s extremely happy for some reason.

Yoonji gets off on shaky legs and plasters herself to his side, bangs wet and stuck to her forehead, entire body glistening with sweat. Jungkook thinks she’s beautiful.

“You’re really something, bunny.”

“I did good?”

“You did very good, baby, made noona cum so hard …”

“Noona…” the boy whines pathetically, bucking up to get her to notice his neglected cock.

“Hm? Baby still hard? Didn’t cream himself like last time just from eating me out?”

He squeals in embarrassment but has nowhere to hide and she giggles.

“Wanna fuck your noona, bunny? Wanna put your pretty cock in my cunny and make me feel good there too?”

“Yes, yes, please …”

She moves and kisses him sweetly before once more straddling him. She’s really dizzy and realizes that the alcohol was still very much in her system, her orgasm only making her heart pump it faster through her body. Yoonji closes her eyes and breathes in deeply, not wanting to worry the boy under her, although he also seemed lost, probably from the meth he’d taken.

Yoonji rubs her pussy all over Jungkook’s length, making him twitch and moan, coating him in her juices. Her clit was swollen and sensitive and the glide of the boy’s cock over it made her keen and shake with want.

“Noona, please … please… wanna be inside, wanna see how it feels …”

At that Yoonji opens her eyes and gives him an incredulous look. The boy had tears running down his red cheeks and his blown pupils made him look so innocent, he was biting his plump lips and moaning so sweetly Yoonji almost felt bad.

“Are you sure about this, baby?”

“’M sure … want noona to be my first …”

She blushes and nods, grabbing his throbbing cock at the base and placing it right at her hole, wiggling a bit before lowering herself carefully. Jungkook pulls at the cuffs again and throws his head back in pleasure, mouth agape and drooling.

Yoonji lets him settle, lets him breathe for a bit, leaning over him and bracketing his head with her arms. The boy looks up at her with something like awe written on his face and when she kisses him he begins bucking up into her.

Jungkook was big, not massively so but surely above average, Yoonji could feel him deep inside of her and she loves the drag of his hard shaft as he pulled almost all the way out before pushing roughly in. He was not very coordinated but very eager and he moaned and whined after each thrust. To quiet him a little Yoonji shifted and let him latch on to her breast to suckle.

He didn’t last long, everything was so overwhelming, felt so good, so right Jungkook thought he was going to faint the second his orgasm hit. He was sloppily thrusting up into Yoonji, eagerly listening to her whispered cussing and heavy breathing, hoping that he was making her feel good. The tight coil in his lower belly however quickly expanded and he didn’t even get the chance to let go of her breast and warn her before he was cumming inside her with a shout. He shivered from head to toes as ropes and ropes of cum painted her insides white, cum even escaping from around his cock where he was sheathed in her and leaking down his balls, soaking the mattress. He was panting and his vision was blurry, thighs trembling uncontrollably, he had never cum so hard in his life.

Yoonji kissed his forehead and uncuffed him, releasing his numb arms which he quickly wrapped around her before toppling them over. He wanted to burry himself in her and never come out, he hugged her tightly, tangled his legs with hers, shoved his nose in her neck and inhaled and kissed at it until his heart eventually steadied its beat.

Yoonji hugged him back and kept kissing the top of his head and drawing patterns with her fingers on his back. The room was spinning with her and she was so, so tired.

“Never do drugs again, you hear?” she told him, a while after he had finally calmed down enough to speak.

“Yes, noona …”

“And never drive under the influence again.”

“Yes, noona …”

“And stop being so cute!”

Jungkook just giggled at that and snuggled closer. He was happy, he was finally happy.

The milky morning light had no chance against Yoonji’s heavy curtains. The clock read 6 am but thank fuck it was Sunday. They could afford to sleep in, they deserved it after all. Jungkook whispered the sweetest good night.


Namjoon’s penthouse shone in many shades of blue. The buildings around theirs had huge screens playing ads throughout the night and the aircraft warning lights would blink until morning. Despite being able to see, Namjoon still stumbled every few steps, colliding with the furniture and kicking over his own feet. Yoongi held on to him as well as he could, groaning with the effort of balancing the tall man. The mobster was incredibly drunk and Yoongi struggled to get him home. He braced himself for the final few steps and dumped his boss on the plush sofa of the living room. Namjoon laughed.

“Is this how you dump bodies too?”

“Those are not usually in one piece … I’m heading home, see you tomorrow, boss.”

“Wait, wait … where’s Jimin? Jimin! Get him for me, will you?”

Yoongi groaned again in annoyance but he knew how Namjoon got whenever he drank too much so he dumped his waistcoat on an armchair nearby and made his way towards the bedroom. Jimin was up, knees drawn to his chest, eyes big.

“Is he drunk?” he whispers.

“Yeah … I’m sorry, Minnie.”

Jimin just sighs and nods, getting out of bed and stretching a little before following Yoongi obediently.

Namjoon also managed to discard his waistcoat and tie and even unbutton his shirt halfway through. Unfortunately he also managed to pour himself a glass of scotch.

“Boss, I think you had enough for one night …” Yoongi tries, carefully.

“Quit being such a fucking hen, Yoons …” Namjoon spits and downs half of the glass in one swing. Jimin fidgets next to Yoongi.

“Ah, there he is …” the mobster stands up on unsure legs and waddles towards the blond, caressing his cheek with his free hand.

“Daddy …” Jimin tries but there’s fear in his voice.

“Haven’t seen you all night, doll, where were you hiding?”

“I was just … on the balcony … I left before my curfew …”

“So obedient, isn’t he?” he addresses Yoongi who just nods, trying not to look at them, trying to spare Jimin the embarrassment. “And pretty. Don’t you think he’s pretty, Yoons?”

“Yeah, boss, he’s pretty.” Yoongi parrots.

“Ah, but you’ve never seen him fully! Jimin, go ahead, strip for us, show Yoongi here just how pretty you really are.”

“Daddy!” Jimin gasps and holds on to his pajamas as if the man was going to tear them from him.

“I said strip, Jimin, don’t test me.”

The boy’s got tears pricking at his eyes and Yoongi tries to protest, tries telling Namjoon that he believes him anyway but he gets silenced as well. Jimin starts crying, big tears rolling down his quickly reddening face as he takes off his nightwear. He stops when he’s left with only his panties on and hopes that that’s enough but Namjoon insists he takes those off as well. He’s hiccupping with the force of his crying once he’s completely bare.

Yoongi has caught glimpses of him naked before, Jimin was usually shameless around the house and especially around him but this was different. This wasn’t Jimin owning his body and displaying it out of his own will but he was very much showed off as property, as Namjoon’s cute little playing. The head mobster swings back the last of his drink and almost smashes the glass when he slams it on the coffee table.

“Look at that … what did I tell you, Yoons? Fucking gorgeous.” Yoongi doesn’t look, eyes glued to the floor and Jimin is grateful for the gesture.

“You know when I first found Jimin I was broken … I was so hurt you couldn’t imagine the pain I was in. I took him in and took care of him to distract myself from it all and even though I hadn’t asked for it, Jimin took care of me too. I used to drink way more often, remember, doll? You used to wash me up and put me to bed and cook me breakfast the next morning. And Jimin’s smart, Yoons, I don’t think you realize just how smart he is. Whatever I babbled in my drunken stupor he listened to and took note. He’s actually a brunet, did you know? But he discovered I prefer blond so within our first month together he bleached it. He found out I prefer him in heels and silks and jewelry so he changed his style accordingly. He adapted so fast, started calling me daddy and talking all sweet … Whatever I told him to do he’d do it without question. He made it so that he was indispensable. He saw how fucked up I was and took advantage of that. I can’t blame him, of course, we all do what we gotta do to survive. Poor thing even tricked himself into loving me, ain’t that so, doll? And I promised I’d take care of you …”

Namjoon turns on unsteady legs and drops himself back on the sofa. Jimin is still crying, trying to cover himself with his small hands and Yoongi bites his lip in anger.

“You two could be my ruin … My ony friend and my only lover … If you wanted to you could take me down …”

“We’re loyal to you, Namjoon.”

“Are you, Yoons? If I told you to kill Jimin, would you?”

Yoongi physically recoils from the words alone, hands clenching into fists at his sides, brows furrowing, he can’t even stand the thought of it. He says nothing, knowing full well that Namjoon will see this as reason to distrust him but unable to utter the lie with Jimin present. Namjoon laughs and it’s bitter.

“What about you, petal? If I gave you my gun and told you to shoot Yoongi, would you?”

Jimin hiccups a few times, trying to get his breathing in order but doesn’t hesitate for a second more.

“If that’s what daddy wanted me to do, yes.”

Yoongi’s head drops in defeat, the words ringing in his ears and Namjoon is laughing again, louder this time around.

“He’s always been the better liar out of you two.”

Jimin bites his lip but doesn’t comment any further.

“Put him back to bed … Take tomorrow off … I … I’m sorry …”

Yoongi understood that Namjoon was talking to him. He waited for a few moments until his boss laid down and seemed to have blacked out. Jimin was already hurriedly putting his clothes back on and furiously wiping his tears away. He didn’t wait for Yoongi and walked towards the bedroom on his own. Yoongi sighed deeply into the stillness of the room and decided to bring Jimin a glass of water.

He found the younger back on the bed, knees once again drawn to his chest. He was pouting and in any other context would have looked adorable. Jimin drank the water like he needed it and handed the glass back to Yoongi.

“He was right, you know? It was a lie. I wouldn’t shoot you.”

The older doesn’t know what to answer but he’s relieved. He hesitates for a moment before leaning down and brushing his lips against Jimin’s forehead.

“Call me tomorrow if you can.”

“Good night, Yoonie.”


You can hardly register time passing on Sunday mornings. The sun seems to creep from behind the horizon, slowly, almost afraid to wake anybody up. Not that anybody would get up at the crack of dawn on the last day of the weekend. There are birds singing and cats napping on benches in the park and there’s almost an eerie silence to the usually bustling city.

Taehyung also moves slowly, as if sleepwalking, just a few more steps and there he is, finally home. It had been one hell of a night.

His apartment is warm, having left his curtain open the sun had made itself at home. The boy smiles a little at the shiny floating particles of dust and starts humming a tune he doesn’t remember the lyrics of.

His bottom aches and so do his thighs, there’s a drum between his ears and its beat is making his entire skull hurt and there’s something like led in his spine, he feels stiff all over. For a few moments he ponders going to bed and just waiting the day but he’s nocturnal enough as it is, no point in playing vampire when such a beautiful day just started. He makes coffee and fires up his laptop and tablet and desktop.

The lights of the screens burn his eyes but he puts on a pair of glasses he uses only on such occasions. The bitter taste of the hot coffee wakes him up a little as he goes through the motions. Hacking is only hard in the beginning, it’s hard getting in but after that point it’s only a matter of staying undetected and Taehyung is nothing short of invisible. He clicks away and takes note of any changes, any anomalies that spike his curiosity.

The sound of his phone startles him. He clears his throat as best as he can before answering.

“Morning, angel.”

“Morning, did I wake you?”

“Nah… just got home. Long ass night …”

“Same here. Want me to come get you?”

“Can we get McDonald’s on the way?”

“Anything you want, babe.”

“Then get your sweet ass over here!”

“On my way!”

Taehyung smiles but it turns sad pretty soon. He loves Hoseok, he loves him like a fool, desperately, endlessly and senselessly. Yet Hoseok doesn’t love him and even if he did he’d stop the second he’d knew who he really was. Taehyung was just lying to himself, living a fantasy. There was no hope for him.

He clicked angrily at his keyboards and pressed enter with the determination of a man on his last straw. He could hear the motorcycle downstairs and before running downstairs to jump into Hoseok’s arms he texted Jungkook.

Good morning



Chapter Text

“Sir, I’m going to need you to stay awake. Sir?”

Staying awake was the last thing that Hoseok wanted to do at this point. The pain that was radiating from the open wound pulsated with every beat of his erratic heart. This was the adrenaline, he knew this but the knowledge was of little comfort since he knew it was going to wear off and the ache would soon become unbearable. He tried to wiggle his fingers but that only made him jolt and moan at the burn of it. Were his tendons harmed? Was it just the bone? The muscle was clearly fucked judging by the amount of blood that still seeped out despite the EMT’s compression. Was it a lot of blood or did it just seem like a lot to him? He should probably look away, he figures, no point in making himself even more nauseous. The ambulance jostles him around, speeding towards the hospital and he tried to figure out their current location but being stretched out and dizzy made him too confused to process. The ambulance stunk of disinfectant and plastic. Thankfully the other EMT got around to finally settling an oxygen mask over his face, the breath of unpolluted air helping to soothe his stomach that was threatening to spill.

“I’m going to administer you a painkiller now. This might sting.”

Hoseok scoffs, the sound muffled by the mask. What’s a shot compared to what he’s experiencing right now?

They inject him straight into the open wound and he hollers in pain, thrashing on the gurney to which he is luckily strapped to. Sting? That lying asshole …

“Easy … This should numb you in a few minutes.”

Hoseok had a few choice words for the man but he chooses to scowl at him instead, feeling too drained to actually form any sentences. His eyes close and open slowly, lids heavy with the exhaustion of the entire ordeal. It hurts, it hurts like a motherfucker, so badly it makes his eyes water. He’s scared, he realizes too, he’s afraid that this might be it, that this could end his career as an officer, that he’ll never get Yoongi back, he’ll never arrest the Kims, he’ll never get to confess to Tae …

Sounds become echoy around him as if his ears were suddenly stuffed with cotton then all he can hear clearly is the siren of the ambulance and the rapid beeping of the heart monitor.

“What a shitty ass Monday ...” he grumbles.



It even started out shitty, with a heavy downpour and the faded yet still omnious sounds of thunder in the distance. Hoseok arrived drenched, patting his face with a paper towel and hurriedly making his way downstairs to their basement hq. He was late, Tae needed to be dropped off downtown and traffic had been a nightmare. Allthewhile Yoonji was blowing up his phone. They had received new info.

“Sorry, I’m late!”

“Fucking finally!” Yoonji shouts as soon as he enters.

“What’s the tea?”
The whole team was huddled around one of the laptops, Hoseok’s laptop, jutting down notes, Hyolin typing away like some sort of keyboard magician.

“Two bodies found at a truck stop, south side of the city. Gruesomely butchered and tossed without care.” Hyejin explains.

“That’s Namjoon’s turf.” Hoseok notes while discarding his wet leather jacket and joining the team around the screen. The bodies were indeed disgustingly mutilated, the mud doing little to conceal the gore.

“Yet this is clearly not his modus operandi, a man like Kim Namjoon would never be so careless. The brutality, however, is in line with Kim Seokjin’s usual methods of disposal.” Kibum observes while pointing at the pictures as if delivering a lecture.

“Thesaurus’ right. Seokjin’s tryinna frame his ex.” Hoseok agrees.

“I believe he’s taunting him. Seokjin is intelligent enough to realize this would never work if he wanted to incriminate his former lover.” Kibum adds.

“Does he always talk like this?” Yoonji asks.

“Pretty much, just ignore it. He’s got a point tho.”

“Ok but can we talk about how we received these pictures in the first place? Your laptop’s clearly hacked, Jung.” Jessi interrupts.

“Yeah, I should have the tech team look into it. we’ve gotten pictures of bodies before but they were different somehow … like the camera was of a different quality and the angles were consistent before while these look rushed, almost like sneak shots.”

“You think one of the Kims suspects Yoongi?”

“I wouldn’t bet on it but the way in which these pictures were taken seems to me like the person taking them was slightly panicked and acted on impulse, risking getting caught...”

“Any chances Min might have found himself an ally?” Jessi suddenly asks.

“Why do you think that?”

“I’ve had my eyes on this one individual I think is Namjoon’s gun supplier, his name’s Wang Jiaer. You’ve got some info on a Wang Jackson in those files of yours and it seems to be the same guy. If it is then he’s been away on “business” in China for a while now. If Min won him over he could be the one sending us the info from a safe distance.”

“That’s worth looking into.” Hoseok agrees readily. “ Alright, let’s get moving. Jessi, go find yourself a plane ticket to China and put it on the Sup’s tab, Hyolin, take my beatdown laptop to the nerds from tech and cross-check everybody on those damn files against every record from every department, Hyejin, you take dr Kibum and check out the truck stop where the bodies were dumped and Yoonji, imma need you to help me write a bullshit report to the Sup that sounds legal enough to start working on an extraction mission. We’re gonna take the Kims down, folks, but we need Yoongi with us in this damp basement to make that happen. All clear?”

“Got it, boss.”

“On our way.”

“I’ll bring you back souvenirs.”




Jungkook’s frame was larger than Hoseok’s so when the young one hugged Taehyung from behind he felt engulfed. The arms circling his middle were hard and bulky, muscles grown big and powerful after months of obsessive workouts. Jungkook’s skin was paler than Hoseok’s honey-dipped one but it was just as soft. Hoseok was hairier too, Taehyung noticed. The chin resting on his shoulder wasn’t as pointy, the breath that tickled his neck didn’t smell of sweet lemons. Jungkook ran hotter than Hoseok, his wide chest warm like a furnace, so welcoming, so inviting. Taehyung leaned back and wondered for the Nth time what he was doing.

“Do you still have some of that stuff you gave me on Saturday?”

“I do but I’m not giving you any. Master Kim will have my head if I get you addicted.”

“I just wanna get my mind off of it ...”

Jungkook nuzzles his face in the sensitive skin where Taehyung’s neck meets his shoulder, making the older shiver.

“I thought you had no problem with murder.”

“I don’t … But corpses are disgusting … Don’t wanna have to deal with ‘em ...”

Dumping the bodies on Namjoon’s turf had been a surprise order from Seokjin. Taehyung didn’t have a clue about it until Jungkook called him and practically begged for his help with the transportation. It was unbearably disgusting. Over the weekend the bodies had began decaying and rotting, the stench ville and the body fluids practically oozing out with each jostle of the stiff limbs. Jungkook had thrown up three times before they managed to dump the dead in the plastic covered trunk of the Ferrari and he dry heaved all the way to the truck stop while driving. That distracted him enough to not notice Taehyung fire a rushed text to Namjoon. Once they arrived on location Taehyung had helpfully offered to haul the remains out of the trunk so that Jungkook didn't have to see them again and possibly start vomiting bile.

“Shouldn’t have joined the mob if you can’t handle it.”

“What else was I to do?”

“Dunno … finish school, get a job, get married, make little Jungkooks ...”

“Why didn’t you do that?”

“There’s no place for me in the outside world ...”

“There isn’t for me either, hyung.”

Taehyung lifted an arm to pet Jungkook’s head still resting on his shoulder, making him nuzzle even closer. They stayed like that for a few peaceful moments until the younger began peppering kisses along the column of Taehyung’s neck.

“Stop that.”


“You don’t have to pretend to like me when Master Kim’s not around.”

“I’m not pretending. I do like you now ...”

“You’re just lonely, Kook.”

“So are you.”

That stung. It stung enough to make Taehyung untangle from the embrace and reach for his bag, pulling out from a carefully folded hoodie a small bag of powder.

“Really? You’d rather give me drugs than sleep with me?”

“Drugs don’t break your heart, Kook.”




The teams assigned to handle the murder had done their best against the heavy rain that showed no signs of stopping, however, the improvised covers and absurd amounts of plastic sheets could do nothing to save the scene from damage. The mud was almost ankle deep and any fingerprints were surely washed away by now. The officers left so many footprints it was impossible to discern any of them, same for tire tracks. There was nothing that could give them any leads here.

Yet Hyejin and Kibum sat still under their dark umbrellas even after the last patrol car had left, eyes trained to look for things that aren’t there, to work backwards from deconstructed scenes.

“Penny for your thoughts?” the psychiatrist asks after a long while of just listening to the hypnotic sound of the rain.

“Does human trafficking fit Namjoon’s psychological profile?”

“Not at all, he treats crime like a business and hasn’t got the stomach for the grittier side of it.”

“Other than murder.”

“I’m almost certain that Kim Namjoon very rarely does the killing himself. Why do you ask?”

“He owns this shipping company. They transport goods by land and sea, heavy loads, big trucks and boats. Many traffickers hide their victims in crates and move them around as objects.”

“Perhaps he’s transporting something else ...”

“Jessi thinks it might be guns. But we can’t prove anything, all of Kim’s trucks and ships get checked at designed stops along their routes and all the checkups are in order. We never had any reason to do a search. And now that we do … Everything is empty, nobody is here.”

“It’s very suspicious.”

“It is but the bastard had the perfect excuse for it: the company is on a short hiatus due to upgrades being done in their navigation system.”

“That means you can’t check the GPSs of any of the trucks, right?”

“Exactly. They’re probably being wiped clean of data as we speak.”

“Kim Namjoon is a very resourceful man.”

“You almost sound proud of him, doctor.”

“I admire a worthy foe.”

“This worthy foe needs to be brought to justice.”

“Without a doubt and I have the utmost faith in officer Jung’s capability to do so. Once he gets his head out of his own rear ...”

Hyejin laughs at that and looks around one more time, taking a few steps, her boots squelching in the muddy soil.

“Why would Kim Seokjin do this?” she wonders aloud.

“It’s probably a warning.”

“What? He thinks two bodies are going to scare us away?”

“The warning is not for us. He’s trying to show Namjoon that he’s also vulnerable, that if the police come for him, they’ll go down together.”

“Huh … That’s good then, we just have to catch either of them and the other will follow like dominos.”

“Unless they do something unexpected.”

“Like what?”

“Work together.”




“According to Google and the law, we have no basis for an extraction mission.” Yoonji huffs, leaning back precariously in her chair.

“Yeah, ok, fair, but can we bullshit our way around that?” Hoseok insists, replacing one of the nicotine patches on his arm.

“Not unless we can find evidence or someone to testify that his cover is in danger of being blown and his life is in peril.”

“Then we need Jessi to arrest that Wang dude and just beat a testimony out of him.”

“Ok, we can’t have the rest of the team know that we beat up people and lie about evidence.”

“You think they’re snitches?”

“I think we could use at least a semblance of a good reputation as police officers.”

“Fuck that, all I want is Yoongi back, didn’t we say we were gonna do everything in our power to make that happen?”

“Yes but this is more than our personal vendetta!”

Hoseok scoffed in annoyance and Yoonji sighed, exasperated. They were both hotheads and it somehow usually worked in their favor but ever so often it backfired and made them bicker like children. It didn’t that this was something incredibly painful and personal to both of them and they knew deep down that they had to keep it together if they wanted to see this through to the end. What they needed in times like these wad distance and that’s why Hoseok got up and offered to go upstairs and bring them both fresh coffee. Yoonji smiled a little at the gesture, understanding it correctly as a peace offering and she handed him her empty mug.

“Thank you, oppa.”

“I told you not to call me that in public.”


“I’ll spit in your coffee, demon.” he called back as he quickly climbed the stairs.

Ground level was bustling as usual, many people getting busted for traffic accidents due to the heavy rain and neglectful driving. It was still too early for the drunken disorderly to come in but it was prime time for lawyer visits so the noise of voices overlapping and doors getting slammed and phones going off almost gave Hoseok whiplash in comparison to the cottony silence of the basement. Perhaps it wasn’t entirely terrible.

As he made his way towards the coffee machine he saw the attorney general being escorted to the interogation room. His face had healed almost completely by now and after the trial that was almost a formality for the sake of the news stations, he was going to be shipped off to prison. Still the bastard is still trying to get a lesser sentence, desperately trying to convince his lawyers to go for an insanity plea which was utterly ridiculous to everybody.

Hoseok turned his gaze back to the coffee maker right on time, his mug almost spilling over. He switched it for Yoonji’s and his thoughts drifted back to the case, back to how Kim Seokjin had so easily slipped right through their fingers. He was so caught up in his own mind that he didn’t even register the first gunshot.

He jolted in surprise when he heard the screaming, turned around just as another shot was being fired. Officers around him were just as confused but reached for their weapons on instinct. Hoseok wanted to do the same, hand already reaching towards where his holster usually rests but he had left on his desk downstairs, not wanting to be uncomfortable as he settled to discuss with Yoonji.

One more shot and then several rapid ones follow. Hoseok finally spots the shooter, a tall, lanky blond man with crazed eyes and dripping wet from the rain outside from which he had come. The officers scream at him to drop his weapon and put his hands behind his head but the shooter only laughs, a broken, crooked sound that attests to his mental state.

A few tense seconds pass and the madman locks eyes with Hoseok. He smiles, all teeth, brows raised high and it sends shivers down Hoseok’s spine more so than the gun pointed now in his direction.

He’s been here before, staring down the barrel, it shouldn’t make him freeze, it shouldn’t surprise him that such a thing would happen, he is an officer after all. Yet his body is too stiff to react, mind racing for a correct move and unable to settle on one.

“Jung Hoseok!” the maniac screams at him. “I won’t let you hurt him! I won’t let you take away his life!”

He doesn’t understand, he doesn’t know this man, who is he talking about? It doesn’t matter, his brain decides, you’ve gotta run! His muscles finally unlock, fear driving him now as he turns and tries to duck behind a desk but he’s moments too late. The bullet hits him and he falls.

Hoseok has been here before as well. The exact same shoulder he registers, good hand grabbing the open wound. He’s bleeding heavily, he can feel the torn, heated flesh, smell the copper and hear the steps coming from below. His vision is getting blurry and the searing pain settles in like an afterthought.

He catches a glimpse of Yoonji, her legs carrying her swiftly up the stairs and over the chairs and desk. He tries to stand up a little, tries to call after her, warn her of the danger but he can’t.

He doesn’t see that Yoonji is armed and out to kill, doesn’t hear her scream in anger, almost feral as she tackles the shooter full body, chest out as if she were bulletproof. Hoseok tries to shout after her but his voice dies in his throat. Yoonji disarms the attacker so quickly even the stunned officers around them hardly catch the movement. And then she hits the man, butt of her gun colliding with his jaw and then the back of his head, her knees swiftly lifting and kicking him in the crotch, the stomach and then the nose once he doubles over in pain. She should stop there, she hears her colleagues screaming at her but she is seeing red and before anybody can summon the courage to pull her away she empties her gun in the man’s body.




By nightfall, the sky had cleared up and stars were twinkling beautifully against the dark backdrop. It was finally peaceful, the incessant sound of raindrops gone at last, the air clear and fresh. Namjoon had opened one of the windows and closed the lights in his office, relying only on the diffused glow of the city lights to move around and settle with a drink in his leather chair. It had been an exhausting day.

He woke up hungover and cranky to a text that forced him to evacuate an entire branch of his business in a matter of hours. He had to destroy a significant part of the goods for fear of possible evidence in case the police decided to be more thorough and lost millions, a setback that will anger his clients for months to come. Nonetheless, the damage was manageable compared to the alternative that would have been disastrous.

Namjoon sighed and stared at his drink as if a solution could be found at the bottom of his glass. He knew rationally that that wasn’t a possibility, he had been down that route enough times before.

In the calm of the late evening his phone buzzed and Namjoon expected it to be Yoongi. He didn’t want to speak to his lieutenant, not yet at least, he wasn’t in the mood for reconciliation. However, the contact ringing him was one that almost made him drop his glass. He fumbled with the phone for a second before answering hastily, afraid to miss the call.


“We have rats, Namjoon.” the familiar voice comes from the other end of the line. “I send my most trusted man to dump those bodies on your turf and in a matter of hours the police shows up. Now had it been on my side of the city I would have been worried but given the current state of affairs I believe it’s safe to assume that neither of us can be sure anymore.”

Namjoon belatedly realizes he had been holding his breath. He exhales at long last and takes a few moments to process what he had just been told. Yoongi had been right, it wasn’t just them. Was this an organized thing, a coup to take them both down? Was it coming from inside the Kim clans or was it Kwon struggling to gain some power again? Was it one person, two, several? Maybe it was an undercover police officer, maybe a single whistleblower that suddenly wanted to get back on the right side of justice … They had so many people working for them it was impossible to know for sure.

But what was sure was that Seokjin had called him, that it was his voice on the phone, his usual, sweet and even tone, even when he was mad, even when he was worried, none of it showed on the outside.

“I missed you.”

“Don’t. I didn’t call to hear you say that. I need to know that you are aware of what’s happening and that you’re taking steps to remedy the situation.”

“I’ll solve it, I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Anyone else you mean.”

“Jinnie ...”

“Solve this or I will. Good night, Namjoon.”

The beeping of the end of the call went on for a while and Namjoon just listened to it. He didn’t want to close the line, didn’t want to hang up even though Seokjin had. It had been so long since he last heard his voice …

He left the drink unfinished on his desk that night and didn’t pour himself another the following day. He didn't need it anymore, a much stronger fire settling inside his guts now.

Chapter Text

Yoonji was squatting over the toilet and couldn’t pee. She’d been in the stall for almost 10 minutes now and she could hear the officer shuffling just a few steps away from her, most likely running low on patience. Her hand was carefully angled between her legs, tiny plastic cup held firmly for fear of any accidents. Even though at this point what was some pee on her pants compared to the absolute shit she had gotten herself into? Yoonji counted to five and tried to will her bladder to relax. Just a bit, she only needed a bit to send to the lab and prove that she wasn’t on drugs. As if that would help her case in any way.

“Are you done in there?” she hears the man’s voice loaded with annoyance.

“Hold your horses, will ya?” she bites back.

“What’s taking so long?”

“Got my dick trapped in the zipper, wanna come help?”

She gets only a grunt in reply and smirks to herself before focusing once more on the issue at hand. Right, peeing in a cup to prove she wasn’t high. She might as well have been, it would be easier to explain than the pure rage that overcame her.

Yoonji knew this about herself but rarely pondered it. She knew she had a short temper, she had always been like this, fighting with Yoongi when they were kids, fighting with her dad as a teen, fighting with her friends and burning bridges all throughout and college. She had a very short fuse. Reasons for that were plenty but none seem heavy enough to count. Yeah, she had a strict upbringing that made her have a problem with authority, yeah she had old fashioned gendered expectations thrusted upon her from an early age and grew up jealous of her brother’s freedom, yeah she had people underestimate her entire life, pushed her aside, made her feel like less, like she didn’t belong, especially at the Academy. But none of her frustrations are good enough justification for murder. When she saw that maniac point a gun at Hoseok and nobody in the entire department, not one of those trained and armed officers do something, she snapped. She snapped with the rage of a woman defending her family, with fury against the Mob, the corrupted cops, the entire system that allowed them to exist in the first place. She snapped with all the pent up disgust and anger that has been collecting inside of her since Yoongi’s alleged betrayal.

1...2...3… Yoonji finally manages a small trickle. A few drops land on her hand but at this point, she doesn’t care anymore. She fills the cup halfway and screws the lid on tightly before getting off the toilet, wiping and flushing. She stretches a bit, having gone stiff from the position and considers the dark color of her urine. She definitely drinks too much coffee.

Yoonji shoves the warm plastic cup in the officer’s hands and grins with satisfaction at the man’s look of disgust. She quickly washes her hands and doesn’t even wait to be escorted back to her holding cell. A fucking holding cell. That’s what she gets for saving the entire department.

It takes a little over an hour for the Superintendent to come see her. At that point Yoonji had taken to laying on the hard bench and didn’t even bother sitting up straight when her superior entered, forcing the man to draw a chair and sit down, sighing in exasperation.

“You don’t feel even the tiniest amount of remorse, do you?”

“Over doing my job? No.”

“Your job is bringing criminals to justice not slaughtering them.”

“I didn’t slaughter the fucker.”

“No, you just emptied your gun in him to the point that there was nothing left of his face. We still don’t know who he was thanks to that!”

Yoonji looked away. She didn’t want to hear it, somehow direct accusations were worse than the ones she formulated inside her own head.

“He was one of Kim’s men.” Yoonji mutters in the end.

“Which Kim?”

“Does it even matter at this point?!” she spits back, standing up only to pace around the tight confinement.

The Superintendant only watches her, face unreadable. He seems used to this and it only makes Yoonji angrier. Of course, he was used to this, he knew Yoongi and she was nothing but a stand-in for him, nothing more than an imitation that couldn’t even hold on to her badge. She was a joke compared to her brother.

“There’s gotta be a way to fix this.” she says, almost defeated.

“There isn’t much I can do. There’s going to be a trial, they’ll take your badge and if you do everything right they’ll let you walk without a prison sentence. We’re doing our best to keep the media in the dark as much as possible and not let out any details, any names ...”

“Especially mine, right? Another mad Min that went against the law.”

“That’s not what I meant ...”

“Bullshit!” Yoonji almost screams the word, getting all up in her superior’s face who remains just as stoically passive as before. “My brother gets dubbed a villain for infiltrating that snake pit and now it’s my turn on the stake to get flogged for saving your miserable asses!”

“Please calm down, officer Min.”

“Officer… for how much longer, mister Superintendant, Sir? How long do I have before you all start clawing at me?”

“Yoonji, that’s enough!”
The man finally breaks, standing up and forcing Yoonji to take a step back. He’s much more intimidating like this, shoulders tense and burning eyes, the usually calm man now towers over her and for a brief moment Yoonji is hit with the obvious realization that this man is still her superior, that he holds all the power within the department.

“I’m sorry… I was out of line.”

“You’re a loose cannon, Yoonji. But I understand it, alright? I get you. I get where your fire comes from, what it is that’s feeding it relentlessly and I appreciate it for its wild power, but Yoonji, you’ve got to understand as well that this thunder in your chest works against you at times. You can’t always just spear on, throw yourself head first into everything. Look at where that has gotten you. Now is not the time to rage on, especially not against those few of us that are on your side.”

She looks up at him and for once faces him dead on. He’s right, of course he is. She’s known this about herself for a long time, hell, Hoseok had told her the same thing over and over as well. But never before has the fact stared her in the face like it is now. She nervously licks her lips and lets a tired sigh escape her. Her hands reach out and her fingers find themselves intertwining with Choi Siwon’s unmoving ones.

“I need help, Siwon-ssi.”

“You have my full support, as you had from the beginning.”

“No, you don’t understand … I can’t lose my badge. Hoseok’s hurt, I’m the only one that can lead the team … I need to bring my brother back. I’ll do anything.”

“Yoonji, that’s not possible.”

“Please.” Yoonji leans in, squeezes the man’s hands in her own and looks up at him with teary, doe eyes. “I’ll be good to you, I promise, I mean it when I say anything. Just please, please, don’t let them kick me out!”

“What are you even saying, Yoonji?!”

“I’m desperate, Siwon-ssi. Please.”

The man untangles himself from her grasp and steps away. Yoonji looks like she’s moments away from falling on her knees and begging. This can’t be happening. she’s worked so hard to get here, to get on the force and start this mission, she’s so close to saving her brother, she’s the only one that can and everything is about to come crumbling down because of one madman with a gun. It’s a nightmare. The way the Superintendant looks at her with a mix of pity and disgust, the way he walks away without uttering another word.

When the heavy door closes with a defeaning metallic clung a wretched wail pours out of her as if the sky had fallen and landed in shards on her shoulders. Yoonji cries and sobs like she never thought she ever could, until her voice cracks and her eyes sting and swell, until she can barely breathe anymore and can’t even pick herself up off of the cold floor.




Hoseok had to pee and the entire walk towards the bathroom had been an entire saga. From gathering the courage to stand up from the same laying position he’d been in for hours, to waiting for the rush of pain and nausea to subside, to stepping on the cold tiles of the hospital floor because he couldn’t find any slippers anywhere, god dammit, to dragging his IV stand and using it as support to finally reaching the toilet where he stood, dizzy and exhausted and unable to relieve himself because his body was acting like a total bitch as if it hadn’t taken a bullet before.

He almost crashes back into the uncomfortable, squeaky, hospital bed and after glancing at the Ikea clock on the far wall he realizes it took him half an hour just to take a piss. Wonderful, he should be back in shape in no time at this rate.

Hoseok checks his immediate surroundings. He sees his clothes piled up neatly on a chair to his right and he finds his phone on the small bedside table but the battery is dead. Fucking fantastic. He spends another ten minutes fighting off the need to throw up and then downs the water in the tall glass that was mercifully left on the small table as well. He looks out the window and it’s dark outside. He can tell he is in one of the biggest hospitals in the capital and he wonders how much the station is going to pay for his treatment here.

They gave him a private room so they are probably trying to keep the media as far away as possible. He considers looking around for the remote to the old TV mounted on the opposite wall but the thought of having to listen to the news and focus on a bright screen put him off. He faces another dizzy spell and eventually decides to check the damage that had been done.

He couldn’t move his arm. Mostly because he was heavily bandaged but also because even contracting the muscles sent such a painful stab through him he felt it in his guts. Which led to another wave of nausea only this time accompanied by some dry retching.

He looked at it and the bandages were stark white. Good, no more bleeding, a closed wound. He tried peaking under the bandages and he caught a glimpse of the mangled, frankenstein sewed up, iodine covered flesh. He didn’t want to jump to any conclusions but he had a good guess what the doctors had to do. He wonders if he’ll ever be able to shoot again.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.” he mutters to himself.

His career in law enforcement had never been this threatened before yet it was not his job that he was worried about. After all, this whole mission wasn’t about him salvaging his reputation or coming to terms with what happened four years ago, it was about getting his brother back. How was he going to extract Yoongi now? He was fucking bedridden for the foreseeable future and Yoonji was most likely in deep shit as well.

She saved him. She saved the entire damn department. If he hadn’t been shot, Hoseok would have emptied his own gun in the fucker’s head as well, right after Yoonji was done with hers.

He should’ve reacted faster, he shouldn’t have frozen like an imbecile …

Hoseok cries for the first time in years and it hurts more than any bullet.




The beer Taehyung had poured all over himself started to smell like piss but that didn’t matter. The entire club is a sewage to him anyway, the beady, lustful eyes that stare at him, half mast from the drugs and the alcohol are the eyes of this city’s entire rat population. They all congregate here, in this enormous, neon lit trap that Seokjin dubbed a club and he is the most delicious cheese, chew it up and he melts in your mouth.

Taehyung has been dancing for two hours straight. He had argued with the manager and threw a fit at the other dancers that complained about having their turn on the pole, that it was unfair, they needed the money. Taehyung all but spat in their faces.

“If you’ve got any complaints take them to Master Kim, I’m in the mood to dance and that’s exactly what I’m going to do until I grow bored of it.”

“Don’t bitch at us, Tae, what the fuck has gotten into you? Are you high again?”

“It’s none of your damn business. Now get outta my face!”

Of course he was high. He didn’t dissolve the meth like he usually would, carefully weighing the dose, he shot it up straight into his arm without a care. Then, in a daze, put on his thigh high latex stilettos and a thong that was honestly completely useless, you could see everything through it and dumped all the body glitter he had on himself. He giggled at the sparkly, perverted nymph figure in the mirror and starred with unfocused eyes on himself for a moment before deciding to latch his special collar around his neck as well. It was special because it was the one Seokjin gave to him when he took him in, when he decided to not strangle the life out of him after all and give him his name, carving it into his flesh. Kim Taehyung from then on, the most powerful man in Seoul’s plaything.

The most beautiful plaything too. Worth a fortune to anyone and absolutely nothing to Seokjin. Lusted after by everyone and loved by nobody.

Taehyung spun on the pole until his muscles ached and he continued still, hanging upside down, tongue lolling out dirty, enticing. He was hard and leaking on the small stage and a few men were kicked out by the bouncer for wiping out their dicks out to jerk off, unable to stand it anymore. There was so much money thrown at him that he couldn’t see the floor anymore. He most likely had clients booked for the next three months. The lights in the club shone only on him, the music played only for him. Taehyung was so dizzy and so lost, he couldn’t tell his heartbeat apart from the base reverberating in the closed cave-like structure of the Sugarglider.

When he heard the news …

Sudden attack at the capital’s police department, an unidentified armed man stormed the station and opened fire, injuring special agent Jung Hoseok before being killed by a fellow officer who used deadly force instead of disabling the assailant as is standard procedure. An internal investigation is underway and a trial that will most likely end with a prison sentence for the still unnamed officer that allegedly emptied an entire cartridge in the assailant’s head is still to be scheduled. Special agent Jung Hoseok is now hospitalized, following emergency surgery, and is in no immediate danger. The public remembers agent Jung from the terrible failed mission from four years ago that has ended with several deaths after Jung had failed to make the correct decisions and led a team of SWAT agents in what was then named a suicide mission against the mob.”

Taehyung had fainted many times in his life. He fainted from hunger and from pain but never before from pure shock. His mind couldn’t handle the information, he didn’t want to … Sadly, even after he came through, the news was still going, the screen showing old pictures of Hoseok and the anchors hurdling lies and accusations his way just like they did years ago. They didn’t name the assailant but Taehyung knew, they didn’t name the officer but Taehyung knew.

He couldn’t ever see Hoseok again. He didn’t deserve this, he didn’t deserve to share a bed with a snake such as him. How could he return to Hoseok after crawling at Seokjin’s feet? No, this had always been his place, drugged up and numb, beautiful and meaningless. There was no going back from this.


Taehyung lazily spun, upside down, high on the pole, the lights red around him or perhaps it was just the rush of blood to his head as he hung like bait on a hook. Suddenly something jolts him from his daze, a pair of warm hands on his heated cheeks, he opens his eyes, unfocused and sees a familiar figure in reverse.

“I think you danced enough, Tae. The bouncers can hardly hold back all these horny motherfuckers that want to devour you.”

“Only Master Kim can devour me. Him and you, Kookie.”

“Hmm, then why don’t you come upstairs and let us do just that?”

“He’s here?”

“Yeah, the manager called him, said you were being a bad boy.”

“Is he angry?”

“Can’t tell. He’s been watching you though, through the security cams.”

“I wanna see him.”

“Lemme help you down, baby.”

Taehyung all but falls into Jungkook’s arms and the younger ends up carrying him off the stage. Taehyung retches a few times and whimpers pathetically, he’s incredibly high and dizzy. He nuzzles into Jungkook, holding on to him like a lifeline and the younger only chuckles, kisses his sweaty forehead and takes him up to the ground level where Seokjin had his business room set up.

It was soundproof and secure and large enough to hold important meetings in while still being comfortable enough to also spend some quality time in. The rug was plush and it muted any steps, the colors were warm and all the furniture was solid wood and plush, a striking contrast to the underground club which was dark and neon and metal.

Seokjin was reclined in a huge armchair in front of the electric fireplace, laptop opened on a small coffee table. He was indeed watching everything but he shut the lid as soon as Jungkook had entered, carrying his unruly pet. Seokjin rose with a sigh and approached the two, kissing Jungkook deeply before petting Taehyung’s head.

“You can put him down, Guk.”

“I don’t think he can stand, Jin-hyung.”

Ah, so it was hyung now, Taehyung noticed.

“He doesn’t have to. He knows his place.”

Jungkook doesn’t protest anymore and sets the dancer on the rug at their feet. He quickly tries to get his barrings and seat himself properly which means on his knees, forehead to the ground, hands with their palms facing up.

“Good pet. So you do know your place.”

“Yes, Master Kim.”

“Then perhaps you can explain to me why then is it that I received a call from the manager telling me you had gotten in a fight with him and the other workers here, hogging the stage and generally being a selfish slut in public.”

“I’m sorry, Master Kim. I took something before coming to work ...”


“Meth, Master. I took meth.”

“Are you telling me that meth is to blame for you being a stupid, selfish bitch?”

“No, Master.”

“No, of course not. Well it doesn’t surprise me, I’ve known you were a worthless piece of meat since the day I first saw you but you know what the problem is now, doll? The problem is that I have given you the enormous responsibility of loving my darling Jungkook here and I can’t accept you embarrassing him like this in public. Do you understand?”

“I do, Master.”

Seokjin steps away from Taehyung and reaches out to cup Jungkook’s smiling face. He kisses him sweetly before pointing the younger towards a small cupboard to the side. He opens it to reveal an assortment of floggers and metallic tools as well as several razor sharp looking blades. Seokjin hands him a riding crop and gently guides him back to the unmoving figure on the floor.

“Now I know that you have taken a liking to Taehyung, Guk, but you need to discipline him every now and again or else he pulls stunts like these. I’ve been far too busy lately to manage his behavior properly but from now on we will be sharing in that task.”

“What do you want me to do, Sir?” the young one smiles devilishly.

“Whatever feels right, my darling. I’m giving you free rein to experiment. You need to learn how to nurture your power and directed towards a clear purpose. It’s an important skill that I need my right hand man to master. “

“I’ll make you proud.” Jungkook grins and Seokjin can’t help kissing him again before taking a seat once more in the plush armchair, watching the scene unfold before him eagerly.


Jungkook circled Taehyung twice, slowly, taking it all in. The older couldn’t hear his steps and didn’t dare lift his gaze from the floor but he could feel the other’s presence. He knew that he was in Jungkook’s hands tonight and he wondered how he should feel about it. He’d been with Seokjin for years, only with Seokjin, even if countless other people had had his body nobody had reached deep into his very soul as the head mobster did. Seokjin was the only one that violated him to his very core. And now he was about to allow Jungkook to do the same.

Taehyung felt the soft, almost ticklish caress of the crop go from the back of his head all the way down his spine to the curve of his ass. Jungkook did this a few times until he saw goosebumps on the dancer’s arms.

“I’m going to hit you now, Tae.”


“You’re going to thank me for each hit.”


“And tell me you love me.”

Taehyung didn’t reply verbally to the last demand but nodded his head in understanding. Jungkook took his time, as if calculating the right spot to strike first. It seemed that the first blow would never come until it did and somehow it took Taehyung by surprise. It stung but it wasn’t unbearable, it landed right on the soft, fleshy part of his buttocks.

“Thank you.” A pause. “I love you.”

The next hit followed not a second later, to the other cheek, slightly harder, it stung more.

“Thank you.” Another pause. “I love you.”

Again, another strike and this time the crop fell higher, the burn forcing a small gasp from Taehyung’s lips.

“Thank you. I love you.”

“Good.” Jungkook whispered and continued, harder still, higher still.

The next blows landed on Taehyung’s lower back, marking it in hot red stripes that burned. He gasped and whimpered more often, the steady rhythm of the beating and his reply becoming hypnotic. His body was beginning to burn with the stinging pain. Jungkook only hit harder and harder, seemingly determined to cover Taehyung in markings from shoulders to thighs.

“Thank you, I love you. Thank you, I love you...”

He was shaking now and tears had gathered in his drug blown eyes. At some point his palms that were facing upwards had met and he was holding his own hand throughout the beating. Jungkook didn’t admonish him for it, not for that nor for the squirming or the whimpering that delayed his reply. He kept striking him and striking him, focused on his task and only stopped seven blows after Taehyung had started bleeding in bright red tiny rivulets from the few places where the crop had dug too deeply into his flesh and cut it open.

“Thank you … ah… I love you …”

“I love you too, Tae.” Jungkook finally said and tossed the riding crop to the side. Taehyung sighed, exhausted and relieved, grateful for the reprieve. However, he tensed up again once he heard the distinct click of a belt being unbuckled.

“Raise your bum.” came the order and shakily Taehyung obeyed, head still glued to the floor but ass raised high and on display for Jungkook to beat.

“I’m going to give you my belt now.”


“Thank me for each hit.”


“And say who you belong to.”

Once more Taehyung didn’t verbally reply to the last order but nodded almost imperceptibly.

It didn’t take Jungkook as long as before to start the beating, the first lick of the belt drawing a strangled scream from the submissive as it made painful contact with his already red and swollen ass.

“Ah… thank you … I belong to Master Kim.”



“Who else, Tae?!”


Another hit, this one clearly out of anger, it hurt deeply, making Taehyung’s knees buckle.

“Thank you… I belong to Master Kim and you...”


Jungkook kept on hitting him without care for placement or pace. He beat Taehyung up cruely, mercilessly, until his body was shaking and recoiling in agony, tears streaming down his reddened face hidden in the crook of his arm. His replies were screamed out, torn from his lips like fake confessions. It was torture and Taehyung could feel himself slipping away like the streamlets of blood from his body.

Jungkook’s shirt was sticking to his back from the sweat he had built up battering the older. A few droplets of blood had landed on it as well as his face. Jungkook’s knuckles were white around the ends of the belt he was gripping so powerfully, forcing himself to hold back and not actually kill Taehyung. He was drunk on the power, high on the feeling of having someone crave his cruelty, thank him for it, love him for it. Taehyung accepted him and he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Tae… on your knees, let me see your face ...”

It took Taehyung a few moments to collect himself. First he fell to his side and winched in agony, then he wobbled on his shaky limbs, uncoordinated until he finally managed to get on his knees in front of his tortioner and look up at him throw his watery eyes. Mascara had run down his ruby cheeks, tainting them black and Taehyung was gasping his every breath, shaking like a leaf.

“I did this to you...” Jungkook said, bearly audible.

“Yes...” Taehyung heard him nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“I beat you red and bloody...”

“Kookie...” Taehyung whimpered and started crying even harder. Jungkook couldn’t help reaching down, cupping his face, gently dragging his fingers through the messy, tangled hair.

“What is it, baby?”

“More… Kookie, please … I need more ...”

Suddenly Jungkook’s grip on his hair turned harsh, stinging his scalp. The younger slapped him hard and backhanded him too until he collapsed on the floor once more. Taehyung landed on his back and cried out in pain. Nonetheless, his trembling legs parted almost on their own, giving Jungkook a clear view of his raging, leaking hardon. As if on instinct, Jungkook reached back and grabbed the crop without even tearing his gaze from the pitiful form on the floor. The fire like strike landed first on his inner right thigh, then the left. Taehyung screamed hoarsely, squirmed in agony and once more parted his legs for more. Jungkook then hit his thighs again, a little higher. More screams came and he continued until he struck Taehyung’s balls. The older hollered in pain and his hands came down to cover his privates.

“Hands off. You asked for more and that’s what I’m giving you!”

“No, please … wait… wait ...”

“Why would I wait?”

“Kookie, please … I need a minute ...”

“Are you using your safeword?”


That’s all Jungkook needed to her. He mercilessly used the crop to whip Taehyung’s hands away and land two more blows to his balls and dick. The older was hyperventilating and dizzy, his vision blurry not only from the tears but also the pain that would never fade away, just ebb and flow, going from unbearable to scorching to dull but constant.

Jungkook was breathing hard, adrenaline rushing through his body like electricity. He couldn’t think anymore, just let himself fall deeper and deeper into this unfamiliar yet so pleasant headspace. The hand holding the crop rested against his side for a few moments as he considered flogging Taehyung’s cock until there was nothing left of it. He bit his lip at the cruel impulse and settled for placing his foot on it instead, stepping down hard. Taehyung’s hands almost immediately came to grip his ankle but he used the crop to make him let go. Jungkook didn’t move, just stared blankly at the submissive, waiting for him to act first, and act he did, not even a minute in, Taehyung began rutting against the harsh sole of Jungkook’s leather shoe. Each small, tight drag against it hurt and stung but he was drooling with need, the friction both heaven and hell. He was panting so violently, concave stomach rising and falling worryingly fast.

“Are you gonna cum, Tae?”

“Yes… Yes… please … let me ...”

“How are you even enjoying this?”

“I’m a worthless painslut ...”

“Don’t give me rehearsed lines, Tae. That’s what Master Kim likes to hear, I want the truth.” Jungkook didn’t even glance at Seokjin while he said this, a bit worried that he crossed a line. He tried to stay in his bubble, to ignore the fact that the man controlling them both like puppets was seated just a few feet away from them, watching them carefully, loose hold on the invisible strings that kept them bound. Jungkook wanted to take advantage of the small, temporary freedom.

“I love the pain, Guk … ‘M addicted to it …” Taehyung gasped out his reply, hips working harder, cock turning red and purple from the pain and held back pleasure.


“Makes me forget … “

“Forget what?”

“That I’m so horrible … I deserve the pain … I have so much to pay for … I gotta … gotta atone and … ah… this helps quiet the … ah… the demons in my head.”

“The demons are not in your head, Tae.” Jungkook says and with a self-satisfied grin, removes his foot from the other’s cock, making him whrite even more on the floor and cry in desperation at being denied release. “You are the demon, baby.”

Taehyung’s eyes are red and bloodshot, he brings his hands to his hair, pulling at it to keep himself from touching his cock, from cumming without permission. His knees are stuck together painfully, whole body tense and almost ready to snap.

Jungkook settles on the plush carpet next to him and undoes his fly, finally releasing his own aching member. It’s as hard as it has ever been and leaking so much precum Jungkook never even considered he could. He spits in his own hand, obscenely, twice, and lathers his cock with the saliva.

“Get on me, Tae.” he orders.

Taehyung struggles, really does, he’s so dizzy he feels like puking, he grabs onto the base of his dick and almost strangles it, trying to keep himself from cumming or pissing, he doesn’t even know at this point. He’s beaten black and blue, bleeding, hair a mess, strands of it that had fallen sticking to his sweaty shoulders, he can hardly see, vision blurry from the drug and the high. He crawls more than anything onto Jungkook’s solid body which he clings to like a man drowning.


He’s not prepped, no, but he had had two clients in the morning and Jungkook had been kind and merciful enough to slick himself up a little. He guides his ass towards Jungkook’s length but fails to impale himself on it. Jungkook loses patience and shoves himself in his tight heat, making the older scream from the sharp stab like pain. Jungkook was big, not massively so but well above average and the drag of his rock hard, veiny cock inside of him burned. He couldn’t keep his body up, collapsing on the younger and hiding his messed up face in the crook of his neck.


Jungkook smelled nice, he always did and his arms were so big and strong, gripping him and maneuvering him up and down his cock as if Taehyung was nothing more than a fleshlight. Everything burned and stung, he felt as if his skin and flesh were being ripped from his bones and he could bearly breathe properly, it was amazing, he was finally out of his mind, fucked dumb and beaten into complete submission. It felt good, euphoric. He couldn’t string together coherent thoughts anymore, there were no more murders, no more abandoned children, no more rotting bodies, no more shootouts, no more Hoseok … Just Jungkook’s cock carving a space in his body, making his rim stretch and threatened to break, just Jungkook’s silky abs against which his own cock rubbed and felt heavenly, just Jungkook’s heavy breathing in his ear and powerful arms engulfing his broken body.


Jungkook was no better himself, he too was fucked out of his mind, his body possessed by the need to cum and claim this body above him and make Seokjin proud, be a man, be a master, be good, be strong. He finally had power, he was finally in control, he could make things happen his way, somebody finally believed in him, accepted him. It felt so good …

“Enjoying yourself, Jungkookie?”

The boy opened his blurry eyes to look up at Seokjin looming above their whriting forms, sweet, deadly smile on his full lips.

“Yes, hyung ...”

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Being so powerful you can make someone do anything: bleed for you, beg for you, die for you ...”

Jungkook only moaned in response, throwing his head back, speeding up his thrusts and making Taehyung whine in pain and need.

“Who gave you this power, baby? Tell me. Who made you a master of your own fate?”

“You did, Sir … you did ….”

“Who do you belong to, Jungkook?”

“You… I belong to you. I’m Kim… ah…. Kim Jungkook …”

“That’s right, baby.”

“I love you … ah …”

“Stop for a moment, sweetheart, don’t cum just yet.”


Jungkook’s hips immediately still, forcing another broken, forlorn sob from Taehyung’s lips. Seokjin kneels on the carpet beside his boys and places a warm hand on Taehyung’s buttocks, looking at where his rim was stretched to its limit by Jungkook’s forceful fucking.

“What about you, Tae? Can you tell us who you belong to?”

There’s no answer from the submissive for a while, just unintelligible babbles and whimpers. Seokjin smacks his already bleeding buttocks thrice before he asks again.

“You … Master … I belong to you and …. and Jungkookie ...”


“I’m Kim … Kim Taehyung and I belong to you both ...”

“That’s right, doll.”

“Master, please … please!”

“Please what, doll?”

“Please fuck me … I love you … love you both … need you both … split me open … please … wanna be broken, wanna be just a toy for you … don’t wanna … don’t wanna think again ...”

“Shhh….” Jungkook coos at him, holding him impossibly close but at the same time, his cock throbs still sheathed in the tight heat of his ass.

“Has my doll finally realized what’s better for it?” Seokjin questions but at the same time begins undoing his belt.

“Yes … I don’t wanna … don’t wanna be out there anymore … I can’t … “

“Shh, we got you.” Jungkook says in a whisper.”It’s gonna hurt, Tae. It’s gonna hurt so badly.”

“Yeah… want it … please.”

“I’ll never let you go, Tae. Promise.”

Seokjin smiles seeing his boys like this, desperate, out of their minds and so completely loyal. He pulls out his cock, hard and angry red, he’s been like this for a while, weak for his boys it seems, unable to resist their beauty and devotion. He shimmies his way between Jungkook’s legs and behind Taehyung. He spits in his palm much like Jungkook did and fists his erection, then leans in and lets spit fall from between his lips onto Taehyung’s puffy rim in a long, slimy drip. Both boys moan when they feel it and Jungkook can’t help thrusting shallowly into Taehyung.


Soon Seokjin is aligning his cock to the unprepared entrance. He pushes himself in forcefully and Taehyung screams. Jungkook is quick to cover his mouth with one hand and hold him still with the other. Taehyung continues his scream, albeit muffled by the hand over his lips. The pain is unimaginable, agonizing.

His rim tears once Seokjin is balls deep inside of him, he can feel the warm blood trickle over the two cocks inside his ass. His insides are on fire, he’s never felt so full, so thoroughly used. He goes limp in Jungkook’s arms, unable to scream anymore, unable to do anything really other than take it. He focuses on breathing, as shallow as it may be, and not passing out, not just yet. The two men who own him begin moving and it’s almost as if his insides are shifting to make room for them. Another wave of nausea settles in but all he does is whimper and drool and close his eyes.

He can feel the room spinning with him, his body shifting up and down with each tandem thrust, it’s as if he’s riding a horse on a merry-go-round only that he’s impaled on that horse’s huge cock. He’s never felt like a cumrag more than now in his entire life and his body had been used by countless men over the years.

Taehyung can hear Jungkook moaning and he’s so happy to know that he’s the cause of that. Behind him, Seokjin is grunting like a wild thing. It’s so scary but he loves it, loves knowing that these men could kill him any second. Afterall he doesn’t deserve peace, this is exactly where he belongs, in the mouth of the beast, being chewed up and spit out because he’s poisonous.

“God… oh god… “ Jungkook can’t help the words that leave his lips as he throws his head back in pure ecstasy.

“You love this, don’t you Gukkie?” Seokjin questions him, voice deep and raspy and fucked out.

“Yeah … smells like blood ...”

“Look at you, a hungry baby wolf, you’ve torn your toy open …”

“He wanted it ...”

“You wanted it just as badly, admit it.”

“Yeah … wanna … wanna eat him alive … wanna cut him open and give you his heart ...”

“Aww, baby, you’ll get the chance. I have countless I need you to slit open for me. But not this doll here, it’s for our pleasure. To beat up and fuck and dump our cum in.”

“Yeah … wanna cum … please … wanna cum inside Tae with you, fill him up … “

“Then do it, baby, just let go …”

Jungkook fucks up into Taehyung’s limp body with abandon, feeling the almost dry drag of his cock against not only his stretched out insides but alsoSeokjin’s own massive member. It feels so good, it’s everything he’s ever wanted. Power, control, love, a place to belong to, a mission in life. The room reeks of blood and sex and sweat, he’s dizzy with it all. He can feel Seokjin thrusting even harder, jolting Taehyung’s raggedy body on him. Soon enough Jungkook climaxes with a dragged out moan which only gets louder as soon he feels Seokjin’s cock throbbing against his and both their cocks engulfed by the hot, gooey sensation of cum shooting out in thick ropes after ropes.

The sound of heavy breathing almost echoes in the room. they’re all sweaty and messy and dizzy, neither Jungkook nor Seokjin having cum so hard in their lives, it takes them a few minutes to regain their composure and steady themselves. Seokjin pulls out first, quick to tuck himself back into his pants and stand up on slightly unsure legs to go order some water and food from the bar downstairs.

Jungkook basks in the afterglow of his orgasm for a few moments later but eventually he also pulls out, setting Taehyung on the floor again. The dancer winces and whines.

“Kookie …”

Taehyung spreads his legs shakingly and blindly grabs at his own ass cheeks to pull them apart and present to Jungkook his deep red prolapsed ass. Jungkook gasps, he’s never seen something like this before. It’s disgusting but at the same time fascinating. Taehyung’s rim is torn in a few places and still slightly bleeding, his insides are poking out of it in an obscene rosebud glistening with the two men’s milky cum.

“Kookie, please …”

Without thinking Jungkook grabs Taehyung with one hand and with the other he starts massaging the jelly like prolapse. Taehyung begins shaking and jolting uncontrollably.

“Fist it, Kookie, that’s what it wants.” Seokjin’s voice comes from behind them.

Another first for Jungkook, he hesitates only for a moment before bringing his fingers together and pushing his entire hand up to his wrist into Taehyung. Taheyung has to take it, it’s his obligation, so Jungkook doesn’t concern himself with the other’s wellbeing any further. He begins pushing in and out, the sensation around his hand like that of dipping it in hot jello. Taehyung is completely loose and broken. Jungkook goes deeper once he notices just how much the other was drooling and twitching. He manages to get his entire arm in, up to his elbow. Effectively turning Taehyung into a living meat puppet. With each thrust he can see the dancer’ss belly dissent and take on the shape of his arm. He does this repeatedely and faster until Taehyung’s entire body seizes up and cum starts drooling from his flaccid cock. It doesn’t stop coming out even after Jungkook pulls his arm out, the cum pooling in the hallow dip of Taehyung’s stomach but in a few moments the milky cum is replaced by a steady stream of clear fluid. Jungkook laughs at the pathetic display and notices how his ass prolapsed even more after the fisting, the concerning rosebud the size of a hand.

Taehyung whimpers, barely, entire body spasming uncontrollably. He turns to the side and after a violent retch he pukes out the entire watery content of his stomach. Jungkook laughs even harder.

“Ah, Tae, you make me so happy! I wanna carve my name in you too!”

Taehyung doesn’t get to answer as he passes out almost immediately after puking but even if he hadn’t, he would have told Jungkook that yes, he’d love that. He loves belonging to the Kims.




Yoongi hates the Kims. Not individually, he’s actually become good friends with Namjoon over the years and as for Seokjin, well, he didn’t actually know the man outside of Namjoon’s drunken stories about him and how utterly amazing he was. But Yoongi hated the Kims, hated the Mob and all it represented, hated what the two were doing for the sake of the name.

He needed to go to the bathroom, he had downed an entire bottle of whiskey and he needed to relieve himself but he was feeling too dizzy to get up. So he just stood there, in the darkness of his cold apartment, nursing the last glass of strong liquor and hoping to somehow find it in him not to care.

He hadn’t heard Hoseok’s name in years. He was grateful for it, actually, he didn’t need the constant reminder of his betrayal. Yet here it was, on the news, almost on a loop, the story of the year. Madman shoots up police department, gravely injures special agent Jung Hoseok. Gravely injures Jung Hoseok. Injures Hoseok.

What does injure even mean? He had injured Hoseok as well. Was this worse than what he had done? And how was that relevant? Why was Hoseok even in the position of getting hurt? Hadn’t he become a beat cop after the … the incident?

His phone is ringing, Yoongi realizes with a delay. He blindly reaches for it, following the sound of the buzzing and somehow manages to fish it off of the coffee table without dropping it. He doesn’t look at the screen, answers without even saying hello.

“Myeah ...”

“Are you in hiding?”

That voice… at this hour?

“Jimin, what are you doing? Isn’t Namjoon home yet? If he catches you ...”

“Did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Set a guy loose on the police department.”

“What? No, of course not! Why would I? Where are you even getting this idea from?”

“You haven’t come by all day. I just thought … since you are a cop...”

“I’m not a cop. Haven’t been one for years.”

“Then who’s been toying with the Kims? Who’s gotten them on their toes like this?”

“You’re talking as if we’re not one of the Kims...”

“We aren’t. You’re Min Yoongi. And I’m … I’m Jimin.”

“And one of the two most powerful men in Seoul doesn’t trust us anymore. Is that where you were going with this?”

“They shot your former partner. Come talk to Namjoon.”

“About what? About how happy this whole affair makes me?”

“About anything that doesn’t give away the fact that you’ve probably been drinking yourself into numbness. We’re on thin ice.”


“Why did you join the Mob, Yoongi?”

Silence. Yoongi empties his glass and holds on to it tightly, knuckles white, struggling to hold back the words.

“Don’t leave me here, alone.” Jimin’s voice comes small, frightened. Yoongi nods even though he knows the other can’t see him.

“I won’t. Give me an hour, I’ll come.”

“Thank you.” A sigh of relief.

“Anything for you, Jimin.”

No reply and then the obnoxious sound of a deadline.

“For you ...” Yoongi says eventually to noone.

Chapter Text

The first thing that Taehyung saw when he opened his eyes was pink. Soft, baby pinks all around, silky and shiny here and there, dusty and velvety in other parts. He closed his eyes and groaned, pained reverberating from all over his body. He felt something shift next to him, the cushiony surface he was laying on dipping with the weight moving. He realized he was on a bed and that there was someone next to him.

“Tae ...”

“Mhm.. Guk ...”

“Can you lift your head? I got some painkillers.”

“Just use a pillow and snuff me ...”

“Tae, please ...”

Taehyung managed to pry his eyes open once more. He looked around, confused. Had he been teleported to Barbie’s house? Was he having a fever dream?

“The fuck am I?”

“Seokjin’s house. Thought you’ve been here before.”

“Only his penthouse … what the fuck…”

“Yeah, that was my first impression too.”

Jungkook helped Taehyung rise a little and placed two advils on his tongue, then dutifully tipped a glass of water, helping him drink it all up. Taehyung was parched and could have sworn water never tasted so good. After he drank he fell back onto the billowy pillows.

“A doctor’s gonna come later and have a look at you.”


“I’ll stay with you til he comes.”

“Is it just us in the dollhouse?” Taehyung asks and covers his eyes with his arms, trying to will his oncoming headache away.

“Yeah… He’s out with some business.” Jungkook replies and settles on the pillows as well, drawing the silk covers over his bare shoulders.

“I thought he couldn’t be any more disturbing ...”

“I hoped you’d know why his house is like this.”

“I don’t but I have a hunch.”

“It’s cause of Namjoon, isn’t it?”

“Fuck do you know about Namjoon?” Taehyung huffs, stretches his arms and eyes him with a raised brow.

“I know he used to be with Seokjin and then he betrayed him.”

“He didn’t just betray him. Namjoon’s dad tried to rape Seokjin’s mom so Seokjin’s dad had both of Namjoon’s parents executed then Namjoon, as revenge, killed Seokjin’s mom and was about to do the same with his dad when Seokjin happened upon the scene and stopped him. Namjoon got away but he did get to injure Seokjin’s dad pretty badly.”

“Yikes. Wait, so Seokjin’s dad’s still alive?!”

“Yeah, he hid him somewhere in the countryside on a private property with round the clock medical care, the man’s barely a husk of the former gangster that terrorized the country back in the 70s. He’s also a constant reminder to Seokjin of why he hates Namjoon so bitterly. The man apparently tore his family to shreds.”


“There’s stories otherwise … people in the lower Kim clan say that Namjoon’s dad and Seokjin’s mom had a consensual affair and Seokjin’s dad killed the Bangs out of blind rage then made Namjoon kill his wife as a sign of loyalty to him and because he didn’t have the guts to do it himself. He didn’t plan on Seokjin seeing the whole thing and lied about Namjoon doing it out of revenge.”

“Either way, Namjoon’s not in his life now, we are.”

Taehyung can’t help his laughter.

“He doesn’t love us, Jungkook.”

“Yes, he does. He even let me fuck him, right here on this bed.”

“Like hell he did!”

“He did! He trusts me! And he trusts you!”

Now both boys were leaning on their elbows, facing each other with fire in their eyes.

“You gotta snap out of it, Kookie. You’re getting some pretty dangerous ideas.”

“You know where we’d be without him, Tae. He owns us through and through. We are still breathing because he allows it, we have the power that we do because he gave it to us. He made us, Tae. You know this!”

“That doesn’t mean he loves us! Or that we should love him! The things that we say and do when we’re high out of our minds or drunk or scared to death… they don’t mean shit in the cold light of day.”

“Look, I’ve got a girlfriend ...”

Taehyung collapses laughing right after the words leave Jungkook’s lips and the younger frowns and pouts.

“Shut up, I do! Sorta ...”

“Is she from your class?” Taehyung continues laughing.

“She’s older than me, ok?”

“She’s got a mommy kink then.”

“Would you shut up and listen? I have her, I have some feelings for her, ok? She makes me feel nice and soft and stuff … But that doesn’t even compare with what Seokjin gives me. I could live without her but I couldn’t without him.”
“You’re not even gay, Kookie.”

“I know but it doesn’t matter! Seokjin is more than just a man and you know that. Do you think anyone else can silence the voices in your head? Do you think anyone else could break you down and put you back together as he does?”

“Not anymore ...” Taehyung mumbles and lays back down, looking up at Jungkook, waiting for him to finish his point.

“In the end, he is our maker, he is everything we have. And he trusts us, he lets us get close. I’m not gonna allow anything to affect that. Anything nor anyone...”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I need you in this with me. To be with me what Kim Namjoon couldn’t. Protect him and love him like others only claim that they do.”

“Jungkook … what did you do?”

Taheyung ignores the pain in his body and sits upright, trying to meet the other’s eyes. Jungkook avoids his gaze for a few moments but eventually sighs and faces him.

“I told Hyojong to prove himself. If he truly thinks he is worthy.”

“You tricked that messed up son of a bitch to shoot up the police joint.”

“Yeah. Wanted to kill two birds with one stone, managed only one tho.”

“Does Seokjin know?”

“No. He doesn’t have to. But you understand, right, Tae? It can only be us. We’re the only Kims, it’s life or death for us. I want to live, don’t you?”

“I want to be free...” Taehyung admits, bitterly.

“It’s far too late for that.”




There’s so much white. Hoseok can hardly stand it anymore. Yeah, he gets it, it’s a hospital, it’s supposed to be white but it reminds him so much of death for some reason.

Today is not a terrible day. The painkillers are doing their job, there’s relative silence around him, excluding the occasional and unavoidable sound of the nurses shuffling up and down the hallways just outside his door. they’ve taken his IV out and he managed to take a piss without getting nauseous. His phone was still dead and nobody had a charger to lend him. Yoonji didn’t come to visit yet but surely she would, the legal things should have been taken care of by now …

Just as he was thinking about it a knock was heard on the door. Hoseok smiles in relief, there she was.

“Come in! Sheesh, it took you days ...”

“Hello, son.”

Hoseok froze when he heard that voice. He knew it so well even if he hadn’t heard it in years, it rung clear and familiar in his ears like the sound of a siren. He closed his eyes briefly and exhaled slowly before turning his head to face the man that was making his way towards his bed.

“Hello, father. Why are you here?”

“My son gets shot and I’m not supposed to visit him?”

“You didn’t come the first time I got shot so I figured it wasn’t that big of a deal to warrant your presence.”

“I see no amount of suffering will ever teach you humility.”

Despite Hoseok’s obvious disdain his father drags the metal chair next to the bed and seats himself right beside his son.

“How are you feeling?”

“Worse now, that’s for sure. Why are you here?”

“I came to let you know that when you’ll be discharged I’m ready to help you move back home.”

Hoseok actually starts laughing at that.

“Why on earth would I do that?”

“What else are you going to do?”

“Umm, I have a case I’m working on?!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hoseok, you’re in no shape to go back to police work.”

“Oh really? And what else would you have me do?”

“There’s plenty of office work within the military, I can pull some strings.”

“I’m sure you can but there’s a reason why I chose the Academy and not the military.”

“It was Yoongi’s father influence, that good for nothing ...”

“Your former buddy had nothing to do with it, your abusive ass made me wanna get as far away from your influence as possible. Yet somehow here you are, like a vulture circling a dying animal.”

“Quit being so dramatic, Hoseok, you sound just like your mother.”

“I’m surprised you still remember how she sounded, seeing as how she also wanted nothing to do with you once she got away.”

“Hoseok, I’m your father, I will not tolerate you speaking to me like this. I came here out of kindness, I came to help.”

“I don’t need help, especially from you. You came here because you knew you could corner me here.”


“I have people in my life now that I care for, people whose visits I want, whose help I’d accept. And none of those people are you, dad. So please, spare us both the awkward anger and just leave.”

They just stare each other down for a few tense moments and then mr. Jung reaches into his coat’s inner pocket to pull out a silver flask. Hoseok recognizes it immediately and grimaces in disgust as the strong smell of liquor hits his nose. His father takes two swings from the flask before putting it back into the pocket and sighing in exasperation.

“There’s going to be an investigation, they need to know why you were the target of the shooting. Rumors are going around that you have ties with the Mob and that this had been a direct hit on you for perhaps disobeying orders. People know how close you were to Yoongi and some rightfully suspect you of being in cahoots with him, being a dirty cop and selling him information for the Kim clan. I was asked to come and collect you silently, so that you could leave this mess behind before it gets out of hand.”

“Who told you to do that?! Whose orders are you following?!”

“It doesn’t matter, Hoseok, the point is ...”

“Who bought you, you cheap son of a bitch?!” Hoseok was seething with anger, he tried getting up out of bed despite the pain, grabbed hold of his father’s shirt and almost fell over him.

“How dare you even show your face around me?! Calling me a dirty cop, threatening me! Who are you working for, you miserable fuck?!”

“Hoseok, get off of me!”

It was at that moment that the screaming alerted the nurses that something was happening and they stormed the room and pried the two men off of each other with worried please to calm down. Two managed to drag Mr Jung out while another forced an exhausted and panicked Hoseok to lay back down on the bed.

“That fucking son of a bitch …”

“Mister Jung, please ...”

“I need to make a phone call, please. It’s urgent.”




Yoonji eventually gave in since nobody could bring her spare clothes and accepted the washed out khaki prison uniform. She was still only just in holding, there was no need to force her out of her civilian clothes but she knew well the psychology of the those that rejoiced at her imprisonment, that gleed at the thought of her being put away for a long time. She sighed and stared down at her slacks that were two sizes too big and she had to tie around her waist so tightly that she looked like a sack of potatoes. Good thing nobody was going to pay her a visit although she’s been hoping for a phone call from Hoseok for a while now. She was worried sick and no news was coming in lately.

As she laid there on the hard bench she briefly closed her eyes, just listening to the bustle around her, thinking how she’s wasting time, how she’s got so much work to do.

“Min, visitor.”

Her eyes instantly snapped open. She quickly moved to stand up but just as quickly dropped back to the edge of the bench when she saw the man entering her cell, all smiles and danger.

“Hello, Yoonji-yah, long time no see!”

“What the fuck are you doing here?!”

Seokjin pouted at the cold welcome but didn’t allow that to deter him. He confidently strode up close to Yoonji and grinned when he saw the girl flinch and pull away towards the end of the bench. He sat himself down right beside her, leaning in close enough that she could smell his sweet fragrance. Yoonji froze.

“Ah, my doe-eyed Yoonji, you’ve really gotten yourself in trouble this time.”

“Please leave.”

“I’m here to help you, sweetheart.”

“What do you want?”

“Just a little favor. Actually, it’s more like a deal. I get you out of this predicament, charges dropped completely, you keep your badge and your pride and all that and in return all you have to do is whisper a name in my ear.”

“A name...”

“Aha. The name of the person that’s been feeding you information.”

Yoonji gasps and tries to pull herself even farther away from Seokjin, until her back hits the cold wall. The man only continues to smile sweetly as he shifts with her, keeps her cornered, slips his large, warm hand on her small thigh and the girl trembles. Why does this man scare her so much?

He wants to hear Yoongi’s name from her lips. He wants to know for sure who the rat is. She can’t give him that, can’t give her brother up. However, she’s trapped, there is no way out of her dire situation, no way other than this. What would Hoseok say if he could see her now, cowering in front of the enemy, actually considering his proposal?

“Don’t think so much about it, Yoonji-yah. It’s quite a simple decision: the name or life in prison. What are you even thinking about?”

“We … we don’t know… the name of the person ...” she tries with a small voice, an idea beginning to form in her head. “Um … all we know is that they’re with Kim Namjoon …”

“Oh? From Namjoon’s side? Somebody from Namjoon’s side that isn’t your brother?” Seokjin giggles but it’s malicious. Yoonji trembles when he sees the cold glint in the man’s eyes, he’s out for blood despite his forced mask of happiness.

“Somebody that’s close to him … a blonde ...”

“Oh, I see.”

There it was, that knife life toothy grin that meant he had found his prey.

“The name that you don’t know is Jimin.” Seokjin informs her as he gives her thigh a squeeze before standing up and adjusting his suit jacket.

Jimin. Yoonji had just thrown her under the bus to save her brother and herself. She wishes she didn’t know the name.

“Thank you so much, Yoonji. I think I finally found a Min I can like. I’ll see that you’ll be released by tomorrow. See you around!”

Yoonji doesn’t reply, she just carefully watches him leave and doesn’t move a muscle until she can’t hear his fading steps anymore. Then she releases the breath she didn’t realize she was holding and slumps back on the bench, her head falling on her hands. What had she just done? Yoonji opens her eyes and expects to see blood on her hands but the red isn’t there, she seems as clean as ever but has never felt so dirty in her life. So this is how it felt to shake hands with the devil.




The counter was shining, sparkly clean yet Jimin continued to scrub it mindlessly. He had a bad feeling coiled in his guts ever since he had woken up this morning. He busied himself with housework and tiptoed around Namjoon. The man had been avoiding him ever since his fit that one drunken night. Jimin was worried sick, Namjoon had never been cruel to him like that before, something was surely up. His common sense told him it was the stress from their situation, the uncertainty that someone within the clan was threatening them, but his gut told him something else, his instinct leaned towards the idea that Namjoon knew that his devotion was dwindling.

Jimin couldn’t precisely say when it started happening, when he began shifting from the obedient doll to this brat that went behind his owner’s back just to get off with the lieutenant. Jimin could hardly recognize himself these days even though he went through the same routine with mechanical precision, said the right words always like he’s always done, smiled just as prettily and vanished when he had to just like before. Yet he was so different. He began craving more, craving something different. He had been content with adoring Namjoon for years, never minded the one sided affection, was never bothered by the fact that he wasn’t what the man longed after. But now … he was yearning to be loved back.

He didn’t voice his need, not in precise words. He even lied to Taehyung about it, giggled like always over his only friend’s concerns and when Yoongi tried to question him as well he dismissed him coldly.

Jimin’s fingers were red from all the scrubbing so he finally stopped. He was wearing a huge cashmere sweater with his pajama shorts today so his top was engulfed in heat while his toes were ice cold. What was he thinking when he dressed this morning? He obviously blindly reached into his closet, didn’t even bother to take half of his sleep clothes off. He was slipping.

From the other room he could faintly hear Namjoon talking on the phone. He had locked the door behind him, something he never does. Jimin sighed and was about to start making fresh coffee when he heard the door.

Soon enough Yoongi showed up, files in his hands as always, bluetooth headset on his ear, the man was always running around, always working.

“Yoongi.” he called out to him and measured two more spoonfuls of coffee.

“Hey, Minnie. Where’s boss?”

“Locked himself next door. Important phone call.”

“That’s weird. Are you ok?”

Jimin didn’t respond, instead reached under the counter to find two large mugs. He never had coffee, wasn’t allowed, but always enjoyed the smell of it.

“Aren’t your feet cold?” Yoongi tries again.

Jimin sighs. His gut clenches for no good reason. Yoongi is always so attentive with him.

“I’ll go put on some socks. Watch the coffee machine for me?”


Yoongi watches him shuffle towards the bedroom and bites his lip, an anxious gesture. Jimin worried him lately, he was out of it most of the time, ever since that incident.

He places the files on the counter and takes his headset off, rubbing his ear a little, the darn thing had been on too tightly. He makes for the next room, wanting to let Namjoon know that he was here when the man himself came storming out, door banging against the wall so hard the plaster fell off.

“Boss, are you …”

Yoongi stops mid-question when he sees that Namjoon has a gun in his hand.

“Where is he, Yoons? Where is that motherfucking snake?!”

Yoongi squares up in front of him, hands visible, trying to calm his boss down. Namjoon was seething, he had never seen him so angry before, red in the face with rage.

“Boss, calm down. Who are you talkin’ ‘bout...”

“Jimin! Come here, you little bitch! The game’s up!”

Namjoon ignores Yoongi completely as he tries to push past him but his lieutenant wouldn’t allow it, blocking Namjoon’s path and trying to take the gun away from him.

“Get out of my way, Yoongi, before I put a bullet in you too! If I find out you were in on it the whole time, I swear to god...”

“I don’t know what you’re on about but Jimin didn’t do anything! Put the damn gun down! You’re not thinking straight!”

“I said out of my way!”

Namjoon hits Yoongi right across his left cheek with the butt of the gun and the shock of the pain lasts only a moment before Yoongi punches him back. The two immediately begin fighting, throwing punches and kicks almost blindly. They only get a few more in before Yoongi, obviously more experienced, manages to knee the gun out of Namjoon’s hand. However his boss is taller and bigger than him and the rage driving him is strong enough to keep him going even if disarmed. They draw blood, from Yoongi split lip and from Namjoon’s broken nose, it drips down their faces as they snarl at each other like wild things. They attack each other with no clear reason other than Namjoon’s need to get to Jimin to tear him to shreds and Yoongi’s desperation in preventing that from happening.

It’s a blur of hits and grunts, the struggle has them knocking down furniture, Namjoon reaching for a vase and smashing it across Yoongi’s head, momentarily getting the upper hand before the shorter trips him and they both come crashing down on the sofa, Yoongi on top, blindly punching down while Namjoon uses both his hands to try and choke Yoongi to death.

“Have… ah! Have you gone … mad?!” Yoongi manages to blurt out, his face going dark red from the need for air.

“He sold us to the cops! I trusted him with my life and he sold us out...” Namjoon says, gritting his teeth, looking up at his right hand man through only one eye, the other shut and swollen from the blows.

“Jimin … would never… who… Who the fuck… told you...”

“The only man I could ever trust!”

“Seokjin’s a liar ...”

“You’re a liar … You’ve been workin’ with him … I’ve seen how you look at him … how you always protect him … You’ve always been a snake … “

“I won’t let you … hurt him ...”

“Then I’ll kill you both!”

Namjoon grips Yoongi’s throat with all his strength, hell bent on snapping it. Yoongi gives up trying to punch Namjoon off of him and his hands fly to those that are choking him, scratching desperately, trying to loosen the grip.

“Stop!! Let him go!! Please !!”

Namjoon turns his head enough to spot Jimin a few feet away from them, his discarded gun in the blond’s shaking hands, aimed precariously at him.

“Namjoon, please!” Jimin screams, crying almost hysterically. “ Don’t make me shoot! Please!”

The man grunts, anger and disgust marring his face. He all but shoves Yoongi off of him, the later falling to the floor, choking and desperately gulping air.

“You fucking bitch! I took you off the streets, saved your miserable life, gave you everything and this is how you repay me?! Selling me out to the cops, seducing my lieutenant!”

“I didn’t … I didn’t … I swear...” Jimin cries, he can hardly see where he is still aiming the gun, his entire body shaking in fear.

“Nobody ...” Yoongi hardly rasps. “Nobody here … betrayed you, Namjoon …”

“Get out! Get out of my sight before I have you both hunted down! Leave! “

“No!!” Jimin screams, voice breaking.

Yoongi, however, is quick to get back up on his feet. His balance is off but the adrenaline helps, he needs to get out, needs to get Jimin out. He takes the gun from his shaking hands and takes one last look at Namjoon. He’s never seen him like that before, covered in blood, ready to kill, he’s never seen pure hatred in his eyes before. He grabs Jimin and all but drags him out, the younger sobbing uncontrollably.

“Whatever you think, it wasn’t us, Namjoon. Seokjin’s lying to you.”

“Seokjin’s the only one that would never lie to me.”

“This is a mistake. You’re letting love blind you.”

“So are you.”

Yoongi says nothing, just slams the door behind him, picks up a panicked Jimin and flees like a man running from a collapsing kingdom.

Chapter Text

The sobs rung in his ears throughout the evening and died down to pitiful whimpers and sniffles during the night. Yoongi tried at first to comfort him, rub his back, hold him close, shush him and rock him like a child but it did nothing to calm Jimin down as his tiny body continued to heave and tremble in anguish and agony.


Eventually, he had let him crawl under the covers and shut the world out, hoping that he’ll exhaust himself to sleep soon.

Yoongi couldn’t even think of resting. Instead, he spent the dreadful night frozen in place on a chair, bottle of something strong on the table in front of him, frozen peas bag to his cheek, lost in his ever muddier thoughts.


His heart ached every time his ears would pick up another cry from his bedroom, what had he done? He shouldn’t have fought Namjoon, he should have tried to explain things better, should’ve reasoned with him. He had ruined Jimin’s life. He empties two bottles by sunrise and his treacherous body refuses to pass out and grant him at least an hour of relief.

Come early morning Yoongi is drinking water straight from the tap, hair disheveled, yesterday’s clothes wrinkled and sweat in, his temples are throbbing with the violence of his headache and a mixture of hangover and still drunkness.


“Yoonie ...”

The small voice cracks even on the short syllable. Yoongi turns to see Jimin, his old blanket draped over his tiny shoulders, clutched tightly to his chest, his eyes as red as his cheeks and he’s barefoot and he looks as if his entire world had come crashing down. Because it probably did.

“Minnie ...”

“I… need a hug.”


Yoongi rushes to him and picks him up easily, hugging him closely, almost crushingly so. Jimin clings to him, lets out only a few tiny gasps when Yoongi gets a bit too rough but otherwise melts into the embrace. They stay like that for a short while, until Yoongi can feel his arms growing tired and he curses himself inwardly for it, walking them to the sofa and sitting down, Jimin still stuck to him like a koala. Why can’t he hold him longer? Why is he always so damn weak?


“I’m sorry, Minnie … I’m so fucking sorry ...” he whispers into the other’s blond locks.


“I loved him so much ...” Jimin says and his voice comes from somewhere far away. “ I loved him for years … but he never … he never loved me … he … he only loves ...” he stops speaking when the tears come, stinging his eyes painfully. He mewls like a wounded animal and Yoongi feels his shirt getting wet.


But doesn’t comment on it, how could he? He doesn’t understand what relationship Jimin had with Namjoon. For the longest time, he had thought that it was purely sexual and that gave him hope to maybe one day win his heart over but he realized eventually that for Jimin at least it was far more than that. To Jimin, Namjoon had been his entire world, his reason for existing. And it had been tragic to watch the younger’s never-ending yearning for someone that had never for a second stopped loving another. Jimin never had a chance.

“Yoonie ...”






The first time Hoseok takes off the bandages to look at the damage it’s in the murky first light of day in the not so clean small mirror of his hospital room. He inhales sharply when his eyes land on his shoulder and the deep, deep scar there. He tries to not get nauseous, not to cry, not to despair. He guessed right, they had to remove part of the muscle, you can’t just get shot twice in the same spot and expect to get away scot-free. He touches the wounded area gingerly, it’s still sore, still aches from deep within him but it’s a closed wound, the stitches are dissolvable, he has his prescribed medication, he’ll be fine.


Hoseok decides not to dwindle on this anymore. It’s been done, no use in overthinking it, what matters now is moving forward. He’ll learn to shoot with his other hand, he’ll get back in shape, he’ll ignore the pain, he’ll fucking take down the Mob.


He carefully gets dressed and decides that he can’t go back to his house to retrieve some things, it would be too risky so he just stuffs his wallet, phone, and keys into his pockets, abandoning his badge on the hospital bed. He’ll buy what he needs on the way.


“Sir, why are you dressed?” the nurse is startled as she walks in.


“I would like to sign the discharge papers now, please.”




Yoongi spent a solid hour putting breakfast together. Never in his life had he put such an effort into making pancakes be as fluffy as possible and sunny side up eggs look impeccable. Jimin didn’t say what he wanted to eat so he did it all, from toast to waffles to eggs to salad. At the end of that long hour, Yoongi made a mess of his kitchen but he was proud to have filled the table with delicious looking food.

Jimin had come out of the shower by then and he was wearing some of Yoongi’s clothes that were just a little baggy on him, loose around the shoulders and bunched up around his ankles. The older couldn’t help but notice how defeated and exhausted the other looked as he sat on the chair, knees to his chest, looking at the huge breakfast with confusion in his eyes.

“I might have overdone it … Just eat what you like.”

“I… I don’t know… I’m not … I was never allowed to have sweets or fried things for breakfast ...”


“But I guess that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Jimin reached for the pancakes first which he drowned in butter and honey before digging in. He did seem famished, finishing the whole plate in a matter of minutes before going on and attacking the eggs and the toast.

“It’s delicious.” he commented, mouth full, cheeks puffy like a hamster’s from all the food. Yoongi smiled at long last.

“Slow down, don’t want you getting a tummy ache.”

“Don’t care.” the blond rebuffs and chasses the toast with a large glass of orange juice. “I’ve never had breakfast like this before!” he chokes a little and Yoongi pats his back, reminding him again to slow down.

“I’m fine. Do you think I can have some coffee too?”

“I didn’t know you drank coffee.”

“I don’t. But I wanna. There’s nobody to care if I do or don’t anymore.”

There was bitterness in that statement and Yoongi didn’t fail to catch it. He got up and readied the coffee machine while Jimin remained seated, too full to get up.

Through trial and error, after a few careful sips the younger discovered that he could only tolerate coffee if it had plenty of milk and sugar in it. Yoongi chuckled at that and finally took a seat, his own steaming mug of black, plain coffee in front of him.

“What’s the plan now?” Jimin asks, point blank.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, am I arrested? Do I have to trade information for immunity? How does this work?”

“Jimin, for the last time, I’m not a cop.”

“Only you have enough information on Namjoon to take him down.”

“So do you, Jimin!”

“You think I would’ve betrayed him?!”

“You think I would’ve?!”

Jimin suddenly gets up, his whole body trembling with anger, eyes ready to spill.

“Quit lying to me, Yoongi! You ruined my life, least you could do is be honest!”


He doesn’t wait for a reply, storming out of the room to lock himself up in the bedroom, door banging closed after him. Yoongi groans in frustration. The crying starts once more, just as loud and sorrowful as the night before. He starts doing the dishes, focusing on the sound of the running water and the clinking of plates but by now he can hear the sobs in his mind just as clearly as in real life. Yoongi feels gutted and he’s never hated himself like this before.




Hoseok looks in his shopping cart and wonders if he’s got everything. Three simple t-shirts, a sweater,a pair of jeans, underwear, socks, basic toiletries, a small towel … they all fit in the duffel bag he'd bought earlier. That should be all.

He pays in cash and he never takes off his mouth mask and fake prescription glasses.

The weather’s cloudy for a change and he ponders if he should bother buying an umbrella or rather one of those compact raincoats.

He feels strange. He’s been alone for such a long time, he should be used to making his own decisions and listening to his own thoughts. Yet he misses people, he misses Yoonji and the rest of the team, he misses Taehyung … He’ll just have to get used to it, it’s better this way.

At the nearest shop, he buys a disposable phone card with a new number. He sighs deeply but his resolve doesn’t falter.




Yoongi looks around his small apartment and for the first time he finds it inadequate. Sure, he made huge sums of money as Namjoon’s liutenant but he never enjoyed it, never splurged, never felt the need to live up to the gangster life. He drove a normal, inconspicuous car, he had two phones but neither were outrageously priced. It never stood well with him, the idea of spending blood money.

But now he can’t help thinking about it in context, with Jimin as his responsibility. Jimin, that was used to diamonds and furs and silk, Jimin that had spent his years between the luxurious penthouse and several huge villas in the countryside, by the beach, abroad … Jimin that got driven around in custom made limousines, Jimin that had never wanted for nothing. How could he care for him properly?

He already looked crushed and not just because of his endless crying. Jimin simply wasn’t made to laze around on his grey sofa in scratchy, worn out pajamas, watching shit 40 inch TV without premium subscription to anything.

Yoongi was not Namjoon, obviously. He was neither tall nor imposing, he lacked the wits and the charms, he wasn’t one of the most feared and yet respected men on the continent. He had nothing to offer Jimin other than his desperate, aching love.

And his protection. He needed to protect Jimin.


Yoongi wasn’t sure if Namjoon would send assassins or put a price on his head and let whoever take care of it, there were many options, including even hunting them down in person, seeing how this was a rather personal affair. He would hesitate for a second before killing him but he wouldn’t hesitate in killing Jimin. He knew how deeply Namjoon had trusted Jimin and also how little he actually loved him. This betrayal he could not forgive.

Betrayal …


Yoongi did wonder, briefly yet still, if Jimin did actually sell Namjoon out. Afterall, they were the only two with enough knowledge to actually do any serious damage. Jin was the whistleblower if he lied then why name Jimin as the rat and not him? Why eliminate Jimin and not him, Namjoon’s second in command? Perhaps Jin did know something he didn’t. But if Jimin was truly the rat then why was he so devasted? Maybe he was forced to? Tricked? Something was not adding up.


Yoongi slips into his bedroom and carefully walks around. Jimin was finally asleep again, burried under the covers, so he tries to be quick and change into some fresh clothes. He catches a glimpse of himself in his small vanity mirror and the bruise on his face has only grown bigger and uglier. He deserved it, he figures, not fully sure why, but convinced of it nonetheless. He finishes putting on socks and he’s about to walk out when he hears the other’s muffled, raspy voice.

“Do you ever wear anything other than black?”

“Grey but only on special occasions.” he tries to joke.

Jimin smiles a miniature smile and shuffles from under the covers. Yoongi gingerly sits on the edge of the bed, not too close to him.

“I’m sorry I screamed at you ...”

“It’s alright.”

“It’s not, it’s not fair of me to be accusing you when I’m just as suspicious ...”

“Did you do it, Jimin?”

“If I told you I didn’t would you believe me?”

“Not entirely, no.”

“I feel the same way about you. I believe Jin didn’t think you would be so dumb to betray Namjoon but I would be … So he named me.”

“I think Jin is too smart to have named you without a reason.”

“So what are we gonna do? Tiptoe around each other? Or are you gonna send me away?”

“I would never abandon you, Jimin. To be perfectly honest, I don’t care if you ratted on Namjoon or not. I just want you safe and happy.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything to that, just draws his knees to his chest like he tends to do whenever he feels overwhelmed and rests his chin on one of his bent knees. Tears run down his reddened, stingy cheeks and he lets them, has given up stopping them hours ago. Yoongi’s heart clenches painfully, feels as if it’s caught in a bear trap.

“I need to head out for a few hours. I have this PO box near the train station, I keep a spare gun and some money there plus the keys to an apartment Namjoon doesn’t know about. We need to get out of here as soon as possible, we don’t know when he’ll be coming for us.”

“You have all that and yet I’m the suspicious one...”

“I’m just paranoid. It’s not because ...”

“It’s fine, honestly, I don’t care if you’re the rat either. It’s too late now anyway. We can only move forward from here.”

“Think you can pack a few things for the both of us until I get back?”


“Alright. Thank you.”

Yoongi moves to get up and Jimin suddenly reaches for him, the brunet freezing in place. Jimin leans in quickly and plants a kiss on his cheek, stunning him.

“Take care out there, ok?”

“Um.. yeah. Ok.”

Yoongi hurries to leave before Jimin notices the embarrassing heat that overtook his face. Just before exiting the room he hears the blond once more.

“You never should’ve fallen in love with me.”

“Who said I did?”

“Your eyes.”

Yoongi shuts the door behind him louder than he intended to.




Hoseok bought himself a shitty cup of coffee from the coffee machine and he’s now people watching to kill some time. The train station is not particularly crowded today so it’s not very entertaining but it’ll do. His train won’t be here for a long while still.

So far he’s suppressed the urge to call Taehyung about twenty times. He distracts himself with other thoughts for instance thoughts about his return, about freeing Taehyung from his job at the Sugarglider, getting him as far away as possible from all things Kim Seokjin related, helping him with his addiction, learning how to cook so that he can help Taehyung gain a few pounds, taking him out on proper dates and making him happy … He has so many things to look forward to, so much to live for, so many reasons to take down the Mob. He’ll save Yoongi to, he’ll have the Min siblings reunite, how happy they’ll be. He’ll keep them safe from then on. Hyolin, Hyejin, and Jessi will finally be able to throw all those bastards in prison and help all those innocent victims. So much good will come out of this but he needs to stay focused, needs to be strong like he was never able to be before.


A bunch of highschoolers bought juice boxes from the vending machine and are laughing loudly, patting each other’s backs. They’re skipping school for sure at this hour. Hoseok smiles, he used to do that a lot as well back in high school. He’d get into so much trouble but he never regretted it. Sometimes Yoongi would join him, rarely though, his father was very strict with him as well and Yoongi wasn’t the type to loudly rebel. They would go for walks by the river and Hoseok remembers teaching him how to smoke. He also remembers how Yoongi used to look at him, always for a few moments too long, always smiling just a little bit sadly, like there were words inside of him that were poisoning him the more they stood hidden. Hoseok never gave Yoongi the chance to say those words aloud. He himself had never said them to anyone.


But he wanted to, now he wanted to because he felt them and he finally understands how much the unsaid confession must have hurt Yoongi all those years back. He’ll apologize, he swears he will.

His coffee is gone and he hardly remembers drinking it. Hoseok sighs and checks the time then decides to grab another.




Yoongi tried to be as casual as possible about stuffing his sports bag with all the contents of the PO box. The gun was in a box that was wrapped up to look like a parcel and the money was also split into three manila envelopes. The key needed no concealing. He was paranoid though, as he admitted, so he bought some post stamps and even inquired about shipping taxes for small parcels. You know, like any person with a PO box would do because they get regular mail and such.

The entire experience went smoothly. He hadn’t been followed, he had checked time and time again and besides, the train station was too public of a place for an attack so he was as safe as he could be.

Yoongi was exhausted though and the thought of returning home to a packing, depressed Jimin whom he had to somehow smuggle along with himself to safety was disheartening. So he shuffled around for a bit and eventually decided to grab some coffee before heading back.

There was one more bloke at the vending machine which was perfect because Yoongi had no change on him.

“’Scuse me, do you happen to have some change for 10 won?”

“Yeah, hold on.”

Yoongi should have recognized that voice but it had been so long and he was not even paying that much attention so it took him completely by surprise to hear the stranger whispering his name in shock and disbelief.



Yoongi froze. It couldn’t be, no, it’s been so long and yet …


“Jesus Christ, Yoongi ...”

Hoseok tries reaching out for him but Yoongi’s hands immediately fly up defensively, he even takes a half a step back.

“Are you … can you talk? I mean … are you alone?”

“What do you mean, yeah, I’m alone … Hoseok, we can’t ...”

“No, no, no! Yoongi, it’s ok. I know, alright? I know everything.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re getting you out, don’t worry. I know it’s been taking us forever but we’re doing out best, it’s just that there have been some complications …”

“Hoseok, I don’t know what you’re talking about but I gotta go, ok? I can’t be talking to you.” Yoongi says and tries stepping away again but Hoseok mirrors his movements, not allowing him to distance himself.

“You don’t have to freak out, ok? We’ve got you, I promise. You just gotta hang on a while longer.”

“I honestly have no idea what you’re on about ...”

“The info you’ve given us. We’re doing all we can but the Kims are fighting back and it’s difficult...”

“What info? I didn’t give you shit!”


“Fuck! So the rat’s been sending you information! You, of all people! Fuck!”

“Yoongi, what … “

“You thought I was the one informing you?! Hoseok, fuck ...”

Yoongi groaned and grabbed at his hair. How was this possible? Out of all the police officers out there it had to be Hoseok. And they just had to meet, why…

“Yoongi, please tell me you’re kidding, please ...”

“I’m a mobster, Hobi! Isn’t it obvious?! I fucking shot you! I’m a fucking turncoat! I didn’t send you any info! I’m not a dirty rat!”

“No… Yoongi, no … You’re just saying that, you’re afraid someone followed you ...”

“Don’t do this to yourself, Hobi … You know what I’ve become all those years ago, you know what I’ve done since.”

“The man I know, the man that is like a brother to me, wouldn’t have become a lowlife gangster for no good reason! Min Yoongi is a good man!” Hoseok says and it’s loud, loud enough that the few people passing by turn their heads for a moment.

“Min Yoongi is a fool, a lost, pathetic fool,” the brunet says and his voice is low but shaky.

Hoseok is stunned into silence. He wants to argue, wants more reasons, an explanation, anything. What was even happening? He tries talking but no words come out. He looks at Yoongi but somehow this is not Yoongi. This man with the hard eyes and the bruised, tired face, this man with the gait of an old lion and the voice of someone used to spitting ice, this is not his brother.

Hoseok watches him turn around and leave, looking over his shoulder to make sure he isn’t being followed. He doesn’t follow, no, there’s no logic in that. Why follow a stranger around?

A train’s horn can be heard as it’s approaching fastly. Hoseok considers the possibility of a train wreck. After all, disaster just keeps following him like a shadow.

Chapter Text

“What's your name?" was the first thing Jin ever told him. They were seven and ten years old back then and they were standing in the grand hallway of Kim Kangmin's mansion. If Namjoon focused hard enough he could even recall the temperature that day, mildly warm, a bit humid, they were just getting out of winter. He was wearing a Ninja Turtles t-shirt and some old jeans with a pair of red sneakers whereas Jin was decked in what Namjoon thought to be his Sunday clothes, shirt and dress pants, even a tie. But that wasn't it, it was a Wednesday and the contrast between them stuck with Namjoon even to this day.

He was supposed to be his friend and study buddy. The day before and even on their way to the mansion, Namjoon’s father had drilled him on how to behave and speak around his boss’ son.

"Seokjin is Master Kim's pride and joy, he invests everything he has in his son so you have to live up to the same expectations in order to keep up with him. Whatever he studies, you study, whatever he wants to play you play along. Let him win, let him be smarter. Now is not the time to prove how great you are, ok, Namjoon? Be his friend, God knows that kid needs one."

He hadn’t understood it at the time. To him, Seokjin had everything. He was absurdly rich and he could do anything he wanted, he didn’t even have to go to school, he had teachers come over to his place, it was a dream life.

They were awkward around each other the first few days. Seokjin was very reluctant to talk or engage with Namjoon in any way. They stood side by side during their private lessons and shared a rubber but never spoke to each other. Namjoon always felt like he was falling behind. Of course, there was a three-year difference between them and as kids that seemed like quite a gap. Namjoon wasn’t as fast a reader as Seokjin, he didn’t know as many things as him, neither math nor biology nor sports. So he did his best to catch up.

After the lessons, Seokjin liked to go swimming and you can't talk underwater so they didn't. Sometimes Seokjin wanted to go ride horses and again you can't just shout while galloping so they were silent then as well. During meals, it was impolite to speak and so was when watching movies. Namjoon learned to read Seokjin without words. He studied the way his brows furrowed when he didn't quite get math and how his tongue poked out from between his lips when he was trying to read a book with many sentences. He learned exactly how to distinguish the smile he sported when petting and brushing his horse from the one he wore throughout dinner when they were having something delicious. He discovered that he mumbles in his sleep sometimes when he naps after lunch and that he really likes flowers even though he'd never admit it because he always touches them with care when they go through the garden.

One long summer day found the boys under an old oak tree in the back garden of the mansion. Namjoon was re-reading Winnie the Pooh while Seokjin was tackling The Chronicles of Narnia. They brought along a thermos filled with warm strawberry tea and a bag of jelly beans to share. Sometimes the wind would pick up, rustling the huge, protective branches above them and caressing their heated foreheads, sometimes Namjoon would giggle at one of Winnie’s remarks.

“That’s a book for babies, Nam-ah.”

Namjoon immediately unglued his eyes from the pages. Seokjin was actually talking to him, actually starting a conversation.

“But I like it!” he protests weakly.

“That’s cause you’re a dummy like Winnie.”

“Winnie’s not a dummy. He just doesn’t care about unimportant things.”

“Some things are important.”

Seokjin carefully places his bookmark between the pages he was reading and starts fishing for something in the backpack he brought along. Namjoon tries to ignore him and not get upset when all of a sudden the other boy drops a huge book in his lap.

“Read this instead.” Seokjin demands.

The...Hobbit. Yah, this book is huge!”

“Read it. I don’t want people thinking you’re a dummy.”

“I don’t care what people think!”

“I do! If they think you’re stupid they’ll take you away and then I’ll be alone again like before and I don’t want that! So just read the book!”

Namjoon almost felt tears prickling his eyes. Was that how others saw him? Were they really going to punish him by taking him away from Seokjin? He couldn't allow that to happen, Seokjin was his only friend and he was Seokjin's only friend too. He opened the book and started carefully reading it line by line. Silence settled once more between the two.

Namjoon read The Hobbit diligently and then every other book Seokjin gave him. All the Chronicles of Narnia and The Little House on the Prairie and all the adventures that ever took place in Oz. They’ve spent almost the entire summer under the oak tree. they’d prepare their backpacks with the blankets and tea and treats and water and all the books they were planning on devouring until it got too dark outside to read and the maids would come looking for them to take them inside for dinner. Namjoon kept on reading even after, late into the night, under the covers, with his trusty flashlight. When he told Seokjin about it the older insisted that he join him and that’s how they ended up sneaking into each other’s room every night and reading until either the batteries would die or their eyes would fall closed, heavy with sleep. Morning would find them entangled, hands clasped together, books haphazardly open on top of them, flashlights digging into their sides, they would curl up and dream together about far away places.

Summer was creeping into autumn when the two boys, now with sweaters on as they stood under their trusty tree, were going through the Harry Potter books, Seokjin was on the latest in the series, The Goblet of Fire, while Namjoon was catching up, halfway through The Prisoner of Azkaban.

“Do you think I’d be a Ravenclaw?” Namjoon asks, suddenly.

“Phhh, you’re a Hufflepuff.”

“But I like books ...”

“Doesn’t matter, you cry a lot.”

The Giving Tree is heartbreaking.”

"No, you're just a softie, Joonie the Hufflepuff."

“Jinnie, the nasty Slytherin.”

“Avada Kedavra !”

“Oh my god, don’t say that!”

“It’s not a real spell, dummy.”

"Yeah well, why risk it?"

Seokjin was almost breathless from all the laughing he was doing at Namjoon’s expense, the younger’s brows still lifted in concern. He just didn’t want anything bad to happen to them, is all. Why was Seokjin always braver than him?


The boys freeze as if through magic upon hearing the familiar voice. Master Kim, Seokjin's dad was calling for his son and he dutifully skeddadled, not wanting to anger his father by making him repeat himself.

Seokjin’s dad was scary. Namjoon didn’t know exactly what made him so scary but his own dad always warned him about never looking straight at the man and never talking to him unless talked to. He knew from the other boy that Master Kim gets angry quickly, yells loudly and sometimes even slaps him, that he is an important man from which he has a lot to learn and that he is to be obeyed always, no questions asked.

But one day Master Kim went a bit too far.

It was just a week after Seokjin's eleventh birthday when Namjoon couldn't find him anywhere. He looked all over the mansion, the gardens, the stable, even through the maze in which he got lost and the gardener had to help him out. He asked the chef, knowing that Seokjin would sometimes hang around the kitchen just to get some treats, he asked the butler and the piano teacher. Eventually, Namjoon decided to just wait in the boy's room for his return.

He sat on the floor, back against the bed, with his latest book in hand when he noticed the socked little foot coming out from under the bed.


A sniffle was the only answer. Swallowing down his worries, Namjoon put aside the book and crawled under. He finally found Jin but his happiness was momentary as he noticed, even in the dark of the cramped space that his best friend was crying, cheeks red and purple.

“Jinnie… what happened?”

“My dad’s a damn dementor.”

Namjoon understood. He gently reached out and started petting Seokjin's hair and bruised face and after long minutes the crying stopped, leaving only a heavy, sad silence in its wake. Without a word, Jin started crawling from his hiding spot and Namjoon followed. Once out the two hugged. They've never done it before but in the moment it felt like the best medicine. Namjoon held him a little too tightly and Seokjin buried his face in the other's heated chest. It felt like honey tea on a rainy day.

“Joonie… would you read for me?”

“Sure. Harry Potter?”

“No… Something easy.”

Namjoon thought for a few seconds before quickly jumping to his feet and heading towards his room to bring back a hardback collection of European fairytales. He grinned widely at Seokjin and the other only smiled a little, settling once more in his friend’s arms. He read to him Cinderella and then Rapunzel. Before they even knew it, the sun was setting, the room engulfed in the warmest, golden shine.

“I wish I was a princess … Then I’d know for sure someone will save me.” Seokjin sighed, resting his head on the other’s warm shoulder.

“Is your dad that bad?”

“Yeah… Joon-ah, he’s the worst. I’ve seen him … do things.”

“My dad says I shouldn’t even look at him.”

“Your dad’s right. You’re lucky to have a good dad.”

They snuggle for a while longer, in peace. The sun keeps on setting, the gold steadily turning to blue.

“Princess Jinnie.”


“You can be a princess if you want. With me at least.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Only if you want. I’m not making you.”


Namjoon waits.

“Ok. But you’ll always have to save me.”


Namjoon goes through a growth spurt when he hits 13, getting all tall and lanky, dwarfing even Seokjin that was dealing with his own embarrassing teenage years.

They spend less time together, Namjoon having distinguished himself in maths and languages, takes extra lessons now. Also, his father is making him learn how to box and fight and he’s been taking him on long hiking trips almost every weekend to “consume his youthful energy in a healthy way.”

In the meantime Seokjin spends more and more time with his father, tagging along to meetings and doing a lot of weird extracurriculars such as chemistry and economy and psychology. He still returns home some days bruised and hurt and Namjoon still calls these occasions Princess Jin emergencies. He still cuddles the boy snuggling in his long arms, still reads to him the same stories they came to know by heart, even with his occasionally cracking voice, he makes Seokjin tea himself, shooing the butler and handling everything himself even is he is clumsy. Seokjin’s eyes sparkle whenever he tastes the always too sweet concoction and the always crumbled biscuits. Namjoon had become his safety, his haven.

One day Seokjin bursts into the study where Namjoon was doing his homework and places a gun on the desk, startling the younger, making him jump from his seat.

“Jinnie, what the hell...”

“Dad’s teaching me how to shoot!” Jin announces, excitedly.


“What do you mean why? I gotta know since I’m gonna take his place one day.”

“Who says you gotta take his place?”

“What else am I gonna do?”

“I don’t know … Inherit a kingdom?” Namjoon laughs, having calmed down a little.

“I’m inheriting my dad’s kingdom.”

“What if I’ll have a bigger one?”

“Then princess Jin will offer you his hand in marriage!”

“Princess Jin’s a gold digger!”

Not necessarily but Seokjin did like being spoiled. For Namjoon it had always been clear that he was sent to live with the older at his father’s boss’ request, that he was a guest in their mansion and that he didn’t belong even if the maids and all the other staff treated him and Seokjin equally. Yet whereas Seokjin would wear his silks and fine clothing to go riding or playing outside in the dirt, Namjoon would always be the one to take care of his clothes, hang them up, patch them up when needed. While Seokjin whined and made faces at his food, Namjoon was grateful and happy for each meal. Seokjin would grow bored of things and have new ones bought for him all the time and Namjoon was the one to collect things and hold on to them for years. Yes, Namjoon wasn't as rich as Seokjin but he couldn't fault Seokjin for being spoiled either. Afterall Jin's dad was Kim Kangmin. His father was not equal to Seokjin’s father, no matter how close they were as friends, so Namjoon always felt somewhat inferior to Seokjin.

That’s why when his dad sat down with him one day during one of their exhausting hikes to catch their breaths and have some water and he asked him about his studies Namjoon expected to get scolded.

“I’m still far behind Jin hyung ...” he mumbles, kicking some stones.

“Jin’s 16, Joon, you’re still a kid compared to him. I’m asking in general. Are the lessons too difficult, too many?”

“No, dad, I can handle them fine. Just wish I could finish learning some things faster.”

“You’re already way ahead of other kids your age.”

“I’m not a kid ...”

“Master Kim was praising you the other day, said you were a great influence on his son, that he wished Jin had a brother like you.”


"You know we owe a lot to the Kim clan, Namjoon. They made our family prosper, they gave you everything you could have ever wanted and most importantly a future you can depend on."

“What are you saying, dad?”

“I wanted to thank Master Kim for everything in a way that would truly show our gratitude. So I offered you as fealty to him.”

“As what?”

“From now on you are no longer Bang Namjoon, you’re Kim Namjoon of the Kim clan.”

Seokjin took the news better than Namjoon had anticipated. Honestly, Namjoon didn't know exactly what to expect, but the older squeaking and jumping around and hugging him was not it. Nonetheless, he was happy to be accepted, he was happy to share a name with Seokjin.

Somehow Namjoon had always expected to share a name with Jin. Not just a name, a home, everything. they’ve been together their whole lives until now and there was no reason why that would ever stop.

Master Kim decided to throw a Halloween party that year. Obviously, this got the boys very excited. Seokjin insisted they get matching costumes. That was hours ago and they were still rummaging through the closet in the older’s room.

“We could go as Harry and Draco...”

“You’re still a Hufflepuff, Nams. Don’t think that I forgot.”

“Mulder and Scully?”

“We both wanna be Scully.”

“Tom and Jerry?”

“Be serious.”

“Salt n Pepper?”


“Jinnieeeee! I’m bored! Just … wear a dress, we can be Beauty and the Beast or something.”

“That’s brilliant!”


“Time for princess Jinnie to make her debut!”

To be honest, Seokjin had always been wilder than Namjoon. At least when it was just the two of them. Seokjin was always the one to laugh louder, steal sweets from the kitchen, tell bad jokes and pull pranks, he was the one that would turn up the radio whenever Britney Spears came on and flail around, calling that dancing, pulling Namjoon along much like the tornado that took Dorothy to Oz.

So it shouldn't have come as a surprise when on the day of the party Seokjin did, in fact, show up in a pink dress with a plastic crown on his head and glitter in his hair. Luckily Namjoon matched him with his wooden sword and handmade crown and cape.

“Well hello there, King Namjoon!”

"Princess Jinnie. We are the idiot duo of this party. Everybody dressed so fancily…"

"Yeah but my dad's Master Kim so I'm the queen of the ball even if I show up with a sheet over me and two holes for eyes."

They stayed together throughout the evening, swaying to the not so upbeat music, munching on everything the huge buffet had to offer, Seokjin even quickly downing two glasses of champagne and making Namjoon cough his way through one as well. They were incredibly giddy as night fell and entirely in a world of their own until Seokjin's dad appeared almost as if summoned, grabbing his son by his arm hard enough to bruise, hissing as he spoke to him in anger:

“What do you think you’re doing in this getup?”

“Aw, dad, my arm...”

“Answer me!”

“It’s just a costume …”

“That’s not a costume for the heir of the Kim clan! Go to your room this instance! Before you embarrass me even more! And you!” he turns to Namjoon who was shaking in his boots quite literally. “Your job is to keep him safe from himself and yet you let him humiliate himself like this in front of everybody?! Why did I even give you the clan’s name?! Go with him. I don’t want to see either of you for the next couple of days, am I understood?!”

"Yes, Sir!" the boys squeak and they’re quick to run up the stairs as soon as Master Kim frees Seokjin from his harsh grip.

Once in his room Seokjin dramatically collapses on the bed, tule and lace delicately falling around him.

“My dad’s such a jerk...”

“I’m sorry ...”

“What are you apologizing for?”

“I should have come up with a better costume idea ...”

Namjoon flops on the bed next to the older and reaches for his hand, interwinding their fingers.

“It’s not the costume … he just doesn’t want people thinking his son is a fag.”

“What’s a fag?”

“A dude that likes dudes.”

“Is that bad?”

“Many think that way. But I think they’re just stupid.”

"Well, I guess I'm a fag."

Seokjin holds himself up on one elbow and looks down at Namjoon still resting on his pillows.

“You like boys?”

“I like one boy.”


“Jinnie, are you dumb?!”

"Well, I want you to say it!"

“I like you, ok? I like you. Happy?”

“Very. ‘Cause those people are right, I am a fag and I like one boy too.”

“Is it the stable boy?”

"A princess like me doesn't fall for peasants, King Namjoon. Although he is cute ..."

“Hey! I’m cute!”

“Yeah, you are …”

That's how their first kiss happened, between breathless giggles, with Jin dressed in a puffy pink princess dress and Namjoon's thigh getting poked by the wooden sword he sat on when he flopped on the bed. Their first kiss tasted like the first sip of champagne and expensive chocolates handmade by the chef early that morning. Later Seokjin would confess that he had actually saved his first kiss for Namjoon, that he wanted it to be like in the stories and Namjoon would confess that he said like but what he meant was love only that he had been too shy to actually say the word. They would never forget their first kiss even if countless others came after it, that one was for the books.

They are still themselves even after their confessions and the kiss, they still read too much and spend time with their dads despite rather doing anything else, they study and play together just as before, ride horses side by side, swim at the same pace, eat the same food because they have the same favorites. But between all these usual activities they steal kisses and touches and smiles that now cut straight to their hearts. Namjoon has this weird impression that everything is tinted pink now and Seokjin calls it lovision. At night they don’t sneak into each other’s room to read books under the covers in the light of their torches, they do it so that they can cuddle closer, kiss deeper, feel each other more and more each time.

One night Jin shows up in just an oversized t-shirt that looks like a nightgown on him. Namjoon's cheeks turn pink and Jin giggles because despite the dim light he still noticed. They get under the covers and Namjoon's lanky limbs soon wrap around his boyfriend tightly and they both sigh in content. Boyfriend. Wow, what a concept.

They kiss, of course they do, slow and sweet as it usually starts out before Jin needily begins to lick at Namjoon's lips, begging for entrance, which he always grants. They still lack finesse, it's all too much tongue and not enough breathing, Namjoon always bites Jin's plump lips, Jin always whines in return.

Tonight however Jin does more than that. He draws closer, entire body clinging to the younger’s, skin heated and slightly damp with sweat. Jin’s hips move on their own accord and after a bit of grinding Namjoon can feel him growing hard against his thigh.

“Jinnie ...”

“I’m sorry, Joonie… need you ...”

“It’s ok… keep going ...”

The older lets a moan escape his lips and Namjoon shivers from head to toe hearing it. He twists around a bit, pushes his leg between the other's, letting him properly hump him now. Namjoon's also grown hard but he ignores it, focuses entirely on Jin and how he moves, how he pants and moans almost desperately. His brain almost short circuits when he hears him whisper a breathless "close" and after a few more quick thrusts he feels Jin twitching, he feels warmth pooling against his thigh, and he hugs the boy tightly, suffocatingly so.

“I made a mess ...”

“We’ll clean up.”

“I’m sorry ...”

“It’s ok, princess.”

Jin buries his face in the crook of the younger's neck. They're so in love.

The next night it happens again and so does on the night after that. A week in and Seokjin becomes bolder, straddling Namjoon and humping him shamelessly. He only wears his long t-shirt and boxers to bed now and Namjoon carefully slips his hands under the garments, sometimes holding on to the boy's hips, guiding his erratic thrusts, other times he kneads at his soft buttocks or reaches up to cup his pecs or grip his tiny waist. Seokjin loves it, he feels less and less embarrassed by the act, he even goes for two rounds in one night but he still melts into a puddle of emotions each time his boyfriend calls him princess.

One night Jin is on Namjoon's lap and their hard clothed cocks accidentally brush against each other, making the younger throw his head back in pleasure. Seokjin doesn't move away, instead settles more comfortably so that their erections align and for the first time the two boys find their release together.

It takes them a month to build up the courage to slip their hands into each other's boxers and another two weeks to discard them altogether. Before the seasons change they can only sleep if they’re naked in each other’s arms.

The day Namjoon turns 14 he is called into Master Kim's office. The boy nervously stands ramrod straight in a crisp white shirt he ironed himself with utmost care and a new pair of pants he bought just for this occasion. He needs to be presentable, he needs to say everything right. He doesn't even want to fathom the consequences of disappointing Seokjin's dad.

“Namjoon, happy birthday, son! So happy to see you!” Kim Kangmin salutes him from behind his huge mahogany desk.

“Thank you so much, Master Kim.”

“How are things? I hear great news from your teachers about your academic progress.”

“I’m doing my best, Sir. I want to show my gratitude for the education you are offering me.”

“Good boy, you’re also bulking up I see, you’re as grown as my Seokjin and he’s three years older than you. “

“Thank you, Sir, I want to keep up with Jin in everything he does.”

“Why’s that?”

“So that I can be by his side always, to help him and protect him.”

"Same way as your dad does for me. I'm proud to see that our clan's grown honorable heirs."

Master Kim reaches under the desk for a moment and Namjoon takes that opportunity to release the breath he was holding and inhale deeply before the man looks at him again. He’s set a wooden box in front of him and he’s gesturing to Namjoon to open it. The boy does as instructed and finds inside the box a shiny and dangerous looking gun.

“I gave Seokjin a Beretta but I figured a Glock suits you better. “

“Master Kim ...”

“Happy birthday, Namjoon. May it serve you well.”

“He gave you a cop weapon.” Seokjin scoffs, looking at his boyfriend’s birthday present with disgust.

“I don’t even want to shoot ...”

“You gotta learn, Nam-ah. You can’t be a Kim and not know how to shoot.”

Jin kisses Namjoon’s pout insistently until the younger starts giggling again.

“I’ll learn, but only so I can protect my princess.”

“Then you better catch up quickly ‘cause princess already has a lot of shooting experience.”

Catching up to Seokjin is what Namjoon has done his entire life so he finds the extra hours he spends at the shooting range to just be a normal process. He has a system now, he looks at his timetable and carefully carves out time to get as much practice as possible. He does this in such a manner that Seokjin and most others don't even catch on, they just get surprised by the rapid progress he makes and applaud him for being extraordinary when in fact he's very average, painfully so. Namjoon never considers himself good enough at anything, whatever his beautiful Seokjin does effortlessly it takes him weeks of hard work to do just as well. It always takes him twice as long as Jin to learn anything so in order to cut down the time he doubles his efforts. it's worth though, it's what he tells himself. Seokjin is worth it all.

His diligence, however, gets put to test one rainy autumn day when Seokjin storms in, tears in his eyes and all but collapses in Namjoon's arms.

“I hate him, Joon, I hate him with all my heart, I hate him!”

“Shh, Jinnie, what happened?”

"He's sending me to college next year."


“I told him I can learn from home, I begged him but he wouldn’t listen!”

“Ok, ok, let’s not panic...”

“Not panic! Joonie, I can’t be away from you! I can’t!”

“You won’t, ok? There’s entrance exams, right? I can study and get in early. It’s just 3 years ...”

“What are you saying, love? You can’t catch up 3 years in a few months, we’re doomed...”

“I’ll do it, ok? I’ll do anything for us.”

Namjoon would indeed do anything. That included long nights spent at his desk, burning the candle at both ends while Seokjin fell asleep looking at his back hunched over books, it included getting indigestions from doing math problems with one hand and eating with the other, it included cutting down on fun activities such as riding their horses and enjoying movies together, it included a lot of tears from Seokjin soaking his shirts whenever the older missed him too much or felt like it was all hopeless.

But it hadn't been hopeless. On the day of Namjoon's exams, Seokjin kissed him under the old oak tree so deeply he could feel it in his bones and all doubts scattered in the wind. How could he fail when he had Jin on his side?

Namjoon was the youngest candidate to have enrolled for the entrance exams in the last ten years. Namjoon, at just fifteen, was the youngest to have ever gotten accepted.


Impressed beyond words, Master Kim arranged so that the two boys would share a room in the dorms and to make their trips to campus easier he gifted Seokjin a car on his 18th birthday. It took the boys hours to pack their bags before leaving the mansion, unable to keep their hands off each other, falling on to the bed in a fit of giggles, hearts flying around them invisibly.

Their college days had been some of the best of their lives. They didn’t have to sneak around anymore, they could share a bed whenever they felt like it, kiss whenever they wanted, be as loud and obnoxious as they wished.

Seokjin was majoring in economics with a minor in psychology and Namjoon was doing commerce with a minor in English. It was a lot, but not when they were together, their study sessions warmed by cuddles and kisses and sweet encouragements, their long nights ending with the reward of the other’s warm body. They were blossoming.

After their first exam session, Seokjin took Namjoon to a nearby park where he had spotted an oak tree much like the one they had at home. Under it, he gifted Namjoon a small box.

“What’s this?”

“Open it. I bought these for us before you took the entrance exams … I thought you wouldn’t make it so ...”

“So you got us matching pendants.”

“They’re lockets. Look inside.”

Namjoon’s mouth fell open in a surprised o. The matching pictures inside were of them, years ago, from the Halloween party.

“I don’t remember taking this picture ...”

“We were both tipsy. I’ve forgotten about it too until I changed my laptop and went through some old files. Do you like it?”

“Jinnie, it’s from the day of our first kiss.”

“So… yes?”

"Yes, of course, oh my god. Let's try them on!"

They carefully take turns turning around and having the other clasp the locket closed, Namjoon's tongue poking out while focusing to not accidentally ruin the delicate thing. Once they get them on and tuck them safely under their shirts they kiss, deeply, slowly, lovingly.

“One day I’ll be the one giving you jewelry under the oak tree.”

“Oh? Gonna give me a tiara?” Seokjin teases, kissing Namjoon’s dimples.

“No, a ring.”

“Joonie ...”

“I mean it.”

“Mmm… Will it have a diamond?”

“The biggest.”

Their room was on the last floor and this gave Namjoon an idea. He couldn’t wait anymore, not after Jin had given him matching lockets, not after what he promised. He had to let the words out clearly like he hadn’t been able to when he was 13 and he had to do it right the same day, he simply couldn’t wait.

As night fell the sky was clear. It was a chilly winter night with a bright moon and the dorms and the campus were just outside the city so plenty of stars could be seen. Namjoon made hot chocolate and of course, it was too sweet but Seokjin didn't say a word about it, not when he was sitting on the rooftop, their fluffiest blanket around their shoulders, snuggled into Namjoon's warm chest, watching the stars.

“Oh! I saw a shooting star!” Jin suddenly gasps. “Look, another one!”

“Yeah, I was hoping we could see them tonight. They’re called the Quadrantids, they’re dust from an old comet.”

“No, they’re shooting stars. Stop being so smart and make a wish.”

“Ok, I wish ...”

“No, you can’t say it aloud! It won’t come true!”

"Yeah, it will. I wish to be with you for the rest of my life."

“That’s a given, Nams.”

“Is it?”

“Of course. Was there any doubt?”

“Sometimes I’m afraid ...”

“Of what?”

“That I’m not good enough for you.”

“For a smart person, you’re really dumb.”

“Seokjin ...”

“Oh no, full name.”

Seokjin stops joking the moment he notices how serious Namjoon’s face is. He bites his lip nervously and holds on to the younger tighter, waiting for him to continue, understanding that he has something important to say. Namjoon kisses his forehead as a thank you and continues.

“I know that perhaps you still think I’m a kid in many ways and I know I still have so much to learn but I want to do it. I want to be the best version of myself so that I can offer you what you deserve and you deserve the world. I mean it. you’re everything to me and I can’t even imagine my life without you. I know we already had our first kiss but I was too much of a coward to say this to you then and I kept on being a coward until now but … You gave me this locket because you thought you were gonna lose me because I wouldn’t be strong enough to stay by your side no matter what. I never want to put you through that again, I never want you to think that there’s a chance of us losing each other. I’ll do my very best, I swear and I’ll always be with you no matter what. I love you, Kim Seokjin.”

Jin's eyes were swimming in tears at this point, fat, shiny tears that glistened in the moonlight and rolled down his heated cheeks too fast for Namjoon to catch despite his best efforts of stopping their flow and shushing his uncontrollable hiccups.

“I love…hic... I love you… hic… too ...Joonie, I … hic … I love you...”

“Shh, it’s ok ...”

“No… hic… tell me… hic… tell me again.”

“I love you, Jin, I love you, I love you ...”

Seokjin wished with all his might that night, looking up pleadingly at the beautiful winter sky as a few errand stars kept falling, he begged all powers in existence to never take Namjoon away from him. Little did he know that the other was silently wishing for the same thing.

They came inside once Seokjin had stopped crying and quickly slid under the covers, the cold having seeped into their bodies, making them tremble. They cuddled closely, sharing warmth, Namjoon’s hands roaming over Seokjin’s back, warming him up, sending shivers throughout his body. They kept on kissing and whispering their love as if the words, once out, couldn’t stop coming to them. Seokjin moved to straddle Namjoon, holding his beloved face between the palms of his hands and kissing him breathlessly.

“Namjoon… touch me ...”

“I am ...”

“More … Joonie I …”

Namjoon did his best to appease his needy boyfriend, licking into his hungry mouth, biting his delicious lips and guiding his hips into that familiar rhythm that had been enough for them for so long. Seokjin soon forgets about how cold he felt not even half an hour ago and he discards his clothes with haste and clumsily does the same for Namjoon all while still kissing him and grinding on him.

The younger giggles at the other’s eagerness and bites down the long column of his neck, one hand holding him steady by the waist while the other moves to wrap around his cock. Seokjin moans loudly but only allows him to pump him a few times before taking his hand and guiding it back, towards his ass, between his buttocks. The second Namjoon’s fingers caress his tight rim, Seokjin shivers from head to toes.

“Jinnie … are you sure?”

“Yeah… I’ve been waiting for so long … “

“I’ve never ...”

“Me neither … Want you to be my first and last, Joonie.”

“Me too, just you forever.”

Seokjin reaches for their tiny bedside table and grabs his hand lotion, squirting far too much on Namjoon's hand. The younger looks at him, unsure.

“It’s the best we have for now.”

“We don’t have to rush it.”

“I want it to be tonight.”

Namjoon understands. Tonight was special. He resumes kissing his boyfriend and circling his rim, this time lathering it with the lotion. He goes by instinct and the few pornos he's seen and read and once he musters the courage he slips a finger inside and stills. Above him, Seokjin moans and asks him to continue so he does. He just goes in and out steadily and once he feels the other relaxing he adds another finger. The moans are loader this time, spurring him on. At one point he changes the angle and Seokjin yelps.

“There, Joonie, oh my god, feels so good ...”

He gets up to three fingers when Seokjin cums all over their chests, screaming his name and trembling, tears rolling down his cheeks again. Namjoon gently lowers him on to the pillows and kisses him as he's still writhing with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“That was amazing ...”

“You’re so loud, princess.”

“I didn’t know fingers could feel so good, it’s never this good when I do it ...”

“You finger yourself?”

Seokjin blushes and tries to hide in Namjoon's chest but the other coaxes him from his hiding spot with kisses.

“What do you think about when you do?”

“Ah, don’t ask me that ...”

“Oh, keeping secrets?”

“No … I think about you, ok?”

“Me? And what am I doing?”

“You’re … you’re making love to me...”


“And I’m wearing the princess dress ...”


“What? I like it… makes me feel pretty and safe. Sometimes I wish I was a girl … Things would be much easier. Nobody would mess with us then.”

"I won't let anybody mess with us. You'll see. And I'll make love to you in that dress too and in whatever else you want because you're pretty no matter what you wear and I love you as a boy just as much as I'd love you as anything else."

“Joonie ...”


“’M hard again...”

Namjoon grabs the lotion himself this time, determined to show Jin just how much he loves him. He settles between the other’s long legs and Seokjin’s quick to wrap his arms around him, kissing and licking along his neck as Namjoon coats his length in slick and aligns himself with the ready, fluttering entrance. The first breach is a bit painful, Seokjin whimpering and grabbing Namjoon tightly. The younger shushes him and kisses him, waiting for him to adjust before moving again. They go slow until Seokjin practically melts in his arms and eventually, after many long minutes Namjoon bottoms out and they both gasp.

“You’re so big ...”


“Mm, feel so full … I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“Please, move, Joonie, make me yours.”

He does move, again, slowly, gently, working his way up towards a steady rhythm. Seokjin hooks his legs around Namjoon’s waist and the different angle has him moaning loudly once more.

“Did I hit the spot?”

“Yeah… oh god… Harder, please ...”

It doesn't take long for them both to get overwhelmed by the scorching pleasure. it's the dead of winter outside but under the covers, the two young lovers are sweating, heat pooling between their desperate, tense bodies. They can't control the sounds they're making, moans and whimpers and grunts falling from their bite swollen lips as they both approach their climax.

It hits them almost without warning, once more Jin cumming first, still splattering copiously on them and Namjoon soon follows, twitching and throbbing inside his boyfriend's tight heat as he empties himself completely in him, marking him as his own.

“Mine … mine ...” Namjoon mumbles, face pressed to Seokjin’s chest in which his heart beats erratically.

“Yours, Joonie, all yours forever ...”

“Baby ...”

“Mm… I like that.”

“More than princess?”


"Baby Princess."

“Love of my life.”

“Love of mine.”

Their college days were some of the best of their lives but also some of the worst.

Sure, they were used to spending time exclusively with each other but every now and again they’d like to make some new friends as well.

Namjoon didn't understand what the issue was. They were among the best students in the university, they were good looking and outgoing, they helped everybody unpromptedly and yet they've never gotten invited to anything not even once and whenever they tried to organize something they'd get very politely turned down. It was very isolating and a bit troublesome.

"I don't get it, nobody replied to our end of the school year party invitation." Namjoon complained, looking at the 0 notification icon on his phone.

"Nobody wants to hang out with us, Joonie, just let it go."

“But why?!”

“’Cause our fathers are gangsters, what do you mean why?”

It was easy to forget about that at times. Far away from their fathers' dealing, in their small room not too far away from campus, Namjoon would make chocolate and banana pancakes and Seokjin would go on and on about how this is his favorite dessert ever and everything seemed right in the world. They would share the sweetest, chocolate coated kisses and endless I love yous and not a single worry would enter their bubble.

But for the summers …

Coming home had stopped being so pleasant when their time was taken up by gun practice and boxing and endless meetings which they were forced to attend. They'd shut their ears whenever they heard words like heroin, cocaine, guns, prostitutes and tangle their pinkies behind everybody's backs, a silent promise to each other that they'd get through this.

Namjoon had vague hopes that he might become an author or a teacher, that he'd buy a pretty house in the countryside and Seokjin could plant a garden and they'd be happy till they grow old and die together.

That was until the sound of gunfire would cut through his daydreams and his instructor was telling him to pay attention and aim for the shoulders, that's where bulletproof vests are the weakest if he wants to disable and for the head if he wants to kill.

One day he joins his father on some business and he bites the inside of his cheek raw as he watches the man beat another to a pulp. This was supposed to be a gun transaction, this was supposed to be just business, illegal business, sure, but it didn’t have to get ugly. Yet that was his father covered in blood, knuckles shielded by brass, completely demented look upon his face.

He came home exhausted, the taste of blood still in his mouth and he wanted nothing more than to hug his Jin and tell him all about it but he finds his lover with a bag of frozen peas on his cheek, shoulders slumped, looking miserable. Namjoon quickly kneels in front of him and gently pushes the bag away, assessing the deep bruise under it.

“I … killed a man, Joonie… he… he made me kill a man ...”

“Baby ...”

“I started crying after and he … he called me a sissy and hit me… he said… Kims don’t feel … they do what they must ...”

“That fucking bastard ...”

“I’m a monster, Joonie ...”

“No, baby, no!”

“I’m a fucking monster and now you’ll hate me and ...”

“I don’t hate you, Jinnie, I could never! I love you, no matter what, do you understand? No matter what!”

“He’s turning me into a monster...” Seokjin drops the bag and starts sobbing and Namjoon’s heart shatters as he tries to hold his lover close, hold him together so that he doesn’t break.

"I don't care. You're my monster and I love you."

The same summer Namjoon also commits his first murder. Unlike Seokjin he doesn’t cry, he doesn’t even react much and he gets praises for it. He doesn't react to those either. Somewhere deep within him, he understands that there's no way out of this and his dreams of coming to their countryside home with a bouquet of roses for Jin on a sunny spring day fade away as the pool of blood at his feet grows and grows as if to engulf him.

They change after that summer. Not in any obvious way but the light that was once in their eyes grows duller, it dwindles at times, like dying embers. They cling to each other more than ever, they make love harder, longer, biting down and marking each other as if chased by something that wants to tear them apart and the only way they can hold on is by clawing their devotion into their flesh. They don't care about the people around them anymore, they learn to ignore the cold glances and the scowls on their faces, they know that they are feared and now people have reasons for it too.

By the time they finish college, they become men that wear their armors as second skins and nobody can penetrate them. They become their own fortress.

“It’s time you take on more serious responsibilities within the clan, Seokjin.”

“Yes, father.”

“Do you feel ready for it?”

"If I have my right-hand man by my side I'm sure I can accomplish anything you ask of me."

"I'm guessing you're referring to Namjoon."

“Yes, father.”

“He’s come a very long way and there’s nobody I’d rather trust to be by your side than him. Very well, both of you pack your bags, I’m assigning the Busan area to you, keep the business there running smoothly for 6 months and we’ll talk again by the end of it.”

Seokjin was happy to have half a year with no contact with his dad and keeping things running wasn't that big of a task. The fact that he was the Kim heir invested him with enough power to just scare any troublemakers into submission.

Namjoon, however, wanted to do more than just keep things in check. He spent countless days coming up with several different plans through which they could actually enhance the profit they were gaining from the area.

“Why are you doing this, Nams?”

“Think about it, if we impress your dad maybe he’ll get off our backs. This system I came up with reorganizes the hierarchy of the area, cutting both expenses and time, in a few months it’ll run itself and all we have to do is supervise. No more getting our hands dirty, no more putting you in the line of fire.”

“I thought we weren’t gangsters...”

“Look at them as just numbers. This is a math problem. We can solve it.”

They did solve it. They solved it so efficiently Master Kim hugged the both of them at the end of the 6 months and rewarded them with a lavish party at the manor. A party at which the couple got disgustingly drunk and left early to go make love under their oak tree and the clear summer sky. Two days later they were sent to Daegu to implement the same system there. And so another 6 months pass …

Before they knew it they were splitting their time between unfamiliar penthouses and villas in various parts of the country, in and out of clan meetings, and every now and again a party at which Master Kim would sing their praises and finally, finally say that he was proud of his son. They still witnessed murder and violence, most of which took place at their orders but they never got hands on involved anymore. Jin still had nightmares about it though and would wake up pulling Namjoon on top of him, begging him to just fuck the bad thoughts away. And he did, he gave Seokjin whatever he asked for. Most of the time it was sex, rougher and kinkier every time, other times it was sweet things like reading to him or making him chocolate and banana pancakes. Namjoon would often bring him flowers, handing him huge bouquets of roses and forget me nots and peonies, none of which could mask the fresh smell of blood and fire.

"You're birthday's coming ..." Namjoon remarks one early morning as they cuddled naked after three rounds of sex.

“I’m getting old, Joonie ...”

“26 is not old. I want to give you something special ...”

“Hmm… a wedding would be nice.”

“Baby, we’ve talked about this.”

"Yeah, yeah, not until I inherit the clan and we can do what we want ..."

“That doesn’t mean I can’t get you something for after our wedding.”

“A wheelchair for after you blow my back out on our wedding night.”


“Excuse me, who put me in a pink bunny suit just the other day?”

“Anyway! I was thinking of buying a house.”

“Because we don’t have enough of those ...”

"Not a crappy penthouse with 24/7 surveillance and armed security, an actual home, for us. Where we can be ourselves, someplace with no phone signal would be great ..."

“Somewhere far away from the Kim clan.”

“Yeah … a fairytale house for my princess.”

"Hmm… I want a house in Europe. But like warm Europe, someplace with a beach and pretty sunsets and flowers blooming year-round, someplace that smells nice."

“Yeah … Maybe they have festivals and fireworks and delicious food and music on the streets.”

“I could wear a straw hat and go fishing. I always wanted to learn how to fish.”

“Yeah, we could buy a boat too. Go sailing …”

"That would be a great birthday present, Joon."

“Then that’s what I’m getting you.”

They get very excited over the prospect of having a haven they could run to if things ever got out of hand within the clan. Jin dyes his hair blond, saying that he looks more bohemian this way and fits better would the whole European aesthetic. Namjoon couldn't believe he could fall in love so many times with the same person. They search online every evening after they peel off their constricting suits and wildly make love wherever they happen to be, on the floor, in the kitchen, against the windows. They look at pictures of villas off the coast of Spain and Italy and even Greece but none have that special something. Namjoon doesn't get discouraged though, he knows such important matters take time. Seokjin is impatient though, he wishes they could just elope right then and there, go anywhere, they can find their dream house while traveling along the Mediterranean coast, they have their entire lives ahead of them.

On the morning of Seokjin's birthday, Namjoon wakes him up with breakfast in bed, chocolate and banana pancakes of course and sweet tea. He doesn't let Jin lift a finger, feeding him himself and kissing him after each bite until the plate is empty.

“I love you, Joonie. Thank you, that was delicious.”

“Happy birthday, baby. I have something to show you.”

He replaces the breakfast tray on Jin lap with his open laptop. On the screen, Jin can see the most beautiful little villa he could have ever imagined. It's made of sandstone and it rests on the edge of a small beach, it's got a garden out front and a blue double door at the entrance above which a huge enclosed balcony curves around the house. One of the windows is open and the wind has blown out a sheer curtain. It's heavenly.

“Joonie… it’s perfect.”

“I thought you might like it.”

“It’s perfect, it’s … this is the one. This is where I want us to live.”

“It’s in Malta.”

“I’m not even sure where that is but that’s a good thing. I don’t want anybody to find us.”

“Happy birthday, angel.”

Seokjin just lets the tears fall, he hasn’t cried of happiness in a long time.

Theirs was a love for the books. All-encompassing and complete, unrelenting and ever growing. It stood immune to the horrors around them, it kept them safe. No matter what circumstances forced them to do, the two lovers would always find the strength to endure because they had each other. They would wash the blood off each other's hands and draw the curtains and be free between their sheets. Nothing could crack the powerful shield that was their love.

At least so they believed.

Namjoon had faith in him and Jin, blind, pure faith. He couldn’t fathom anything that could disrupt it. Until the day Master Kim called him to his office and found both his parents tied to chairs and gagged on one side of the massive desk and Seokjin’s mother in the same position on the other side.

“Master Kim, what ...”

“What does our clan value above anything else, Namjoon?”


“Answer me!”

“Loyalty, Master.”

“Loyalty! Our core principle and value. Loyalty! And what’s to be done when the heart of our family gets violated in the most despicable way?! What should we do with snakes we have fostered at our breasts for decades, what’s to be done with traitors of the highest degree?!”

“Master Kim …”

“Your father! My trusted partner, my only friend … In bed … with my wife! With my son’s mother!”

“No ...”

"Yes! Who am I to trust now? Tell me! Who can I trust anymore?! Who could possibly make this right?!"

“Master Kim, please...”

“Please what, child?!”

“Please don’t kill them ...”

“You were offered to me as fealty … Namjoon, Kim Namjoon, I gave you my name, I made you my own. I trusted you with my son, my only son ...”

“Please … please ...”

“Only the children can pay for the sins of their parents. Prove yourself to me, Namjoon, prove yourself a Kim. Cut down these traitors, show me where your loyalty lays.”

Namjoon couldn’t breathe. Or perhaps he was breathing too much. He couldn’t tell in the moment, all that was achingly clear was the fact that his chest felt as if it were being stabbed over and over again. It hurt, it hurt so badly …

“Now, Namjoon! If you still want to be a Kim.”

To be a Kim… he didn’t care for that. He hated being part of the clan, he never wanted any of this. Not the murders, not the business, not the nitty gritty of organized crime, he wasn’t a gangster. They made him play a role, they forced him, they gave him no choice, he was just a puppet … He wasn’t a real killer, he couldn’t murder his own family.

But being a Kim meant being with Seokjin. What would happen to Seokjin if he didn’t shoot? Would Master Kim kill him, tell Jin that he was a traitor like his dad? What would happen to Jin without him there to protect him? Oh no… was he really choosing between his family and Seokjin?

Master Kim was handing him a gun and he was taking it and everything was absurd. This was a test, it had to be …

“Sir … is this for real?”

“It is. Take a good look at it too. This is what blind trust leads to. Look closely at this situation, Namjoon, and never forget how love can stab you in the back."

“Sir… they are my parents.”

"And she is my wife, the love of my life. How about I make this easier for both of us, son? I'll end your parents' lives if you end my wife's. It would hurt less."

No, it wouldn't', Namjoon wanted to say but the words didn't come out. He just nodded. And turned away.

The two twin shots followed immediately. Namjoon didn't want to turn back around. He knew already, he knew that on those chairs now there were the corpses of his parents. He looked down instead but that was also a mistake as blood started pooling around him, soaking the plush carpet crimson. He couldn't even cry, couldn't even scream.

“Namjoon, now you. Take the gun, son, go on.”

He did. He couldn't think any more so he just obeyed. The weapon was warm, the safety was still off. Seokjin's mother was crying and pleading with her eyes for her life. This was the woman that gave him the love of his life, this was the person he was nothing but grateful to and he had to end her so that he could keep loving her son. He wanted to tell her, wanted to promise her that he'll take care of him, that he'll never let him endure the pain he was enduring now. He shot. Four times because once he pulled the trigger he panicked and was afraid he had missed and only hurt her, causing her more agony … he… made such a mess.

This was not right …

“You did well, Kim Namjoon, you did well.”

He looked up at the aging mob leader and saw nothing of him on Seokjin. His love was nothing like this monster, Seokjin was all his mother and he had just killed her in cold blood. This man was the cause of all their suffering, this man was turning them into him and Namjoon couldn’t stand for it for another second. He lifted the gun and aimed. He had nine more bullets and he was planning on emptying the cartridge.

The scream that interrupted him was heart-wrenching. He didn’t even have to look to know that it was Seokjin.

“Son, help me! He’s trying to kill me like he killed your mother!”

What? No, that was a lie!

“Jin, no, he’s lying!”

But Jin already had his gun out and Namjoon didn’t have time to explain to him, his lover obviously panicked and scared out of his mind. He shoots at Master Kim and he’s not sure if the bullets land where he intended but before he knows it Jin is shooting at him.

“How could you, you monster!”

“Jin, no!”

They fight, guns still dangerously in their grips. Namjoon's stronger, however, manages to push Jin against a wall and wrestle him for his gun but in the process drops his own. He's still screaming, they both are and neither manage to get their message across. Eventually, Namjoon shoves Jin from him and flees, thinking that he'll explain everything later, that the situation was far too dangerous and out of control and he didn't want them to get hurt.

Namjoon decided years later that running had been the worst decision of his life. He waited for Jin to return home that day but instead, his lover had sent his men to kill him. Namjoon barely made it out alive with the help of the few men that were loyal to him over Seokjin.

He found out the following day that he didn't manage to end Kim Kangmin, just cripple him for life. The bastard, however, could still talk and told Jin that Namjoon had planned a coup and was going to murder the entire Kim family to gain power. In any other context Jin wouldn't have believed such a tale but with the mutilated corpse of his mother as proof … Seokjin's love instantly turned to hatred.

Namjoon explained to whoever would listen what actually happened in Master Kim's office, hoping that his version of events would reach Seokjin's ears and maybe his lover would believe him after all. Jin heard it but didn't trust him.

The men did however and before he was ready Namjoon became the head of the then called New Kim clan.


In the week after the event, a whole week without Seokjin, Namjoon’s hair turned grey and it never regained its color.

He was a broken man and he spent the following few months drinking and killing and destroying, much like what Seokjin did on his end. They terrorized the capital and eventually, the Kim clan split in half.

At night Namjoon would only dream of Seokjin and love festered in his heart like poison. But it was a poison he wanted no cure for because how could he ever stop loving Seokjin? Who even was he without him?

In the picture, in the old locket, 13-year-old Namjoon had the answer in his bright eyes and a wide smile as he held onto an equally happy princess dressed Seokjin. Nobody, you are nobody without your love.

Chapter Text

“Uncle Byul, what’s his name?”

The old man slowly lifted his eyes from the newspaper he was reading, unsure who was bothering him from the sleuth of children he was supposed to be watching.

“Uncle Byul, what’s his name?”

The boy repeats, tugging on his sleeve and it was that brat, what’s his face, Taehyung. He takes a long drag from his cheap cigarette and looks towards where the kid was pointing in the noisy crowd in the courtyard.

“The new one?”


“Can’t remember. Why don’t you go ask him yourself and quit bothering me?”

because Taehyung was pretty shy when he was not being a loud mouth. He had no problems being rude and straightforward with the few adults around but when around his peers he would close off and stutter. Nonetheless this didn’t stop him from approaching the tiny figure of the boy that was crouching in the middle of the yard, knees to his chest, drawing in the dirt with a stick. He looked miserable and Taehyung felt for him, he knew how excruciating the first few days there could be.

“Hey ...”

The boy looked up at him with huge eyes and said nothing.

“Um… I’m Taehyung. What’s your name?”


“Jimin. Hi.”


“Um… how are you?”

Jimin shrugged and resumed his drawing. A house with a flower next to it the same size and a bunch of stick figures.

“When can I go home?” Jimin asks.

Oh boy, Taehyung was afraid of this. He crouched down next to Jimin and tried to explain.

“You’re not gonna go home, Jimin … You live here now, with me and the others here.”

“That’s not true … Momma’s gonna come get me.”

“How old are you, Jimin?”


“I’m eight. Look, it’s better if you start forgetting about your family, ok? I’m your hyung, I’ll take care of you.”

“Where are we even?”

The older kids called it an orphanage for lack of a better word but most of them knew they weren’t orphans, they can still recall their parents, their family, some remember being woken up in the dead of the night and dropped off here by strange men they’ve never seen before while their mothers and fathers did nothing to stop them, other recalled being snatched from the park, from the front of their houses, off the street as they returned from school.

Nobody knew where they were, the old, dilapidated building big enough to have been a factory once or some type of storage place. It was enclosed, tall cement walls all around and outside of them another tall, metal fence. There was no way of getting out. Sometimes, late at night or very early in the morning, when the children were quiet, you could hear the faint whistle of a train in the distance.

The only people watching them were the various “uncles” that came and went according to a schedule only they knew. They fed the kids once a day and put the older ones to work in the basement. Otherwise, they’d just supervise, make sure no fights broke out and nobody got too rebellious or else they’d get whipped with a belt and left to starve for the next few days.

It was cold, always so cold, even in the summer, the thick walls kept the heat away and the dampness and the mold permanent inside. The kids would fight and trade over raggedy blankets and socks. The food was scarce, mostly a sort of sad porridge made of some type of grain or just plain rice with a carrot tossed in there sometimes. They’d have tea though, three times a week, when uncle Byul was on duty, he always made them black tea. It tasted bad but it was warm and the kids appreciated him for it.

The teens, however, were wary of him, they always told the little ones to not get too close, that dear uncle Byul could snap at any moment if he didn’t have his fix for the day.

“How many times did I tell you to stay away from that creep, Tae?”

“I just asked him about Jimin.”

“Jimin the limp one?”

“No, the new kid. He’s seven.”

“Fuck me, he’s a baby.”

“Yah, Dongho, I’m only a year older than him, am I a baby too?”

“Nah, not you Tae, you’re smart. Smarter than most kids here. You gotta stay smart, tho. You still haven’t had any visitors, right? Keep that up and maybe they’ll send you downstairs to work and then I’ll take care of you.”

“I don’t wanna be packing drugs ...”

“It’s better than the other option you have. Besides, you can get a hit sometimes, makes you forget about being here at least for a while.”


Taehyung doubted that. He kept hearing that drugs can help you forget but he didn’t understand how, how could anything make him feel less cold and hungry and lonely? Dongho wouldn’t lie to him though, he’s been a good hyung to him ever since he came here two years ago, so maybe he’ll give it a go one day. But not anytime soon, he couldn’t afford to get distracted, not when he had Jimin to take care of.

There was something about Jimin that drew Taehyung in. He knew that none of the kids were there by choice and that they were all innocent but it was always a matter of months before the cruel existence they’d been tossed into took its toll and they all became harder, rougher, meaner. Jimin wasn’t like that. He cried every day and he never stopped because unlike everybody there Jimin never lost hope and faith that his mother would return for him. His innocence was naive and frankly quite stupid in Taehyung’s eyes, he should have given up hope the day he arrived yet that was months ago and Jimin still waited and waited, arguing that this was probably just some harsh punishment and once he becomes better, learns his lesson, his momma will come take him back home. Taehyung was always angry with him when he heard him talk like this and so were other kids, mocking him and telling him to shut up with his idiot ideas, he wasn’t special, he wasn’t better than any of them, he wasn’t gonna get out while others didn’t. Yet Taehyung always appreciated that about Jimin, his strong resolution to hang on. And that’s why he simply had to take care of him.


Of course, there was the one thing that Taehyung couldn’t protect him from. It happened on a spring day, just after the clouds cleared up after raining all night and the kids were outside trying to catch a bit of sunlight. Taehyung was trying to teach Jimin addition using sticks and small pebbles.

“See, you’ve got four on this side and three on this side. If I put them together, how many are there?”


“C’mon, Jiminie, think.”

“Six? No, seven.”

“Good job!”

Jimin giggled. He liked learning stuff from Taehyung, he always had something new to show him.

“Where did you learn this?”

“Dongho taught me. He said he has to since he’s my hyung here so I have to teach you since I am your hyung.”

“I miss school sometimes.”

“That’s stupid, Chim. Why would you miss having homework?”

“’Cause my momma always helped me with them ...”

“Yeah, well … I don’t give you homework so you don’t have to worry about it. Look, five pebbles on this side and five on the other. How many in total?”


They didn’t notice uncle Byul approaching them until the man stepped all over their pebbles and subsequently their math lesson.

“Come with me, Jimin, there’s someone here to see you.”

“Is it my momma?”

“No, just a really nice man that wants to meet you.”

Taehyung frowned and looped his arms around Jimin, trying to argue with Byul that Jimin didn’t want to meet the man, that if Jimin was going, he was going but he only got smacked a couple of times for his trouble and a crying Jimin still got dragged to see the visitor.


Visitors is what they called the men and the very few women that would come to the orphanage every once in a while. They were people from the outside, always dressed to the nines, they’d come and look around a few times and then ask the uncles to bring one of the kids for them to meet. Some of the visitors were nice, they’d give their chosen ones candies or clothes or other things, others weren’t so sweet, doing things that the kids were too ashamed to share with their friends. Many of them were dragged to these meet-ups and after they returned they’d cry themselves to sleep. The older kids hated them, called them pedophiles, many of them were so happy that they were of an age that didn’t appeal to these visitors and would rather pack drugs for the rest of their lives than have to be around those monsters again.


Taehyung snuck down to the basement after Jimin had been taken away. His cheeks still burnt from the sting of the slapping he received and he had tears brimming in his angry eyes. Once he found Dongho he broke down in silent sobs, clutching to the older boy, telling him in few words what had happened.

“Pray for him, Tae, yeah? Pray that he didn’t get one of the violent ones.”

He did. He sat next to Dongho, leaning against his broad back as the older kept on measuring white powder on a tiny scale and wrapped it in tiny plastic bags, and prayed. He didn’t know who he was praying to but he hoped that whatever entity out there still had some mercy to spare, would spare it for Jimin.


The boy returned late that same night and snuggled close to Taehyung under their pile of old blankets and rags. He smelled like cologne and his hair was disheveled.

“Are you ok?” Taehyung asked, hugging him tightly.

“Yeah… He’s a really nice man, his name’s Liu, he doesn’t speak very well ...”

“What did he do to you?”

“Nothing, why? He asked about me and told me about himself. He gave me orange juice and played with my hair. I showed him I can add numbers like you taught me! He said I’m really smart.”

“Jimin, you can’t like this person, ok? He’s a very bad man, don’t let him touch you again. Any beating is better than him touching you.”


Liu didn’t return for a couple of weeks and Taehyung had almost forgotten about him, figured that he probably didn’t like Jimin and he counted his blessings. But he rejoiced too soon. Three weeks later Jimin was called for another meetup with Mr. Liu.


He didn’t do anything to him at first, just talked and gave him treats and petted him, sometimes his hair, other times his cheeks. Jimin would save some of the chocolate or candy he got to share with Taehyung but the boy always refused, acting disgusted. Jimin didn’t understand. The visits began happening regularly after two months. Like clockwork, every week, around noon, Mr. Liu would come to see Jimin and spend time with him privately until late at night.

Taehyung spent this time in the basement with Dongho, sometimes talking, most of the time just silently praying.


One late night, a year later, Jimin returned to the corner of the room where their makeshift bed was, slid beside his best friend and just cried. Taehyung held him through it, kissing his hair and wiping his snot with the sleeve of his shirt. He was so afraid to ask what happened. Jimin told him anyway, he needed to tell someone, needed to let it all out.

“You were right, TaeTae-hyung … he is a bad man … he … took my clothes off … and hugged me naked … I was scared but he shushed me … so I cried and he got upset … he called me bad words… like the boys call Sandara noona ...”

“I’m so sorry, Chiminie ...”

“I want my momma ...”


Jimin never grew rough and edgy. All around him the boys and the girls became colder and colder as if the winter that never seemed to leave the inner walls of the orphanage had nested within them. They learned to talk less and when they did they spat out the words, unable to trust those around them, doubting even the slightest gesture of kindness. Their bodies were all thin and dirty and hard from the roughhousing they did with each other, from the beatings, from the hunger and from the hands of their visitors. Jimin stayed frail and gentle and soft on the inside as if his heart was made of cherry blossoms.

He did get used to the place, in time. He cried still, but less often, his tears burnt less when they fell on his cheeks now. He still clung to the hope that his mom will eventually return even though he confessed to Taehyung that he was starting to forget how exactly she looked.

Taehyung never let him dwell on it. He taught him everything that Dongho taught him, how to write and do basic math, he told him how flowers bloomed and seasons turned and why there were clouds in the sky. Jimin loved learning. Sometimes he’d wonder out loud what he’ll become when he’ll be older. Taehyung prayed that Jimin will grow old.

The kids bullied Jimin a lot and on rare occasions, when Taehyung wasn’t around, even beat him up. they’d gang up on him, turn his and his friend’s nest upside down and take whatever seemed worth taking. Sometimes they’d find candy, other times socks and new blankets and a sweater. Jimin would cry about it while Taehyung cleaned his bruises with rain water and told him not to worry, those things were from Mr. Liu and they didn’t need them anyway.

Mr. Liu never failed to visit Jimin and after so many times Jimin had gotten used to it. He’d shut his mind off, drift to someplace else, while the man kissed him and touched him all over. It wasn’t all that bad, after all. He never hurt him, just caressed him and made him blush. All he had to do was be good and he’d get a reward, something he could share with Taehyung maybe. Mr Liu cleaned him up with the cold water running from the old taps in the building and dry him with a rough cloth until his snow-white skin turned pink. Then he’d sit Jimin on his lap and talk to him, ask him about his day and what he was thinking about and while the child answer he’d run his hands all over him, keeping him warm and making him shiver at the same time. When they kissed Jimin felt weird and got extremely flustered but it was ok, he wasn’t in pain, it was ok.

Sometimes he told Taehyung about what happened but it always made his friend angry so after a while, he stopped.

They got used to the life there. They learned to focus on the tiny good parts, like when the sun shined sometimes or when there was plenty of snow in winter to have snowball fights or when uncle Byul made them tea or when Dongho taught them something new. Jimin had Taehyung and in the end, that’s all that he needed to survive and hang on to hope.

Then one night, when they were twelve and thirteen years old, Taehyung had gotten a bad cough from the constant rainy weather of late and he was feeling miserable while laying in bed with his friend. Jimin had given him his tea for that day but it only helped a little.

“Mr. Liu is coming to see me tomorrow. I’m gonna ask him to get you some medicine.”

“Fuck no, Chim. I’d rather die.”

“He’s not that bad, Taetae. I don’t want you to get sicker. I need you.”

“He’s been messing with you since you were eight, that fucking sicko, I don’t want anything from him.”

“Yeah, you say that but we’re warmer and eat better than the others because of him.”

“We’re surviving.”

“And we’ll keep surviving. I’ll play nice tomorrow and he’ll help us …”

“Jimin, please, don’t.”

“It’s not a big deal, ok? I kinda like it … He makes me feel nice.”

“He’s tricking you!”

“I don’t care. He’s not hurting me and he can help you. I’m gonna ask him.”

No amount of protests from Taehyung could convince Jimin to do otherwise. The next day, Mr Liu came as he always did and the younger was quick to run and meet with him. Taehyung was dejected when he snuck downstairs to see his hyung. It had been harder than usual to get there, having to stiffle his coughing every few minutes but he made it eventually and was surprised to find Dongho on the other end of the large basement, farther away from the other boys and girls there, with a laptop connected to a very unsafe looking plug.

“Hey, what’s all this?”

“Hey, kiddo. I got promoted I guess. Sit next to me. Is Jimin with …?”

“Yeah… Don’t wanna talk about it. Whatcha doin?”

“Setting up some deals. All this stuff needs to be sold more efficiently.”

“How do you do that?”

“Wanna learn something new?”



Jimin returned with a limp and with medicine later in the night than he usually would have. Taehyung waited for him, still praying desperately for his safety.

“Swallow this pill now and another in the morning. You gotta take it for at least five days.” Jimin said, his voice small and cracking.

“What happened, Chim?”

“I … don’t know.”

“Did that bastard hurt you?!”

“Shhh! No, he didn’t, he took extra care, made sure I was comfy.”

“What did he do?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, ok?”


“Take the pill and go to sleep. I’m tired.”

Taehyung didn’t want the pill but he also didn’t want Jimin’s hard work and sacrifice to go to waste. He also didn’t want to get so sick he couldn’t take care of him. This was for survival so he swallowed the bitter medicine dry. For survival.


Taehyung made it through his illness and he was endlessly grateful to his friend however he felt that the price he paid was far too big. Mr. Liu started visiting more often, dropping by unexpectedly and Jimin grew quieter and quieter after each meeting. Taehyung didn’t need to hear the words from his friend to know what was happening, he’s seen the older kids and Dongho had explained to him in embarrassed whispers what sex was. He also explained to him what rape was and how what the visitors did to the kids was in no way the same thing as what some of the older ones were doing because they wanted to. And sure, Taehyung had touched himself on a few rare occasions, he was curious and it felt good, really good. Dongho said sex was ten times better than that so no wonder Mr. Liu came by so often.

Jimin still insisted that he was not hurt in any way, that the man was treating him nicely. Taehyung couldn’t explain how that was possible. He wondered if Jimin was lying to him.


Their childhood went by them in a flash and so did their early teenage years. Their routine was pretty much set in stone with very minor hiccups. They were still cold and hungry all the time, something they came to accept and at times not even mind. They were still getting into fights at times, still getting whipped or roughed housed by the uncles. Dongho was teaching them both about computers and hacking and even started letting them do some things for him, on their own, they have gotten that good. And they still had each other, best friends for life as they said.

And as a best friend Taehyung knew Jimin better than anyone. He understood him, truly, better than the younger understood himself at times. He accepted the fact that Jimin’s faith in his mother’s return had shifted from hope to coping mechanism, he understood that Jimin needed to believe this even if deep down he knew that it was a lie. Taehyung never contradicted Jimin again when he mentioned it, he just nodded and told him that he was praying for that as well. That never failed to make his friend smile.

Taehyung also understood, in the end, after many awkward situations, that Jimin sometimes felt the need to act small, to be extremely childish and needy and just go to a place where he felt vulnerable but safe. He would hold him in those times or play pick-a-boo with him or sing him to sleep, for Taehyung it was like having seven-year-old Jimin back for a few hours. He didn’t mind it much, just found it a bit sad because he thought his friend was acting like this because he missed his childhood.

And, begrudgingly, Taehyung understood that Mr. Liu made him feel good. It was disgusting to think about it but over the years the man didn’t, indeed, physically harm the boy and he did always bring them necessities. There were a few winters they both knew they wouldn’t have survived through without the man’s help. But Taehyung still despised him and never gave up on his ambition to one day kill him.

This was also something new, this bloodthirst. Taehyung had a lot of anger built up. he’d take it out on random kids at times, fighting them in the mud until either his opponent passed out or Jimin dragged him away. Dongho taught him about the Mob, about how they were just small, insignificant cogs in a huge mechanism, things that others could use because they were replaceable, disposable. The only way to freedom was by becoming irreplaceable, useful. That was the eldest’s plan for escape, become so good at hacking and distributing drugs that the Mob would want him in their ranks. that’s why he taught the skill to the boys as well, so that they may have the same opportunity one day.


The year Jimin turned fifteen was the year Mr. Liu stopped visiting him. It was a relief for Taehyung but devastating for Jimin who felt tossed aside like an old rag, unwanted by the only person that had ever wanted him. He hadn’t felt this helpless since the day he had first arrived here.

Jimin fell into a sickening depression. Taehyung fought tooth and nail to bring him back to himself. He listened to him, cuddled him, shushed him when he cried for hours, let him be little and took care of him, praised him endlessly to boost his self-esteem and stopped him countless times from hurting himself.

He discovered Jimin had a makeshift knife the day the younger tried to use it on himself and end it all. It was the same day that he spotted Mr. Liu choosing a different boy from the yard, a younger one, a child.

Taehyung kept Jimin tied up for an entire day and stood by his side throughout it all.


“I didn’t wanna kill myself because I was jealous, you know ...” Jimin tells him the next day as Taehyung feeds him some bread soaked in tea. “It’s just that … seeing him with that kid made me understand how this must have looked from the outside. I was that kid and he made me feel safe and wanted and appreciated … but that was all a lie so that he could fuck me. He knew I had nobody, he knew he had all the power and I thought he was kind when in reality he’s just a monster. I’ve never felt so dirty in my life, Tae … Like he took something from me that I didn’t even realize I had. And now that it’s gone ...”

“He didn’t take anything from you, Chim.” Taehyung’s voice is stern. “You’re not something that can be cut up into pieces, broken apart, you’re a whole person. He can’t dirty you, he can’t walk into you like a house and break things. He hurt you, it’s true, but he didn’t change who you are. You will heal, you will grow, you will rise above this.”


“And one day I’ll kill him. So that he’ll never lay hands on another kid again. I’ll kill him with the knife you made.”

They never mentioned Mr. Liu ever again.


It was around the time Taehyung turned seventeen that Dongho warned him that things might take a turn for the worse. He told him about the Mob, about how there had been a huge conflict and the entire empire was now split in half. They didn’t know what was going to happen to the orphanage, who was still in charge of it, what did all of this mean for the kids there. Some of the older ones had already been recruited, they finally got to walk outside those walls alive and Dongho was left as a sort of leader for the remaining ones, supervising the drug packaging and distribution. He had high hopes of also leaving soon as he had planned for years. He was going to try and get Taehyung and Jimin out as well, tell the uncles about their hacking skills and praise them as his assistants.

But they never managed to see their plan til the end.

The regular visitors stopped showing up at one point and instead there were other people coming in, people that didn’t care about pretenses, they were there to fuck kids. The uncles would drag and whip them to go meet and get raped by these strangers every day now and hardly anyone was safe.

Panic set in quickly and as the children fought back as well as they could they ended up chained to the walls, to pipes, to each other, starved and beat into submission. Within a week the place had gone from nightmare to night terror.

Taehyung hid Jimin. He took their warmest clothes and blankets and hid his friend in the space between the walls down in the basement where Dongho could feed him once a day and give him some water. He told Jimin to be as silent as a mouse, to act like a ghost, no matter what he heard. Jimin had been too terrified to disobey.

Taehyung took on the consequences for this plan. When the uncles questioned him he made up a story about not being friends with Jimin anymore and having no idea where the younger was spending his time now. They didn’t believe him and tried beating the truth out of him. After a few days and plenty of blood, they decided that it would be a waste to let him die so they patched him up and had him take on twice as many visitors to make up for Jimin’s absence.

At seventeen Taehyung discovered that despite what he had told Jimin, people could break you down and change you after all. It was not so much the pain that made him fall apart but the sheer disgust of having somebody shove themselves into his body and empty themselves within it as if he were nothing more than a shell, not even human, just a thing to be had and used. He didn’t feel like he existed in those moments. Whenever hands would grab at his flesh and pull it apart his mind would disconnect and he would look upon himself like a spirit rising from a corpse. Those were indeed his hands going numb from the tightness of the bonds, that was his mouth trying to scream from behind the dirty rag shoved inside of it, those were his legs spread open and bruised mercilessly, that was his cock betraying him and pissing in fear, angering his visitor and making them hit his protruding ribs but at the same all of these did not belong to him anymore. That was the flesh of Taehyung being flayed, Taehyung himself was long gone, hiding what was left of him with Jimin in a wall, pretending to be ghosts while they waited to become real ones.

Months went by like this in a blur.

Taehyung snapped out of the torture he had detached himself from the day a pain sharper than all the others pierced through the haze of it all. The day they found Dongho’s body in a pool of blood in the basement.

Jimin told him it had been uncle Byul, Dongho refused to give him drugs and the man attacked him. Dongho had been giving Jimin his meals for days now and he was weak, didn’t stand a chance. He wanted to help, wanted to come out of his hiding place and fight but he had been too scared. Taehyung shushed him, held him in his frail, trembling arms and told him it was not his fault.

“This place is hell ...” the younger whispered. “I wanna die, Taetae, please, can’t we just die already?”

“Chim, you gotta hang on ...”

“I don’t wanna … there’s no point! Why should we live? What for?”

“We gotta get you back to your momma.”

“I don’t even remember what she looks like! I don’t even remember my last name!”

“We’ll find a way! Look, Chiminie, promise me you’ll hang on just for a couple of more days, ok? Just give me two more days and if I can’t get us out then ...”

“Then we use the knife.”

“Ok. Yeah. If we can’t escape then we die together.”


Taehyung didn’t know where he had found the strength to carry out his plan but he figured that this was probably his swan song, the last of him that he had to give and it was do or die at this point.

He hid for the most part of the following day. He lurked in the dark, wet areas of the old building, where only the rats dwelt and followed the people moving around by their shadows. He soon found uncle Byul and tread on his heels for the better part of the day. He waited until all the visitors had their prey for the day, until the screams were echoing off of every wall and the older man sat down with a can of beer in the basement and snorted a line of coke. That’s when Taehyung emerged from the dark and made himself known.

“Uncle Byul ...”

“You fucking bitch, we’ve been looking for you all day!”

Taehyung quickly fell to his knees in front of the man.

“I’m so sorry, uncle … please don’t be angry with me.”

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. Fuck, you’ve always been such a brat, ever since you were a kid.”

“And you’ve been nothing but good to me.”

“Damn straight, always was too soft with you ...”

“I wish I could repay you, uncle. Can I?”

“Fuck could you do?”

“My visitors taught me many things … they said I’m good.”

“You grew up pretty, you know, Taehyungie? All things considered. With that long hair of yours, if you washed up a little you could pass for a girl.”

“Do you want me to show you, uncle? Show you how good I can be?”

The man quirked an eyebrow, unsure of the offer. He wasn’t into boys, especially scrawny underage ones but Taehyung was different, he looked … well, he wasn’t sure what he looked like, neither boy nor girl, and wild, with his long unkempt hair and tattered clothes that revealed his prominent collarbones and tiny, tiny figure. Why not, in the end, it wouldn’t hurt anyone. This place was a cesspool anyway. Uncle Byul unbuckled his belt and Taehyung helped him pull down the fabric.

It was disgusting, sucking on a flacid, dirty dick and pretending like it was the best thing in the world. Taehyung would have worried he was going to puke but he had nothing in his stomach, a blessing in disguise. The man grunted, satisfied with his efforts and placed his huge, calloused hand on the back of his neck to push him down further, make him gag and suck harder.

Taehyung did his best to do what he always did and detached himself from the act, from the movements of his body that was arched beautifully and squirmed as if anxious to receive even more pleasure. He trusted his muscles to remember the right movements, like a ritual dance, while his mind ran to find an escape.

There were three keys on a ring sticking out of the man’s pocket, one shinier than the other, obviously from being used more often. It was fairly big, big enough to fit into the lock of a gate. He had followed uncle Byul all day and he was already aware of his habits from years of being around him. He knew he smoked but never inside, he had this paranoia about leaky old gas pipes so he always went outside to indulge in his vice. Today Taehyung finally saw where the exit had been for all these long years, a door at the back of the basement, then up some stairs along a narrow corridor and then a heavy, metal gate at the end of it. Beyond it was the outside world, freedom.

Taehyung grabbed the keys as the man came down his throat and cursed through the overwhelming sensation.

“Fuck… ah fuck, that was great ...”

Uncle Byul let his head fall back as he patted Taehyung’s, some sort of thank you gesture. Funny, this man had watched him grow up, had known him his entire life yet he only hesitated for a split second before using him up like any other predator that came to the orphanage. Had this man always been a sicko like Dongho used to warn him or had he become this way because of the time spent here? Taehyung wondered what did this mean for him. Had he always had this anger in him or was more than a decade worth of torture what made him finally snap and stab his imprisoner repeatedly in his throat, chest, face …? Taehyung didn’t know but he did know that with the blood covering him now was the warmest he had ever felt.

Once the man was dead he grabbed his lighter as well and ran towards where he had left Jimin hidden in the walls. He only stopped a few times, first when he found a sturdy old wrench and every time after that when he hit the gas pipes that were running throughout the entire building, making them split open where they were the weakest, where rust had eaten at them for decades and gas hissed out dangerously.

He finally reached Jimin.

“Chim, c’mon! Time to go!”

“Tae, what did you do?!”

“I’m getting us out like I said. We are not dying here, Jimin! C’mon!”

The younger’s legs were not cooperating, having sat crouched and tensed for so, so long. Taehyung grabbed him and hoisted him up, carrying his friend as they ran back towards where uncle Byul’s body lay motionless in a pool of blood and past him, through the door they’ve never seen before. Jimin could smell fresh air, faintly, coming from the end of the long, scary looking corridor, he clung to Taehyung, afraid to even hope.

“Shh, it’s ok, Chim. I’m ending this.”

Taehyung lit the lighter, watched the small flame dance for a second before throwing it into the room behind them. A huge burst of fire followed within a blink of an eye. He pulled the door shut behind them and ran towards the gate. He didn’t even fumble with the key, determined and resolute to escape. He heard Jimin gasp against his chest once the gate opened and they finally, for the first time, stepped outside. Behind them, the fire kept booming throughout the building as it met more and more of the gas leaking from the broken pipes. The roaring flames did nothing to cover the agonized screams that echoed as they always did in that place. Taehyung closed the gate and tossed the key.

“They’ll die ...” Jimin cries and Taehyung holds him closer, cradles him like a baby as he walks them away.

“They’re free now.”


Once they had gotten far enough for the fire to not light the way they walked through the dark, hand in hand, with only a vague sense of where they were headed. By morning they found the train tracks and followed them til noon when they came across an old station. They got on one of the empty cargo cars and finally slept. They reached Seoul as stowaways by nightfall.




As far as Taehyung was concerned they had also died that night in the fire. The Taehyung and Jimin that ended up in the capital were not the same as those that lived as prisoners in the old factory. This was a new beginning for them. And it was incredibly difficult.

For months they lived as they had so far, still in rags, hungry and cold. The streets of the city were overwhelming for Jimin so he often broke down and couldn’t go on for a few hours. At first, Taehyung begged but they got chased by police every time. Then he relied on the mercy of old ladies and the power of his puppy eyes. They slept in train stations, parks, parking lots, empty alleys.

One day they were munching on some apples a nice lady gave them as they were sulking on a bench when Jimin asked if 5500 won was a lot of money.

“Not really but it can buy us a few days worth of food. Why do you ask?”
“That’s how much I got off of that lady.”

“You stole from her?!”

“What? She won’t miss it, we’ve got nothing.”


That’s how they began pickpocketing. Small sums at first, just enough to kept them fed. It helped them immensely, they were finally gaining some strength and with that courage as they then began to steal wallets with bigger and bigger sums in them since they were also choosing their targets better. From wallets, it was only a matter of time until they leveled up to watches and telephones.

Living on the streets meant that they were part of a new sort of society made up of others like them. Poor teens and small-time thieves, drug dealers, prostitutes, homeless folk. Those were now their people. Jimin was weary of them but Taehyung quickly made friends.

“You know, your little friend is pretty.” Sojun the hobo tells Taehyung one day as they share a half empty, warm can of beer. “He could turn tricks around the bars uptown.”

“I’m not letting him do that. He’s been through enough. I need to find something that pays well but doesn’t involve people touching him. We gotta get off the streets before winter.”

“Well if ya got enough balls you could try one of the Kim clans. The lower one only hires professionals though.”

“And the upper?”

“Kim Seokjin’s just like his old man, he deals in anything. You said you’re familiar with the trade, the upper clan is always in need of mules and dealers. They sell everything from Molly and downers and other pharmacy shit to grass and jelly beans.”

“I’ll look into that then.”

“Still, sucking and bending over is easier if you ask me. You make the same amount of money quicker.”

Taehyung weighed his options carefully. He was getting stronger and smarter ever since he arrived in Seoul but Jimin was riding powerful waves of depression every few days. He’d refuse to eat and even move at times, he’d become nonverbal and childish, he wouldn’t sleep and he’d cry out of the blue. Taehyung needed to find them a shelter and soon before the cold winter took its toll and his dear friend.

He figured that he should compromise and make some sacrifices now to secure their more distant future. With that in mind, he left Jimin inside a MacDonald’s near a train station, someplace crowded and busy enough that nobody would mind him and asked him to wait, that he’s just trying something out and he’ll be back in no time. He bought him a milkshake and kissed his forehead.

“Good luck, Taetae. Be safe!”

“I will. Be good.”

He came back two hours later feeling nauseous but with enough money to cover half of a deposit for a small one-room apartment. Old man Sojun had been right, it was quick cash. Disgusting but efficient.

Within days they had a home. For the first time in his life, Jimin cried happy tears.


Many things seemed miraculous to the younger. Like how good hot water was, how nice it felt to be clean, it was unreal. Sleeping on a real bed for the first time since he was a child, listening to music on the radio. Everything made him smile and break down in tears. He hardly managed to get through their first home-cooked meal, he was choking on tears. Taehyung held him through all of it, shushing him and promising him that he’ll never let them starve again, never let them be cold again. The first gift Taehyung ever bought for Jimin was a pair of the fluffiest socks he was able to find. Jimin took great care of them. And the house. Sure it was an old, beat up place but Jimin made sure that it stayed clean and tidy. He loved it, absolutely loved it and if he could he wouldn’t leave the house for days on end. It was his haven.

Taehyung worked every night to ensure their livelihood. He called it work for lack of a better term.

Prostitution didn’t come easily to him but it was easier than what he had been subjected to back at the orphanage. He wasn’t half delirious with pain when the sex happened now, he wasn’t tied up and gagged and he was always paid handsomely at the end of it all. His body that he had distanced himself from put food on the table and kept them safe, it was labor like any other and Taehyung was willing to do whatever was necessary.

But Jimin, sweet gentle Jimin, couldn’t let him do it all on his own for much longer.

“I could work too, you know ...” he told his friend one late evening while he watched him smudge kohl around his eyes.

“We talked about this, Chimchim.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You aren’t.”

“I feel useless.”

“You’ve been through enough.”

“So have you! In fact, you’ve been through more. Because of me!”

“Chiminie, listen ...”

“No, you listen, Tae! I might act like a child at times and I know I have my ups and downs but please, I need to contribute too. Please. Let me do something!”

The conversation dragged on for days, often times spiraling into a full-blown argument. In the end, Taehyung decided to respect Jimin and his wishes. He still refused to let him go into prostitution so he had to arrange something different.

Out of everything available to them on the streets being a mule seemed like the safest bet. All he had to do was strap small bags of powder or crystal to his thighs or armpits and go for long bus or train rides all around the city. Pick the stuff up and dropped it off. Easy, simple, well paid. He was a delivery boy. He didn’t earn as much as Taehyung did but it was enough to give Jimin a sense of accomplishment, to make him feel like he was pulling his own weight.

And so an entire year passed.


Taehyung developed somewhat of a reputation. He was pretty in a very androgynous way. He kept his hair long, neatly tied back in a long ponytail and wore skin tight clothes and crop tops. He sucked dick without even gagging, he rode two dicks at once if paid enough and he dirty talked as if he could read minds. His price went up every month and he started to select his clients. He moved on from turning tricks at random street corners to scoping out clients outside the most popular and expensive bars uptown.

When the Sugarglider opened a lot of sex workers flocked to it. Taehyung was among them and business was good, absurdly so. He would walk past the line of partygoers waiting at the entrance and like bees to the honey at least one or two would follow him to the alley behind the notorious club. Once finished, he’d collect himself for a few minutes and pass by the line again to hook more clients. He would do up to five in a night. And they all paid royally.

One warm summer night, well past midnight, Taehyung was smoking after blowing three dudes in one go. He could still taste them on his tongue so he took an even deeper drag from his cigarette and kept the smoke in for a while before releasing it, blowing circles to entertain himself.

“Done for the night or still taking clients?” a friendly voice brought him out of his daze. The voice belonged to a gorgeous young man in a tailored white suit. Taehyung’s interest immediately peaked and he was quick to smile seductively and lean against the wall prettily.

“I can take on one more lucky man.”

“Business going well, I take it. Heard that you’re asking for one mil for a blowjob.”

“Quality service for those that can afford it.” Taehyung winked.

“You’re a luxury brand then. Indie, I guess. Or does anybody own you?”

“I’m a freelancer.”

“Cute. Wouldn’t you rather belong to a bigger franchise, though? Like the Sugarglider, you seem to be very fond of it.”

“I’ll be honest with you, you kinda lost me. All I know is how to offer pleasure. Pay me and I’ll blow your mind. It’s as simple as that.”

“We’re in the same trade, I too sell pleasure and temporary amnesia. But I do it on a larger scale. And I was wondering if you wouldn’t want to work for me rather than around me?”

“Who are you exactly?”

“Name’s Kim Seokjin. You might have heard of me.”

Taehyung froze at that moment. He had just run his mouth in front of the leader of the upper Kim clan. He had to apologize, do something … He put out his cigarette and was about to bow and excuse himself forever from the man’s sight but Seokjin interrupted his panic.

“Don’t fret, I’m not mad. I can appreciate the struggle of surviving on your own. Let’s make a deal: blow my mind, make me forget about things even if for a few hours and I’ll hire you at the Sugarglider and make sure you get paid ten times as much as you make now.”

Taehyung felt like he had no choice and took the deal.


The night he had spent with Kim Seokjin was the night Taehyung was sure of his death. He had been hurt before, countless times, viciously so yet he always had some semblance of hope that he was going to make it out alive. But not that time. When Kim Seokjin took him he felt swallowed by darkness. He experienced pain like he never thought possible as if the man had opened him to the core and started toying with the very fiber of his being. His body felt like a live wire and he was terrified, utterly terrified.

“You’re such a messy thing, aren’t you? Bleeding and pissing all over my floor, are you scared, hm?”

“Yes … yes ...”

“Do you want me to let you go?”

No, he didn’t. He couldn’t explain it in words, the world out there was so immense and complicated, the world outside of those four walls where he was locked in held his entire past, his present responsibilities, the realities of being who and what he was and the immense guilt of what he had done but Seokjin, Seokjin was simple, he was pain and atonement, he was solid and unmoving and with him Taehyung didn’t have to think anymore, didn’t have any responsibilities or burdens or memories, all he had to do was endure and obey. Easy. It was horrifying but at the same comforting.

He couldn’t move his arms nor legs as they were tied tightly and numb, his entire body was covered in bruises and cuts, red from the blood and swollen. He had tears and snot and drool running down his face and piss cooling on his thighs and legs, he felt like a ragdoll, completely at Kim Seokjin’s mercy. He looked down at himself with blurry eyes and he was painfully hard. He hadn’t gotten hard in years. Taehyung was delirious.

“You’re a sick one, aren’t you?”

“Yes ...”

“We match then.”

Taehyung’s mind went blank when Seokjin thrusted inside him. It was finally silent inside his head, all he could hear was the wet sound of skin against skin and their tangled labored breaths. It was pure bliss. Taehyung finally could allow himself to fall apart.

When Seokjin’s hands constricted around his throat he could hear his erratic heartbeat in his ears. It was the first time he heard his heartbeat, it sounded so alive, it felt so good.

“Harder ...” ha managed to whisper and through his everflowing tears, he could see Seokjin’s eyes go round in surprise and then the deadliest smile appear on his face.

He came for the first time in his life that night.


There was no escaping Kim Seokjin after that. He also had no desire to. Of course, Taehyung couldn’t just tell Jimin that he got addicted to the torture a madman was inflicting on him so he lied, told him that he got offered a job by the upper Kim clan leader himself and that refusing would be more than unwise. This was partly true as well and even though concerned, Jimin believed him.

Seokjin had Taehyung perfect his skills at some brothel in Cheonho under some girl’s supervision, Hyuna if he remembers well and then he’d have dance lessons with some dude called Taemin. Seokjin orders him to cut his hair and take care of himself better, wax all over, wear makeup, learn how to walk in heels. he’s immensely frustrated with it all at first but has a change of heart when Jimin asks him to make him pretty too.

“I’m jealous, ok?” the younger admits in a fit of giggles. “You’ve become so so beautiful and I still look like some troll doll.”

“What are you saying, Chim? You’ve always looked like a fairy.”

“Well, I want to look like a fairy with sparkly eyeliner and smooth legs.”

“Fine by me but don’t you start crying when I rip the wax off!”


Jimin loved Taehyung. To him, the older was family, his only family, his home. He knows he wouldn’t have ever made it so far on his own, he was ready to end it all so many times had it not been for Taehyung and his endless patience and protection. He wanted to be good for him, be a loyal friend, do his share of the work, pay him back somehow. Yet Taehyung was always working more than him, was always the protector and Jimin was always left as the one in need of help.

So when Jimin got offered the chance to run a risky trade in the lower Kim clan’s turf he took it. The pay was double his usual fee and he wanted to get something nice for Taehyung, a sort of thank you gift. He didn’t really think that he would get in so much trouble.

He had gotten jumped minutes before he was supposed to drop off the drugs. Five guys, if Jimin recalls well, beat him up bloody and took what he was carrying, leaving him half dead in a pile of garbage on a dirty alleyway.

Jimin thought that he was done for. Of course, weak, useless Jimin, never capable of fending for himself. What a fitting end.

He didn’t even register the shiny, luxurious car that had stopped a few steps away from him, hardly realized that someone approached him and was talking to him. His head was throbbing, blood dripping down into his swollen eyes.

“Who did this to a pretty little thing like you?”

Jimin tried to mumble a reply but nothing more than pained sounds left his lips.

“It’s ok, shhh. This world is so cruel, isn’t it? I’ll help you.”


It was lights out for Jimin after that and then just like in the movies, jump cut to him waking up in a huge, soft bed, clean and patched up. Nobody seemed to be around the expensive looking apartment. Jimin couldn’t really get up, he was very dizzy but he could see out the huge, floor to ceiling windows that he was very high up in one of the private buildings in the good side of town.

“You’re finally awake.”

Jimin turned towards the voice and … that was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. His face immediately heat up and he clutched the silky sheets once the man seated himself on the edge of the bed to speak to him.

“I’ve found you hurt in an alleyway yesterday, do you remember what happened?”

“I … I got attacked.”

“Did they rob you?”


“What did they take?”


“Other than the drugs, of course.”

Jimin bit his lip, suddenly sensing the danger.

“Don’t do that, sweetheart, you’re hurt enough.”

“Are you … a police officer?”

The man laughs and it’s the sweetest sound and oh dear god, he’s got dimples.

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh so hard … What’s your name?”


“Jimin. I’m not a cop, precious, don’t worry.”

“What’s … your name?”

“I’m Kim Namjoon. It’s very nice to meet you.”


When Jimin returns home Taehyung almost crushes him in his embrace. He’s crying almost hysterically, rambling about how worried he had been, how he looked and asked everywhere, how he was so desperate he was about to even contact the police …

“I’m sorry, Taetae ...”

“Never! Never do that to me again!”

“I won’t! I won’t! Promise!”

“God, Minnie, I could’ve died!”

That’s when Taehyung notices the man that Jimin had come with. He was standing by his expensive car, decked to the nines and waiting patiently for the two friends to sort things out and calm themselves before he could present himself. Taehyung didn’t need him to. He had heard plenty about Kim Namjoon.

“Can we talk?” the mobster asked and he knew something was up when he saw how brightly Jimin was smiling.


Looking back on it Taehyung still believes that it had been a good decision to let Namjoon have Jimin. He knew that the man could never love him but other than genuine affection he could offer him everything and after all that he had been through Jimin deserved everything.

The day Jimin left their small one-room apartment to go live with Kim Namjoon was the day Taehyung felt like he had finally accomplished something. He had protected Jimin, kept him alive, found him a home. It was not perfect but it was the most he could have hoped for.

Jimin had fallen blindly in love with the mobster and he was walking on sunshine every day because he got to be around him. Jimin would never be hungry or cold or miserable again. He finally had a fighting shot at life. Taehyung could pat himself on the back for that.

As for himself, he was left to deal with the demons on his own.

They still tormented him daily, the screams that rung in his ears as clearly as they did on the day he had set fire to hell itself, the cold that seemed to live in his bones forever now, the heavy guilt, the shame. Sometimes meth was enough to make him forget for a few hours, sometimes dancing distracted him from it all. Kim Seokjin, however, was the shock therapy he resorted to on the worst days.

He told himself that at least he helped Jimin live whereas he was still surviving. But it was fine, for now, it was all fine, he would take things one by one, eventually, he will get to where he was going.


Even though lately he found himself distracted by a pesky little thing called love.

Chapter Text

“Hey, little guy, what’s your name?” the tall man asks, leaning down over his mother’s rose bushes, smiling far too widely.

“Hoseok ...” he answers, clutching his football ball.

“How old are you, Hoseok?”

“Nine ...”

“Nine? What a coincidence! I’m Mr. Min, I’ll be your neighbor from now on and lucky you, I also have a son that’s nine.”

“Hoseok, who are you talking to?”

“Hello there!”

Hoseok watches as his father walks over and gets acquainted with the new neighbor, the two huge men shaking hands and squaring up. He has a bad feeling about the strange man, the same kind of feeling his father gives him.

Behind the shiny red car parked in the driveway, a tiny woman unloads boxes from the trunk and two kids are helping her. Hoseok thinks they’re twins at first but from the way the girl talks he can tell that she’s younger. The boy looks his way, his cat-like eyes rounded in surprise. Hoseok waves at him but the other doesn’t react. Instead his sister, that noticed their exchange, waves both her arms excitedly.

“Hi!” she shouts. “I’m Yoonji! This my brother, Yoongi!”




“It’s really kinda dumb your names match.” Hoseok tells the siblings as they kick the ball around in the Jungs’ backyard. Their mothers are chatting in the kitchen, baking something together, getting along so well you’d think they’ve been friends for years.

“Well, your accent is dumb.” Yoongi retorts, half-heartedly kicking the ball towards his sister that’s wearing sandals and clearly can’t aim in them.

“No, it’s not. I’m from Gwangju.”

“Where that?” the girl asks after sending the ball into a bush. Her brother rolls his eyes and goes to fetch it.

“Far from here. How old are you again?”

“Seven!” she announces proudly, sticking out the same number of fingers. Yoongi returns with the ball and hands it back to Hoseok.

“We moved here last year. Dad wants to have another kid and he said we’ll need a bigger house.”

“Pray that you don’t get a sister.” Yoongi warns him.

“I’m telling mom you said that!”

“See what I mean?”

Hoseok laughs. The girl was alright, a baby in his eyes, sure, but she wasn’t whiny and annoying like the girls at school. Speaking of which.

“We’ll be classmates, I think.”

“Good. I’m not good at making friends.”

“Me neither. Kids at school are shitty but dad blames me for not being nice to them.”

“You said a bad word!” Yoonji points out.

“Yoonji, what was our deal?” her brother grabs her hand.

“I can hang out with you if I don’t snitch to dad.” she recites.

“Yeah. And now that Hobi lets us hang out with him we don’t snitch on him either.”

“What did you call me?”




“Hobi!!!” Yoonji shrieks from the car’s window. “Come with us!”

Hoseok looks up at his mother that was struggling with the umbrella and her bag and getting a scarf around his neck. She always does so much for him.

“Mom, lemme go with Yoongi and Yoonji. I don’t want you to get a cold from the rain.”

“But it’s the first day of school, baby.”

“It’s the first day of school every year, mom! Stay home, make tea. We’ll be back right after the ceremony.”

“Eunjung-ah!” Yoongi’s mother also shouts from the car. “Let him come, I promise I’ll return him to you in one piece!”

“You can keep him if you want!” she jokes but smothers her son in kisses right after, watching him go and waving until the car leaves their little cul de sac.




First day at a new school was amazing for Yoonji, who proudly wore her new primary school uniform and did her best to make as many friends as possible and it was also pretty traumatic for Yoongi who immediately got picked on for his height and the stickers he let his sister use to decorate his schoolbag.

“Don’t let them get to you.” Hoseok advises him as they take their seats at the back of the class.

“I gotta start playing sports or something. Even my dad says I’m a midget.”

“Your mom’s pretty short.”

“So’s yours.”

“Yeah but mine feeds me milk like I’m a growing calf.”




They decide that year that they should join a sports club. Neither of them have any experience with sports other than kicking balls around all summer and riding their bikes. Yoonji suggests rollerblading and it takes them a few minutes to explain to her that that’s not a sport.

They’re all in Hoseok’s living room, browsing the sports channels hoping to spot something interesting.

“Yoongi, you’re interested in sports?” Hoseok’s dad comes from the kitchen, beer in hand and crashes on the armchair next to them.

“Yes, sir. I wanna join a club at school.”

“Good boy! See Hoseok, that’s what you should be doing too. How else are you going to grow up and be a man one day?”

“I’m joining too, dad. We just don’t know what.” he does his best not to roll his eyes.

“Yoonie says he needs to play something that makes him tall!” the girl outs her brother in one swift blow.

Hoseok’s father laughs and takes another long drag from his bottle before saying:

“Then you should play basketball.”


The following week the two boys are in the gym with the other two classes in their grade, waiting for the coaches to finish explaining how the teams for each sport will be formed, when the tryouts are, how they’ll need their parents signature to officially sign up … It’s boring. Yoongi was just telling Hoseok how his sister wouldn’t shut up about playing basketball too so their dad signed her up for something more appropriate for a “growing lady” which was figure skating and now their mom was freaking out because she thought that was dangerous.

“Let’s start with the tennis club. Who wants on the team?”

Yoongi was saying something about Yoonji needing ballet lesson too if she was gonna take skating seriously and Hoseok didn’t quite catch the end of that sentence because he yawned like a bear in the woods, stretching his hands up and arching his back, his eyes even watering a bit.

“Alright. Kim, Lee, Park, Choi, and Jung. Now, the football team. There will be two so that means 22 spots are available. Who wants to join?”

“I thought you wanted to play basketball with me.” Yoongi whispers.

“I do. That was an accident!”

“Tell them!”

“Are you kidding me? That coach’s an ass, he’ll make a huge deal out of it.”

“So now what?”

“Guess I’m learning how to play tennis.”




He did and surprisingly he was very good at it. Enough that he even earned a nod in recognition from his dad.

Yoongi also did pretty well but only after a few long months of warming the bench and secretly hoping for someone to break a leg or something. When he finally had the chance to play he gave it his all and managed to secure his position as a shooting guard. This made him pretty popular, enough to get the bullies off his back.

This wasn’t the case for Hoseok however who got even more picked on for wearing polo shirts and bandanas.

“They’re cute tho, I want one too.” Yoonji tells him as he walks her home from the skating rink, her skates around his neck and her bag in one hand while his own racket and schoolbag pulled on his back.

“That’s exactly why the guys make fun of me. They’re for girls.”

“But they’re blue so they’re for boys.”

“Who told you that?”

“The girls at practice make fun of me cause I’m the only one with a blue skating dress.”

“That’s stupid. Colors are just colors.”

“And bandanas are just bandanas.”

Hoseok laughs. Yoongi had told him the same thing. He buys Yoonji a blue bandana a few days later.

“What about me?” Yoongi pouts.

“You have one.”

“But I want a blue one so we match. I thought we were bros.”

“We are! I’ll get you one too, geez.”

“We’re the three bros!” Yoonji jumps up and down happily.

“You explain to her.” Yoongi shoots before Hoseok gets the chance.


They both dote on Yoonji. Yoongi more out of obligation, he is the official brother even though his sister always goes on and on about how she prefers her new brother better. They help her with her homework, walk her from school, from practice, give her treats, fend off the bullies. Yoonji feels spoiled and she loves it, would rather spend time with the boys than do anything else despite her father’s constant pleas to “act like a lady.”




Years pass and their bond only strengthens. Hoseok becomes regional champion at tennis and Yoonji wins three junior skating competitions. But the main event of their 5th grade year is Yoongi's national basketball semi-finals.

It takes place in Seoul and it’s the first time the kids get to see the capital. Of course, the Jungs and the Mins go together, the two families almost as inseparable as their children.

Yoongi wears the blue bandana, matching with Hoseok and Yoonji who are cheering for him from the sides.

“He’s gonna win, I know it!” Yoonji shouts at no one in particular.

“Basketball is a team sport, sweetheart, he can’t win by himself.” Hoseok’s father explains to her.

“I know but he’s gonna win the game for the whole team!”

“That’s not how it works, a single player can’t score enough for ...”

“Dad, she understands.” Hoseok intervenes.

“Not if you explained it to her, all you know is tennis and only up to regional level.”

Luckily the beginning of the match is announced on top of Hosoeok’s snarky reply and his father doesn’t hear it. Yoonji pulls on his arm, intertwining their fingers, calming him down.

Yoongi waves at them before getting into position and within seconds the intense game begins.

It passes in a blur of cheers and applause, both Hoseok and Yoonji almost losing their voices from the shouting, sweating as they keep jumping and waving at their favorite player. Their parents are seated behind the two excited children, the mothers fanning themselves and the dads constantly commenting on the game even more so than the official commentators. Yoongi’s team is leading by a great margin, their chances of winning growing with each passing minute as the game nears the ending.

that’s when it happens. Their small forwards gets blocked and hastily passes the ball to Yoongi who has nobody close by to pass it too. he’s just under the basket and he’s under pressure to do something. He’s good at scoring three points, he’s an accurate distance shooter but because of his height, he’s not good at all with slam dunks and lay-ups. Still he has no choice in the moment and just goes for it, jumping as high as he can. The other team’s guard looks surprised and also acts on impulse, jumping to slam the ball out of Yoongi’s hand. They collide midair and fall, Yoongi first and the other player on top of him. The ball circles the basket for a few tense moments and then falls through the loop. The umpire blows the whistle and Yoongi can’t follow what happens next around him, all he can feel is pain.


He had to get surgery done and was told that even though he could still play sports, it was highly recommended that he wouldn’t. The way the other boy fell on him not only dislocated his shoulder but also pulled his ligaments so much that they tore.

As they were sitting on the couch in the Mins’ living room, a few weeks later, watching TV, Hoseok peeling oranges for Yoongi as his sister slumped against his side, half asleep, he noticed that his best friend was crying. Not loudly, not even sniffing, just silent tears, rolling down his cheeks one after the other as his eyes stayed glued to the TV where a true crime reality show was on.

“Hey, are you ok?”

“I still have three more weeks of wearing this stupid cast.”

“Yeah but then you’ll never have to wear it again.”

“It’s not the cast that bothers me ...”

“Is it the no more playing basketball thing?”

“No… it’s this bastard!” Yoongi points towards the TV with his good hand and huffs.


“Kim Kangmin!”

“What’s a gangster gotta do with anything?!”

“Yoonie wants to kill him to make dad proud.” Yoonji says before snuggling closer, placing her head on Hoseok’s lap.

“I wanna be a cop and I can’t go to the academy with a busted shoulder.”

“That’s years from now. You’ll heal. And maybe someone else will take this guy down before you get the chance.”

“No, I gotta do it. Dad’s got a medal of valor. He won’t be impressed with me if I don’t take down the biggest criminal ever.”

“Dad’s just being mean.”

“He never says he loves me.”

“Hey, at least he doesn’t beat you.” Hoseok says with a small voice and before Yoongi gets the chance to ask he shoves half an orange into his mouth.




Mr. Jung never hit in places where the marks would later show. He’d yank Hoseok by his hair, dragging him across the house either down to the basement or to his soundproof study where the curtains were always drawn. He’d make the boy kneel on rice with his hands up for hours if the punishment was light and if it wasn’t. If Hoseok had done something his father considered severe such as breaking curfew, getting poor grades, talking back, he’d bend hin over a desk or a chair and whip his bare bottom with his belt or the long wooden ruler. If the punishment needed to be aplied quickly then he’d just swiftly punch him in the ribs or twist his arms behind his back. Hoseok never admited to anybody that he lost at the regional tennis tournament because of this.

The boy would take cold showers to ease the pain, would curiously press on his purple bruises and winch in pain, trying to get used to the feeling. It was nothing, he told himself, he was stronger than this. He never allowed himself to cry. He didn’t want to worry his mom, he didn’t want to give his father the satisfaction.




It was during a camping trip that the reality of it all came to light. Hoseok, Yoongi and Yoonji were fooling around the shallow part of a river while their fathers set up the tents and their mothers were preparing a picnic. The children were happily splashing each other with the cold water and they’d gotten pretty wet so the boys took off their t-shirts and Yoonji tied her skirt around her thighs to turn it into shorts.

“Oh my god, Hobi ...” she gasped.

That’s when he realized he hadn’t been careful enough, that he shouldn’t have taken off his t-shirt, his bruises on display for his friends to see.

“It’s not that bad ...” Hoseok started protesting.

Yoonji didn’t say another word, just quickly stepped on a few flat stones to get to him and hug him carefully. Hoseok froze in place, wanted to pry her off of him, tell her again that it was fine when another pair of arms circled him from behind. The Min siblings were bracketing him and he had never felt so safe in his life.

They didn’t speak, just hugged and hugged and listened to the birds chirping and the water flowing endlessly, caressing their calfs. Hoseok let himself cry. Yoonji cried too. Yoongi didn’t stop peppering kisses on his back until they could hear their mothers calling for them.


They shared a tent and in the darkness of the night neither of them could fall asleep. The entire day the two siblings had been nothing but gentle with him. They hardly talked, just ate and went for walks, Yoonji making flower crowns for the three of them and Yoongi never letting go of Hoseok’s hand. They stood on either side of him all day, even around the camp fire, shielding him in a way, guarding him. Hoseok’s eyes stung all day with the need to cry. And now they were listening to the cicadas and the distant cry of an owl and the rustling of leaves. It was the last summer before the boys began highschool. It was very warm, especially in the tent but they were all too lazy to move and open the zipper, let some air in.

“Are you sleeping?” Yoonji whispered.

She was laying on her side in just a tshirt, having shamelessly shimmied her skirt off, bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead, legs interwinded with Hoseok’s long, tan ones.

“I’m not.” her brother answered from behind their friend. He too was just in his long t-shirt he had sweated in the entire day and just a pair of boxers that clung to him uncomfortably. He was so hot it was sickening but he didn’t move a muscle, especially not to move away from Hoseok’s furnace of a back to which he was clinging on.

“Me neither.” Hoseok eventually replied. He felt smothered between the siblings but also protected, like their fire was that of a hearth in a cozy cabin in the dead of winter.

“It’s too hot ...” the girl complained, still whispering.

“Then take something off.” her brother said.

“I already took my skirt off.”

“Take your tshirt off then.”

“I’m embarrassed … You do it first!”

“Yoonji, for fuck’s sake ...”

“Don’t cuss at me!”

“We’ve seen you in a swimsuit before, it’s no big deal, just take it off ...”

“Shh!” Hoseok intervenes to silence them before the noise wakes up their parents in the tents just a few meters away. “Both of you take your clothes off and stop whining. We’ll get a heat stroke.”

“I’m not taking anything off.” Yoongi says.”Just open the zipper.”

“We’ll get eaten alive by mosquitos. Just take your shit off.”

“You too then!”

Hoseok turns to glare at Yoongi but it’s too dark for his friend to notice.

“No, thanks, I’m never getting naked with you two around again.”

“It’s too dark for us to see and besides, it’s too late, we already know.” Yoongi argues and begins undressing. Yoonji follows in a hurry, quick to cover her chest despite the darkness as soon as she is left wearing nothing but her underwear.

“You weren’t supposed to see that. Als,o you’re both freaks.”

“You can’t hide stuff like that from us, oppa, it’s not fair. And why are we freaks?”

“I don’t want my best friends knowing my dad beats the shit out of me almost on the daily. And you’re freaks cause your hugging me naked.”

“Get naked too, Yoongi deadpans. And we’ve got the right to know what’s happening to you. You’re our best friend too. We can’t have secrets like that between us.”

Hoseok huffs and instead of replying yanks his shirt and shorts off and tosses them to a corner of the cramped tent.


The two siblings only snuggle closer and it feels weird, their heated, sweaty bodies against his own, making him burn in embarrassment and heat, but it’s not the bad kind of weird, unless you count the way in which their fingers blindly traces his torso, making his bruises hurt. But Hoseok kinda likes that too, it’s pain but it’s also comfort. He reaches for their hands and craddles them right on top of his chest, over his beating heart.

“I’m dizzy...” Yoonji complains barely above a whisper.

“It’s the heat ...” her brother murmurs.

“It’s not just the heat, Yoons ...” Hoseok says and leans his head towards his friend. He can barely make out his features but he can see his cat like eyes shine more than usual in the dark.

“We love you, Hobi.”

“Yeah, we do.”

“I love you both too.”

They just breathe and their breaths are labored. Their entangled legs glide against each other from all the sweat, it’s uncomfortable but also whirling, they’re all light headed but it’s not entirely bad, as if they could pass out any moment but the repause would be nice, welcomed.

“We’re not gonna let anything happen to you, oppa ...”

“We’ll protect you ...”

“You don’t have to … I don’t … I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“Dad said we’re a burden.” Yoonji confesses and presses tightly to Hoseok’s side, not caring about the way her chest is exposed now, how it’s softly pushing against her best friend. “We heard him fight with mom once ...”

“He said he can’t take on any real missions, that we’re holding him back ‘cause mom’s weak and she wants him safe, that she doesn’t understand his life and his duty ...”Yoongi continues, mirroring his sister. Hoseok holds their hands to his chest tighter and listens. “He said he regrets having kids, that they never should’ve had us.”

“Mom’s very sick, oppa ...”

“She hides it but she’s really not well. He wants dad home, wants him to turn down his promotion to Superintendent. She says she doesn’t know how much longer she has … Dad told her he wouldn’t have gotten sick if she didn’t have kids. He never wanted us and he warned her and now it’s too late … we’re just some unremarkable burdens and she’s too weak to admit it.”

“You’re not burdens...”

“You’re not either, Hobi. Our dads are shit people but we can’t let them do this to us.”

“You’re our brother too.”

Hoseok lets the tears fall and so do the other two. It’s quiet, just a few sniffles now and again and they’re tired, so tired. It’s torid inside the suffocating tent and they’re in between sleep and lucidity.

Yoongi hooks his leg over Hoseok’s thigh and soon after Yoonji mirrors her brother, the two always each other’s shadow. The boy trapped between them bites his lip, tries not to react much to the feeling of Yoongi hardness pressed against his left and Yoonji’s wetness against his right. He tastes blood when he bites down harder to stiffle his groan when they both start slowly, slowly moving against him.

“Hobi ...” Yoongi’s breath is white fire against his shoulder.

“Oppa...” Yoonji whines, hides her face in the crook of his neck.

He can’t anymore so he lets out a pleading moan.

“Guys …”

“Shh … They’ll hear us.”

Hoseok wants to reach down, palm at his own straining boxers but he cant, his hands are trapped between the two, holding their hands to his heart, his wildly beating heart. They’re all panting and rutting against each other desperately, unthinkingly.

“Please … please ...” Hoseok begs, barely audible.

The siblings share a look in the dark, a mute conversation that always boils down to “if you do it, I’ll do it too.”

Their hands travel from Hoseok’s chest to his hardon, palming at it together, uncoordinated and embarrassed. Hoseok throws his head back, he’s so dizzy.

Yoonji shudders against Hoseok, legs trembling and tightening around his thigh and soon after that the two boys soil their boxers, shivers running up and down their bodies.




They never talk about that night. They don’t have to.

After it, whenever Hoseok gets another beating or the two overhear their mother sobbing into the pillows after her doctor’s appointments, they barricade themselves in their rooms and hug each other on the bed. Sometimes Yoongi and Yoonji hold bags of frozen veggies to Hoseok’s back and sides, sometimes Hoseok pats and kisses their heads as the two cry against his chest. Sometimes their hugging and crying leads to them doing more, humping each other, lost in their undiscussed heat until they find relief and manage to sleep without nightmares for once.




And it’s as if all the clouds have gathered in the sky ready for the storm once the boys begin highschool.

It’s not a big deal at first. Hoseok sneaks alcohool from his father’s stash as a prank innitially, even gets Yoongi to help him pull it off. They throw it out at first but then Hoseok suggest that’s a waste so he drinks it. Just a beer or two, then just a little bit of soju, just a glass of wine, just a sip of whiskey … It gets him drunk fast and Hoseok is fun when he’s drunk, he laughs louder, gets all clingy, makes Yoongi laugh along with him. Yoonji doesn’t like it, says it makes her feel weird seeing him like that.

“Like what?”

“Like your dad before he starts cussing.”

Hoseok only drinks more to forget about her words.

Alcohol makes him happier, alcohol makes things easier, including the pain, it numbs it out for a while. But he can’t always steal booze from his dad, especially since the man begins suspecting him and only beats on him harder, now that he’s growing and that’s when “all the bad habits stick for life.”

Hoseok learns how to smoke from the boys a year older than him and the class parallel to theirs. It keeps him busy and placated when he can’t drink.

“You’re gonna fuck up your health.” Yoongi tells him.

“I have no reason to be looking after my health. It’s not like I wanna grow old or something.”

Hoseok says things like that often now. Depressing shit that the siblings always call him out for and he’s quick to turn into a joke.




It rains heavily one night and Yoongi decides to study at home for once. Yoonji rubs at her eyes to stay awake with him, does some extra reading to not feel like she’s wasting time. The clock reads 1 am.

“Is the light on at Hobi’s?” she asks.

“Nah, he said he’ll be staying with his study group til late.” her brother replies, eyes not leaving the page he’s been working on diligently.

“That’s a lie, isn’t it? He’s not studying anything, he’s out in some bar.”

“It’s a pub.”

“We should go get him.”

“I think dad hates us enough for not getting into private schools, let’s not push our luck.”

“It’s not like he’ll suddenly start loving us if we get into a SKY university, might as well live a little.”

“Like Hobi is?”

“He’s lost.”

“And he’ll find his way back to us. You gotta trust him more.”

“I don’t. I don’t trust you either.”

“Fuck does that mean?”

“I know you started smoking with him. You both stink.”

“Ease up, will you? It’s not like I’m an athlete or something.”

“What happened to going to the academy? You need your health.”

“I’ll be fine. I just … I’d rather he be smoking with me than those dudes he’s been hanging with...”

They finally stop bickering and turn off the lights around 3 am, each shuffling to their half of the room, getting under the covers while still mumbling to themselves. How are they not twins? that’s when they both hear it, over the sound of rain hitting their window, something else, different. Yoonji goes to check and sure enough, in the tree that grows outside their bedroom window, there’s a drenched Hoseok. He smiles and signals for her to open up and she does. Yoongi helps him jump from the branch and into their room.

“Jesus, Hobi, what the fuck?” he whisper screams at him.

“Sorry, sorry, guys … I’m just … phew… too drunk to go home like this ...”

“You reek.” Yoonji complains while looking for a towel in her drawers without turning on any lights. Yoongi moves to help his friend take off his soaked clothes.

“Did you get into a fight?”

“Why… oh, the concealer came off, eh? Nah, that’s just good ol’ dad. He finally stopped caring if people see ...”

Yoonji wipes him down and Yoongi tiptoes to dry his hair. Hoseok giggles and thanks them.

“Hey, lets… guys, enough. Let’s cuddle, yah? I’m so fucking tired ...”

“I’ll set the alarm earlier, we gotta get you out before mom comes to wake us up.” Yoonji says and fiddles with her phone. “Which bed are you picking?”

“Picking … don’t make me pick between you two, you know I can’t ...”

The other two share a look at that. It’s been the elephant in the room for a while now.

“You gotta decide, Hobi.” Yoongi tells him.

“Pfff … Then I choose you this time, Yoons. Pretty, pretty Yoongi ...”

“You know what, just get in my bed and sleep. You’re way too fucking out of it.” he pushes Hoseok and he falls like a rock, still talking incoherently until eventually, the words turn to snores. The siblings are left to share a bed and no rest.




Yoonji gets kissed first and it almost tears her and Yoongi apart. The three have been together for so long, shared so many things, know each other so deeply, so truly, they can’t do this.

There’s tension between them now, there are lingering looks and touches and so, so many unsaid confessions. Yoongi swallows down his words so often that he forgets to speak at times, he grows more silent and sadder by the day. Yoonji makes herself smaller as a result, doesn’t want her brother uncomfortable so she stops giggling bubbly at Hoseok’s jokes, stops letting him pat her hair, stops cuddling him or texting him … They end up watching movies together sitting on three different chairs. Hoseok doesn’t sleep over at their house anymore, rarely even walks home with either of them. Yoonji tells him their kiss was a mistake and to forget about it. He readily does and mentions nothing of Yoongi and his obvious conflict.

“Did we ruin us?” Yoonji asks her brother during another late night study session.

“We’re not ruined.”

“We’re acting like strangers.”

“We can’t both love the same person, Yoonji.”

“I know but now he loves neither of us.”

“He does love us, just not like that.”

“I can’t love him any other way ...”

“Me neither … But I’d rather we stay friends than lose him completely.”

“So what do we do, go back to how we used to be?”

“Let’s allow him to return to us first. I think we might’ve pushed him a little too far ...”




Hoseok gets lost even more before he finds his way back.


Mrs Min gets sicker and sicker and she’s often in the hospital. She goes through several surgeries, has her entire uterus removed in a desperate attempt to tear the cancer from her body. Mr Min burries himself in his work, leaving his two kids to tend to their mother and the house. Hoseok feels useless to them, he can’t help, he can hardly help himself.


He stays away. Away from his own home where all that awaits him is his scared, disappointed mother and his father’s fists and insults and away from his friends’ home where all that lingers heavy in the air is sorrow and despair.

He can’t change anything about it, watches the dark clouds gathering above the two twin houses and wonders if they’re real or his imagining them because once more he’s drunk out of his mind.




It’s the last year of highschool and Hoseok should be in math class with Yoongi, trying to study enough to at least get into some college, any college. But in stead he’s hiding in the bathroom stalls with Jongin, a kid two years younger than him that buys him cigerettes when he has no money left and sucks his dick without asking too many questions. Hoseok really started hating questions.

Like is he really in love with Yoonji or is it just easier to think that way instead of admiting to jacking off to her brother? Does it count as being gay if a boy sucks his dick or is it gay only when you are the one doing the sucking? And why is he here getting blown instead of studying? How bleak is his future really? Shouldn’t he just end it all? Who would even miss him? Would Yoonji miss him? Would Yoongi miss him more? Oh and …

“What on earth is going on in here!?”

Jongin chokes around Hoseok’s cock and almost pukes when the teacher catches them.

The principal put him in detention. His father put him in the emergency room.


Nobody visits him the first two days he spends in the hospital. He gets a phone call from his mom, she apologizes to him, says his father forbade her from visiting to teach him a lesson, says she hopes that he does learn from this, that he’ll stop disappointing his father so much so they can go back to being a family again. Hoseok hangs up on her. He texts Yoonji, tries to joke about everything, “ I get knocked out and you’re the one with amnesia? Forgot about me?” but she doesn’t reply. He calls Yoongi and it goes straight to voicemail.

On the fourth day Hoseok loses all hope, figures that he’s finally been trully abandoned by everyone and he somehow deserves it.

It’s late in the afternoon when Yoongi arrives. He looks hallow and he’s wearing all black. Hoseok winches but does his best to stand up and greet his friend. Yoongi gestures to him to stay put and he sits on the edge of the hospital bed, dumping a bunch of fliers on his lap.

“What’s ...”

“My mom died.” Yoongi tells him and Hoseok freezes. “Here’s what’s gonna happen: you’ll get out of this hospital and come with us to the funeral and you will hold my hand and Yoonji’s hand because we are falling apart right now and we need you. You’ll be in pain but we need you to pull through for us. Then you’ll stop drinking and I’m going to tutor you as best as I can these following weeks. Dad is sending Yoonji off to a private school and you are coming with me to the police academy. I don’t care what your dad will say about this, I am not going anywhere without you anymore. And when we all finish school we’re going to find ourselves an apartment in Seoul somewhere and live together like the freaks that we’ve always been and get our shit together and kill mobsters and have a fucking good life.”




There’s not a cloud in the sky when they graduate. Hoseok expects a white dove to come from the blue and drop an olive branch on his head, he’s found solid ground at long last. His mother comes to his graduation and tells him she’s so proud of him and she’s sorry, so so sorry for all the years that she had been a coward, too afraid to see the truth.

“I’m leaving him, Seokie. I wish I could have done it sooner, I wish I had protected you ...”

Hoseok feels like he finally has his mother back.


“I’m proud of you, son. You’ll make a good police officer one day.”

“Actually I’m also enrolling in post-grad. I’m gonna be an elite agent, dad.”

“Are you sure, Yoongi, I mean, it’s pretty difficult ...”

“I finsihed first, father, in case you’ve missed that part where I got a special award for it. It’s not too difficult, actually nothing is too difficult because I’ve discovered I’m good enough to pull through. You can keep on doubting me, as you’ve done your entire life and I’ll keep proving myself over and over again as I’ve done since I was a child. Now excuse me, I gotta go celebrate with my sis and best friend.”


“You two are so handsome in uniform...” Yoonji giggles and her cheeks are bright red. She empties her 6th glass of soju and leans on Hoseok’s shoulder. He immediately wraps his arm around her.

“You mean to say we’re hot.”

“Stooop! You’re my brother, I can’t say that!”

“Then I’ll say it for you. Hobi and I are really fucking hot!”

“Yoons, you’re piss drunk!” Hoseok laughs.

“And you’ve got washboard abs and I’ve seen them and sis didn’t so ...”

“So what? You forget I got to kiss Hobi and you didn’t!”

“Hey, Mins, shut up! You’re both such freaks ...”

“I’m moving in with him next week, demon.” Yoongi insists and points his full glass at her before emptying it in one go.

“Yeah, three room apartment, like we’ve talked! Soon as I’m graduating I’m moving in!”

“That’s years from now! Med school takes forever, you’ll be all saggy and grey haired by then ...”

“Could you two not talk as if I’m not here? Hey!”

“Sorry, Hobi, sorry … we’re gonna clean this city, you and I, yeah? We’ll take down the whole Mob!”

“Can’t wait to be pulling bullets out of you, bro!”

“See how evil she is? Why would you choose her over me?”

“I’m choosing both of you! Now shut up already!” Hoseok laughs and pours them another round.




Yoongi carries his unrequitted love with him for years like a small vial of poison he’s afraid of breaking. He tip toes around it, doesn’t talk about it as if speaking it into existence is too dangerous. It’s risky, it’s always been risky. One wrong move and it could all end up in a tragedy.

That’s why he calls his sister daily to reassure each other, to talk like the only people in the world that know the secret. That’s why he focuses on work and avoids getting distracted, as if one wrong move could make this fragile house of cards come tumbling down. That’s why when he leaves to go undercover he doesn’t kiss Hoseok. He throws himself to the lions but rests easy knowing that he still has something to return to.


Until he doesn’t. He’s five murders deep when he feels like this mission has taken an unexpected turn. Seven in and he thinks he’s losing himself. When the pile of bodies gets too big to even count Yoongi feels like he doesn’t deserve to come back to Hoseok like this. He hears his father in his sleep, calling him weak, calling him a failure allthewhile being completely unsurprised.


It does things to Yoongi, being part of the Mob. Yeah, he’s on a mission, yeah, he’s there to infiltrate and get as much info as possible to take the bastards down but at what point is he doing things because he needs to protect his cover and not because he just feels like it? There’s so much rage in him, since when has it been there?




“I’ve wanted to beat my father up ever since I was a kid. I hated him more than I even realized, especially when he berated not only me but my sister as well. I wanted to cut his tongue off after I’ve heard him call my mother weak and stupid while she was struggling enough with her illness and trying to keep our family together. I wanted to kill him when he didn’t even shed a tear at the funeral.

I also always wanted to kill Hoseok’s father, for obvious reasons.

Heck, I wanted to kill myself many times too.

But I had to stay strong, kept telling myself that if I proved myself, if I was good enough then maybe dad will be good to us then, maybe Hoseok would love me, maybe I could like myself as well …

But the more people I’ve hurt and killed while working for Namjoon the more I realized that I wasn’t worthy of anything, especially not love. Things were so dark back then, I was even forgetting at times that I was on a mission, I just drifted day after day.

Until I saw you. You were the purest thing I’ve ever seen, the only good thing, untainted, honest. You see, people like me, we go through shit and the shit sticks to us. Not you though. You’ve been through hell and back from what Namjoon had told me and yet you stayed spotless. You were still good and kind and open …

I thought I had loved Hoseok for years, and I did, surely. But I adored you. I’ve fallen so hard for you it was as if I had lost my mind. I had finally found goodness, light. I couldn’t let go of that. So that’s why I joined the Mob.”

Jimin tries to blink the tears away but fails miserably. He lets a few fall before he wipes the rest away with his sweater paws.

“I don’t deserve your love ...” he says in a small voice.

“You deserve far more than what I can offer you.” Yoongi tells him and he looks so serious too, he is serious. “I’m not Namjoon, I know, and trust me when I say, I’m well aware that I’ll never be good enough but ...”

“Don’t say that.” Jimin interrupts and frees his tiny hands from the sweater to hold Yoongi’s. “You’ve been telling yourself that your entire life and it’s not true. Look at how far you’ve come! You’re amazing! I’ve watched you grow through the ranks and come up like a storm, it was scary. I was always so sure that you were gonna take Namjoon down. He never believed me when I warned him. He underestimated you just like everybody else and they were all wrong. And you told me, remember? You told me yourself that there’s one thing you can give me that Namjoon never could.”


“Freedom. I want it, Yoonie, don’t you? I finally want to be free.”

Chapter Text

“What the fuck do you mean he left?!” Yoonji was this close to snapping.

“He mailed his resignation letter on the day that he got discharged from the hospital.” Superintendent Choi explains once again, leaning back in his chair, watching the young officer pace around his office like a trapped lion. The rest of the team are also watching her, slightly embarrassed.

“He didn’t get discharged, he discharged himself and then vanished!”

“Yoonji-ah, I suggest you calm down a little and ...”

“Like I could fucking calm down! Really, Dr. Kim, you’re a shrink, do you think that someone like Hoseok would just up and leave out of the blue?!”

“He called all of us, tho.” Hyolin explains.

“You sure he didn’t just have some beef with you?” Hyejin adds carefully.

“No, why would he ...”

It made no sense to Yoonji, how could Hoseok just resign and vanish? It was impossible. Yet nobody seemed too surprised, they’ve all said they had talked to him before, that he did let them know that he was quitting and going back home. Yet he hadn’t gone home, Yoonji called his mother and she said she hadn’t heard from him in weeks. This was all far too suspicious and yet nobody acted as if anything was out of place, it made her look as of she was insane.

“Honestly, we got bigger fish to fry.” Jessi finally intervened. “I know that Hoseok was a crucial part of our team but we can’t just stop because he isn’t here anymore. I’ve arrested a man, we need to get as much out of him as possible and fast so if we could all just take a deep breath and get our heads back in

the game, that be great.”

“Yeah… fuck, let’s do that. Sorry guys.”




The man in their custody didn’t look a day over 30 yet there was a weight in his gaze that gave away just how much he had lived through at his young age. He had a strong jawline, always clenched, always biting back words, keeping his roars within much like a circus lion, he is still very much untamed. His hands were the hands of somebody that worked, that punched his way through difficulties when everything else failed. This was not a man that was willing to crack or bend for anyone.

Jessi and Yoonji sat opposite him at the same old interrogation table where so many have sealed their fate before. They too were not women that easily broke or bent so this was very much a standoff.

“Name?” Yoonji asked.

“Wang Jackson.”

“That’s not what your id says.”

“I’m a Chinese citizen.”

“You’re an illegal immigrant, much like your father.”

“And his father before him.” Jackson smiled and it was bitter. “Countries don’t welcome poor, uneducated people, they offer chances only to those that they deem worthy, people that already had a shot anyway.”

“What was your father’s occupation?”

“He worked in transports. Heavy duty loads, drove trucks cross country.”

“And you? What is your job?”

“Same as my old man.”

“Didn’t know being a truck driver paid well enough to afford a Rolex.”

“Actually it’s a Chopard.” Jackson laughs and wiggles his wrist to make the diamonds on his watch shimmer.

“Can we cut the bullshit, Mr Wang?” Yoonji leaned in looking him straight in the eyes. “Your father ran guns for the Kim clan back in the day and now you are doing the exact same thing for Kim Namjoon. You smuggle them from suppliers in China and assure transport and distribution in the name of the lower Kim clan across the country and the rest of the continent.”

“And the US.” Jackson adds.

“You are well aware that despite the fact that we have names and numbers, we don’t know anything about the routes you use and we haven’t caught any of you doing business in the last ten years. Everybody knows yet nobody can do anything about it. You know Jessi can’t hold you here for more than 24 hours, you know you’re going to walk away a free man even if we do call Immigrations because you most likely have ties with them as well.”

“Exactly. So why are we even here?”

“Because one day, five years ago, you were desperate enough to actually call the police for help.” Jessi deadpans and leans back in her seat, carefully watching as Jackson’s confidence wanes.

“That has nothing to do with anything today.” he defends.

“Your baby brother had been kidnapped, am I right?” Jessi continues unfazed. “You looked everywhere, had your men searching, had Kim Namjoon’s men searching and still nothing. You gave in and called the police but it was already too late. You’ve never seen him since.”

Yoonji is surprised to notice Jackson’s eyes gloss over with hardly held back tears, the man’s hands strongly clasped together, trying to contain himself. He only nods and waits for them to continue.

“How much do you know about the Kims gun running business?”

“Almost everything.”

“And can you also prove what you know?”

“Everything. I always keep receipts, as they say.” he smiles half-heartedly.

“If we find out what happened to your brother, are you willing to testify in court against the Kims?”

“I’d testify against god if that would bring my brother back to me.”




Hyolin leaned back against the plush armchair and rested her feet on the fluffy footstool. She had been served a delicious cherry flavored cocktail and was told to make herself comfortable, the girl would be joining her momentarily.

It had been an ordeal to book this girl, the waiting list was so long that people were biding over earlier slots. And now that she was here she understood where all that money was invested into. The interior of the brothel was incredibly luxurious and decadent, a stark contrast with the neon, modern exterior. This room, in particular, was decorated in some Moroccan imitation style and the colors were so rich and vibrant, it made Hyolin feel like a sultan waiting for the most prized belly dancer. Speaking of which, the young girl just walked in and sure enough, she was wearing lace lingerie and a sparkly, spider web thin veil over her beautiful, dainty figure. She was a vision and she wasted no time in placing herself on Hyolin’s lap, taking a sip from her drink and apologizing for making her wait. She was leaning in for a kiss when Hyolin quickly placed a finger on her red lips to stop her.

“Too soon?” the girl giggled.

“Too late, more like. I already have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I don’t kiss and tell.”

“You don’t have to, she already knows I’m here. She actually was the one that booked you.”

“I love an open relationship.” the girl giggles once more.

“Yeah, you would, wouldn’t you? Though the last one you’ve been in hadn’t worked so well, had it? What with one of your lovers being a deranged criminal.”

The girl pulls away, brows furrowing in worry but Hyolin holds her tightly with a hand around her hips.

“Who are you?”

“You can call me Hyolin. You are one hard girl to reach, Kim Hyuna. There are very few people that know about you and Hui and how you two were involved with the drug dealer known as E’Dawn.”

“His name was Hyojong and he was a beautiful soul, not just some drug dealer!” Hyuna struggles in her hold but her tiny self is no match for Hyolin’s strength.

“A beautiful soul that almost killed my partner. He shot up the police department, babe, you can’t tell me he was all there when he did that.”

“He had lost it because of Master Kim, because Master Kim never acknowledged him, always treated him like dirt and had him feeling miserable all the time ...” Hyuna cries out and gives up struggling on the officer’s lap, overcome with grief.

“Master Kim… that would be Seokjin, right? Did he give the order?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know ...”

“But you do know things, don’t you Hyuna bae? You earn more in a week than the entire brothel in a month. You’re a star here and your remaining boyfriend runs the whole ring. People talk you know? Word on the street is that not all of the establishments are legal, not all the transactions taking place here are purely sexual.”

“You can’t arrest me, I did nothing wrong!”

“Don’t you want out, girl? Honestly. Don’t you want a future beyond working for fucking Kim Seokjin?”

“He saved me when he gave me this job.”

“He also made you pay for that one act of kindness and you’ve been paying your whole life. I think you can call it even.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Talk to your man and if you both come to the conclusion that you want out then call me. Don’t let Kim Seokjin send you to your grave as well.”

Hyuna only blinked through her tears and said nothing. She took the cocktail from Hyolin’s hand and downed it in one go. When she felt the officer easing her grip on her she slid off her lap and dallied towards the discreet door to the side.

“What happened to Hyojong’s body?” she asks, hand already on the handle.

“Unclaimed bodies get cremated and tossed into an unmarked common grave.” Hyuna sniffles and averts her eyes. “But I asked them to put aside his ashes, told them I know someone will come get them soon.” Hyuna looks at her then, lips trembling, unsure of how to react to such kindness. She nods and opens the door and stops and nods again, more to herself, before leaving like a shadow, just as she came in.




Hyejin knocks and knocks for a long time and she’s not even expecting an answer by this point. It was a long shot at best but she had poured hours and hours of investigation into the seemingly endless lists of names upon names. People that work or have worked for the Kims, people that do or have done business with them. Almost all of them men, almost all of them involved in illegal actions. Not this one though, this woman was different.

Hyejin was about to step away when the door finally opened.

“Yes?” the woman was hiding behind the frame, ready to snap the entrance closed at any moment.

“Choi Sooyoung?”

“Yes. Who are you?”

“I’ve recently heard about your mother’s passing. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. Can I help you with anything?”

“You’ve worked for Kim Seokjin, haven’t you? As his maid.”

“Only briefly. Who are you again?”

“It wasn’t briefly, it was for almost a year and your mother’s treatment depended solely on his kindness.”

“He was very generous.”

“Until he wasn’t.”

“I don’t know where you are trying to go with this, please excuse me.”

“My name’s Hyejin and I’m with the police department.” she flashes her badge before the woman gets the chance to close the door in her face.

“Miss Sooyoung, it’s time to stop hiding. You’ve lost everything because you put your trust in Kim Seokjin. I want to make sure nobody has to suffer at his hands anymore. You’ve got nothing left to lose because of him, so please. Let me come in and talk to me.”

She can see how the woman’s face changes from alarm to sadness to hesitation and eventually anger. Hyejin smiles. Good. Anger is what she wants to see from the victims, anger and need for justice. Sooyoung opens the door widely and steps aside inviting the officer in.




Yoonji brought the mug to her lips only to discover that it was empty once more. She pondered whether seven coffees in one day was too much but considering that it was fuck o’clock past midnight and she and her team were the only ones left in the police station burning the candle at both ends she figured what the hell, might as well and she poured herself some more dark, cold coffee.

She was going through the tech team’s report on Hoseok’s laptop. Indeed the thing had been hacked to hell and back, the perpetrator impossible to trace which led the geeks to label him as an expert, the type that could break into the government’s mainframe but preferred to send email viruses for kicks.

Yoongi was good with computers but he was by no means a hacker. He surely must have gotten help.

The deeper Yoonji dives into the case the farther she feels from her brother. Who had Yoongi become over these past years he’s spent amongst criminals? Would she even be able to recognize him anymore? And what in god’s name had happened four years ago that made him shoot Hoseok? Hoseok … where had he vanished to? Why ? God, why ?

“Are you alright, Yoonji-yah?”

“Sir ...”

She hadn’t even noticed the Superintendent walk up to her desk, too absorbed in her own sorrow and worries. He was tired as well, jacket discarded somewhere, shirt sleeves rolled up, tie undone. He was such a beautiful man …

“Are you sure? Your face is red.”

“I’m fine … Just tired, is all.”

“Go home, Yoonji. There’s nothing here that you can do by yourself. Have a go at it again tomorrow, with your team.”

“My team … Sir, can you be honest with me?” she asks, standing up from her seat, unsure if she wants to leave or just sleep on the couch at the station.

“Of course.” the man says and walks up to her, ready to catch her in case she gets a dizzy spell.

“What did Hoseok tell you? When he … quit.”

“Not much. Said that he was exhausted and needed to step away. He wanted to transfer to Gwangju before you showed up. I guess now things have become even more difficult for him, he must’ve reached a breaking point.”

Yoonji scoffs at that and she grabs her desk when she feels a bit light headed. Perhaps seven coffees were indeed too much. The Superintendent puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. She smiles bitterly but doesn’t reject the gesture.

“I’ve known him since we were children. Hoseok doesn’t break. He suffers like a dog but he never breaks.”

“You’ve asked me to be honest and I am.”

“You’re a good man, Sir, I believe that truly. An honest man too. And that’s why people like you can’t trust people like me or my brother. We’re just too fucking shady. We think that we know what’s best and we have at it on our own, disregarding anybody else. Loose cannons, right? You’ve called me that before as well.”

The hand on her shoulder tightens its grip before letting go, Siwon entire body pulling away from her with a scowl.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you don’t trust me, not anymore at least. You’re all still working with me, still hard on the case but none of you are being truthful to me. You’re all hiding something.”

Siwon doesn’t say anything at that, just adjust a paper on the desk, distracted while looking for the right words to say.

“Kim Seokjin visited you when you were in holding.” he doesn’t even look at her when he says this.

“And the next day I get out, scot-free, not a charge to my name.”

“What deal did you strike with him?”

“I gave him useless information. I would never endanger our mission.”

“You already have. The second you proved to him that we are corruptible, you have.”

Yoonji bites her lip at this, anger starting to build up in her like a fire. They were the ones that had her arrested for saving everybody, they were the ones willing to take her badge away for putting her life on the line to save theirs, Hoseok got shot again because nobody aside from her acted when danger arose. And after backing her into a corner, labeling her a criminal they still have the audacity to accuse her of being corrupt when she had no other choice but to compromise for the sake of the mission.

“Do you know what the new attorney general told me? He said to never bother him again with accusations against Min Yoonji. That’s how far Kim Seokjin’s influence reaches. Who am I to trust anymore if even the justice system is compromised?”

“I’m not a dirty cop, Siwon-ssi.”

“I know you’re not. But I also know that you would stand at nothing to do what you think you have to do. You’re the type that walks on corpses, Yoonji.”

“Is that it? I scare you?”

Siwon chooses silence once again. He sighs, deeply, exhausted and moves to leave.

“Where’s Hoseok, Siwon-ssi?”

“Go home!”

Yoonji trashes her desk in a fit of rage before eventually collapsing on the couch in the break room. She’s never felt more alone.




She woke up the following day to the sounds of the entire police station bustling around her, people on their phones, moving around, the coffee machine working nonstop and shouts from the few morning drunkards brought in for disturbing the peace.

“Wake up, Min, this ain’t your damn hotel room.” somebody says and kicks her legs. She spits back some expletives and groans while rubbing her face to chase the sleep away. She manages to sit up but she’s got a splitting headache. Last night’s conversation plays back in her mind and soon enough misery is back in her chest like it pays rent to live there.

“Somebody’s woken up on the wrong side of the bed.” a sweet voice is next to her. When Yoonji lifts her heavy head to see who had sat down by her side she almost screams.

“Well, that’s just rude, Yoonji-yah. You can just say hi.” Seokjin comments with a pout.

“What are you doing here?!” and how come nobody was at all bothered by this? In fact, one of the officers even hands him a hot mug of coffee before politely excusing himself.

“Fuck, I should’ve known better … Of course …”

“Should I ask for some coffee for you as well?”

“How many are in your pocket?” Yoonji asks, holding her head in her hands.

“About half of the station.” Seokjin smiles and carefully sips on his coffee. “The other is Namjoon’s.”

“Why are you here?”

“Why was an officer at my brothel the other day?”

“Why don’t you ask her yourself since you own half of the task force anyway?”

“Ah, Yoonji-yah, should you really be speaking to me like this?” he leans in and Yoonji is used to this by now, she knows that this is what he does when he wants to intimidate people, crowds them in, makes them feel small, vulnerable. She knows yet it doesn’t fail to work, her shoulders hunching protectively as her hands grab her elbows, holding herself instinctively. “Little doe, did you forget that you owe it to me that you can even crash on this dirty, old couch?”

“I gave you what you wanted ...”

“True and that has worked out fine in both of our favors so ...” Seokjin holds the mug with one hand and gently cards the other through Yoonji’s messy, stray locks, trying to soothe them into place. She freezes, her breath hitching in her throat. “Tell me what my Hyuna is up to and I’ll tell you the latest news on your brother.”


Seokjin chuckles and stops petting her hair, letting her process his request while staring at him with big eyes.

“Is my brother ok?”

“Is my Hyuna up to no good?”

“No, no, that’s not why we sent an officer ...” Yoonji scrambles for ideas. “The lab identified the body by DNA and we put in a request to have the remains kept until someone claims them.”

“That’s very sweet of you. Is that all, little one?”


Seokjin gives her a look that is meant as a gentle warning. Yoonji shivers.

“That’s all, I promise.”

“I believe you, Yoonji-yah. You wouldn’t lie to me, you’re too smart to do that, aren’t you?”

“I don’t want any trouble ...”

“Of course you don’t. And neither do I. That’s why it’s important to be fair with each other. Do you want to know about your brother?”

“Yes, yes please.”

“He’s not working for Namjoon anymore.”


“Unlike you, he’s not as smart. He wasn’t fair with Namjoon and he got dismissed. I can’t tell you if he’s on the run or not but I know Namjoon and I can promise you his blood runs icy cold. Your brother is not safe.”

“Where is he? Do you know?”

“In hiding, I assume, with Jimin. It’s just them against the lower Kim clan.”

Yoonji has shivers going up and down her spine, prickling her fingertips. She wants to do something, needs to, but she has no clue what and how, her brother’s in danger, Yoongi is in danger and Hoseok is not here to help her, nobody can help her because nobody trusts her anymore …

“C’mon now, little doe. Say the words.”

“Seokjin-ssi … “

“Tsk tsk.”

“Master Kim … please… can you help my brother?”




Yoonji remembers the first time she went ice skating. It had been incredibly fun, she had Hoseok holding one of her hands and her brother her other, she felt safe and because they held on to her, in the beginning, she was able to venture on her own later on. During her lessons sometimes they would come to watch and if they couldn’t make it then surely one of them would come to pick her up and then she’d have someone to share her growth with. The day of her first competition she skated just for them as if there was no other audience in the world, as if nobody else’s enjoyment mattered because honestly it didn’t, her whole world fitted in their hands. The boys that would help her pick out the color of her skating dress, the ones that would put frozen veggie bags on her bruises and band-aid her scraped knees, the ones that cheered her on and dump glitter in her hair before entering the rink. She hasn’t stepped on the ice in over a decade, she hasn’t done much of anything she used to love doing actually. Not since they have been gone. All that Yoonji has done in the past years is work and work to get them back. And she would shake hands with the devil if that was what it would take to do so.




“Are you free tonight, noona? Can I come by?” the text reads and it’s from bunny boy. Of course, who else would text her? Not her team obviously, surely the Sup must have warned them about her. Yoonji hadn’t lost her badge but she might as well have. Of course, the boy could come by.


He showed up at around ten and Yoonji was just in a tshirt and panties, toothbrush still in her mouth, minty foam on her lips. He was in a shirt and loose tie, the watch on his wrist almost as blinding as his toothy smile.

“You’re always a mess, noona.” he comments and giggles. The nerve on this kid … She mumbles something about getting lost if he doesn’t like it and goes to rinse. He makes himself at home, opening the bottle of something expensive he’s brought along.

“What do you know about being an adult anyway?” she eventually claps back, sitting herself on the kitchen table, watching him pour them two glasses.

“I know a fair share.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“That you can’t trust anybody because people don’t understand what loyalty is anymore. That you always have to watch your back and surround yourself with few but trustworthy people. That you shouldn’t take any bullshit from anyone and shouldn’t ever compromise.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere before ...”

Jungkook hands her the full glass of sparkling wine and slots himself between her legs watching her closely as she sips on her drink.


“Delicious. Bought it with your allowance?”

He laughs and kisses her short and sweet.

“I work, you know.”

“Oh? As what?”

“Sort of a personal assistant to someone really rich and important.”

“Mmm… who might that be?”

“Can’t say. I might get in trouble.”

“You’re nothing but trouble yourself …”

This time she goes for the kiss but it’s nothing as chaste as the first. Yoonji is starving for affection so she bites and licks and steals Jungkook’s breath away leaving the poor boy to cling to her closely and whimper overwhelmed, cockiness out the window as always after he gets a taste of her. She wraps her legs around his tiny waist, pulling him in, feeling how hard he’s gotten through his slacks.

“Noona...” he manages, a plea through swollen lips.

“What are you waiting for, bunny dear?”

“Permission ...”

“You sweet, sweet thing. You have it, go ahead.”

He keeps on kissing her, messily. Yoonji all but drops her glass, what was left of the wine now on the tiles of her kitchen floor. Jungkook fumbles with his hands, touches her all over, feels her soft breasts and pebbled nipples through her raggedy tshirt and it’s the only thing that gets him to break the kiss, only to push the fabric up and latch onto her chest to suckle hungrily at it. Yoonji throws her head back and chuckles a little, always amused and yet so turned on by how needy Jungkook gets the second he gets his lips around her tits. She praises him for being a good baby, runs her hands through his soft hair and leans back on the table, letting him have his fill. It takes a long while for Jungkook to deem her nipples swollen and puffy enough for his liking, shinning in the dim light with all the spit he’s covered them in.

Jungkook moves lower, too embarrassed to look up at his noona, he takes her panties off and hopes that she doesn’t mind it. Yoonji couldn’t be happier about it actually, she’s been getting wetter and wetter by the minute.

“C’mon baby, give noona something already, your pretty tongue or your fingers, something ...”

that’s all he needs to hear before kneeling in front of the table where she’s laid out like a full course meal for him. He laps at her heated core with incredible hunger, spreading her pink lips with his hands, suckling on her clit as he did with her nipples. He finally gets her moaning once he also inserts a finger.

“Ah yeah, fuck, more, baby, noona needs more ...”

He laps at her pussy a few more times, getting it nice and messy before adding another finger and like the good boy that he is he immediately begins to push in and out of her, hooking his fingers against that sweet bundle of nerves inside of her all the while still licking and sucking all over her core. Yoonji is positively screaming at this point, her thighs quivering, legs opening up more without her even thinking about it, she’s so close, so close … Jungkook, emboldened by her body’s response, only ups the ante and moves his hand faster. He makes her come when he grazes his teeth against her clit, the sharp feeling powerful enough to send her over the age. Jungkook still his fingers when he feels her walls constricting and pulsing but continues to kitten lick her folds until Yoonji eventually comes down from her high and asks him to stop, it’s too much.

“Noona… I did good?”

“You did so well, baby, you’re getting better and better … Did you cum, bunny?”

“No but I’m so close … I just need ...”

“Shh, it’s ok, c’mon, show me your pretty cock.”

Yoonji keeps on kissing him, petting his cheeks gently, encouragingly as the boy’s shaky hands work on his belt and zipper to finally release his achingly hard length. She takes him in her free hand and gives him a squeeze, making Jungkook yelp and keen.

“My sweet boy ...” Yoonji leans back on the table, spreading herself wide open and Jungkook is almost drooling at the sight. “C’mon, Kookie, come love me like you do ...”

That’s all he needed to hear. He quickly moves to grab her by the buttocks, hiking her up, angling her hips so that when he sheaths himself in her he does so in one go, forcing moans from both of them. True to his nickname Jungkook fucks her fast and hard, panting and hanging on to her while Yoonji keeps him close, kisses his head and praises him for being a good bunny, fucking her so good.

“Noona… ‘m sorry … can’t … won’t last … ‘m so close … wanna …”

“Go ahead, baby, give me your cum, fill me up, ‘s okay, want it so badly too ...”

Jungkook cries out, crushing her in his strong arms, pulsating inside of her as he shoots his hot load for a pretty long while. By the time he’s done Yoonji is sweaty and her back aches but she’s entirely content. She loves the heat, loves being surrounded by it, by the presence of someone alive and strong, someone that wants her and needs her and doesn’t know enough about her to reject her.




Jungkook leaves before she wakes up. Yoonji is not surprised but she’s surelly disappointed. Her phone says it’s half past eight in the morning, she’s late for work but honestly she sees no point in going to the station anymore. So she takes her time, takes a long shower and eats some Nutella on toast for breakfast and as she waits for her coffee to brew there’s a knock on her door. Throwing on a large hoodie she goes to answer.

She expected anybody but Dr. Kibum.

“Ah shit!”

“Is this a bad time?” he asks, polite as always. He turns slightly to the side, looking away from Yoonji in an attempt to preserve her modesty. He’s carrying a laptop and an envelope.

“No, not really … wassup?”

“I’m here to return this to you. It’s Mr. Jung’s laptop. The tech team has just returned it.”

“Did they find out anything useful?” she asks while relieving the doctor of the device.

“Nothing other than the fact that it had been thoroughly hacked.”

“I see. What’s that?”

“It’s an official notice from the Sup. I’ve asked to be assigned to a different case and he has approved my transfer. I’ll no longer be working on the Kims case.” he says as he hands her the paper with a sympathetic smile. “Thank you for having me on until now.”

“Yeah… um… any reason why you don’t want to work with us anymore?”

“I just feel like my skills would be more useful elsewhere.”

“Somewhere where there are no corrupt cops, right?”

“Hopefully corrupt officers will become a thing of the past once this case ends. I trust you to successfully see it through until the end.”

“Has anybody told you you sound like a complete douche when you speak like that?” Yoonji bites and she’s already stepping back inside the shelter of her small home.

“Hoseok did, quite often.”

“Well, I’ve never known him to be wrong. Thank you for your hard work, doctor Kim.”

She doesn’t hear his reply because she shuts the door in his face before he gets the chance to open his mouth once more. The notice goes straight into the garbage bin and laptop on her countertop.

Yoonji picks up a glass from her sink and half-assedly rinses it before pouring herself some warm sparkling wine from the bottle they’ve forgotten out last night.

It tasted like piss and it matched her mood perfectly. She sits in front of the old laptop and turns the thing on out of weird curiosity. This was Hoseok’s work and personal laptop so there might be something on it that could explain to her why he had suddenly vanished.




Hours go by and Yoonji is plastered, hungry, sick and not even a bit wiser than before. The device held no useful information other than Hoseok’s dubious internet search history that had nothing to do with his resignation but a lot to do with gay porn and avocados. The only person he kept in contact with via email was the Sup and some AA representative that was trying to find him a sponsor.

Yoonji groans and sighs after she checks her phone only to see that she had zero notifications. She skipped an entire day of work and nobody even noticed. Fucking wonderful.

She was about to get up and stretch a bit when all of a sudden the laptop’s screen goes dark, glitches a couple of times and something that looks like a rudimentary chat box appears with the “typing” notification blinking.

Yoonji feels chills up and down her arms as she anxiously waits for the message.

“Is this Jung Hoseok?” the text eventually reads. Yoonji takes in a deep breath before carefully replying.

“No. Who is this?”

“Who am I speaking to?”

She ponders whether to give herself up or not. This was Hoseok’s laptop, the one on which they have received information on. She was most likely talking to the hacker, hence the informant.

“I’m Min Yoonji. I work with Hoseok.”

“Can I trust you?”

Yoonji almost laughed at that. Honestly, was there anyone that trusted her anymore? She hardly trusted herself nowadays.

“Yes. Who am I speaking to?”

“I’m Jimin.”

Chapter Text

Jungkook sat in the large, leather office chair like he owned the place. Before him, the long, shiny conference table stretched all the way to the opposite end of the room, on both sides of it the heads of the upper Kim clan’s all operations. They were all looking at him, smirks on their lips, disdain not even close to hidden. They wanted him to know that he had no business being seated at the head of the table.

“I think we should begin.” Jungkook announces, his voice loud enough to carry to the entire room.

“We’ll begin once Master Kim arrives.” someone to his right informs him.

“As I’ve already told you, Master Kim has other business to attend to. He’s left me to handle today’s meeting.”

“No offense, Jungkook darling, but you’re fairly new to the clan and this meeting is about urgent and important matters.”

“It’s Mr. Kim to you, miss Im, in case you’ve forgotten, Master Kim has named me his second in command. I’m more than capable of dealing with today’s meeting seeing as it is nothing more than an opportunity for you all to share your excuses as to why we are not meeting the usual quotas.”

There’s grumbling and backhand whispers around the room and Jungkook has had enough. He stands and clears his throat, visibly irritated.

“I have all day, gentlemen. We can spend it like we have so far and I can report your incompetence to Master Kim or we could actually get shit done for once.”

“ I think it would be wise to listen to the young master. There’s no point in wasting so much precious time bickering over seniority. If Master Kim trust him then that should be enough for us.”

“Thank you ...”

“Jongup, Sir, I run arms.”

The table finally settles after the man’s intervention and after a warning glare addressed to all those present Jungkook takes a seat once more and opens the folder in front of him. The others follow suit with their own papers.

“I look at these numbers and all I’m seeing is decline. The brothels are doing poorly, the guns deal is yielding nothing, we’re spending more than we’re making … Where to start even? Hui?”

“Yes, sir.” a young man stands straight as a rod as soon he’s called upon. Jungkook smiles.

“What the fuck are you spending so much money on?”

“Medical expenses for the staff, sir.”

“What? The whores got herpes or something?”

They laugh at Jungkook’s crass remark and he suddenly feels more at ease.

“Master Kim insists that all workers get regular check-ups and treatment.” Hui explains.

“Look, I’m young, you might have noticed, but in my limited experience if your chickens get sick and stop laying eggs do you spend hundreds on their treatment and not sell any eggs until they are better or do you just buy new fucking chickens?”

This cracks up his audience and makes Hui lower his head in confusion.

“I was just following orders ...”

“And that's’ good, obedience is important for the clan to function but so is logic. Hui, quit this charitable nonsense and get the “workers” working again. If not, replace them. This is a business, not a hospital.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Speaking of hospitals, I’m seeing more numbers invested in equipment than actual organ collecting. Who’s the kidney dealer?”

Giggling, a bony woman in her fifties stands up and explains to Jungkook that Master Kim wants to assure his patients that they are getting the best possible care and that the surgeries, even though illegal, are safe and successful.

“Most of the clients are old, dying farts, aren’t they? Rich enough to afford a new lung but not smart enough to quit smoking. They’re on their way out anyway, why bother? Besides, faulty surgery means more surgery. Think in numbers, not results. Again, we’re a business, not a hospital.”

“Yes, sir. I perfectly agree with you.”

There’s a shift in the mood of the room, the overt hostility no longer as poignant. A few eyebrows are raised curiously, there are some nods of approval, a hint of amusement and agreement. Jungkook notices that familiar high he gets when he feels in control raising steadily inside of him.

“Jongup, what is happening on the guns side?”

“Business as usual, Young Master. We gain no profit from it.”

“What? Why?”

“Master Kim has us purchasing guns and destroying them right after. It has been like this ever since the separation.”

“We buy guns and … destroy them? Why?”

“Master Kim has not explained this to any of us, it is simply his will and he is very adamant that things stay this way.”

Jungkook’s eyes go comically round with bewilderment, causing even a few giggles here and there. After the initial shock, he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs and sighing deeply like a troubled man.

“Look, you all know Master Kim can be ruthless and very strict. It’s something I admire greatly in him but at the same time he’s … Seokjin hyung can be quite moody. He feels a lot, more than he lets on so his decisions are not always … logical. That’s why I’m here, to be his rock of sorts. I’ll talk to him about the guns issue. As for the rest, we can drag this out all day but the conclusion would be the same. We need to get back to making profit. Do whatever it takes so that by the time we see each other again, these numbers will look better. Thank you all.”

“Sir!” an older man stands up quickly. Jungkook signals for him to speak. “We need a replacement for E’Dawn. Who would you prefer to take over?”

“Who was in charge before him?”

“I was, Sir.”

“Why did you get replaced?”

“I was …”

“Go on, no shame. Speak openly.”

“I cut the meth and coke to make more profit.”

“I killed a man for that once.”

“I know, Sir.”

“Take over the drugs business, do what you know best only this time all the profit comes back to the clan, not your greedy pockets, you hear?”

“Yes, Sir! Thank you so much!”


Jungkook found Jin where he had left him earlier that same morning, sprawled on his canopy bed in his baby pink bedroom. Taehyung was there too, as he was most days now, gingerly sat atop Jin, massaging his wide shoulders, giggling for no apparent reason every now and again. He was most likely high as a kite again.

“That took you a while.” the head mobster pouted into his pillow and Jungkook leaned in to kiss the upset away. Once he got the older man smiling he also locked lips with Taehyung who only replied with a choked laughter.

“I’m sorry, they didn’t warm up to me immediately. Had some convincing to do.”

“It’s never easy, accepting new people. I’ve put you through the wringer myself when you first came to me.”

“But you trust me now.” Jungkook tested, undressing as he spoke.

“With my life.”

They shifted, Taehyung falling from where he sat atop of Jin onto the pillows to his side and Jin turning to make room for their younger to cuddle in the middle.

Jungkook hadn’t seen Jin so relaxed before, his eyes turning to crescents from the wide smile on his pretty face. This was not the terrifying mobster that cut open people on his lunch table and spread the remains throughout the capital just to send a message. This soft man sprawled under him that shivered after every kiss was not Master Kim, this was simply Seokjin, touch-starved, trusting Seokjin and Seokjin was someone that Jungkook could challenge.

“How did the meeting go?” he asks between kisses.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with that anymore. I handled it well and I will continue to do so from now on. You can lean on me, hyung. I’ll take care of things for you.”

“Mmm… it felt good having some time off.”

Jungkook wanted to give him all the free time that he wanted. He loved being at the head of that table, loved being called “young master” and “sir”, the power trip addictive. He had become a junkie, he realized, much like Taehyung, he couldn’t live without it anymore, the power, the control. He craved it more than air or water.

“I solved our rat problem for good. I think I can afford a mini vacation.”

“Oh? How did you solve it, hyung?”

“I just had to ask the right people. Like always, loyalty is a rare thing. People sell each other out easily.”

“Not me, hyung. I’m loyal.”

“I know you are, Ggukie, you and Tae are my everything.”

Jungkook didn’t miss a beat before slotting his lips against the head mobster’s. He tasted bitter, like alcohol, so he must’ve really enjoyed his morning with Taehyung. He licked deeper, pressed harder, began caressing the strong yet lithe torso under his fingertips, feeling the goosebumps rising in their wake. A whimper interrupted their makeout session and Jungkook is reminded of their toy.

Taehyung was floating in between there and someplace happier, eyes blown wide and body covered in purple marks. He was hard, he probably had been for a while and he was palming pathetically at his length, watching the two powerful men devour each other without a care towards him.

“Doll wants to play too?”

“Please ...”

“Please what?”

“Please, masters, use me for what I was made.”

That never failed to make Jungkook’s dick twitch. As much as he preferred being with Yoonji over anybody else there was something to be said about the way the two men made him feel. Taehyung was completely submissive to his every whim and this gave him a rush like nothing else did whereas Seokjin was like running a sharp blade over delicate skin, dangerous yet exhilarating. It wasn’t about the sex for Jungkook, it was about the control, the push and pull, the seesaw game between owning and being owned.

“Suck hyung off.” he ordered and Taehyung immediately moved, crawling closer and deep throating in one smooth, expert slide. Seokjin gasped and wasted no time before he began snapping his hips up, holding the dancer by his hair in a vice-like grip, using him like a sleeve. The other only drooled and choked but otherwise, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his body went limp, allowing himself to be used properly.

Jungkook stood up on his knees, jerking off to the sight under him. Seokjin was looking up at him, cheeks ablaze, fat lips parted and still glistening with his spit, he was beautiful. He was eyeing Jungkook’s cock while fucking into Taehyung’s throat with abandon.

“What’s wrong, hyung? Our doll’s mouth not good enough?”

“Need more.” he gasped, frustration present in his tone.

Jungkook let go of his now hard, wet length and gripped harshly on Taehyung’s hips, stilling him from humping the bed as he tended to do whenever one of them was throat fucking him, and spread his ass cheeks to get better access to the buttplug buried deep inside the dancer. He pulled on it without much concern, the black, orange-sized toy popping out with a loud squelch, rivulets of lube and cum escaping down skinny thighs. They decided that Taehyung was to keep the huge plug in at all times so that they never had to worry about prepping him when they wanted to use him. Taehyung thought that was a genius idea and so convenient. Or so he said, a bit mumbled after a shot of meth.

“Get on hyung’s cock.” Jungkook instructed and Tae was quick to replace his mouth with his ass, straddling Seokjin and bending prettily, knowing that the younger was also going to fuck him.

“Fuck, it’s so loose ...”

“I got you, hyung.”

Sure enough, Jungkook slid right along inside and the friction was delicious now, the older moaning a little, satisfied at last. He placed his arms under his head and thrusted upwards a few times, bouncing Taehyung on both his and the youngest’s cock. The dancer giggled and begged sweetly for more. Jungkook slapped him a few times before starting to ruthlessly pound into him. He could feel Seokjin’s dick twitching alongside his and it was weird, he’s never gotten used to the sensation even though this was the only way they’ve been fucking Taehyung since that night he asked to become their toy forever. Anal was good, as long as he could close his eyes and imagine someone else but the undeniable reality of another dick flushed against his was too much at times. He could feel himself flagging and he couldn’t stand the idea of disappointing his hyung.

Jungkook slowed his pace and gathered some of the lube that overspilled to lather his fingers and push into Taehyung’s already gaping asshole. The man keened and shivered at the sensation but brought his hands back to spread his cheeks wider, giving Jungkook better access to grip his and Seokjin’s cock while still inside.

“Useless slag, your hole is so loose I have to jerk off inside of it if I wanna feel anything.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better, I’m sorry ...”

Jungkook kept moving, squeezing Seokjin and himself harder, grinding deeper, rougher. Taehyung tried to clench, tried to bounce and help but he was too far gone, too pliant and limp in their hands, the only thing he could do is just take it.

After long minutes of desperate rutting and sweating Jungkook finally felt Seokjin’s hot cum shooting inside of their toy and on his fingers. He grunts and pretends like he also climaxed, counting on the mess inside Taehyung’s ass to mask the truth. He can’t cum, not like this and he’s angry at himself for it, takes it out on their sub, slapping him mercilessly and tossing him to the other side of the bed like a used rag. Seokjin laughs and kisses him, tells him that it’s pointless, no beating could ever make him tight again.

“He only has one job and he can’t even do that well ...”

“It’s ok, Jungkookie, you made me feel good. We’ll punish it later.” Seokjin kisses him again, kisses the frown between his brows until it goes away and only then his lips before standing up and heading towards the bathroom for a shower, winking over his shoulder. Jungkook grins at him, slaps his ass playfully and lays back on the pink, silky pillows.

“I’ve never seen him so happy ...” Taehyung mumbles in a small voice, clutching the sheets, trying to make the room stop spinning.

“We make him happy.” Jungkook replies and cards his fingers through the other’s hair soothingly.

“And he makes you powerful.”

“They called me young master Kim.”

“Mmm… I bet that felt good.”

“Felt fucking amazing. Everybody obeyed my orders.”

“But you want more ...”

“Wanna make him mine, Tae.”

“You can’t.”

“I can. He trusts me.”

“He trusts you but he loves Namjoon.”


When Jungkook walked into the Monster Plaza there was almost nobody there but for the few staff workers busy tidying the casino up before its opening later that night. The lights were all on, every detail of the luxurious interior visible, from the blood red carpets to the dark mahogany gambling tables and the myriad of tear-shaped diamonds dangling from the numerous chandeliers. But of course no matter how exquisite the design and architecture the eye is always drawn to the most obvious piece of décor, the five-meter tall painting on the front wall of the casino. It was a beast, human looking but only barely, looming from darkness, mouth gaping and bloody and eyes bulged widely as he consumes, perhaps cannibalizes, a pale corpse that’s missing its head. It looks mad, consumed by the act of consuming, of devouring. The fact that between the beast’s legs there’s an erect penis only makes the tableau more sickening.

“It’s a reproduction after Goya’s Saturn devouring his son.” a voice comes from behind and Jungkook knows even before turning that it belongs to the master of the place.

Kim Namjoon looks tired but still perfectly in control. His sleeves rolled up, diamond watch glistening opulently, jacket missing, silver hair parted to the side, chest wide, thick-rimmed glasses. Every detail paints a picture in the younger’s head of a man weighed down but still perfectly capable of carrying the burden, a titan in human form. Kim Namjoon exudes regality and Jungkook’s jaw clenches, stubbornness pocking its head, refusing to back down.

“Are you such a monster as well?” he asks and the man huffs in amusement.

“No, I don’t fancy myself a beast.”

“Have you ever met a monster then?”

“I have. And I’ve also been loving a monster my whole life.”

“I’m trying to do that as well.”

“Be a monster or love a monster?”

“Both.” he smiles and steps forward, confidence rising in him like hubris. “My name’s Jungkook. I’ve been told that if I ever needed a diamond good enough to seduce a dragon I should come to you.”

“My office is right here, through the curtains.” Namjoon answers not feeling the need to present himself as well and leads the way.

The office is dark and cozy, same heavy wood and plush predominant here as in the rest of the building. Jungkook doesn’t ask before he takes a seat in the soft leather chair in front of the wide desk and the older eyes him with slight annoyance before deciding to ignore his bad manners and pulls out a velvet box.

Namjoon turns on a bright lamp before opening the box like a treasure chest. Inside there are many diamonds, sparkling fantastically in all the colors of the rainbow. Jungkook whistles, impressed.

“Where did you even find some of these?”

“Rescued them from the black market. Most of them are blood diamonds but some come from galleries and private collections.”


“Acquired through nonorthodox means.”

“Which one is the biggest?”

Namjoon uses something that looks like big tweezers to separate three of the gems from the pile, two of them colorless and one pink. Jungkook eyes one of the colorless ones, shaped like a pear and his thoughts fly to Yoonji, to how her eyes sparkle just like the precious stone when she looks at him, when she smiles through breathless pants, hair wet with sweat, clinging to her forehead, heated cheeks and bitten lips. How beautiful would that diamond look on her finger… would she even say yes to him? She hardly knows him, she’d probably leave the second she takes a glimpse at the darkness inside of him, at the murky pit that his chest has become.

“The pink one …”

“18 carats, 4 grams, 43 million US dollars.”

“43 ...”

“The smaller ones are more affordable.”

“I’m not looking for something affordable.”

“Are you trying to impress someone?” Namjoon laughs and picks up the pink diamond, making it sparkle in the light.

“I’m trying to make them mine.”

“Then the size of the diamond is irrelevant. Love is what you should be offering.”

“I’m offering loyalty and this monster prefers it to anything else. But I don’t think they’d mind the diamond as well. How much to make it into a ring?”

“If I add two of the smaller ones on each side of this one and have the band made of ...”

“White gold.”

“Then I can round it all up to 50 mil.”

“Perfect. Can you have it done by the weekend?”

“I’ll talk to the jeweler but it can be arranged with some additional fees. What size do you need the ring in?”

Jungkook hadn’t thought about that. He looks at his own hands and knows that if this ring were made for Yoonji it’d be twice as small as his fingers but given the current situation …

“Whatever size you are should be fine.”

Namjoon’s brow rises curiously but he says nothing, nodding curtly and placing the diamond back in the box.

“Payment in cash, small notes only. I assume you are familiar with the procedure.”

“I am, I’ll have someone pick it up on Friday and pay you in full then.”

“Very well.” Namjoon offers his hand and Jungkook almost hesitates before shaking it, grip tight. Namjoon scoffs and Jungkook regrets trying to assert dominance in such a childish way.

They exit the small office and the younger looks up at the painting one more time.

“What happened to Saturn after he ate his son?”

“His youngest survived and came back to take revenge on him.”

“He was a pretty shitty father.”

“He was. And like most shitty fathers he raised monsters.”


Jungkook’s father was no monster and to be honest he wasn’t that shitty either. He was just a man. He would have breakfast with him and his brother and mother in the morning, usually paying more attention to the news on TV than to them, then he’d scurry off to work and only return very late at night. By the time he was 13 Jungkook had become convinced that he was cheating on his mom. He had no tangible proof but deep down he felt something was off. The only time his parents came together was when they were scolding him or punishing him. His mother fancied herself a strict person, the type that called abuse “tough love” and masked her actions with the excuse of “wanting what’s best for him.” It worked somewhat on his brother so Jungkook’s greatest fear had become ending up as mediocre as his parents. He couldn’t stand the thought of being chained down to a day long job in some office, back always bent in front of others, the sight of his own feet more familiar than people’s faces. He wanted to become powerful, he wanted to be so much so that even his family would cower in front of him, finally recognizing him as a person and not just a pushover.


But people made him sick. People looking at him, measuring him always, from the gruff, snarky gym teacher that called him too scrawny for football to the foreign exchange girl that spent a semester in his class that said he wasn’t her type, she prefers taller dudes to the goons that mocked him everytime he hit the gym and dubbed him the boss’ bitch, people always wrote him off as not enough. So he despised crowds, avoided them and the countless eyes and eyes and eyes. Much like a snake under a stone, Jungkook chose to hide and wait for the perfect moment to strike.

That meant knowing his environment, that meant understanding that others underestimate him and use that to his advantage. He changes skins, he adapts, he plays the role of the outgoing prodigy, the head mobster’s favorite, potential right-hand man, he smiles, toothy and bright, he shakes hands warmly and jokes and laughs and he’s just cruel enough, just smart enough, not blending in but fitting in.

Jungkook looks like he belongs in this landscape of expensive, imported décor and gourmet food, designer bespoken suits, and glitz. Here he takes on the name of “young master” and uses it as a name for his species, a rare type of predator.

The party is held on a rooftop, the cold glimmer of the city lights mixing beautifully with the soft, warm ones coming from the numerous fairy lights strung all about. Jin is late, fashionably so. He’s probably still taking out his anger on Taehyung, fucking and beating into their toy like a mad dog set loose. Seokjin likes parties, likes the attention, usually. But lately, he’s been tired and cranky, the whole rat affair having taken a toll on him. Despite not making it obvious, Jungkook sensed the older’s fatigue that came from all the worry and the fury. He was relieved that it was over, that nothing was threatening his peace anymore. And that is why Master Kim would rather not make an appearance at all, he’d rather stay in bed as he did yesterday as well and just take a break. But for Jungkook, for his favorite, his beloved, he’ll come eventually.

Jungkook takes another sip of his champagne glass and exchanges a few more jokes with their black market dealers before retreating to the side, leaning against the railing and sighing deeply.

He’s about to get bored when applause erupts here and there, accompanied by cheers. So the Master arrives.

Seokjin is pretty casual in what he understands as casual. Sure the suit is red rather than the expected black and he ditched the tie and left the first few buttons opened but it’s still an over 50k suit and the ice on his hands and around his neck is worth double that for sure.

People bow and greet him, shake his hand, pay their respects and Seokjin is courteous as he always is but Jungkook can tell he is not in the mood. He has come to know the man pretty well in a very short time. Blame it on being from the same species.

It takes him a few long minutes to find the younger but when he does his face relaxes instantly and he quickly dodges the few that haven’t gotten a word with him yet to join Jungkook by the railing.

“Good evening, Master Kim.”

“Hmm. Good evening, young master.” Seokjin laughs and slots their lips together quickly. “You are becoming a tyrant, making me leave my bed and my toy to come to this … whatever this is supposed to be.”

“I was just really happy about how the meeting went, wanted to celebrate making you proud.”

“So this is Jungkookie’s coronation.” the older laughs once more.

“I’m no king.”

“Of course you are. You are with me. Even more than a king.”

“I know. Seokjin-hyung, I know how much you are capable of and I know I’d be nothing without you.”

“Kookie … where’s this coming from suddenly?”

The younger turns to face him and plants his hands in his pockets, looking down, face ablaze.

“I love you, hyung. I hope you know that.”

“I do, of course I do.”

“And I hope you can trust me.”

“There’s nobody else I trust.”

“Then …”

Jungkook then drops to one knee and pulls out a small, velvet box. Seokjin freezes, breath caught in his throat. When the younger opens the box to reveal a huge pink diamond ring, the mobster’s hands fly to his face to hide his shocked expression and gasp.

“Kim Seokjin, will you marry me?”

Chapter Text

When he saw the man casually leaning against his car, smoking and obviously waiting, Yoongi’s first instinct was to shield Jimin behind him and reach for his gun.

“No need for that, mr. Min.” the man spoke, crushing the cig under his patent leather shoes. “My name’s Jungup, I work for Master Kim.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Yoongi replies and draws his gun, pulling the safety.

“I come with an offer for you on behalf of my employer.” Jungup continues unbothered by the sight of the weapon. “He would like to take you on now that you have been dismissed by Kim Namjoon.”

“No offense, buddy, but you’ve gotta be truly deranged to work for fucking Kim Seokjin.”

“The Master’s offer comes as a favor to a friend you’re close to.”

“I’m not friends with anybody in the upper clan. Besides, I assume this generous offer is extended only to me.”

Jungup eyes the tiny blond peaking from behind Yoongi’s shoulder and smiles.

“Master Kim isn’t very fond of your companion.”

“Yeah, well, I am. You can let your master Kim know that I am retiring from the Mob.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Boohoo indeed. Now get off my car before I turn you into my last job.”

Jungup shrugs and does stand up, already plucking another cigarette from his pack.

“If you ever change your mind I’m sure you know how to contact us.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“Have good day.”


Needless to say that encounter was all that Jimin could think about during the long drive that day. He stood in silence, knees drawn up and side squished against the car door as he rested his forehead against the cold window, taking in the ever more desolate landscape. Yoongi’s secret house was just outside Seoul but not quite in Daejeon, an isolated little trailer looking hut not too far from the train tracks. Jimin hates train tracks but doesn’t speak up about it, figures that he has no right to complain, after all, they are in hiding, they can’t stay in luxury villas on Jeju.

Seokjin wanted to hire Yoongi and he had said no. For him. Yoongi could have been safe, could have worked for the other team and continue with his normal lifestyle just under a different boss but he refused. For him. He said he was retiring from the mob, he said he was fond of him. Jimin felt his eyes water.

“Are you okay?” the gruff voice sounds so sweet to his ears.

“Yeah… just thinking.”


“You could work for Seokjin. You’d be safe ...”

“But you wouldn’t be.”

“I could just go back to Taetae, learn to work the pole, earn my keep for once ...”

“Absolutely not.”

“But ...”

“I don’t want to hear it. We’re breaking free from this bullshit, isn’t that what we said?” Yoongi’s knuckles turn white from the grip he has on the stiring wheel. Jimin lowers his head, guilt consuming him.

“But it’s just us against both of them ...”

“We’re enough.”




Yoonji wondered for the Nth time if she had finally lost her mind. She hadn’t left her house in days, hauled up with her copy of the infamous file, papers strewn about everywhere, pinned to corkboards and covered in post-its filled with her ugly handwriting. All that was missing was a red thread and she would have been a walking conspiracy theory meme. But she felt she had to do things this way.

Jackson had been released and both Hyuna and Sooyoung refused to talk until Kim Seokjin is arrested and charged. Everybody was trying to protect themselves of course. The entire police station was avoiding their task force, nobody wanting to be seen with them, associated with them and their mission. It had come to a weird stand-off between their small group and everybody else and even their own team was divided. Hoseok still missing, Dr. Kim quitting and Yoonji isolated and distrusted.

She had to work on her own, have her hail Mary moment and attempt at pulling this off single handedly.

Well, almost. She had Jimin, a person she’s never seen or heard other than a glimpse through surveillance footage. Kim Namjoon’s lover, their rat. The person her brother counted on for information. Of course, it all made sense. Yoongi probably stayed undercover to try and protect Jimin. Who knows what dangers they have been through during those 4 years? And it all came crashing down because she accidentally told Seokjin the correct name.

“Are you still there?” the message on the laptop reads.

“Yeah.” Yoonji is quick to type back.

“Have you made the 2 lists?”

“Yeah. I’ve got 243 names for Kim Namjoon and 355 for Seokjin.”

“That’s correct. Now you need to categorize everybody by rank.”

“How do I do that?”

“I’ll help.”

It’s painstaking work much like piecing together a clock. From the small cogs to the big ones, everything is interconnected and everything is needed to make the mechanism work. Taking it apart requires precision and patience, something Yoonji is known for not having. But she struggles. She mixes vodka with her black coffee and mentally apologizes to Hoseok for this and then moves on to scower over the names and numbers, slowly putting together the puzzle. This man is a supplier and so is this one but one works internationally while the other locally, they both need distributors and people to facilitate the transactions, both on a small and a large scale. They all need legal protection, financial advice and when she eventually reaches the bottom of the pyramid she even knows what these fuckers prefer for lunch on Tuesdays.




“Your sister’s a really hard worker.” Jimin tells Yoongi when he comes to check up on him. He’s been glued to the chair in the minuscule kitchen for hours, exchanging messages with Yoonji, working through the immense volume of information.

Meanwhile, Yoongi had settled them in, got the generator going and put their clothes away in the drawers, made dinner, parked the car aways from their hideout and walked back. He didn’t want to communicate with his sister, not yet, not like this. He could feel his heart in his throat and the chocking sensation simply won’t let up. He’s worried sick but can’t let it show, not when Jimin needs him to be a rock, someone he can lean on.

“So are you, baby.” he cards his fingers through Jimin’s locks and the younger almost purrs at that. He must be so touch starved, Namjoon always kept him close, on his lap, in his arms but Yoongi was so used to not being allowed to touch him that he can’t bring himself to do it more even when he wants to badly.

“She’s got so much information. Whoever gave her that file is in deep with both of the clans. I can’t think of anybody in such a position.”

The elephant in the room was the fact that they both still suspected each other of being the rat. They don’t voice it anymore, preferring to avoid a fight but the uncomfortable weight of the doubt was ever present.

“Give her a break, yeah? Let’s eat.”

“Sure.” Jimin types something quickly and then closes the lid of the laptop without shutting it down. He was truly amazing with computers, a skill that surprisingly or not has not eroded with the years of unuse.




Yoonji actually laughs when she draws a final line on the huge paper sheet pinned to her wall. It does form a pyramid, this whole convoluted chain of power and secrets. From the almost countless bottom feeders, drug mules, prostitutes, small-time con artists, thieves to the slightly higher ranking middlemen to the millionaire suppliers fronting as honest businessmen and of course the elite that protects them all, police, lawyers, judges, politicians, press. Bottom to ever narrower top, there they all were, like the Valley of the Kings, the two structures representing the two halves of the once huge Kim clan finally laid out bare for Yoonji to see. It all made sense, finally. And it was a behemoth.

Taking a step back, she reaches towards the desk, bypassing her mug of spiked coffee and grabbing the half empty bottle of vodka, taking a painfully long gulp from it. It was impossible to dismantle.

Where Namjoon had preferred to keep things as simple as possible and make extra sure that he was protected on all sides by people in key positions, Seokjin opted for safety in numbers, hiding in plain sight in the middle of an impossibly complex web of people that neither had sufficient power to ever harm him. On both fronts, the two leaders’ walls were insurmountable and unpenetrable.

Even with Hyuna and Sooyoung’s confessions, they could only charge Seokjin at most with forced prostitution and blackmail. If they managed to get something out of Jackson Wang then Namjoon would face trial for illegal arms dealing but not supplying. At most they would receive 10 years. A decade in not even a high-security prison with the chance of parole for a lifetime of crime with countless victims. Unless they can somehow prove the whole thing and send hundreds of people to prison together with the lead mobsters.

Suddenly Yoonji feels her body relax. She collapses on a nearby chair and takes another swing from the bottle. Coming to this conclusion had been an arduous journey but at long last, there is an answer. They can’t take down the Kims. Not by any legal means.

So she’s left with a simple choice.




“You have to learn how to shoot a fixed target before trying to aim at moving ones.” Yoongi explains, loading his gun, making it click.

“Moving ones?” Jimin asks, both hands on his own weapon, still unsure.

The brunet nods and just as a small murder of crows takes flight from the tall trees and passes over them he quickly turns his gaze upwards and shoots three rapid rounds. Jimin flinches at the noise and its reverberating echo and watches two of the black birds fall limply from the reddened sky.

After they had eaten the younger was sat down for a crash course on guns. Yoongi needed to know that he was capable of defending himself if he ever happened to not be there to shield him. It took him two hours to explain how to assemble and load a gun and how to safely hold it, Jimin being a very fast learner. And as the sun began to set they headed just outside their little trailer house to shoot cans and bottles in the dying light, the sounds of bullets flying and missing their target masked by the distant blares of passing trains.

“That’s just cruel.” the blond comments.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Life’s that way as well.”

Jimin turns and tries to hold a correct stance but he misses every shot and stumbles from the recoil every time. Eventually, Yoongi comes behind him, presses close and guides his arms and short fingers on the deadly trigger. The bottle shatters with a satisfying cling and sparkle.

Jimin notices things after he gains some momentum and manages a few more clean shots. He realizes how warm he is swaddled in Yoongi’s old leather jacket, how hard the other’s body is against his back, how warm his breath tickling his ear. He realizes that he has been away from Namjoon for days now and he hasn’t missed him for a single second. His routine has vanished like a bad dream, his need to always check on himself in a mirror has gone down significantly. The air is so clean here and the colors so bright, they’re in the middle of nowhere, hidden and isolated and he’s never felt freer. Jimin feels free.

The final bullet flyes from the muzzle of his gun, piercing cleanly through an old can of baked beans and the recoil pushes him deeper into Yoongi’s embrace. Days ago he wasn’t able to even take aim but now he feels like he could kill. He’s stronger now. He’s free and strong and the man that broke his chains is right there, glued to him like an armor.

“Take me inside.” Jimin asks in an almost secretive tone, turning around with the still hot weapon in his hand, nuzzling closely.

“Are you alright?” the other replies, voice laced with concern, arms circling his middle.

“I need you to fuck me.”


Their lips crashed together as soon as they barged through the door, hands antsy and uncoordinated, fumbling with too much fabric, aching to reach heated skin. Jimin escapes the leather jacket and sweater underneath it and promptly drops to his knees to claw at the belt and zipper as Yoongi almost tears his shirt buttons off.

“You can touch me now, touch me like you always wanted to ...” Jimin pants, hands finally reaching their target, palming eagerly at the growing bulge in the dark underwear, mesmerized by the ever larger patch of wetness on them.

“Fuck … Jimin ...” Yoongi tosses his shirt to the floor and tangles his hands in the other’s blond locks.

“Call me baby, please, please ...”


“Yeah … Like that ...”

“I’m so hard for you ...”

“Fuck my face, please. No mercy, just use me ...”

Jimin yanks the jeans and underwear off of Yoongi and as soon as the older’s aching member springs free it is instantly engulfed by his hungry, wet, hot mouth.

“Fuck!” Yoongi shouts, head falling back and hips bucking without his will. Jimin is taking him to the hilt, tiny tongue poking out to almost tickle his balls. He moves, feels guilty about it, especially when he hears the other choking and whimpering, but he needs this so badly, can’t hold it in. He looks down and meets Jimin’s blown, tear shiny eyes and he can clearly read in them the pleading so he grips his hair tighter and thrusts a few times. The younger’s eyes roll to the back of his head and he is completely blissed out. Yoongi begins fucking his throat in earnest, moans every time he can feel it constricting with the strain around his length, lets himself get hypnotized by the repetitive wet gulk sounds.

“Fuck, all those times you made me keep my hands off … tied me up … had your way with me … feels so good to finally have you like this … Ah, baby, I’m gonna cum, gonna fill your pretty mouth, feed you what you love most ...”

The second Jimin feels him twitching on his tongue he pulls back, releasing his dick, coughs and sniffles and listens to Yoongi cuss in frustration at being denied release.

“I’m sorry ...” he croaks and looks up at him apologetically.

“Why, baby? Why won’t you let me?”

“Want you to fuck me properly.”

Jimin stands, thighs shaking and shimmies out of his sweatpants then crawls on top of the covers of their shitty, noisy trailer bed.

“You mean it?”

“Yeah … please, come here!”

“Wait, lube ...”

“No lube.”

“Jiminie ...”

“Just spit, please, I want it to hurt … please, understand, I need it like this.”

Yoongi thinks he understands but wastes no more time lingering on it, his baby needs him and whatever Jimin needs, he will do without question. So he crawls on top of him, cradles him, kisses him longingly, tasting himself on his tongue, licking down the column on his neck, nipping and biting and marking him up good. His hands find Jimin’s pert nipples, latch on to them and twist and rub, making the other jolt and writhe in pleasure under him, moaning wantonly. Emboldened, Yoongi trails his tongue to them, sucks on the right one harshly, causing a slew of screams and whimpers and then does the same with the left one, repeating this little dance until Jimin’s entire chest is red and purple, his nipples sore and erect and there’s sweat covering his body in a glossy sheen.

“You’re so beautiful ...” he tells the younger, voice dipping deep and grumbly.

“Touch me, please, please ...”

Yoongi smiles at the desperation and obliges, finally peeling off the damp boxers only to have his lover seal his knees shut immediately after.

“What are you hiding from me, baby? You know I can’t touch you if I can’t see …”

“Don’t laugh ...” Jimin replies and slowly parts his legs to reveal the short, flushed length of his cock.

“Aww, baby, it’s so small and cute. It suits you so well.” Yoongi coos, making his partner’s cheeks flush crimson. He doesn’t give him a chance to wallow in his embarrassment, swallowing him down easily, tasting him and the delicious, abundant precum. Jimin keens, hips bucking and then moans when he’s being pinned down at the waist and sucked hungrily. He throws his head back on the pillows, grasping at them, needing to hold on to something as he feels like he is about to float away.

Yoongi has no intention of making him cum like this so he soon releases the cocklet and moves further south, releasing Jimin’s hips only to be able to spread apart his meaty, juicy ass cheeks to finally, finally, after so long, see his quivering hole.

“Do you even know how long I’ve dreamt of this? How many times I have done what I’m about to do to you in my imagination? How many times I had to settle for the fantasy? How badly it broke me?”

“I’m yours now … please ...”

“Damn right you are.”

Yoongi dives in like a starving man that has found the ripest peach. He licks hard and fast over the puckered entrance, tongue all out and flat against it and Jimin positively screams. When he feels him relaxing, feels the muscle give under his insisting ministrations he pulls back slightly, spits a fat glob right on it and goes in with the first finger.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes ...” the younger chants as his legs open more, shivers going up and down his body, making the hairs on his arms stand.

By the second finger Jimin is crying and drooling all over himself, fucked out already. When Yoongi crooks his long fingers and hits his sweet spot he wails, thighs trembling. And when he inserts the third digit the burn is so delicious it makes him drool and pull on his own hair, coming loose at the seams with the never before imagined pleasure.

“Tell me what you want, baby.”

“Mark me up … make me yours … please … please!”

Yoongi’s heard Jimin pleading before. He’d sat outside Namjoon’s bedroom door after coming to see him far too early or lingered after a meeting for far too long and he’d listen, listen to Jimin moan sweetly, sigh in content, ask so nicely for his daddy. But he had never heard Jimin scream like this, beg like he was hanging by a thread, this close to losing his sanity over being denied. No, this was something Yoongi was doing to him, he was the one pushing him to his breaking point, making him feel what he had never felt before. Years of having to settle for only his hand and picturing himself in someone else’s privileged position have finally come to this, to being able to worship at the only altar he’s ever cared to lay himself bare before, right here, between Jimin’s trembling parted legs. Lust consumes him as if he’s waited his entire life to allow it to. Yoongi bites into Jimin’s soft thighs, forcing sobs out of him. He can feel his lover’s tiny, unsure hands tangling in his hair, trying to defend himself weakly against the pain. He bites again and Jimin tries to push him away.

“Hands off.” he commands and it comes out almost like a growl. He’s immediately obeyed.

At this point there’s no controlling the hunger anymore. Yoongi grips Jimin forcefully and can feel him quivering in fear before he bites hard enoght to draw blood. Again and again, all he can see is red, all he can hear is the ever meaker screaming. By the time he is satiated Jimin’s thighs look like he’s been mauled by a wolf, bruised dark purple and bloodied. Yoongi tastes copper on his lips and he licks them like he was stained with nectar.

“ ‘M sorry … ‘m so sorry ...” the blond barely manages between hiccups.

“What are you sorry for?” Yoongi asks, bracketing the other with his arms on each side of his head and gently kissing the sweaty forehead.

“ Ever … being with … with anybody … that wasn’t you.”

“I’m so angry, baby ...” Yoongi confesses, still peppering kisses over the wet, red cheeks, the swollen, bitten lips, the edge of his trembling jaw. “ I’m scared of the thoughts that I’m having right now …” He nips at his jugular and licks over it soothingly before biting again, slightly harder. “ I wanna eat you up, wanna consume you, make you part of me so that I don’t ever have to live without you. I wanna erase him from you, burn away his every touch ...”

“Do it … please ...”

Yoongi snaps, his hands circling around Jimin’s bruised neck, pressing down. He watches the other just take it, just allowing him to take his air away, eyes shiny but calm, hands laying on either side of his head, palms up in supplication, not fighting back for even a moment. Yoongi’s chest rumbles with pleasure at the sight and without easing up his grip, he blindly thrusts a few times until his cock catches on the spit slick rim. He only releases Jimin and lets him take air in again once he’s fully inside.

Ah and it feels like heaven, feels like they are both breathing for the first time. Jimin’s unbelievably tight and hot and Yoongi’s cock is iron hard and throbbing.

Once he feels the younger crossing his ankles on the small of his back, Yoongi begins eagerly fucking him. It must burn, he knows that spit is not enough but the way Jimin is moaning and arching his body tells him that he’s enjoying it and he lives for the other’s pleasure.

He bucks into him harder and harder, folding the blond in half, the sound of wet skin against skin only covered up by the incessant moans and grunts and heavy breathing.

“Who fucks you better, baby, tell me!”

“You do… ah, ah … you do!”

“And who do you belong to? Fuck, tell me, baby, whose are you?”

“Yours … only yours!”

“Who loves you better, huh? Who?”

“Only you! Oh god … it hurts, it hurts … more! Want more! Please, please ...”

Yoongi scratches down Jimin’s body wherever he can reach, slaps his pillowy ass, his cherry red cheeks, twists his nipples and bites down until his neck is just as marred and bloody as his thighs.

“Who’s your daddy now, baby, huh?”

“You are! Ah! Ah! Daddy, daddy I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, baby, show daddy how much you love him.”

Jimin’s entire body seizes and spasms with his release, cumming all over his blemished chest in thick spurts, voice breaking on his final cry of ecstasy as drool runs down his chin freely.

“So beautiful, my pretty baby, so good for me ...”

“Don’t stop … “ Jimin hardly manages to plead once he realizes Yoongi had slowed down his pace to help him come down from his high. “Cum in me, make me yours ...”

“Fuck, baby ...”

It takes Yoongi only a few more harsh thrusts before he’s spilling inside his lover, trembling as he is being held by weak arms and kissed gently, so gently.

“God, Jimin, I love you so much ...” he mumbles, face pressed to the other’s neck.

“Do you forgive me…?” Jimin whispers, scared of the answer.

Yoongi manages to raise his head, looking his lover straight into his shining eyes.

“I do, baby, I do. But you’re mine from now on. Only mine.”

“I swear it.”

“Tell me then.”

“I love you.”




It was late in the night when Yoonji finally sobered up enough to take a cold shower. Her room looked a mess and it had taken her aback for a second as if forgetting she was the one that had done this to the place. To be fair, she did work in a sort of vodka and adrenaline induced trance-like state. But at least it was coming together at long last, at least she had found her footing again.

The laptop was still running, she had no intentions of turning it off. There was only one notification from Jimin that was just informing her to call it at night and talk tomorrow. Nonetheless, she let the lid of the device open, just in case.

As she was drying off her hair, thoughts jumping from one scenario to another, her phone began vibrating, an unknown number.


“Hello, Yoonji-yah, sorry to bother you so late.” came the now familiar saccharine tone.”It’s Seokjin.”

“I’m not even gonna ask how you got my number ...”

“Good choice. Listen, I’ve sent a man to talk to your brother but he was very stubborn about my proposal. I’m sorry to tell you but he has vanished.”

Yoonji doesn’t say anything, not wanting to let Seokjin know that she is aware that her brother was in hiding with Jimin.


“I’m … sorry. Was he ok though?”

“As far as my man could tell, yes. But he has unfortunately fallen under a snake’s spell. If you recall your informant, Jimin.” he might as well have spat the name out. Yoonji makes a sound of agreement. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do anymore. Not until he realizes for himself the mistake he’s made.”

“I appreciate your efforts, Seokjin-ssi.”

“Aish, am I not your oppa?” comes a giggle that shouldn’t suit a grown man so well. “There’s actually one more thing. I’d like to invite you to a party. Well, it’s more than a party, even though it is just symbolic ...”


“My wedding, Yoonji-yah. I’m inviting you to my wedding.”

“What?! Don’t you hate Kim Namjoon?!”

“What?! Of course, I do! I don’t even want to hear his name again! I’ve found someone I trust will never betray me. So, will you come?”

Yoonji can’t help her burst of laughter. She laughs so loudly she almost doubles over, her eyes wetting from the strain. Oh, this was perfect.

“I’m sorry, Seokjin oppa. This is great news. Of course I’ll come!”




Hoseok was sucking on his third lollipop, leaning against his motorcycle when the blinding lights of a car startled him, making him instantly tense up, hands ready to reach for the gun. He doesn’t have to though, the car parking not too far from him and Dr. Kim’s figure emerging from it shortly after.

“You can relax, mr. Jung.” he calls out, raising his hand as a salute.

“Sorry, I’ve been antsy sitting in this fucking parking lot in the middle of the night.”

“Lack of people is not a threat.”

“It is in Daegu. This place’s wild.”

“You would know better.”

They shake hands and Dr. Kim promptly pulls out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Hoseok with a cheeky smile.

“I had to break every doctor-patient confidentiality rule in the book to get you this meeting.”

“I owe you big time, doc.”

“That you do, mr. Jung but I’ll settle for you taking down the Kims.”

“I’ve never seen the guy before, how is he? The Dragon?” Hoseok asks, peaking at the time and location written on the paper.

“The Dragon is a hyper-masculine power dream persona meant to intimidate and assert dominance. Kwon Jiyong, however, is a neurotic young man in desperate need of affection and validation.”

“A sheep in wolf’s clothing. Cool. Shouldn’t be too hard to convince him.”

“I’m not worried about you dealing with Jiyong. Kim Kangmin is the real challenge.”

“He’s a husk. I’ll make him talk.”

“I hope that you do. You need to return to Seoul as soon as possible. You are needed there.”

“How are things?”

“Falling apart.”

Chapter Text

Taehyung wakes up with his head pounding like a drum, his hands flying to cover his eyes from the bright morning light. He’s sober, he realizes, he can tell by how hyper aware of his own body he is, pain flaring up from his limbs and from deep within him. He tries shifting to the side and once his legs move even the slightest, his behind feels like it’s being stabbed. Whimpering and shivering with cold sweats he manages to turn.

Seokjin and Jungkook are on the other side of the bed, half awake themselves, kissing languidly, tongues circling each other noisily. Taehyung watches Jungkook hold Seokjin with both his hands, caressing the gentle slope of his cheeks, bracketing him protectively, thigh between the other’s legs to give him something to rut against. It looks so perfectly loving. Seokjin’s engagement ring catches some light and it shines so powerfully it casts sparkles all over the canopy. It’s a picture perfect moment. Taehyung feels like throwing up, retching dryly, catching the youngest’s attention.

“Hey, doll ...” he smiles toothly, reaching out to push Taehyung’s bangs out of his eyes. He recoils as if stung. “Are you alright?”

They both had used him thoroughly last night, chocked him, beat him, burnt him, had him faint more than a couple of times, took him in turns, took him together, pissed on him, in him, made him profess his love over and over until he almost believed it himself. No, he wasn’t alright. He missed Hoseok, missed the way he was in control with him, how he allowed himself to be vulnerable with him, trusted him, cherished him despite it all. Taehyung wasn’t loved here, he knew that, but he was needed and at the end of the day these two were just like him, monstrous. Especially Jungkook.

“Want me to bring you some water, Tae?” he says sweetly.

“Please ...” he manages.

Planting another kiss on Seokjin’s plush lips, Jungkook gets up in all his unabashed naked glory and heads out of the room to get a glass. He acts as if he owns the place. Perhaps he now does. Surprised screams are heard from down the corridor followed by the youngest’s laughter. Jin scoffs and runs a hand through his hair.

“Can you believe it, Tae?”

He means the proposal, this whole situation and to be honest, he does believe it, Jungkook had always been a loose cannon.

“He wants me as I am. He loves me just like this. I thought … I thought I’d never hear an honest I love you.”

It’s not honest, Taehyung wants to scream it. He’s tricking you, he only loves the power you give him and even that is not enough anymore, he wants it all.

“Have you told him …?” Tae manages, voice broken and hoarse.

“He’ll find out eventually. I don’t wanna … I don’t wanna be the one to tell him.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid, I just … He’ll go mad, I know he will.”

“You don’t want to hurt him.”

“I’m not like him. He killed my mother in cold blood. I’m not that cruel. I won’t hurt him on purpose.”

“But you’re gonna rip his heart out when you marry Jungkook.”

“He doesn’t have a heart, Tae.”

Jungkook returns and luckily busies himself with helping Taehyung drink and doesn't notice the unshed tears in Seokjin’s eyes. But Taehyung does, he sees them and he sees the uncertainty behind them, he hears the fear in his broken voice. This is a mistake, this is just desperation.

“Are you ok, hyungie?”

“I’m fine, Kook. I just gotta get dressed, have some errands to run ...”

“Oh no, no, none of that.”

Jungkook quickly makes his way to the other side of the bed, pinning Seokjin down with his ever stronger arms and shutting him up with kisses. It’s poison, he’s dripping poison. Taehyung shivers.

“You stay home, relax, enjoy the day and if you really wanna do something you can start planning our reception. I’ll take care of business.”

“But I gotta check on the main branches, we’ve been getting way more money than usual, something’s up ...”

“Nothing’s up, silly. I’ve just implemented a few new ideas and they’re working.”

“Ideas? What ideas, Jungkook?”

“Stop worrying so much, Jinnie. I’ve got it all under control. You can lean on me, yeah? Trust me, everything’s more than ok.”

Jungkook looks at him with his big eyes and wide smile and Seokjin sighs, sagging against the pillows in defeat. The venom’s working.

“Fine ...”

“There’s my princess!” the younger giggles.

“Don’t call me that!”

“Ok, ok, grumpy.”

“I mean it. Don’t ever call me that.”

Jungkook kisses him, placates him with his skilled tongue and soft lips, holding onto his hands, caressing his knuckles, touching the ring like a trophy.

“I won’t, promise. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Thank you. I didn’t mean to raise my voice ...”

“It’s alright. I’ll go get dressed. I’ll call you later, ok?”

“Ok… Jungkook.”


“I love you.”

The way Seokjin looks up at him, eyes full of hope, bottom lip trembling slightly, the way Jungkook smiles, blindingly, leans down, kisses him breathless one last time.

“I love you too.”

Taehyung’s never felt more sober.




Jimin opens his eyes and he is confused for a few moments. The light that filters in from outside is not terribly bright and he realizes it’s because of the dirty, raggedy drapes that stand in its way. Right, he wasn’t in the penthouse anymore, hasn’t been there in a short while now. He has no reason to wake up, no breakfast and morning routine to see to, no obligations. He can just be lazy in bed. He hears a faint snore from his side and it’s coming from under the cover from which only a tuft of raven hair peaks out. Yoongi must be so tired after last night … Jimin shifts, turns towards him and feels his ass and thighs burning. He can only imagine how bruised he must be. He had needed that, needed to feel alive for once, feel like he was made of flesh and blood and not porcelain. Yoongi had claimed him like a wild thing but he didn’t treat him delicately, didn’t go slow and gentle. Jimin was so grateful for that. He nuzzles closer, kisses the top of his lover’s head and carefully pushes the covers off to reveal the sweet, sleeping face. He watches him for a while, caresses the soft slopes of his cheeks and nose and lips, tries his best to memorize his features. His entire life he’s only ever slept with Taehyung and Namjoon and both of them used to wake up before him. This was a nice change of pace. Soon Yoongi huffs and yawns and eventually opens his cat-like eyes. He smiles, gummy and beautiful and Jimin blushes to the tips of his ears.

“Morning, baby.”

“Yoonie ...”

Jimin’s vision starts swimming and before he can do anything about it the tears start falling. Yoongi immediately embraces him, holds him tight, shushes him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing … I’m just so happy ...”


“Yeah … I’m alive, Yoonie, I can feel stuff … like I … my ass hurts and my neck and thighs and I’m hungry and I need to take a piss and … fuck, I can cuss now too… shit ...” Jimin babbles and Yoongi can’t help his giggles.

“You can cuss all you want, baby. And eat whatever you want and however much you want and get up when you please and do whatever.”

“I wanna eat seven slices of toast with jam.”

“I’ll make you eight just in case.”

“Wanna have ‘em in bed.”

“I’ll bring them to you.”

“Wanna stay naked and work from bed.”

“I’ll get you the laptop’s extra battery.”

“I wanna shoot some more.”

“I’ll find you some more cans and bottles.”

“I wanna get fucked again, want you to take me from behind on the floor ...”

“I’ll take you however way you want me to, wherever you want me to, baby, I’ll even fuck you outside in the field and have you crawl back inside with cum dripping out of your used hole ...”

It takes them another hour to finally get out of bed, at which point Jimin had to hold on to furniture to get from point a to point b. He had overestimated his stamina but damn, it felt so good to be wanted like this, to be treated as an equal.

Jimin takes a cold shower in an attempt to reduce the swelling around his bruised and bitten areas and then lathers himself with some herbal cream he finds in the small bathroom. It should be good enough, he’ll live, he has so many reasons to now. He checks himself out in the mirror, looks at this young man with his short and fairy like physique, messy hair with roots showing, splotches of purple and red all over and smiles. He likes this Jimin, this Jimin looks like he’s having fun, like he’s working hard, like he doesn’t let days pass him by.

He wolfs down the toast Yoongi brings him, all eight slices and licks his fingers and burps, making his lover jokingly protest before he finally settles against the lumpy pillows, laptop on top of a blanket on his lap. Yoongi shows up soon after, two mugs of coffee in his hands and settles next to him, handing him the one that had enough milk and sugar to taste like syrup.

“Your sis is not online.” Jimin informs him.

“She wakes up late usually, unless she has to be somewhere.”

“I can’t wait to meet her. Do you think she’ll like me?”

“She’ll love you. I’m not sure how she’ll feel about me ...” Yoongi worries his lip, staring at his black drink when Jimin kisses him until the frown goes away.

“She’ll understand. I’m sure. C’mon, enough with the pity party. Let’s check the news. See what’s up in the world.”

It takes 2 seconds for the news website to load, another 3 seconds for them to read the front page title and exactly one second for both of them to jump out of bed.

Monster Plaza in flames. Firefighters confirm arson.” The pictures that follow the words in bold are grainy but still clear enough to show Namjoon’s unmistakable figure as he throws canisters of petrol at his own casino.

“What the fuck triggered him so badly?” Jimin asks as he struggles to put on a pair of jeans.

“Fuck knows but he’s clearly lost it, we gotta get as far away from Seoul as possible.” Yoongi replies while tossing whatever is near him in their travel bags.

“It’s 11 o’clock, if we hurry we can sneak on the midday train while they change the tracks.”

“I’ll load our guns just in case, you write to Yoonji, let her know we had to skip town and we won't be in contact for a few days.”

Yoongi hardly had time to put the bullet clip in the magazine when a thunderous round of knocks made their rickety door quake. They both freeze. Another round of knocking almost brings down the door. Yoongi eyes Jimin and silently hands him the gun, signals for him to take cover as he grips the handle.

“Who is it?” he shouts.

“You know damn well, who it is, Yoons. Open up!”

He thought he’s never seen Namjoon more roughed up than when he tried to kill him and Jimin and yet this time he looked far worse. His clothes were in tethers and his split lip and bruises attested to the fights he must’ve gotten into before arriving here. He reeked of smoke and gunpowder and alcohol and the roots of his grey hair were now white. Yoongi didn’t budge from the doorway.

“How ...”

“Four fucking years by my side, you thought I wouldn’t know where your hideout is? Please...”

Namjoon sways and catches himself before falling, leaning on the side of the door.

“What do you want, Namjoon?”

“He’s … he’s getting married ...”

Yoongi’s brows turn downwards into a frown at first, unsure of what he heard then the moment he realizes they shoot up into his hairline. No way. No way that was possible. He hesitates, looks over his shoulder at Jimin who was holding the gun with both hands in the correct position, ready to shoot at any moment. The blond nods and raises his gun. Yoongi turns to his former boss.

“Get your ass inside.”

Namjoon huffs and smiles, whispering thanks. He follows Yoongi, sways a little more, holds on to furniture and eventually collapses on a chair in the tiny kitchenette, long legs splayed out, heavy head resting in his hand. He hears the safety of a gun being pulled.

“Hey, Jimin.” Namjoon salutes before even looking at the younger.

“I won’t hesitate this time.” Jimin warns him.

“I’m counting on it.”

“Did you come here just to have a pity party?” Yoongi intervenes, putting himself between the two. “What do you mean Jin’s getting married?”

“ He … I’ve just heard about it this morning … from someone I trust. He’s marrying some kid that joined the clan like last year or something, a fucking opportunistic teenager ...”

“And you thought burning down the casino was a good reaction?”

“The penthouse too … Had a rough morning.” Namjoon smiles, dimples showing. Jimin looks away.

Yoongi just huffs, incredulous, then smiles as well, cusses, pulls out a cold bottle of water from the mini fridge and hands it to Namjoon who gratefully gulps it down. Jimin inches closer, carefully stepping around his former lover to cling to Yoongi’s back, nuzzling him but his grip on the weapon not weakening for a second.

“You look cute together.” Namjoon comments.

“Fuck off.” his ex-lieutenant laughs.

“I mean it. I’m sorry for … before.”

“Trying to kill us?”

“Yeah, that. I react badly to betrayal.”

“For the last fucking time, we didn’t ...”

“It doesn’t matter, Yoons, it’s ok. Even if you did, it’s alright.”

“Oh, is it? So you’re not here to end us?”

“No, don’t worry. I just … I need some advice. And you are my best friend.”

Yoongi says nothing at that, just looks deeply into Namjoon’s eyes for a few moments, trying to read anything other than sincerity. When he can’t find anything to make him doubt he turns to Jimin, asking him wordlessly what to do. The blond sighs, deeply, exhausted. He kisses Yoongi’s nose and puts the safety back on the gun, before tucking it in his jeans’ waistband.

“You really need to learn how to treat your friends better.” Jimin tells the mobster before he moves to make them some tea.




Yoonji wakes up at 12 after sleeping through five alarms. She considers this a new record and can’t even bring herself to be mad about it. Rubbing her eyes, before she even gets up to go to the bathroom, she lifts the lid of the laptop and blinks until she can clearly see the screen. Jimin had sent her something not too long ago. She tries willing her mind to work and her bladder to wait as she looks at the folder full of images. They’re from a party, candids of all sorts, people in suits having a good time. She doesn’t understand.

Suddenly her phone starts dinging as text messages are coming through. Yoonji groans and focuses on the smaller yet somehow brighter screen. Messages from her team. Former team? Still her team? They’re wondering about her wellbeing, if she’s coming to the station today, if they should drop by with some food. Yoonji thinks that they’re really nice girls, tough as nails all three of them but still kind and patient with her. She half-asses a reply, bullshits that she’s got the stomach flu but she’ll be in tomorrow.

Before turning her phone on airplane mode she notices another notification from her newsletter. Something about a fire … at the Monster Plaza, she reads, Kim Namjoon, the very private multimillionaire businessman was seen setting his own establishment on fire before fleeing from the police. Oh, Yoonji thinks, he did find out. Bummer. Then something clicks. The photos of the casino from the news article and the photos she had in her folder …

The décor was different, different furniture and lights but everything else was the same. These photos were taken at a party inside the Monster Plaza. Then who are those people?

She shouldn’t, she knows this, but she uses her credentials and password to access the police’s resources and sure enough there they were. Wanted criminals of all sorts, many considered dead or gone, having left the country, some never even had their real names on the record, ghosts. Yet they were all there, having a blast at Namjoon’s place.

Yoonji then has another aha moment when she recognizes a few other faces but these were not gangsters, these were higher-ups in the justice system, politicians, news outlet owners. A bit of googling yielded the identities of the remaining ones, doctors and businessmen.

Namjoon was in none of the pictures, Yoonji notes, but she understands what she is looking at now. Of course the head of the lower Kim clan wasn’t in the shots, he had them taken. This was entrapment, this was blackmail material.

“Sons of bitches ...” she mutters to herself before stretching and heading towards the bathroom. She had to take a long shower, wash her hair, iron her best power suit, load her gun. She had a lot to do.




Hoseok feels slightly out of place when he’s escorted by a butler wearing a suit with tails through the long hallways above which sparkly chandeliers hung heavily. He flinched when a grandfather clock rung twelve times and he was frankly relieved when the man finally told him to “Please wait here, Sir. The master will arrive momentarily.”

The room he is in is very spacious and sunny, no curtains in the way of the floor to ceiling windows and the tasteful, white, minimalist furniture contrasted so much with the ever present huge chandeliers and the various crystal and diamond decorations. He felt like he was going to meet Batman or something.

As he waited, he stared outside at the beautiful landscape, this villa being sat atop a hill made for a great view.

He didn’t hear the owner of the place come in until he was already close to him. Hoseok jumps, startled.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” the man says. He’s wearing a ridiculously long red silk robe with golden flower patterns on it and … that’s it. That’s all he is wearing. Did he just wake up? A cat comes up from behind him, purring and rubbing itself against his bare calves and the man picks it up, cradles it and nuzzles it.

“Kwon Jiyong?” Hoseok asks to be sure.

“Yep.” the man replies, face smushed in the cat’s fur.

“The Dragon?” Hoseok asks again.

“That’s me. And you’re Jung Hosuck.”


“Right. How can I help you?” the mobster turns, making his robe billow behind him before he seats himself on a soft armchair and gestures for Hoseok to do the same opposite him.

“I’m not gonna beat around the bush with you, I’m a cop.”

“I know. Dr. Kibum told me. You’re on some suicide mission against the Kim clans.”

“I wouldn’t call it suicidal ...”

“Namjoon alone has 20 professional assassins in his service that I know of. Seokjin has none because he doesn’t need someone to do something he’s perfectly capable of on his own.”

“Well, when you put it like that ...”

“I don’t want things to get messy.” Jiyong says, scratching behind his cat’s ear. “My family has suffered enough at the hands of the Kims ever since old Kangmin was running the show. Yes, we are criminals but even we should have limits. Kims have no limits.”

“They’ve pretty much massacred the Kwon dynasty.” Hoseok states, point blank. Jiyong kisses the top of the cat’s head.

“I’m the only one left. My family used to rule Seoul and from there half of Asia. We got chased out by Kim and his dog from Ilsan. Now I’m just trying to mind my own business, pull all my men out from the capital eventually and perhaps move it all to Japan.”

“Is that the legacy you want to leave behind?”

Jiyong looks at him from behind his pet’s head, eyes just as feline. His comment touched a nerve.

“Choose your next words carefully, Mr. Jung.”

“I want to help you regain control of Seoul.”

Jiyong smiles and leans back in his chair while the cat turns in his lap a few times before settling.

“If you want to work for me I can easily arrange that, I can always use more cops on my side. There’s no need for such dramatic declarations.”

“I’m serious.” Hoseok tells him, leans in, resting his elbows on his knees. “I want the Kims gone and I’ve realized this past year that it’s impossible to get rid of them by legal means. So I’m choosing to replace one evil with another.”

“A more manageable one, perhaps? You think the Kwon clan is easier to handle than the Kims.”

“All due respect, but you only deal drugs and prostitutes and the occasional theft. Kims, on the other hand, are trading guns internationally, trafficking people, performing illegal organ transplants and the list goes on. I’d rather let you cover Seoul in cocaine like it was snow than have to deal with the aftermath of their destruction.”

The cat yawns and begins purring and Jiyong coos at her, petting her back.

“You think I haven’t fought the Kims so far? They’re much stronger than me.”

“You’ve fought them on the streets. I have a different idea.”


“Can you get me to Kim Kangmin?”

“Sure. But what good can talking to the fossil do?”

“He’s the only one that can tell Seokjin the truth about what happened to his mother and Namjoon’s parents.”


“If the Kims will have each other again then they won’t need anything else.”

Chapter Text

Perhaps he was a bit tipsy. He had underestimated the raspberry wine. Jin’s hands move over the fabric without processing its softness, its weight. Things seem immaterial. He feels slightly floaty, mostly confused, dazed. The song coming from the speakers on a low volume is soothing but it only half reaches his ears, he just knows it’s about longing for a man.

He had picked a white 3 piece suit and a pink silk shirt. Jungkook was going to wear black and blue. Contrasting, fitting. The younger looks good in dark colors whereas Jin had always been partial to pastels.

He notices the ring again, sparkly. He flinches and almost drops his half full flute of wine. Carefully he sets it on his vanity and collapses on his bed, sheets billowing around him. What was he doing?

He eyes the ring once more. It’s so beautiful, must have cost Jungkook a fortune, perhaps all his savings. Jin felt loved, wanted. It was a nice feeling.

Shame coils in his stomach at the thought. Did he love Jungkook as much as the younger loved him? Would he buy him a diamond ring? Sure. Plan a month-long honeymoon? Of course. Hand him over half of the clan?

Jin felt like he was giving Jungkook more than half. Sure, their marriage is mostly symbolic but it sends a clear message to the upper Kim clan. Jin will no longer be the only master, Jin has relented at least half of his power to someone else.

And Jungkook is ambitious, always had this fire inside of him and Jin had done nothing but make it grow, make it engulf more, made him greedy and relentless. He knows that at one point the young master will become the only master.

Did Jin mind it though? Was it too big a price to pay for being loved? After all, there’s nothing he ever wanted more than to be loved and accepted and devoted to.

He shifts, turns on his back and stares at the canopy. He’ll have to replace it. Renovate the whole house, change it more to Kookie’s taste. It was time to move on from the pink and the pastels. He was no longer going to be princess Jin, he could no longer harbor those fantasies.

He wishes Namjoon could be happy without him. He wonders if he had made a mistake outing Jimin. Yeah, he was a rat but he was also the only person on Namjoon’s side. Jimin had been his substitute and now, with him gone, Namjoon has nobody …

Jin’s eyes water at that thought and he tries his best not to cry, covering his face with his hands, sniffling into his sleeves.

This is how Taehyung finds him when he quietly enters the room.

“Seokjin hyung…?”

Seokjin startles and is quick to get up and put on his mask but it’s pointless, they both know what was happening.

“Did… did you talk to the doctor?”

“Yeah, he patched me up, thank you ...”

“No problem.”

“I’ll head over to the club if that’s ok. Feel like dancing for a bit ...”

“I don’t want you working the pole anymore, Tae.”

“No, I’m going now, before it opens, just wanna keep my mind busy. Think I should take it easy with the meth for a bit ...”

“Oh, yeah, you should. Um… Taemin should be there, he can play some music for you, turn on some lights if you want ...”
“Yeah, sounds good.”

They just look at each other for a few moments. Last time the dancer had seen Seokjin so roughed up was the night that they met, when he let out all his rage on him. Now there was no fury left, just bottomless sorrow and no amount of hurting others would stop the hurt he was feeling inside.

“It’s not too late.” Taehyung says, barely audible, afraid to actually voice some advice, some comfort.


“He burnt up the casino and his own home. He’s hurting just as much as you are.”

“I’m not hurting.”

“Jungkook doesn’t love you like Namjoon does.”

“Jungkook’s never hurt me like Namjoon has.”

“Not yet.”

“You’re crossing the line, Taehyung. Remember your place.”

“Seokjin I’ve known you for years and please, can I just say this, as the person that has had to endure the most from you? You are not fully a monster.”

“Shut up ...”

“You run an illegal donor program to get organs for people with no chances on the waiting list, you offer sex workers a home, medical care, even education if they want it, you use blackmail and bribery to get politicians to not pass harmful bills, you use money from drug sales to donate to charity, you destroy all weapons you buy because guns killed your mother ...”

“Namjoon killed my mother! And he killed whatever humanity was left in me that same day! Don’t you fucking dare stand here and tell me who I am when I know god damn well there’s no redeeming me! Jungkook my hurt me in the future, sure, but at least he can never turn me into something worse than I’ve already become!”

He’s crying, he realizes after he finishes screaming those words. Taehyung’s eyes are swimming as well and he wants to hug the dancer, wants to apologize for all that he’s done to him but he knows that it would be pointless, that he’d slam him to the floor again if the mood struck him. He’s unfixable, hopeless and he doesn’t need to hear anything comforting, he just wants to be alone already.

Taehyung reads the situation right, whispers his apology for his outburst and leaves in a hurry, the door closing behind him with a soft click. Seokjin sobs and falls to his bed again, clenching his fists in the pillows. It hurts, it hurts so badly and inexplicably. He’s angry because he has become this monster but he’s also ashamed that there are few out there that still think he’s salvageable even though he knows he’s not.

The phone rings and Seokjin doesn’t want to pick up. The ringing continues, the bubbly song he has set as his ringtone playing almost halfway through. He figures it might be Jungkook so he wipes his nose and clears his throat before grabbing his phone. However, it is not his fiance but Yoonji.

“Hello, oppa.”

“Am I dreaming?”

“You tell me. How are you? Are you busy?”

“Just … planning the wedding. you’re still coming right?”

“I wouldn't miss it. I’ve actually gotten you an early present.”


“Turn on the news.”



Yoonji blinked several times but she could still see sparkles. The camera flashes had been overwhelming, more so than the clamor and the noise. She had delivered the official police statement and now her face is all over the news, breaking news, online magazines, afternoon newspapers. The biggest bust in the last 50 years.

She takes shelter in the police station but it’s far from a haven. Sure, she escapes the bombardment of questions from every journalist in the capital but the place is just as much a warzone as the one outside. The holding cells were full to capacity, even a bit over. There were people handcuffed to chairs even, and only half of the police officers present, the other half having fled upon hearing what had happened.

It took Yoonji a few days but she hunted down and cuffed the big fish herself, sat through the several stakeouts alone, didnt sleep for a minute and managed to bust fucker after fucker, big time judges and politicians and chaebols. Once panic had set in the rest fell into her net one by one like dominos. Then Yoonji fell into a 14-hour black sleep only to wake up, put her face on and go face the music, writing her so called speech on a napkin at a random Starbucks on her way to the police station. She made it seem like this had been a collective effort on the part of the Seoul metropolitan police and not a one woman mission against Namjoon’s every single line of defense. She wanted whoever was still clinging to the lower Kim clan that it was over.

Once her visioned cleared Yoonji could see Jessi throwing her hands up to the ceiling, smiling brightly at her, loudly asking:

“How the fuck, girl, how the fuck did you do it?”

They hug and there are more arms than expected, Hyolin and Hyejin having joined their happy circle.

“Stomach flu, what a bunch of crap.” Hyolin laughs.

“How tho? How?” Hyejin presses.

“My brother came through.”

That’s when they all notice Superintendant Choi heading their way, shoulders squared, face deadly serious.

“Yoonji.” he stops right in front of her, the girls backing away.

“Yes, Sir.”

The man bows, deeply and from his humbling position says:

“Allow me to apologize. I have deeply misjudged your character and underestimated you as an officer. For my misguided actions and words, I am so sorry.”

She’s taken aback, eyes wide and full of surprise. there’s this feeling of warmth in her chest though. He hadn’t been wrong, she isn’t a good person, she did cut corners, she was a coward. But having someone acknowledge the good in her felt incredibly nice.

“Stop it, Siwon-ssi, it’s ok.”

It takes the man another few moments to stand straight again but once he does he smiles at her and hugs her just as tightly as the rest of her team.

“Guys,” Yoonji addresses them while also pulling them carefully downstairs towards their HQ. ”I know this is sudden and dismantling the lower Kim clan is gonna be grueling work we need to get on asap but ...”

“Oh no.”

“I have this wedding to attend soon and I was wondering how fast can we organize the biggest sting this country has ever seen?”



“What flavor do you want? EDM, deep house…?”

“Got anything jazzy?”

“Psss… Lame but yeah.”

Taemin had left Taehyung to swing on the pole and prance around the main stage to his heart’s content. He did watch for a while, of course, what else to do while drying shot glasses? But he became sad the more he watched. You see, Taehyung looked like a ghost. Through his chiffon harem pants and top, he could see the dark, dark bruises and cuts. And sure, this wasn’t something new, but there was something different this time in just how distant the dancer’s eyes were, how unmoving his lips, how painful every move seemed yet he didn’t stop. Taehyung had no real energy to hang upside down on the pole like he liked to and there was a sense of defeat in that. So Taemin left him alone, the sole shadow moving in the empty, echoing club.

Taehyung had taken his heels off because he just couldn’t keep his balance well. He felt shorter without them, more insignificant and he can’t help but wonder why he had ever thought he was important, that he could make a difference, that he could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

He focuses on the music, on the unknown singer’s croony voice going on and on about a man she had met on the dance floor. And then he hears the footsteps and he’s unsure if they are his own or from the song. He spins around the pole, hanging by one hand and then he sees him. Hoseok.

Hoseok standing there, looking up at him, Hoseok in some loose clothes that don’t look like his with a dopey, blinding smile that is most surely his. Taehyung’s already unsteady legs wobble and before he can collapse Hoseok jumps on the small stage and catches him.

“Are you even real?” Taehyung asks, afraid. Hoseok chuckles.

“Wanna see for yourself?” he opens his arms, an invitation. The younger hesitates for one second before clinging to him, using all the strength left in his body to squeeze, to get closer, press himself harder. Hoseok is so warm, so hard, so real. His hair is a bit longer now and he smells strange, nothing like home. But it’s him, it’s really him. Taehyung cries, he can’t help it, hides his face in the man’s shoulder and cries while Hoseok strokes his back in soothing circles and shushes him and kisses the top of his head.

“Where… where did you ….” the dancer tries, between hiccups.

“Had to do something before things got out of hand. I went to Kwon.”

Taehyung wipes his tears away even though they don’t stop coming and tries to look Hoseok in the eyes, to make sure that what he was hearing was true.

“Why ...”

“In my back pocket, there’s an USB that will take down the Kims.”

“You… made a deal with … the dragon ...”

“I made a trade. To end all this. To get Yoongi back and set you free, to spare so many people so much hurt.”

“But you… you should’ve ...”

“Should’ve what, baby?” Hoseok leans in and Taehyung’s lips tremble, he wants this, he’s missed it and he still can’t believe it when the kiss finally happens. He keens, kisses back, moans, opens up for more, god it feels so good after so long and then the other just stops. “Should’ve waited for you to give us more info?” Hoseok can feel him flinch and tense up so he holds him tighter, doesn’t allow him to run away. “I wanted to send the contents of this USB to my laptop but Kwon’s hackers said they can’t access it, had too many firewalls set up in a style they knew was unique to someone named V. So I thought what are the odds of me knowing both a dancer and a hacker by the same nickname? You’ve never looked up avocado recipes, have you?”

Taehyung tries to wiggle away, whines when he can’t budge Hoseok vice-like grip on him and settles for just sighing and lowering his head.

“I didn’t know it reached you, I sent the physical files to the police station in hopes that they would reach Min Yoongi’s sister. I didn’t know you knew her … I didn't know you were a cop when we first met … I’ve never meant … to lie to you….”

Hoseok lifts his chin, gently but firmly and shuts him up with a kiss before the younger starts crying again. He kisses him until the whimpers stop, until he can feel the smaller body relax in his arms, until Taehyung is kissing him back just as feverishly.

“You were in so much danger and I never even knew … If something happened to you, Tae, I would’ve gone mad. You should’ve told me, should’ve trusted me ...”

“I didn’t wanna put anyone in danger … I thought I had gathered enough info to put them away ...”

“How did you even...”

“I hacked Yoongi’s phones and laptop. And I made digital copies of all of Seokjin’s transactions, wrote down all the names of the people that my clients used to spill without thinking ...It took me years...”

“Baby… But it worked, alright? It was all worth it, Namjoon is done for and now all we have to do is handle Seokjin.”

“Namjoon’s done… how?”

“You don’t know? Yoonji’s just arrested all of his key men, all his defense lines are gone. Didn’t… didn’t you give her all the evidence she needed?”

“No… I didn’t … get to ...Oh no...”

It hits him like a wall of ice. All his time wasted in a blind stupor, lost in depression and high out of his mind, all those days spent in Seokjin’s bed … when he said he had taken care of the rat problem. Oh how stupid he had been, how could he have let this happen?

“Baby, you’re shaking ...”



“We have to get out of here! Please, Hobi, there’s no time!”



Namjoon’s eyes are closing so he quickly rubs his face and pinches his cheeks. He has to stay awake or else he’ll crash the car. On the back seat, Yoongi is unmoving and Jimin is using him as a pillow to sleep on, snoring ever so softly as he has always done.

“I can drive for a while.” Yoongi’s gruff voice comes and Namjoon eyes his tired face in the mirror.

“It’s alright. don’t wanna wake up Minnie.”

“Don’t call him that.”

Namjoon smiles and nods.

“When did you fall for him?”

Yoongi groans and tries to look out the window, feigning indifference but there’s nothing to see outside, just darkness and the distant lights of Seoul. They were headed towards Yoongi’s old apartment since Namjoon had burnt down his place and was wanted for arson.

“First time I laid eyes on him.” he eventually replies, hand moving to stroke Jimin’s shoulder, the younger settling his head more comfortably on his lap, almost purring.
“You joined me for him.”

“I shot my best friend for him. Did everything you told me for him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for? You didn’t know.”

“I did … After I made you my second in command and you started spending more time around the both of us. I saw the way you looked at him. I used to look at Jin the same way.”

Yoongi says nothing for a while, just keeps petting his lover, listening to the engine’s sounds and watching them getting ever closer to their destination, back in that damn city where everything went to shit.

“Have you thought about what you are going to say to him?” Yoongi eventually says.

“Not really … Any suggestions?”

“I haven’t crashed a wedding before.”

“Just say that you love him.” Jimin says and yawns right after, stretching as well as he can in the confines of the car. “Should be enough, right? It’s not like he doesn’t feel the same.”

“I…. I’m not so sure about that.” Namjoon admits, gripping the wheel tighter at the thought.

“Please, yours was the breakup of the century. You don’t cause mayhem for years just because you’re over it. Seokjin’s just as whipped as you are.”

Namjoon manages a smile and nods his thanks to Jimin. The blond smiles in return and then kisses Yoongi, having sensed the other’s grumpiness.

“Would you terrorize the capital if I broke up with you?” Jimin asks his lover.

“I’d burn it to the ground.”

“Just don’t burn your house in the process as well, lest you wanna end up crashing on your friend’s sofa for the next week.” Namjoon advises and somehow it’s enough to make them all laugh for a bit.

The mobster turns on the radio, settles for a random station that is playing some jazzy tune and they spend the rest of the night drive in comfortable silence.



Jungkook looks over the Seoul city nightscape and he smiles full of content. The new penthouse is so high above any other buildings that it makes him feel like he owns the entire capital. Perhaps he does or at least he’s close to doing so. Soon he’ll be the second most powerful man in Asia and later the most powerful.

He never expected his summer long obsession with a once only rumored gangster to take him this far. Kim Seokjin had made him king but Jungkook was going to put the crown on his head on his own. And then turn his dominion into an empire. He loved Seokjin for that reason and that reason alone. The man had ripped every fear from him, taught him all he had to know, made him ruthless, made him unbreakable. Seokjin had raised him from boy to beast. He is going to treat him right, make sure he never has to work another day in his life, see to his every need and pleasure and fancy. he’ll treat him like his idol.

But he’ll also take in return what is meant to be his. He’ll take the power, all of it. it’s an exchange, after all, love for power. Jungkook thinks it’s more than fair, they both have a deeply seeded need, an itch that is in desperate need of scratching, they’ll help each other, they’ll be ok.

However, there is still one cloud on his otherwise clear blue sky.

Jungkook pulls out his phone again, ignores Seokjin’s texts for now and goes into his contact list and presses call again. It rings and it rings and it rings until the robotic voice asks him again to leave a message.

He has to say something to Yoonji, he’s not sure what, but once he hears her voice his thoughts will clear and words will come to him but … she never picks up.

Chapter Text

Yoonji has to take a moment and rewind all the events that had led up to this. On the day that she had held the press conference, she had announced the arrest of 50 very important people in an ongoing large scale investigation that she didn’t have the freedom to comment on for security reasons. That had been a lie, in reality, she had busted over 100 bastards and there was no ongoing large scale investigation just her and her girls trying to take on the entire Mafia on their own. That day was followed by what could only be described as a week curated by Satan himself of non-stop interogations and confessions and plea deals. The people that the Superintendent trusted to aid them were few and far in between, almost all of them young officers unqualified for such high stakes tasks yet the only ones that have yet to be corrupted.

The lower Kim clan was on its knees yet funny enough nobody was willing to give up Namjoon who still remained charged with nothing but arson of his own propriety, which he transferred money to have fixed and any people who might have been affected by it to get paid for the inconvenience. Not even the lowest and the scummiest of those arrested had anything bad to say about Namjoon and firmly denied his involvement with any of the illegal activities. Without their confessions and any solid proof of Namjoon being in cahoots with them, it looked like the head of the former Kim clan was going to escape scot-free. Not even Jackson would crack despite Hyejin having reopened the cold case that was his brother’s disappearance. He gave them all the information needed on the gun trade but nothing about his now former boss. But it was thanks to Jackson’s intel that they managed to get foreign investigators to help them. More specifically Interpol. And that’s who the Superintendent is talking to right now, in English, while Yoonji just nods dumbly every time she catches a word or two she understands.

She leans towards her right where Jessi is seated and taking notes in the classical pen to yellow paper style and whisper asks her to give her a summary of what the fuck is happening.

“Sup is trying to convince them that Kim Namjoon is the leader of the clan and they should focus on proving him guilty rather than extend the investigation towards the dozens and dozens of branches of his crime empire. Interpol’s not having it however, they can’t understand how one man is more of a threat than the hundreds of criminals we have already proven guilty.”

“That’s cause they’ve never met a man like Namjoon. What about our sting on Seokjin? We gotta get things moving fast. The wedding is in 2 days.”

“Same as with Namjoon, we have intel on his men but not on him. It’s far easier to get his underlings arrested and sentenced than drag Seokjin through a long ass trial where we only have circumstantial evidence on him.”

“From what we got from miss Sooyoung, Seokjin blackmails every single one of his employees, nobody is gonna say a word against him out of fear for their families and loved ones. He and Namjoon think alike, we won’t be able to book them without massive help.”

“Help that these fuckers ain’t willing to give us. They came here to bust a huge international crime operation, not two psychos we’ve got jack shit against.”

“Alright, girl, I need you to back me up on this.” Yoonji rises from her seat and walks up front where her boss is still frantically discussing with some middle-aged white dude and inserts herself right between them. Jessi follows her, eyes wide. “Excuse me!” Yoonji says with her thick accent.

“Can we help you miss?” the white man asks her. Yoonji looks towards Jessi.

“He wants to know what’s up.”

“Aight, tell this balding fucker that in two days he’ll have all the criminals he can think of dressed up in fancy suits and unarmed gathered in one place and ready to be arrested like some law enforcement wet dream.”

Jessi takes a moment before addressing the foreign agent that was looking very confused.

“Sir, miss Min is the head of our investigation team and she would like to inform you that she knows from a trustworthy source that many of the criminals on your wanted list will assemble at an event in central Seoul two days from now.”

“Well does miss Min have any proof of this event taking place as she describes or are we to just go by what her source has told her?” the man replies.

“Fuck he sayin?” Yoonji asks Jessi.

“Says what’s your proof that the wedding is even happening.”

“Motherfucker, the head of the clan himself invited me, this is all some double-crossing secret agent bullshit, how am I supposed to prove it? Is my word as an agent not enough?”

“Miss Min says that she has no physical evidence but the intel is solid, the source’s claim is undeniable.”

“Well I can’t invest so many resources in this on such short notice, my men came to this country to make arrests in matters of international importance based on evidence that will hold in the court of law. We cannot go around chasing every single individual especially when we can’t prove their involvement beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

“He ain’t having it, girl.”

“I’m about to throw fists.”

“Miss Min would like you to reconsider, sir.” Jessi tries to smile while subtly grabbing Yoonji by her jeans’ belt loops to prevent her from stepping any closer to the man.

It’s then that the door opens and everybody turns to see Hoseok walking in like he owned the place, all bright smiles and raising his hand in a salute.

“Hey, hey, sorry to interrupt!” he says, bypassing the gaping officers that were seated and heading straight for the standing quartet. “Yoonji, you can punch me in a moment. What’s the skinny?”

“Interpol is here, officer Jung.” the Superintendent says more as a warning for him to behave.

“Ah, perfect.”

“They ain’t helping us bust Seokjin’s wedding.” Jessi informs him, still holding Yoonji tightly, feeling her vibrate with rage. “White fuck here says he needs proof of it happening and all those criminals attending.”

“Wow, my timing is amazing then.” Hoseok laughs and turns towards the confused Interpol representative. “Hello, ‘scuse me, my English not very good but fuck you.” he tells him and hands him a bunch of papers. “Jessi, tell ‘em those are private emails from all the crooks RSVP-ing to the wedding tomorrow.”

“Pardon me, what am I looking at?” the foreign agent asks.

“Proof, bitch, now can we get a move on on this sting or nah?” Jessi snaps and drops all pretenses. “Fuck, I need a drink, let’s get out of here.”

They scaddadle, leaving Superintendent Choi to bow and apologize and try to excuse his officers' behavior while at the same time secretly so immensely relieved that he had them.


“You motherfucker! Where the fuck were you? How the fuck could you leave me here like this?! You son of a bitch ...”

“Hey, leave my mom outta this!”

Yoonji lasted exactly 5 seconds after exiting the police department before she started punching Hoseok. Hoseok just takes it, laughs a little and it’s bitter, half dodges the more dangerous blows and tries, tries to apologize. Unsurprisingly Yoonji tires and her voice dies just like her will to keep hurting her partner, instead beginning to feel a mix of happiness and relief so her last punch turns into a hug and Hoseok welcomes it, wrapping his own arms around her tightly.

“I’m really sorry, I am. I had to. I couldn’t risk anybody’s safety.” he explains and Yoonji just grumbles something.

“Was it worth it?” Jessi asks now that she can see they’ve both calmed down.

“I hope so. It’s not the best trade but it’s better than we had so far.” Yoonji grumbles some more and Hoseok has to squeeze out of her arms to understand what she is saying.

“How did you get hold of those emails?”

“Oh! There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Hoseok beams.


Now it’s not that their team wasn’t an attractive bunch, Yoonji is well aware of how good especially the 3 female agents looked and Hoseok and herself weren’t too shabby either. People would look their way and waiters would treat them nicer whenever they went out. Today is no different, many eyes are on their table in the corner of the secluded European style bistro but something is telling her it’s not because of anyone in their team. But because of Hoseok’s … boyfriend?

“How can he even look like that?” Hyolin comments. “That’s unreal.”

“Right? You don’t see faces like that even on runways.” Hyejin agrees.

“He’s like some fuckin fairy or something.” Jessi adds.

“Could y’all not talk about him as if he’s not right here?” Hoseok interrupts them, annoyed.

“I don’t mind the compliments.” Taehyung tells him and smiles brightly.

“Oh wow, what a voice!” Hyolin starts once more.

They keep going like that for a few more minutes, all three of them just in awe of everything partaining to Taehyung, this tall, skinny, banged up beauty that showed up in stripper heels and tight jeans to meet his boyfriend’s squad like this was just brunch with old friends. Yoonji doesn’t like him. He’s too charming, too chatty, too friendly, too touchy. Hoseok keeps a hand protectively on his skinny thigh and Taehying places his big, delicate hand on top of his, caressing his knuckles. Is this what Hoseok is into? Years of her and Yoongi crushing on him, loving him secretly, desperately, not acting on it for the sake of their friendship and brotherhood and in the end Hoseok falls in love with a stripper. A stripper at Kim Seokjin’s club.

“How’d you get those emails?” Yoonji interrupts the conversation.

Taehyung looks her way and smiles but there’s something in the quirk of his lips that is fox-like and dangerous.

“How’d you get those photos of the party at Monster Plaza?” he asks her.

“We got all our information from my brother who’s been undercover for years. Answer my question.”

“Is that what he told you? You spoke to him?”

“Why are you avoiding an answer?”

“I’m a hacker. I hacked Seokjin’s email address. Did you speak to Min Yoongi yourself?”

“Yes, I have.”

“Bullshit. You talked to Jimin.”

The two are almost out of their seats with anger. Hoseok tells them to calm down.

“Did Jimin tell you all the information came from Yoongi?”

“Yes, of course. Where else could it have come from? They’ve been working together for years. Hobi, that’s why he had to stay, he needed to get Jimin out with him. The failed sting from years ago went wrong because he realized he couldn’t leave his informant behind.”

“That’s what they said? That’s their story?”


Hoseok and Taehyung share a look and the silent conversation that happens within the span of a few seconds is something only they are privy to.

“We’ll get them out.” Hoseok concludes. “Tae is going to help us with the sting. I’ve managed to get a hold of something that will put an end to this madness. But I have to be honest with you guys, you might not like my plan.”

“Any plan that ends with the Kims gone is a good plan if you ask me.” Jessi says and takes a sip of her forgotten coffee. The others nod their agreement.

“I’ve struck a deal with Kwon. He helped me get what I needed. Once the Kim clan collapses he’ll swoop in and take control of Seoul’s underworld once more.”

Silence falls on the table as the girls think over what they’ve just heard. Their heads are bowed, brows furrowed, lips bitten. Eventually, Hyolin sighs.

“I’d rather deal with a low life like Kwon than see either of the Kims again.”

They all nod and sigh in agreement. Hoseok breathes easily again.

“What did he help you get?” Yoonji asks, weary.

“I managed to meet Kim Kangmin.” suddenly everybody at the table becomes tense. “He’s a husk, just like we’ve heard, bound to a wheelchair and on life support. He can hardly speak. He told me he had always expected either Namjoon or his own son to come and end him but he figures a cop is also poetic enough. I have his confession of murdering his wife on camera. He also admitted to shooting Namjoon’s parents. All this because he was enraged by his wife’s affair with his best friend.”

“So … Namjoon had been telling the truth? Seokjin lived with the knowledge that the love of his life killed his mom for years and years?” Hyejin gasps and there’s sadness in the air, a rare moment of compassion for the two mobsters they’ve been hunting down for so long.

“Dr. Kibum was right and it took me a while to realize it too. Everything the Kims have done was because they were separated, because their love was taken from them. Kangmin confessed that he knew his son wouldn’t have taken over the clan had he known the truth. The two were planning on eloping before everything came crashing down.” Hoseok concludes and leans on Taehyung for comfort. “Everything that has happened is that motherfucker’s fault. He raised them to be monsters and robbed them of their humanity. I’m not excusing their actions, y’all, don’t get me wrong, but we wouldn’t be here today if Kim Kangmin hadn’t been the monster that he was.”

“Was?” Yoonji catches the hint.

“I unplugged his life support and watched him suffocate to death.” Hoseok admits and nobody says anything against that.

They spend the next few minutes just processing all this new information and sipping on cold coffees. It was a lot to take in, the immensity of one person’s actions, the ripple effect it caused, all the destruction and suffering as payment for one man’s wounded ego.

“The wedding ...” Taehyung eventually speaks. “It’s going to take place in central downtown, in the interior plaza of a hotel. All guests are required to be unarmed while inside but security will be posted at all entrances and exists plus the larger windows. The venue will accommodate some 200 people and the vows will be displayed on a huge screen above a rose archway. I can hack into it and play the recording of Kim Kangmin’s confession. The chaos it will create will give you guys a chance to storm in. I can also hack into the building’s mainframe and block all elevators, doors and have the blinds come down over the windows. If your team has night vision I can also hit the lights, including the emergency ones and cast the whole place into darkness. Shots will be fired, unavoidably, but we can reduce the number of casualties if we incapacitate them as much as possible.”

“When the fuck did you come up with this plan?” Yoonji scowls.

“Last night instead of fucking.” Hoseok laments making everybody groan and Taehyung smack him playfully.

Hyolin’s phone goes off and she signals them to hush as she answers. After a minute of yes, yes, aha, she hangs up and smiles at them, excitement clear in her eyes.

“Interpol is backing up the sting. Sup wants everybody in tomorrow for a briefing.”

“Fuck yeah!”


200 seats, all covered in champagne colored silk and decorated in the back with small bouquets of wild roses and golden ribbons just like beautiful archway. They had somebody add roses to the chandelier above as well, to match the theme and both himself and Jungkook will be wearing them on their lapels.

Jin can feel his chest constricting with each breath he takes, as if his lungs shrunk as if his heart is sinking. He looks around the venue one more time. This time tomorrow he will be married. The whole clan will witness it. Everybody will know then that he has forfeited everything for a desperate attempt at love. He looks up at the LCD screen and despite it being made to look like a huge framed picture it is still a bit out of place but Jungkook insisted that he wanted everybody to be able to see the vows they have written each other. Their profession of love, their vow of loyalty.

Jin feels nauseous again. He doesn’t even hear Jungkook enter, make his way down the sky blue aisle towards him and flinches when the younger embraces him from behind.

“Hey, relax, it’s just me, hyungie.”

“Sorry, I was lost in thoughts ...”

“Hmm, excited for tomorrow?”

“Yeah… the anticipation is killing me. Couldn't sleep last night either.”

“Yeah, I’ve felt you squirm.”

He spins the older around and kisses him, holds him tightly against him until Seokjin relents and kisses back.

“I still can’t find Tae anywhere ...” Jungkook confesses, eyes downcast, ashamed of his failure.

“Perhaps he ran away.”

“He wouldn’t do that, he loves us.”

“Love shouldn’t hurt though.”

Jungkook gives him a confused look, wants to ask him what he means but figures that this wasn’t a good discussion to have at this moment, after all, Seokjin should only be focusing on him and their big day tomorrow.

“He’ll show up, I’m sure of it. I have people looking.” Jungkook settles the matter and goes for another kiss. “What matters now is that you are happy.”

“What about your happiness, Jungkook?”

The younger laughs. How could he not be happy? All his dreams were coming true. He was rich and powerful and in control and he hasn’t even turned 19 yet. All thanks to the man in his arms now. He was over the moon.

“Of course I’m happy, hyung. I have you!”

“Do I make you happy, Gukkie?”

“You make me stand on mountains!”

Jin smiles at that. Good, he’s doing something good. Jungkook’s nose scrunches cutely and they’re kissing again. Jin feels like he can breathe a bit easier now even though he’s still light headed, still floaty as if in a dream, as if none of this is real. Getting married to someone other than Namjoon …

Suddenly Jin pulls away from the younger and dry heaves for a few moments, worrying his fiance.

“Are you ok, hyungie?”

“Yeah… sorry… just … nerves.”

“C’mon, I’m taking you home. You are not leaving the bed until tomorrow. Can’t have my future husband sick on the most important day of his life.”

And Jin goes willingly, lets himself be guided, maneuvered, told what to do. He doesn’t feel like himself anymore.


Jimin wakes up in some sort of mood. He takes a peek at the wall clock and realizes that it’s late afternoon. Sleeping in has become a habit of his now. He loves it. He stretches, yawns and then immediately calls for Yoongi who shows up moments later, shushing him and closing the door of the bedroom behind him before getting on the bed to cuddle.

“Kiss me! I woke up and you weren’t here!” Jimin whines. Yoongi chuckles and complies, kisses his pouty lips once then twice then three times and Jimin still doesn’t let him go, still arches up for more.

“Don’t be greedy, baby.”

“It’s your fault for leaving me alone.”

“Had to work on some things with Namjoon.”

Jimin huffs. He knows very well that tomorrow’s the big day, that they had a lot of planning to do for everything to go right and work in their favor but he just isn’t feeling like it now. So he demands more kisses, more touches, shoves Yoongi’s hand down his pajama bottoms and agressively licks into his mouth. His lover is exasperared but still complies, bitting back on his lover’s pillowy lips and stroking his wet cock fast and hard like he knows he likes it. Jimin moans loudly, spreads his legs and tosses his head back against the pillows.

“Mmm… fuck me, Yoonie, please! Wanna cum on your cock, not hand!”

“Shhh! Namjoon’s right outside this door.”

“So? Want him to hear!”

“Baby...” Yoongi warns but Jimin still continues to moan even louder as if he is being fucked hard and isn’t just getting a quick handjob.

“Fuck, Yoonie, you make me feel so good! Gonna cum, fuck! Nobody makes me feel like you do! Ah!” the blond shouts and Yoongi can’t help his giggles. He speeds up, stroking Jimin’s short length like he’s milking him and soon enough he can feel him shudder, feel his hot release on his hand.

“You are such a brat.” Yoongi tells him, kissing his sweaty forehead.

“You loved it.” Jimin retorts. “You love knowing Namjoon heard that.”

Yoongi says nothing, just pulls out his cum covered hand from his lover’s shorts and licks it clean. Jimin can feel his dick twitch at the sight.

“I love you.” the older says.

“And I love you, Min Yoongi, so much!!” Jimin shouts.

“Shut up, already, I get it!” they both hear from the other room and can’t control their laughter.


The day before the now already infamous wedding is spent in a blur of meetings and briefings. Jessi does her best to translate the ever more aggravated messages from Yoonji and Hoseok to their Interpol allies and Superintendent Choi feels like he is aging five years every couple of hours. Hyejin and Hyolin take it upon themselves to write all the paperwork in time for their operation that is less than 24 hours away. It takes so much to make things sound legal, to convince people that the recording is just a fake meant to distract and throw off the assembly of gangster and not the actual Kim Kangmin who Hoseok murdered in cold blood. They need to reason Taehyung’s presence, write him up as a collaborator and get him immunity for his time spent in service of the upper Kim clan. Then there’s Yoongi to take into consideration, who has let Yoonji know that he will take advantage of the chaos and return to them while the operation will be underway. Jimin in toe. So that’s more people coming from the Mob into their ranks that need justification.

Hoseok is not allowed to lead the SWAT teams inside the building due to his injury but he will be overseeing everything from the HQ they set up in the building right next to the wedding venue. People will be following his orders. Yoonji, however, will be inside, posing as a guest and reporting to them live through a hidden mic. Should anything go wrong she will give them a signal. Taehyung will be in charge of all technical problems, especially making sure that the people inside stay inside until arrested.

It’s all very overwhelming and they are all more than grateful when they finally get dismissed and told to go home and rest for tomorrow.

Yoonji literally drags herself home. Her body feels heavy, feels like lead, like her bones had fused together at some point during the long day. How is she supposed to sleep? Tomorrow is going to change everything, tomorrow she’s going to have her brother back, everything is finally ending. At the same time, how can she not sleep? She’ll be right there, on the inside, in a pretty dress with a gun strapped to her thigh under the fabric, she’s gonna see Seokjin’s reaction to his dad’s confession. She’ll need her energy.

These are the thoughts going through her tired mind as she reaches her door and it takes her a second to realize she can’t go inside because there’s a man standing in her way.


She startles, keys jingling in her grip.

“What are you doing here, bunny?”

“You didn’t answer my calls...” He’s hurt, there’s so much sadness in his big pretty eyes. Yoonji realizes that she’s missed him, her sweet boy that loved her so tenderly.

“Yeah, work’s been crazy ...”

Yoonji unlocks the door and gestures for him to follow her, turns on the lights one by one with the boy shadowing her staps, asks him if he’s hungry, pulls out leftover takeout from the fridge despite his refusal.

“What do you even work?” he speaks, leaning against the counter while Yoonji gulps down a glass of water.

“I’m a cop, baby.” she tells him, breathless from drinking so fast. She misses the way the boy flinches, body suddenly tense.

“Wha… What kind of cop?” his voice was so small now. Yoonji raises a brow at him, crowds him against the counter, getting on her tip toes to reach his lips and kiss him until he whimpers.

“The overworking kind.” she eventually answers, bopping his nose and turning to slam the leftovers in the microwave.

“Noona … I ...”

“Listen, baby boy, noona’s really exhausted, I don’t think I’m up to anything tonight, I’ve got some important stuff to do tomorrow...”

“No, it’s ok, don’t worry about that!”

“Sweet boy.” she kisses him again, loves the way he blushes, deep red, the way he grips the edge of the counter, knuckles white. “You can stay the night, tho. I’ve missed you. Missed having someone big and warm cuddle me.”

“I … can’t stay tonight, noona. I just came to tell you something ...”


The microwave dings and she moves to pull the steaming plate out.

“I … I love you.” he stammers. Yoonji burns her fingers on the plate and drops it noisily on the floor where it shatters. She doesn’t move to clean it up and neither does Jungkook. They just look into each other’s eyes, both unsure of what to do. Yoonji rubs at her painful fingertips and he takes her wounded hand and kisses them, eyes swimming with unshed tears.

“Why would you say that?” she asks not pulling her hand back from his grip.

“Because it’s true and because … I needed you to know. You don’t… feel the same?”

“I hardly know you, baby. I do care about you, of course, I do.”

The tears fall. Yoonji can’t handle that, she’s quick to hug the boy, shush him, kiss him, anything to make him stop feeling this way.

“No, baby, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that… we hardly had any time together. I wanna know you, I do. You’re always so sweet to me, bunny, the sweetest darling boy, there’s nothing I can fault you, it’s just that I don’t wanna use big words now and then hurt you. You don’t know me that well either, bun. Noona’s not that good a person ...”

“You’re the best person ...” Jungkook protests. “Always so kind and patient with me...” he wipes his tears, angry at himself for crying, for being such a mess. “Noona… I gotta go.”

“So soon, baby?”

“Yeah… Tomorrow’s… Noona, you might hear things about me but I need you to promise me something.” he’s serious, clutching her hands, shivering. She nods.

“What is it, bun?”

“Whatever you hear about me, whatever happens, please don’t think differently of me. I love you, no matter what I say or do, I love you. Noone else.”


It had been a restless night for Yoonji and when she wakes up at the crack of dawn she has a bitter taste in her mouth. The second she gets up and heads towards the bathroom she can feel the nausea coiling in her gut and it only takes a few more seconds before she is throwing up bile. Great. The nerves have gotten to her. Nonetheless, she takes a pill, brushes her teeth and forces breakfast down her throat, chasing it with hot black coffee. Before leaving she takes a good look at her empty apartment, all messy and lonely just like herself. There is a chance she won’t return here tonight. Yoonji has no regrets.

The building they are using as HQ rents office spaces for startups so there’s plenty of room for all the agents to set up their equipment, computers and monitors and crates full of military grade weapons. there’s bustling in the entire building, agents putting on vests, loading guns, testing communication gear.

Nobody even notices Yoonji arriving so she goes looking for anybody familiar. Soon enough she spots Hoseok and Taehyung, the younger sitting on a chair in front of three large computer screens while the older is leaning over his shoulder, whispering something to him, both of then very concentrated. She clears her throat and they seem surprised to see her.

“You’re early.”

“Yeah, figured I should get in the mood before jumping in. Wassup?”

“Tae was just showing me how he’ll shut down the building.”

Yoonji takes a look at the screen but only understands the ones displaying the live feed from the security cameras inside, the rest is just a flurry of code that keeps rapidly changing.

“Cool.” she says for lack of words.

“Yo, Min, time to get pretty!” Jessi shows up with the rest of the girls and Yoonji is relieved. there’s something off about Hoseok ever since Taehyung showed up in the picture. Or perhaps is just the weight of what they are about to do.

Yoonji lets the girls help her get dressed. She’s wearing a pretty knee-length black dress but the bust is reinforced with kevlar for a bit of protection. She puts on flats so that she can run if needed and under her dress they strap her down with a Glock on one thigh and two extra clips on the other. They warn her about her posture, she’s to be careful least somebody spots the outline of the weapon through the fabric. Next, they wire her up, hide the mic in a flower in her statement necklace and the in-ear in an intricate earring then covered with her hair.

“Testing testing, Min Yoonji, can you copy?” she hears loud and clear in her right ear.

“Yeah, are you my connection?” she asks after recognizing Taehyung’s voice.

“Would you rather have Hobi screaming in your ear?”

“I’m used to him and his screaming.”

“You’ll get used to me as well.”

The hours fly by. Soon enough Superintendant Choi asks everybody to get into position and be on stand by. He announces Hoseok as the leader of today’s operation and Jessi as his translator for the Interpol team. Everybody salutes him and Hoseok replies with a curt nod.

“Alright, everybody, we have eyes on the outside and inside.” Hoseok speaks loudly and he’s cold and professional and focused. Yoonji shivers. “ Just a couple of minutes ago the first guests have begun arriving. Security is pretty tight but nothing we can’t handle, it appears that we outnumber them from my initial count. The guards are armed with semi-automatics and they are posted in teams of two at all entrances and exits plus the windows looking directly into the venue. They are all equipped with in-ears so as soon as any of them notice us they will inform the others. We will not go in until the ceremony starts. Taehyung here will play the distraction video and then immediately close off the building with one exception, the front entrance through which we will storm in. we will use tear gas to disable them and will not use deadly force unless strictly necessary. Remember, we want most of these men alive so that we can extract vital intel from them. Agent Min will be our man on the inside, should anything not go according to plan, she will signal us and we will proceed with the backup plan as instructed. For now, we remain in standby. Understood? Any questions? Good. At ease for now. Thank you.”

They keep watching, minutes ticking by slowly, painfully so. Taehyung and Hoseok keep their eyes glued to the screens and Yoonji just focuses on her breathing. In and out, everything is going to be fine, in and out.

It’s afternoon when a white convertible caddy pulls in front of the venue, a cheesy “Just married” hung on the back, surrounded by balloons and flowers. The husbands to be had arrived. This was Yoonji cue.

“Wait, Yoonji!” Hoseok runs after her. She turns, unsure of why he’s delaying her. “Just … come back to me, alright?”

She smiles, gives him a playful punch in the guts.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? Of course, I’ll be back.”


The venue is much bigger on the inside than what she’s seen on the security footage. it’s bright and beautifully decorated, wild roses everywhere, even the chandelier. there are so many people, mostly men in suits but a few women are around as well. Yoonji sees Seokjin briefly but she’s quickly distracted by a valet asking to see her invitation. She hands it to him, the man measuring her from head to toe. Does she seem nervous? Can he tell she doesn’t belong with this crowd? After a few tense moments, he stamps her invitation card and hands it back to her, wishing her a pleasant day and enjoy the ceremony. Yoonji is quick to grab a flute of champagne and retreat to a more secluded spot.

“Don’t drink.” comes Taehyung’s voice in her ear. She turns so as to not seem like a crazy person talking to herself.

“Why the fuck not?”

“We need you with your head on your shoulders.”

“Kid, I can handle my liquor, fuck off.” She downs the whole flute in one big gulp just to spite the younger.



“How many guards at the windows? Can you confirm 20?”

Yoonji is quick to turn around, looking like she’s admiring the chandelier again.

“Yeah, 20.”

“Good. Avoid the crowd, stick to the side. When the ceremony starts, hide. We don’t want you in the team’s line of fire.”

“Got it.”

She picks up another champagne flute and just as she was about to turn and look for a good hiding spot she bumps into Seokjin himself.

“Yoonji-yah! You made it!” the man beams.

“Yeah… hi, it’s good to see you, Seokjin-ssi.” she says, letting herself be embraced by the huge man.

“Yah, what happened to oppa? I’m so glad you made it. You’re like the only friendly face around here.”

“What about your fiance?”

“Oh, Jungkookie is a bit nervous himself, he’s chatting everyone up to try and hide it.”

“Jungkook? That’s his name?”

“Yeah, I’ve never told you? My bad. You’ll see him soon unless he gets cold feet.” Seokjin laughs but there’s a shakiness to it that Yoonji can’t quite read. “Anyways, I should go, we’re starting in 5. I’ll see you at the party after, alright?”

“Yeah … Um. Congratulations.” Seokjin just smiles a small thing and then leaves to find his future husband.

The guards closest to the windows pull the curtains, making the light inside softer. A master of ceremonies asks all guests to be seated and soon soft music starts playing as excited whispers fill the room. Yoonji scaddadles to the right side, close to the candy bar and she’s tense, body ready to snap, hand itching for her gun just to feel safer. She downs the second flute and watches the ceremony begin.

Seokjin walks down the aisle and everybody can see that he’s nervous, steps small and unsure, grip tight on the small bouquet he’s holding. He’s as white as his suit and his eyes are glassy, scared, like a cornered rabbit. He reaches the end of the aisle eventually and that’s where his fiance is waiting for him. Yoonji can’t see his face, from where she’s standing, but she remarks how tall the man is and how he chose to wear a dark suit, contrasting with Seokjin’s. His figure and small waist reminds her of someone but she has to focus now. The master of ceremonies begins speaking as soon as Seokjin joins hands with his fiancee.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have gathered today to witness the symbolic union of Seokjin and Jungkook. These two men before us have proved themselves time and time again as courageous, upstanding, loyal and fair. They have looked after the Kim clan with both an iron grip and a gentle caress. They have taken care of our wellbeing and prosperity and have upheld the Kim clan values that have been established decades ago and no hardship has made them falter in their loyalty towards the clan. Because of how much they have given us we are in debt to them endlessly and so today we come together to gift them once more our trust and loyalty by celebrating their union and marking a new beginning for the Kim clan under not one master but two.”

Applause resound loudly in the spacious venue and Yoonji notices Seokjin smiling and quickly wiping a solitary tear.

“Stand by.” she heard in her ear just then and she quickly dodges behind the candy bar.

The applause dies down and gasps and confused voices are heard from all over. On the large screen Kim Kangmin withered face shows up and everybody freezes.

“Say it again while I record you.” Hoseok is heard off camera.

“Will youhhhh… show thhhis to… to Seokjinhh?” the old man’s voice comes through raggedly, the wheezing loud as he struggles to breathe properly through the tube in his nose.

“I will. Now confess again. Who killed the Bangs?”

“I did… Namjoonhh’s fahhther and my wifehhh… werehh in lovehhh and I … couldn’t standhh it … I forced the boyhhh to chhhoose between his pahhrents … and Seokjinhh… I knewhh.. hhow much he lovedh him ...”

“You shot Namjoon’s parents in front of him?”

“Yehhhhhss… to makehhh it easierhh on hhim...”

“Who killed your wife?”

“Namjoonhh did …. I madehh him doh it… I couldhn’t doh it myselfhhhh so I forcedhh the boyhh to ...”

“Why did you lie to your son about what happened?”

“I knewhhh theyhh were gonnahh run ahhway… So I hadhh tohh… breakh themh aparthh… for the clahhnn’s sake ...”

“Are you sorry for what you’ve done? “

“ It’shh whhath happens… whhenh you’re dihhloyal … to thhhe Kim chhlan...”

You could hear a needle if it were to drop now in the deathly silence that fell over the room. The recording ended, stuck on Kim Kangmin’s ugly face as everyone is frozen in place. Even Yoonji is shocked by the cold, remorseless confession but she still knows that it’s time to reach under her dress and grab hold of her gun.

“Hold position. Something’s wrong.” she heard Taehyung and she doesn’t even get the chance to reply.

Seokjin’s scream fills the room and it’s chilling, gut-wrenching, something that wounded, dying animal wails in the wild.

“You bastard!!!” Seokjin continues, face red and shiny with tears, he hunches over as if he’d been gutted. “How could you… how could you ...”

And then time stops. From the entrance, there’s a loud bang and Yoonji notices too late that that is an explosion. The wave of heat and dust hits her hard and she chokes for a few moments. Screams follow people shouting orders. She rubs the dirt out of her eyes and manages to see who threw the mini grenade.

Kim Namjoon storms the venue, shooting down guard after guard after guard, like a killing machine with a single purpose, he marches down the aisle, eyes ablaze set on a single target. Jungkook just then seems to snap out of his shock and confusion and moves to shield Seokjin.

“Get the fuck away from my man!” Namjoon thunders and points the gun at the younger forcing him to back away quickly. He seems to weigh whether or not he should shoot him but decides he’s got no time for a lowlife like him. Namjoon grabs Seokjin and marches him away from the whole circus, nobody daring to lift a finger to try and help their boss.


Across the street Hoseok had watched with his mouth agape as Kim Namjoon himself pulled up in front of the building, tossed a hand grenade at the entrance, rapidly disabling the first guards posted there then storming through the debris, shooting anybody in his way with deadly precision just to get to Seokjin and drag him out of the building. By the time he snaps out of his shock, the Kims are already in the convertible.

“Fuck. Everybody go now! Go! Go! Go!” he screams the order and the special ops teams are running out of the HQ.

“Yoonji! Get Jungkook! You have eyes on him!” Taehyung practically shouts through the mic at her.

“Babe, I’m going too!” Hoseok tells him, grabbing two guns and his motorcycle keys. “I’m not letting the Kims fucking get away.” Taehyung jumps from his chair in front of the computers to kiss him as he’s rushing through the door.

“Go get ‘em, tiger!”

Hoseok jumps on his motorcycle and revs up the engine. He can still see the car speeding away, obnoxious “just married” sign sparkling in the growing distance. He zooms after them, determined.


It’s not that Yoonji doesn’t have eyes on Jungkook, the problem is exactly that. She can finally see him and her hands are shaking as she points the gun. Whose bad joke is this anyway?

She hears the teams coming in, they’re throwing smoke grenades and shooting to disable. it’s chaos. But it’s chaos around her and she can only focus on the chaos within. On having her gun aimed at Jungkook, her Jungkook, her sweet boy.

“Noona...” he mutters, hands raised defensively, almost innocently. he’s scared, she can tell, perhaps he doesn’t know what’s happening either. Perhaps there’s an explanation for him being here.

“Young Master!” a man shouts at Jungkook before getting tackled by an agent.

No, there is no denying this.

She has to make a decision, now, before anyone notices, before it’s too late. Yoonji needs to know why, why is he here, what is he doing …

“Noona, please ...” he calls out for her again, eyes big and shiny.

“Fuck!” she screams and lowers her gun. “Go, just fucking go!”

Jungkook hesitates, can’t believe his ears. But time is precious, he mutters a thank you and runs, the last of the Kim guards covering him.

A moment passes, then a few seconds. She feels hands on her, someone calling her miss Min, instructing her to exit, take cover, return to HQ. Then someone else is on her, pulling her, dragging her out of the pandemonium. it’s only when she’s outside when she can breathe air that doesn’t smell like explosives and her ears stop ringing that she realizes it was Jessi that pulled her out and was trying to tell her something.

“Wha ...”

“I said Yoongi’s here. Your brother’s here.”

Oh, this was too much for her heart. She hangs on to Jessi, tries to breathe normally, in and out, in one two, out three four. She has to get her shit together. They are in the middle of an operation that is close to failing, she needs to focus, needs to gather her thoughts, ignore the gaping fresh hole in her heart.

Inside the HQ there’s just as much madness as in the building across the street but through it all Yoonji can see, right there, a few steps in front of her …


he turns, it’s really him. Same stature, same pale skin, cat eyes, pouty lips, her brother, her mirror, her blood.


They hug so tightly it hurts but it doesn’t matter, this is good pain, this is the pain of having his arms around her again, if she could fuse them together, Yoonji would. Oh how she’s missed him, how incomplete and lost she had been for so long …

“You fucking midget ...” she cries in his shoulder.

“You damned devil spawn ...” he retorts and kisses her cheeks, her hair, her nose.

“Tae Tae!!”


They hear from a few steps away from where a similar scene is unfolding but with far more tears and far louder.

“Who’s that?”Yoonji asks her brother.

“That’s Jimin.”



“Jimin’s a boy?!”

“What? Of course he’s a boy! Who’s that?”

“Taehyung. He’s Hoseok’s boyfriend.”

“His boyfriend?!”


Hoseok was catching up to the speeding car but Namjoon was too smart not to notice him tailing them and too cunning not to try all sorts of risky maneuvers to make Hoseok crash against other cars or into buildings as he takes tight, last second turns. Still, Hoseok’s been riding for years and this was far too an important chase to relent.

Namjoon is focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel tightly but he still can’t help a quick glance to his right where Seokjin was still paralyzed from shock on the passenger seat. He tries to think of something to say but words fail him. Until he remembers Jimin’s advice.

“I love you!”

Seokjin blinks as if he was just waking up from a long sleep. He turns to Namjoon and suddenly he can breathe again, as if he had been released from a tight corset.

“Well, you didn’t have to crash my wedding to remind me of that!”

“You didn’t have to try and get married to make me remind you of that!”

“I didn’t need a reminder!”

“Then what the fuck were you doing with that scrawny teenager?!”

“Whatever you were doing with that blond midget!”

“I was never in love with Jimin!”

“Well, I was never in love with Jungkook!”

“Could have fooled me!”

“You let someone else call you daddy! don’t think I don’t know! That was our thing, Joonie!”

“Yeah, ok, but you ...”

They get interrupted when a couple of bullets barely miss the wheels of the cars but hit its rear end with a loud, metallic bang.

“He’s still after us?” Jin looks back to see that indeed, Hoseok was still hot on their tails and getting closer, close enough to attempt shooting at them. Seokjin reaches for Namjoon’s waist and pulls out the man’s gun. “Keep the car steady, you’re a lousy driver.”

“I’ve improved !” Namjoon protests, speeding up as he turns on emptier roads.

Seokjin tries to aim to kill but Hoseok ducks low on his motorcycle and starts riding in z formations to make himself a more difficult target. Seokjin shoots a few times, almost gets his front wheel, almost gets his leg. Hoseok decides to be more than just a target and fires back, not at the car this time but straight at Seokjin. The man dodges two of the shots but a third one hits him in the chest, sending him crashing back in the passenger seat.

“Jinnie!!” Namjoon panics, almost loses control of the car but then hears the other’s loud laughter. Seokjin coughs a bit too then shows Namjoon his locket, their matching locket, bent out of shape from where the bullet ricocheted.

“You … you wore that to your wedding?!”

“Yeah … guess I should’ve known since I put it on this morning that there can only be one man for me.”

Namjoon laughs, all dimples and moon crescent eyes and reaches into his own shirt to pull out his locket to show Jin.

“I love you, Joonie. Now make a right turn here and let’s get this lunatic off of our backs.”


At the HQ Yoonji fidgets and paces and bites her nails until they bleed. Taehyung, helped by Jimin managed to get eyes on Hoseok and the Kims from above, using the traffic surveillance cameras.

“They’re gonna get away.” Taehyung says and frowns, nails clicking restlessly next to his keyboard.

“We gotta cut them off.” Yoongi suggests. “This building has a heliport on top, doesn’t it?”

“What are you saying?” Yoonji realizes. “You haven’t flown a helicopter since the Academy.”

“But I was damn good at it.”

“We don’t have a helicopter anyway.”

“There’s a traffic helicopter flying not too far away from here.” Jimin says pointing at his screen. “I can connect you to the pilot.”

“Yeah, do that, baby.”

Jimin immediately starts typing at an impressive speed, making Yoonji confused as to how they ended up with two hackers in the span of one day, both of them incredibly beautiful and both of them in love with the two most important people in her life. Taehyung leans over to Jimin’s side of the desk, advises him to do something differently and soon enough they let Yoongi know that they have made contact with the pilot. Yoongi grabs the small mic and makes his voice come out loud and clearly.

“This is special agent Min Yoongi, on behalf of the Seoul Metropolitan Police. You are ordered to land your aircraft on the nearest heliport to your left within the next 10 minutes.”

Jimin smiles up at him and gets a kiss for being cute. Taehyung pretends to gag and gets slapped by his best friend. Yoonji is still very much confused by everything.

“I’m heading to the roof. Let Hoseok know I’m backing him up and trying to cut off the Kims as soon as possible.”

“Please be careful, Yoongi.”

The two siblings hug it out one last time before he heads up, determined but not before sending Jimin a cheesy wink.


Yoonji is left with the two hackers in the control room. The Superintendent comes and asks for an update at one point and she tells him they’re still in pursuit. Siwon tells her that half of the criminals managed to escape amidst the disaster created at the wedding venue but they are still trying to locate some of the fugitives. Yoonji salutes him and wishes him good luck. She doesn’t catch the way that Taehyung stares at her as if she were made of glass and he can clearly see through her.

“Yoonie’s in the air.” Jimin announces them, hopping from camera to camera to keep track of both the helicopter and the runaway car.

“I knew you were gonna fall for him.” Taehyung teases him.

“Please, you were the one warning me to be careful and reasonable.”

“Given the circumstances.”

“Given the circumstances, you started dating a cop while still working for Seokjin!”

“You guys’ve known each other for long?” Yoonji interjects.

“Since we were little.”

“Like super little.” Jimin emphasizes.

“Shit!” Taehyung suddenly jumps from his seat.

“What?!” Yoonji panics as well, looking at the screens, trying to understand.

“They’re heading towards Jamsu bridge.”


“After they cross it they’ll be only 10 minutes away from Gimpo airport.” Taehyung explains. “They’re gonna make a run for it and try to leave the country.”

Jimin is quick to grab one of the mics.

“Yoonie, they’re heading towards the airport! You gotta cut them off before they reach it.”

“Gotcha, baby, I’m heading there now.” Yoongi’s voice comes crackling through the speakers.

“I’ll call the airport, have them lock down the place, ground all flights ...” Yoonji announces, phone already in hand.

“Do that but it’s still going to take a while to close down the whole damn airport, if Yoongi doesn’t cut them off they might just make it.”

“I’ll have the security there on high alert and dispatch the Interpol agents there as backup.” she thinks as she is speaking, phone already glued to her ear. “Hello? This is special agent Min Yoonji, on behalf of the Metropolitan ...” she steps away from the computers to signal the Superintendent to come to her.

As she does this Jimin is still looking at the screens as if trying to crack a complicated problem. Then he brightens up, jumps from his seat.

“TaeTae, they’re going to have to cross Jamsu bridge but Jamsu bridge is submersible!”

“So what are you … Oh! Minnie, you’re a genius! You hack the security and disable the firewalls and I’ll get to decoding so that we can take control of the damn bridge!”


They both sit down, fingers flying over the keyboard, eyes not even looking where they are clicking, in stead, focused on watching the numbers and letters glide across the screens.

“Hey, Tae Tae… “


“Who am I hacking exactly?”

“Oh my god, you absolute noob, the Hangang Project Headquarters !”

“Well excuse me, mister professional hackerman!”


By the time they can see Jamsu bridge both the Kims and Hoseok have run out of ammunition. Hoseok was happy to hear Yoongi’s voice after so long, happy to hear that the man was indeed on their side, that there was still hope for them. His arms and legs were burning from his tense posture and the amount of force necessary to maneuver the bike so aggressively, leaning on either side so close to the road his shoulder almost touched the ground, turning so violently his wheels left skid marks all over the city, the smell of burnt tires still fresh in his nose. He isn’t wearing a helmet and his eyes are watering, not to mention how close he had been to getting a bullet in his skull this time. This time … his wound is still healing and the pain is atrocious in his shoulder but he ignores it. This is not the time nor the place to pussy out.

As Namjoon is speeding towards the bridge he can see the impressive, world record-breaking structure beginning to slowly descend. Seokjin sees this too and he grabs the console, worried.

“Joonie, what’s happening?”

“Do you trust me, princess?”

“With my life.”


Namjoon floors it and the car zooms across the bridge, leaving Hoseok behind, eating their dust. They are almost across but the bridge is still submerging in the Han river. They have a few more hundreds of meters, they are going 200 km/h.

“Joonie!” Jin shouts as water covers the bridge, the speed of their wheels making it splash all around them.

And then suddenly there is no more splashing, there is no more water. They’ve made it across just barely. Seokjin turns around to look and indeed Jamsu bridge is gone, completely submerged.

Hoseok watches them vanish into the distance from the other side of the river, panting on his heated bike, cursing the Kims to Hell and back.


It takes hours to fully shut down an airport as flights still in the air need to be redirected or be landed immediately. People need to be evacuated safely, luggage must be seen to and organized, it’s a very complicated affair that only happens in case of a major crisis. Two criminals on the run are not a big enough crisis to warrant such treatment so Yoonji is left pleading on the phone with the airport’s board of directors to at least check all gates and terminals for their suspects and circulate their photos.

At this rate, all hope is with Yoongi.

The last thing he says to Jimin and hence to the entire HQ is that he has landed on the terminal for private jets and first-class business flights as he knows that Namjoon has a plane in one of the hangers here. He will try to apprehend them when they’ll attempt to board the plane.

That’s the last anybody hears from him for a short while.

During this small interval, Yoongi lights up a cig and promises himself that this is the last one, that he’ll never smoke again even if seriously stressed. Jimin wouldn’t like him smoking and he doesn’t want to upset his feisty boyfriend.

He manages to smoke about half of the cig when he sees Namjoon and Seokjin walking towards him, hand in hand and in a hurry.

“What took you so long?”

“Sorry, Yoons, had to crash the car and run here.”

“Wait, he’s helping us?” Jin can’t help his surprise.

“Mine and Jimin’s freedom for yours and his. Fair trade. We claim to have been undercover and working against you all along, get a pardon for years worth of crime, you make it look like you’ve taken a private jet towards China where even Interpol can’t chase you down and in reality you’ll be flying economical on a commercial airline, 12 fucking hours towards sunny Europe. Perfect.” Yoongi explains to an amazed Seokjin as he puts out his smoke and pulls out two plane tickets and hands them to Namjoon.

“Wait … so you’re not the rat and neither is Jimin?” Seokjin asks, unsure still.


“Then who the fuck caused all this madness?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. You have 15 minutes to board your flight before they start looking for the most obnoxious couple in history. “

Namjoon hugs him, tightly, pats his back and Yoongi mirrors his gesture.

“Thank you, Yoons, for everything, for staying my friend.”

“Yeah, don’t mention it. Ever. Now try to punch me like you mean it.”


They find Yoongi knocked out on the terminal and Yoonji and Hoseok beat Jimin and Taehyung and get to be the firsts to hug him and help him get back on his feet. There are agents everywhere and they’re checking all gates, all hangars. Namjoon’s private jet is nowhere to be found.

“Agent Min.” Superintendent Choi runs towards the group and both Yoongi and Yoonji turn their heads. “I meant, Min Yoongi, welcome back.”

“It’s good to be back, Sir.”

“That’s quite a shinner ….”

“They got away, Sir. I’m sorry ...”

“It’s alright. Honestly, I’m sick of hearing about the Kims anyway.”

Chapter Text

Kim Kangmin’s funeral had been a quiet, almost secret event. A lot of money had been spent, mostly on convincing people to handle the body and do the appropriate rituals. The best of efforts were made to keep it as traditional as possible.

He would have been happy, perhaps, to see men from both the upper and lower clan come together once again. They were discrete of course, their attendance was a matter of curiosity and superstition. Nobody wanted to be haunted or cursed by the former mobster, a man that surely turned demon the second his heart stopped beating.

The week following the sting and the death of the former head, the Kim clan had been a panicked mess of people whose hierarchy had been upturned and lived with the everpresent fear of being caught. Nobody knew if either Seokjin or Namjoon would return, nobody had any clue of what to do in the meantime.

Until Jungkook stepped up. His initial order was to arrange for Kim Kangmin’s funeral, they owed it to him, he had said, out of respect. And while he was overseeing the burial and such, he also managed to let people know that just because their old master was gone it didn’t mean that their newer one wasn’t still around.

By the time the dead’s body was in the ground, not too far from the old Kim mansion where it had all begun, the remaining mobsters had already set aside their differences and agreed that the distinction between the lower and upper side of the clan had vanished with its leaders.

Within days it became obvious who their new head was, a surprising yet obvious choice. Everybody turned to Jungkook and the boy was more than happy to take on his new role.


Two weeks flew by easily yet they felt heavy and tiring as a years-long journey. Jungkook’s shoulders are used to the weight of it all now, it makes him stand up that much taller, set his jaw that much tighter, carry himself that much surer. Much like the dessert changes overnight with the rain, Jungkook changed once he had found fertile ground.


He is looking with something aching to pity at the cold, grey stone at his feet. Kim Kangmin, father, leader, founder. Sixty-something years worth of life and work buried under his feet. Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk.

“You blew it, you old fuck.” Jungkook addresses the grave. “You were never up for it anyway, and neither was your son.”

He laughs a little, self-satisfied and unzips his fly to start pissing straight on the gravestone, right over the engraved letters of the Kim clan founder’s name.

“That is a weird way to pay your respect to the dead.” a voice comes from a few feet away. Jungkook looks over his shoulder at the thin man bracketed by two burly guards but it doesn’t bother him nor his flow.

“It’s the respect he’s earned. Kwon Jiyong, right? Whadda ya want?”

“Just curious about your intentions with the Kim clan.”

“There is no Kim clan left.” Jungkook finishes pissing and makes sure to shake the last droplets off well, before making a show out of zipping his pants.

“Then what are you still doing around here, kid?”

Jungkook chuckles and it’s mean. He brushes past the Dragon, sparing him only one sharp, pointed look before spitting at his feet.

“Whatever the fuck I want. And it’s Master Jeon to you.”