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(It's a) Different Game

Chapter Text

At first glance things seemed normal. Just a small group of friends getting together for some fun.

You might expect alcohol, perhaps the odd bag of weed to help loosen things up a little... And of course, you can't forget the games.

Normally there would be the sound of laughter and the occasional remark about so-and-so's stupid
haircut, the clinking of ice in a glass as it was downed without hesitation, who was sleeping with whom, and who had broken up. All the discussions that would take place at a normal get together.

Unfortunately, this was not a normal get together, and the 'game' being played was in the form of a bloody figure tied to a chair in the center of the room.

The room was deadly silent, save for the ragged breathing of their victim, occasionally interrupted by a pained whimper as they struggled to stay awake, their face a mess of bruises, blood, and lost teeth.

One of his legs was obviously broken, bending in away that wasn't normal, the handy work of an overly aggressive guard.

A man with bleach blonde hair sat in front of them in another chair, casually tossing a knife back and forth with the occasional jab at the victim's flesh, causing him to cry put in pain.

He was wearing a black suit, a very expensive suit at that, with the jacket and tie carelessly thrown to a side chair and his sleeves rolled up. The formerly white undershirt was splattered with red as was the man's face and the edges of the sleeves were no longer white at all.

Across the room sitting on an expensive leather couch were two men in expensive suits, casually sipping from glasses containing an amber liquid. One held a cigarette between his fingers, taking a drag every now and then before tilting his head to release the foul smelling smoke.

The silence stretched for a while before the man on the left spoke.

"I'm only going to ask this once... how did Bang and his cronies get a hold of the Intel on the weapons shipment?" The man in the pinstriped suit asked.

"I- I swear, Mister Wang, Sir, I d-don't k-know anything ab-bout it! You h-have to believe me-"he was cut off by a scream as the blonde man tool his blade and sank it deep into his victim's thigh, unfortunately for him, it was also on his broken leg.

"Suga," the man on the right said.

The blonde, also known as Suga, stood and stepped away from the bloodied man, leaving his knife where it was. The victim whined painfully as blood poured sluggishly from the new wound, held back only by the gleaming silver knife.

Mr Wang, also known as Jackson Wang, was the head of the Triad in Seoul. For a twenty-five year old to have taken over the most powerful Chinese organization in Korea was no small accomplishment. Jackson stood and walked over.

He circled the man in the chair, the gleam in his eye reminding Junho of a tiger stalking it's prey. Eventually he stopped behind him. Junho didn't dare turn around, fearing that the action would only bring more pain.

Jackson leaned forward so that his lips just brushed the man's ear, causing him to flinch and whimper in fear.

"It's not that I don't believe you Junho-ssi, but I is a little suspicious how you're name has always turned up when we start digging," Jackson said.

"I know it would, S-Sir, but p-please, I have a wife and daughter-," Jackson His lips quivering in an attempt to remain composed.

Jackson suddenly moved around to sit in the chair Suga had vacated. Crossing his legs, he sat and stared at Junho for several long minutes until the other man looked away in fear.

"What do you think, Namjoon?" He asked, pulling out his favorite switchblade and fiddling with it.

"I think he's trying to cover for his own ass," Namjoon said with finality, taking another drag from the cigarette.

Kim Namjoon was one of Jackson's closest friends, they had first met as teenagers when Jackson ran away from his abusive step-father. He had walked the streets for several weeks when Namjoon saved him from a mugging turned attempted murder.

The two of them had found out their situations were similar, so they decided to stick together, safety in numbers and all that jazz.

Eventually Jackson decided to head to his home city of Hong Kong. Namjoon opting to stay behind, having found several other young men who shared his views of making Seoul theirs one day. He became the head of a small gang they called Bangtan.

Jackson wished Namjoon the best and left, promising to try to keep in contact.

The goal was to make enough money to live comfortably and eventually open a recording studio, but those plans soon were brushed aside in favor of a bigger prize.

When they reconnected Jackson has head of the Triad that branched out into Seoul and Namjoon, now known as RM to everyone, had turned his small group of miscreants into the most powerful branch of the Jopok.

"Junho, I do you know what I detest the most about people?" Jackson began, leaning in until their noses were nearly touching. Junho whimpered again, eyes growing wide.

"It's that they'll always try to lie to save their own skins," he finished.

He slowly brought the blade up to the other's face. Junho tried to move away, but Suga, having walked up behind him, placed his hands on either side of his head, effectively immobilizing him.

"We both know you don't have a wife or a daughter, and that you know exactly what is about to happen," Jackson continued, reaching out to drag the blade painfully down Junho's face.

He screamed out and tried to move away again, but Suga held him fast.

Just as Jackson began moving the blade towards his eye, there was a banging on the door before it was thrown open and a man wearing an oversized striped sweater and distressed black jeans that hugged his thighs. His silver hair was carefully styled and his silver piercings gleamed in the low light.
Jackson glared at the guard coming in behind him.

"I thought I said we weren't to be disturbed," Jackson said, wiping the blade on Junho's tattered and bloodstained shirt before putting it away in his suit jacket.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I tried to tell him that but he forced his way through," the guard said with a deep bow.

Jackson snorted and turned to Suga. "I guess your boyfriend must really want to see you, Yoongi," he said.

Suga shook his head, releasing Junho, he turned towards the younger man. "I thought I told you not to visit me when I'm at work," he said, pulling Jimin in for a hug and was rewarded with a peck to the lips.

"I know, Babe, but for once I'm not here for you," he said, finally turning to look at Jackson first then RM.

"There's been an issue at my club, one of the dancers has gone missing," Jimin stated seriously. That caught the attention of everyone in the room.
Jackson snapped his fingers, summoning the guard over.

"Take care of this," he said, gesturing to Junho before standing and walking out of the room, the three other men following behind.

"No no no no, Please, Mr Wang, I'm sorry! Please, I'll do anything!" Junho's cries for mercy went unheeded and soon they were far enough away that they could no longer hear him.

When they made their way into Jackson's office Suga pressed a quick kiss to Jimin's lips, moving off to a side room to, presumably, change out of his bloodied clothes.
Jackson sat down in one of the two leather armchairs in the room, RM taking the other, and Jimin sat on the leather sofa, kicking his feet up onto the mahogany coffee table between them.

"So... one of the dancers disappeared?" Jackson said, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.

Jimin nodded. "One of my best, he didn't show up to work yesterday and when I went to his apartment it was trashed and there was blood on the floor," he stated solemnly, his hand reaching up to fiddled with his earrings.

"His name?" RM questioned.

"Park Jinyoung, goes by Junior when performing, the other dancers said one of the clients was paying particular attention to him, but he didn't want anything to do with them."

RM raised an eyebrow in contemplation. "You're saying he didn't want the attention?" he asked and Jimin nodded, scooting over a bit to make room for Suga, who had returned wearing black biker jeans, a white undershirt, and a worn leather jacket completely free of bloodstains.

"He said the guy was creeping him out, he never looked at any of the other dancers and always paid special attention to him, he even said that he was being followed home after work. We were going to talk about it yesterday, but he never showed. That's when I found his apartment like that." Jimin finished, cuddling up against Yoongi.

RM and Jackson looked at each other for a moment before Jackson spoke next.

"Did he give you a description of the man?" he asked.

Jimin hesitated a moment, glancing at Yoongi first before returning his attention to Jackson.

"Yeah, he said the man had five horizontal lines tattooed on his wrist."

Everyone else froze.

"Shit!" Jackson ground out, turning to look at RM.

"Does that mean what I think it means?"

RM nodded, looking sober.

"Bigbang's back in town," he said.

 

 

Bambam stared at the man in front of him, trying hard not to let his mask of indifference slip even though all he wanted to do was crawl into his bed and cry his eyes out.

"W-what do you mean?" he stammered out.

"Jeez boy, are you deaf? I'm saying that the rent is increasing and you're behind on your payments," his landlord snapped, causing the boy to flinch at his harsh tone.

"But two weeks? I can't pay you that much money in only two weeks!" he stated, tears beginning to form despite his attempts to hold them back.

"It shouldn't be that difficult, a whore like you should be getting plenty of business."

"I don't do that anymore, please just give me more time, I swear I'll come up with the money-," his pleading was cut off by the man angrily waving his hands in front of him.

"No, I want my money in two weeks or you're out on the street, hell, maybe those two brats you live with can do something too, they are certainly pretty enough, and I know a lot of guys who would be interested."

"No, absolutely not, if anyone lays a hand on them- SMACK" he was cut off by a meaty hand coming across his face, snapping his head to the side so hard he was sure he'd have whiplash.

"You'll do what? Don't raise you're voice to me, whore, you should be grateful I'm even giving you two weeks, by rights I could throw you out right now and no one would care, hell I could even have you and you wouldn't be able to do anything."

The man turned away. "Now get out, and don't come back until you have my money," he demanded.

Bambam, holding a hand up to his throbbing face, stood there dazed for a few more seconds before his senses caught back up to him. He gave a quick bow and ran out of the rundown office in the direction of home.

As soon as he was far enough away he let the tears fall, stopping by a lamppost and sobbing until he couldn't stand anymore and sank to the ground. He wondered how his life had become the mess that it was and proceeded to cry even more.

Bambam had come to Korea when he was a teen with his parents. They hadn't even been there for a year when both were killed in a car accident. It was gang related and they were immigrants so people automatically assumed they were involved and brushed his pleas aside.

Because he was an immigrant, with the stigma of his parents hanging over him, no one wanted to take him in or give him a job. So at the age of fifteen he wandered the streets of
Seoul, barely surviving on the scraps that he found in the dumpsters behind restaurants, until a man had approached him and offered him a place to stay and food to eat.

Of course, like the naive boy he was, Bambam accepted the offer from the obvious 'Good Samaritan'. Little did he know that it would pull him into a nightmare of a life that would challenge even the strongest to survive.

At first, everything had been perfect. The man, known to him as Zico, had been nothing but kind. He offered him work in his organization and allowed him to have his own room.

After he had been there for a few weeks did things start to change. Zico would come home from his 'work' angry and would yell at him, occasionally slapping him across the face, only to apologize moments later with excuses that 'It had been a hard day at work' or 'I'm stressed'.

Bambam knew that from then on out things would only get worse.

After a while Zico would come to him and try to kiss him, running his hands up and down Bambam's body. Each time Bambam would tell him no and get away, he would feel dirty in a way that no matter how many baths he took he still felt filthy, his innocent mind not able to process what was happening to him. He tried to leave one day, but Zico caught him and beat him before dragging him to his car. He somehow managed to force the young boy into the trunk and drove him to a rundown building with a glowing sign out front that had seen better days.

He dragged him inside and introduced him to a man called U-Kwon, telling him that this was his new home. The man was good looking and, if Bambam hadn't been intimidated by the cold stare and hungry look in his eyes as he gave him a once over, he might have been attracted to him.

He was then taken to a room at the end of a long hallway lined with doors. The sounds coming from these room were horrifying to listen to, there were screams and pleas as well as the sound of flesh hitting flesh and moaning.

At the time, Bambam didn't know what those sounds meant, but if he had he would have run when he had the chance. The first time U-Kwon came to him he tried to resist, but that only earned him a beating so bad he was unconscious for two days. The next time it happened he did try to fight, but was restrained to the headboard with handcuffs. He had screamed and pleaded to be let go, but his cries fell on deaf ears, after the third and fourth times he no longer asked for mercy, opting instead to close his eyes and hope that the ordeal would soon be over.

In the beginning, U-Kwon was very careful to lock the door to the room when he came and went so that Bambam had no chance to escape. After a few weeks of living like this men other than U-Kwon started showing up. With the changes came things that were far worse than what had ever been done previous, he was forced to 'service' multiple people a day and he had to satisfy every single one of them or U-Kwon would hear of it and punish him.

After almost four months of this did Bambam finally catch a break. Apparently he had become the 'favored' one of U-Kwon's 'stock', he was delicate looking with full lips that simply begged to be kissed, he was well behaved and always did what was asked of him.

This in turn earned him U-Kwon's favor and he started receiving small privileges such as a radio so he could dance again, having stopped after his parent's deaths, which in turn brought more men who wanted to spend the night with 'The Dancing Whore' as they began to dub him. This pleased U-Kwon immensely and soon they had upgraded him to a room with a window, a king sized bed, and a tiny stage with a pole in one corner of the room.

All while this was going on, however, Bambam was biding his time.

Waiting for the right opportunity to escape.

Until his chance finally came.

It was only with a stroke of luck that U-Kwon forgot to lock the door when he came to him one evening. After he had finished he had fallen into a deep sleep, it was then that Bambam had run. Grabbing only the scant clothing that had been provided for him and the few won that U-Kwon had in his wallet, he ran into the streets of Seoul.

No one tried to stop him, which he was grateful for, but he realized he had nowhere to go. He wandered the streets for days before a man propositioned him. At first Bambam said no, burned by the memory of the last time he had agreed, and the man left with a huff, calling him a cheap whore.

It was after the third time someone asked that he finally agreed, his stomach painfully grumbling as he had not eaten for a while. That night was spent in a side alley as someone screwed him against the rough side of a building, eventually finishing and throwing some bills onto the ground beside the battered boy.

The next three years were like this until he met Jeongguk and Yugyeom, twin thirteen year olds who had run away from home in an attempt to escape from their abusive father.
Remembering how his life had been up until that point he offered for them to come live with him and they agreed.

The three of them had now been living together for two years and, honestly, Bambam doesn't know what he would have done with out them, and now that they are a permanent placement in his life, he thinks that he would have died long ago.

Eventually he stopped crying and somehow pulled himself to his feet, continuing on his path towards the small, ratty, one room apartment he and the boys called home. As soon as he was through the doorway he was greeted with the sight of the two fifteen year olds wrestling around on the ground, completely oblivious to their audience. Bambam chuckled lightly which gained the attention of the two boys who jumped up and through their arms around him, knocking him back a few steps until he recovered his balance.

"Bambam!"

"We missed you!"

"Did you bring home any food?"

The questions flew through the air as he disentangled from the almost too skinny arms of the boys and walked to the mat on the floor that served as their bed that they shared.

He pulled the bag slung over his shoulder and opened it, pulling out different kinds of instant ramen and some sweets along with water bottles.

"Oooh! You got us candy!" Jeongguk said excitedly, quickly snatching the small package of kit kats from atop the small pile. After they had made and shared two of the five bags
of ramen, cooking it on their small, sometimes reliable hot pad, Bambam gestured for them to come over.

"Have you got any homework for tomorrow?" he asked and the boys shook their head.

"Nope, we did it before you got back," Yugyeom stated, munching away on a small bag of cookies he took from the pile.

Even though Bambam wasn't their guardian he had insisted that both the boys go to school, they didn't argue, even though they would have rather stayed with him, and tried to make him proud of them by getting good grades.

Bambam was indeed proud of them and let them know that every day.

"Ok," he smiled. "There is something I need to tell you though." They frowned and shifted, waiting to see what had their brother and surrogate father down.

I have to go back to work."

The younger boys bristled. They both knew what he meant when he said that.

"Why?" Yugyeom asked in a small voice.

"Our landlord is raising the rent, and we are already behind, he says we have two weeks to pay him in full before he kicks us out," Bambam said in a defeated tone, running his hands through his black hair, thr distress evident on his face.

"You promised you wouldn't do that anymore!"Jeongguk snapped. He was the oldest of the two and tended to let his emotions control him more than he should, which often led to blow ups like these.

"It's not like I want to do this, Ggukki, but right now I don't have another choice," Bambam retorted, his own temper on the rise.

"Then maybe you should go and get a normal job instead!"

"You don't think I've tried to do that? No one want to hire someone they know used to be a prostitute!"

It was true, most of the jobs he had applied for were run by someone he had serviced at some point during his brief career as 'The Dancing Whore', often having to make a run for it when they tried their luck or threatened to tell U-Kwon where he was.

"Then maybe you should have considered that before choosing to whore yourself out!"

The silence that followed was deafening as those words sank in. Yugeyeom looked horrified at Jeongguk while Bambam just stared in disbelief.

"You think I chose to do this?" he asked incredulously. "You think I wanted to be a whore?"

"T-that's not what I meant-" Jeongguk stammered out.

Bambam laughed thickly, the tears and emotion locking themselves in his throat.

"I'm sure, Jeongguk," Bambam said, refusing to look at him. "It doesn't matter how much I do, I'll awalys be seen as a whore."

The three sat in silence, tears running down Yugyeom's face. Bambam saw this and pulled him into a strong embrace, pressing his face to his chest as the younger boy cried. After a few minutes Yugyeom pulled away and Bamabm brushed the remaining tears from his cheeks.

"It's late, Gyeomie, you have school in the morning, you too, Ggukki," he said with finality.

The other boys didn't argue and proceeded to ready themselves for bed. Thirty minutes later the three were piled together under the thin blanket, the chilly night air working it's way through the poorly insulated walls.

Bambam waited until the sounds of breathing evened out, telling him that they had fallen asleep, before carefully detaching Yugyeom's arm from around his waist and climbing off the mat.

He pulled on the most sensual clothes he had and did his best to style his hair with only the light from the moon pouring in through the window.

He made his way to the door, and opened it, stopping for a long moment to stare at the two sleeping figures, before walking through and closing it quietly.
Unbeknownst to him, however, a pair of eyes watched his every move. As soon as the door closed Jeongguk carefully got up as well, pulling on his threadbare jacket, and hurrying into the night after his friend.

Chapter Text

The Magic Shop, out of all the clubs that Bangtan owned, was by far the most popular. It was set right on the business edge of Gangnam, acting as sort of a bridge between the classes.

A place for people to let loose for a few hours and escape the stress of their daily lives.

The main body of the building was made up of booth seats that branched out in a semi-circle around a black tiled dance floor that would glow when the black lights above were active.

This gave the illusion of a supercharged atmosphere that could become sensual in a heartbeat. The DJ area was set against the east wall with six foot speakers on either side of the four foot state of the art sound board.

On either side of the stand were cages where the dancers could perform in front of the dancing crowds undisturbed by wandering hands.

On the far side of the club was a set of double doors that opened to a stairway that led up to the VIP section in the room above the main club.

Only those who paid substantial amounts of money for memberships or knew the owners personally were allowed access.

This side of the club was more reserved, with a larger stage set at the end of a raised catwalk where dancers could be paid to perform for a small number of people.

Like most clubs, the Magic Shop had rules that were required to be followed.

#1: You can look all you want, but hands off the dancers, if you have business with them you will ask to speak to the manager

#2 You must present your ID at the door

#3 Only those with paid memberships will be allowed into the VIP section, exceptions will be made if and when necessary

#4 If you prove to be a disturbance you will be removed using force

#5 Guests are required to turn in any and all weapons, car keys, and cell phones at the door, if you do not cooperate you will be removed from the premises

#6 We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone

A plaque with these rules was posted in various spots such as at the front door, behind the DJ booth and bar, and the VIP section.

Unlike most clubs, however, was even though it was paid for by Bangtan, they didn't actually own it. The Magic Shop was owned and run by Park Jimin, Min Yoongi's boyfriend. He had no ties to the Jopok besides his boyfriend, and was adamantly against gang violence both around and inside his club.

This, of course, turned his club into the first and only official neutral ground that the rival groups would agree on. He welcomed anyone and everyone, as long as they didn't cause trouble, with a bubbly personality and a smile that could rival the sun's rays.

When Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jackson arrived at the club the following evening, Jimin's notorious smile was present, but the worry was clearly present to those who knew him personally.

He approached the trio and threw his arms around Yoongi's shoulders, nearly catching him off guard if he wasn't already use to spontaneous actions such as this, and pressing a deep kiss on his lips, which Yoongi eagerly reciprocated.

Jackson and Namjoon groaned in both annoyance and embarrassment at the public display of affection normally reserved for the bedroom.

"Must you people do that in public?" Namjoon whined, which was quickly followed by a yelp as Jackson delivered a smack to the back of his head.

"Oh shut up, will you? You and Jin-hyung do the exact same thing, it's frankly disgusting how mushy you two are," Jackson scoffed.

"Excuse you, but forgive me for at least having the decency to do all that 'mushy' stuff in private," Namjoon retorted, more than a little sarcasm leaking into his voice.

"It's not private when you two are sucking face in the kitchen while everyone is trying to eat!"

"We never said you had to watch us do that!"

"Kind of hard not to when it's an open area!"

"Our apartment, our rules!"

As the argument progressed Jimin and Yoongi looked from each other, to the bickering friends, and back to each other. Sometimes it was hard to believe that those two were two of the most powerful and feared crime lords in South Korea.

After about five more minutes of them going back and forth, Yoongi, with a huff a the ridiculousness of it all, reached out and gave the both of them a smack upside the head.

"Ouch!"

"Yoongi-hyung!"

Yoongi rolled his eyes at their obvious immaturity. "If the two of you are finished arguing, we do have slightly more important things to discuss besides Namjoon's love life and Jackson's lack of one," he grumbled.

This statement was met with a chorus of protests from the two in question and giggles from Jimin.

With that, the four men made their way towards Jimin's office, which was up the stairs and opposite the doors leading to the VIP lounge. They entered and Jimin rang the bartender, asking not to be disturbed for any reason save the building burning down.

"So, tell me about this dancer, Jinyoung was it?" Jackson prompted, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette.

Jimin nodded, reaching into his desk and pulling out a file and USB drive.

"Everything you need is in both of these, the security video of the night he disappeared is on that drive along with a digital copy of the file," Jimin said.

"I'll have Jaebum look into it for you," Jackson promised, taking a long drag from the cigarette.

"Seriously though, when are you ever going to get a girlfriend?" Namjoon asked.

Jackson laughed dryly. "Namjoon, you of all people should know that I'm about as straight as a circle," he huffed.

"Boyfriend then," Namjoon retorted.
Jackson sighed, running his hand through his black hair and down to rub the back of his neck.

"I don't know," he finally said. "I'm not really looking for a relationship right now, besides, if I ever did decide to get in with someone the risks would be too high."

"Jackson, come on, it's not that bad, look at Yoongi-hyung and I, or Namjoon-hyung and Jin, neither Jin or I are in the Jopok or Triad and we still make it work,"

Jimin jumped in, fondly stroking Yoongi's thigh as he spoke.

"It's still a risk, and I can't afford to show weakness in front of someone like G-Dragon, as soon as they've caught wind of anything they would destroy me and everything I've ever worked to accomplish," Jackson stated a little more harshly than he'd intended.

"So you think having a relationship is a weakness?" Jimin asked, his face a little too calm.

"Basically, if anyone decided to go after Namjoon, what is the first thing they'd look for?" Jackson asked, an edge of steel beginning to enter into his voice.

"They always go after those who are closest to you, it's almost a rule in our world, take out the lover, destroy the competition."

"Just because you are worried about a possible Achilles Heel doesn't mean you should rule it out completely," Yoongi finally spoke, a hint of something dangerous behind the glare he threw in Jackson's direction, a warning to back off.

Jackson returned Yoongi's glare for several tense seconds before speaking up once more.
"Fine, have it your way, I'm going for a walk?" Without waiting for a response he stood and left the room, putting an end to any possible response.

Namjoon sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face as he stared after his friend.

"He doesn't know it yet, but I can tell he's lonely."
Namjoon turned to face Jimin, confusion all over his face.

"How can you be so sure that's his problem?" He wondered, pulling out two cigarettes and handing one to Jimin.

Jimin shrugged. "He has the same look in his eyes that you had before you met Jin-hyung, you two are a lot more similar than you think," he stated quietly, fingers fiddling with the edge of his white shirt.

"I'll take you're words for it," Namjoon said, lighting his up and taking a long drag to calm his nerves.

 

It had been six hours since he left, he was freezing his ass off, and he still had yet to attract a single customer. The leather jacket he was wearing, meant to draw attention to his narrow shoulders making him appear smaller and more delicate; which is exactly what most men wanted, was cheaply made and very thin.

It took him a while, but he eventually made his way back to the street corner where he used to work two years ago. Not much had changed except for the building across the street, which had been renovated from a run-down apartment complex into a club, music thumping so loud you could feet the bass shaking the very ground he stood on

Bambam sighed as he stared longingly at the club doors, wishing that he could just step inside for a brief moment, just enough to return some feeling to his fingers.

The chill Autumn air blew once again, piercing through the thin jacket right down to his very core, he shivered again, drawing the leather tighter around himself and stomped his feet in a poor attempt to warm himself some.

"Hey, Sweetie, put this on, you look cold," a voice said from behind him, startling him.

He whipped around and his eyes picked out the light blue scarf being held out to him by a pair a delicate hands with perfectly manicured nails.

Making eye contact with the good Samaritan he shook his head. "I can't take this from you, Hyuna-noona," he said, teeth chattering as another gust brushed over them.

"Aish! You and your stupid sense of chivalry, I'm heading back with Hyunseung," Hyuna stated, reaching up to wrap the scarf around his neck.

"You guys are back together again?" Bambam asked.

"Yeah, we've decided to try and make it work this time," she stated.

Hyuna and Bambam went way back, all the way to when she found him; he had been wandering the streets about three months after escaping from U-Kwon.

Three of months of not eating regularly and working every night just for a warm place to sleep took it's toll on him and he collapsed in an alley reeking of piss and rotting food.

When he came too he was lying in a, relatively, clean bed, a hot cup of tea resting on the nightstand next to him. Turns out Hyuna and her on and off again boyfriend Hyunseung had been walking past when Hyunseung saw someone hunched over something.

They had investigated only to be met with the sight of an unconscious man, no... boy, being raped.
Hyunseung had attacked and scared the rapist off while Hyuna went to the boy.

At the time she had determined he was at least eighteen, but was horrified to discover than he had only just turned sixteen not long ago. She thought he was much too young to be pulled into a world like hers, a prostitute bowing to the whims of sinful men.

He had stayed with the couple for almost six months, while he recuperated. The whole time Hyuna tried to convince him to turn away from the path he had chosen, but he refused, stating that there was no way to go back after what had been done to him, so instead, Hyuna decided to help him, teaching him how to manipulate and control someone using his charm and backstory to win favor.

His time spent with the two was not without bumps however, Hyunseung and Hyuna fought often, each escalating to a shouting match that he could hear from outside the trashy apartment.

Each fight often ended with Hyunseung storming out, leaving behind a distraught Hyuna that Bambam would hold until she fell alseep, tear stracks running down her face and smearing her makeup, dyed shoulder length blonde hair smoothed back where Bambam had stoked it tirelessly.

Eventually Hyuna broke the news that Hyunseung had left and that they were being kicked out of the apartment. Hyuna had hugged him and said that they should go separate ways for a time and Bambam had agreed.

He promised to try to keep in contact, since she had become like a mother and sister as well as friend to him.

"You're sure you'll be happy?" he asked, worry entering his voice.

Hyuna just smiled, rubbing his arms affectionately and trying to restore some warmth to him. "I'm sure, before we didn't know what we each wanted, now it's working itself out, I'm happy with what I've got," she stated sincerely.

"If you ever need a place to go, you and the boys are welcome anytime," Hyuna said. Bambam had run into her one day and told her all about Jeongguk and Yugueom, she had laughed and pinted out the sparkle in his eyes when he gushed about the two people who made his life better, stating that he should have told her when she had become an aunt sooner.

Bambam pulled her in for a hug, happy for his friend, but also a little saddened.

"Thanks, Noona, but I don't think we'll need it, I've got it taken care of," Bambam said, the lie in his voice obvious to everyone who could possibly be able to hear it, not that they'd care.

Hyuna smiled sadly but chose not to say anything about his current situation.

"Well, see you later then, I'll send you our new address soon, just in case you change your mind."

With that final statement Hyuna walked away to a dirty yellow cab that sat waiting for her next to the sidewalk, only looking back once before climbing inside to where her newly reacquired boyfriend waited.

Bambam had just enough time to see the two share a passionate kiss when the vehicle slowly pulled away, leaving Bambam all alone.

Out of the entire job it was always the waiting that was most difficult for Bambam.

Whether or not he would go home with enough money to pay the rent or feed the boys was always on his mind, he often times went without eating just so that they could feel some semblance of relief from the hunger pangs that often kept him awake at night.

It was almost three in the morning, he had been standing there for the past five hours waiting for someone to approach him, but they were sadly lacking.

The other girls walking the block had left with dates one by one until it was just him and another girl waiting alone. The two passed the time talking to each other about meaningless things until she suddenly interrupted the conversation for a customer.

Now Bambam was alone.

With no one else to talk to and no work for him that night he decided to call it quits. With a heavy heart he mentally checked off one day out of the final two weeks allotted to him by his crappy landlord.

"Hey, Baby, what's a pretty thing like you doing out here all by himself?" a voice asked.

Bambam's heart skipped a beat.

Finally, a chance to earn the money he so desperately needed.

"Oh, just waiting for someone to keep me company," he said, turning on the charm. Fluttering he eyelashes and biting his full lips while avoiding a customer's gaze always worked, playing the cute innocent card had them falling right at his feet.

"What you say we take this somewhere more private," the man said and Bambam nodded.

Twenty minutes later found them desperately making out against the side a building, the man with a thigh between Bambam's legs as he ground into him, pulling moans and gasps from the younger man.

"What's you're name, Doll?' he asked breathlessly, capturing his lips with i=his own again.

"I'm called Bambam," he said, reciprocating eagerly.

"Pretty name for a pretty boy, it suits you," the man growled, as he spoke Bambam could feel him getting more aggressive with his touch and kisses.

He doesn't know what set off the warning bells in his head, but he suddenly had the feeling that this guy had more than just lust filled intentions.

"Wait, let's slow down-" Bambam began, lightly pressing his hands against the man's muscular chest so he could look him on the eyes.

When he did he felt a shiver travel up his spine, they were dark and menacing, a feeling of foreboding slowly filled his mind.

"What's wrong, Doll? You don't like this?" The man asked, attempting to move in for another kiss.

Bambam turned his head away slightly, feeling the man's frown when lips met cheekbone.

"I just think we should slow down a little, besides you haven't even told me you're name," he tried to laugh it off.

"Most people don't know my real name, but I usually go by B-Bomb."

Bambam felt his blood grow cold with that statement. The fear must have shown on his face because the man laughed, gripping his arms tightly, much tighter than he should have been.

B-Bomb had been U-Kwon's right hand man, keeping the clients in line while they did their business and making sure the 'stock' didn't cause any problems.

Bambam had never actually seen him since he was locked away for the entirety of his visit, but he had heard about him. And what he knew terrified him to no end

"That's right, Doll, did you ever think U-Kwon would ever let his best whore go? All he's had since you left are requests for one night with the 'Dancing Whore', since you ran away from him though he's become a laughing stock."

Bambam began to struggle, but B-BOMB held him fast.

"He never stopped looking for you, you know, constantly going on about the bitch who owed him, he gave you food and shelter and you threw that generosity away, of course you have to make all that up to him now that I've found you."

"Please don't-" Bambam pleaded.

"However, I never did get to have a taste of his best stock, shouldn't we rectify that?" B-Bomb asked maliciously.

With one arm around Bambam's throat he attacked his lips again, the other making it's way down his body contact where it began to yank on the younger's tight leather pants.

"No, please-!" He began, cut off by the viciousness horribly disguised as a kiss. B-Bomb bit his lower lip, until he opened his mouth to cry out from the pain, before forcing his tongue inside.

Bambam tried his best to push him off, but the man was easily twice him size, and had a temper to match.

He pulled back and planted a hard slap across his face.

"Don't try to fight it, you know you want this, it's all you're good for," B-Bomb snarled.

Bambam ignored him and continued to struggle, at one point freeing his left hand enough to take a chance, he punched B-Bomb right in the nose.

The older man howled in pain as he felt cartilage and bone give way, temporarily dropping his victim to clutch his bleeding face.

While he was distracted Bambam pushed him away and tried to run, but he made it barley four feet before he felt a hand grab his hair and pull him back before his face was forced into the brick wall of the alley.

"You Bitch, you broken my nose!!!" B-Bomb shouted, slamming Bambam against the wall again before throwing him to the ground

Dazed, with blood pouring down the side of his face, Bambam tried to crawl away, but he felt something heavy come down on top of him.

He realized his assailant was cover his body with his own and felt his jeans start to be pulled down once more.

"No please-" he slurred, the fogginess in his brain making it difficult to stuggle much more.

B-Bomb was grunting in his attempts to remove the article of clothing, the position making it a little more difficult to remove it

"Whore's like you need to be shown their place," B-Bomb grunted out.

By this time, however, Bambm's vision was beginning to swim.

He didn't want this.

He didn't want to be raped in a side alley.

And he especially didn't want to be sent back to U-Kwon...

The boys, what about Jeongguk and Yugyeom?

Who would take care of them if he never came home? The landlord would throw them out without a second thought.

They would be forced to follow in his footsteps in order to survive.

Bambam went completely limp with that last thought.

'I'm so sorry, Ggukkie, Gyeomie, I wish it wasn't going to be like this,' he thought, already resigned to his fate.

Just as his vision dimmed he heard shouting and suddenly the weight was lifted off him.

He passed out to the sound of a scuffle and wondered who had bothered taking the time to save someone like himself.

Chapter Text

He was sitting at the dinner table at his home in South Korea with his parents, eating the rice and dishes his mother had so painstakingly prepared for them.

Taking a bite of his food his father broke the silence.

"Have you thought about what school you are attending for University?" he asked, his gaze boring into Bambam's.

Bambam shook his head, mouth full of rice as he spoke, a few grains escaping. His mother look at him with disapproval but it was belied by the fond smile gently gracing her features.

He smiled sheepishly at her and she began to laugh, adding to the laugh lines already around her eyes as she took in the state of her son. His cheeks were puffed out, so full of rice that he could barely close his lips, his chopsticks poised midair over the bowl of meat sitting between them.

"Sorry, Eomma," he said, more rice falling from his mouth. His mother just laughed again and lightly swatted his arm.

He finished his mouthful quickly in order to answer the question.

"Yes, Appa, I was accepted into Seoul National University, I'll be starting this coming semester," Bambam said as soon as his mouth was empty.

"Yes, very good, I'm proud of you son, you're turning into a good man, just like Chatigamon," his father said, helping himself to another serving of vegetables.

Bambam paused at that, his spoon halfway to his mouth.

"What?" he asked, genuine confusion etched onto his face. "Who's Chatigamon?"

"Why, you should know that, Honey, he's your older brother," his mom said, confusion washing over her. "He's in his second year of University."

"I don't know anyone called Chatigamon," Bambam said.

"Son, what are you talking about, of course you would know your older brother," his mother said again.

"I honestly don't know who you're talking about," Bambam exclaimed.

"Kunpimook! You will speak respectfully to your mother," his father's tone brooking no argument, he even used his true name instead of his nickname, that meant he was really
serious.

"I'm sorry, Appa, but I really have no idea what you're talking about," Bambam said, bowing respectfully to both his parents.

Just as they were about to speak again they heard the front door opening and closing.

"Appa! Eomma! I'm home!"

"That must be your brother now, you'll see, Dear, I'm sure if you see him you'll remember him," his mother exclaimed, standing from the table to go greet her eldest son.

When she returned, a man followed behind her and moved to sit across from Bambam.

He froze when he saw his so called "older brother", for he was the spitting image of Bambam, or rather... Bambam was the spitting image of him.

"How's my little bro? I heard you got into Seoul University!" Chatigamon exclaimed, pride in his voice.

Bambam didn't know what to say so he just nodded and went back to eating his food.

Dinner continued on as normal as it could be, his parent's asking his "Hyung" how University was, if he had a girlfriend yet, etc.

It was maybe twenty minutes later when a thought occurred to him.

"H-hyung," he began, stuttering over his slight discomfort with the term, "What year were you born?"

Chatigamon snorted, looking at each of them. "What kind of a question is that? You should know, Bambam, I'm a '95 liner, I'm two years older." He said, throwing a winning smile his way.

But Bambam didn't return it, instead he sat there just staring at his "hyung" in disbelief.

"That's not possible, you're not supposed to be alive," he said, his voice wavering slightly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" his father demanded.

"You're not supposed to be here," Bambam said again, his voice hardening.

"Are you feeling alright, Sweetie?" His mother asked, reaching over to feeling his forehead, but he swatted her hand away, his disbelief quickly changing to fear and anger.

"You died!" Bambam shouted, standing suddenly and upsetting the cup of tea in front of him.

"Kunpimook, that's enough!" his father shouted, standing as well.

"No, he's not supposed to be here!" Bambam said again.

"Why not? What is this nonsense!?" His father demanded.

"Is he not my son? Did I not bring him into this world through pain and anguish, just like I did with you!?" his mother cried, tears filling her eyes.

Bambam shook his head. "No you didn't, Eomma, it's true you were pregnant in 1995, but you never had a baby."

"Yes I did, the evidence is sitting right here!" She exclaimed, placing a hand on Chatigamon's shoulder, said person placing a hand over hers.

"It's alright, Eomma, let me handle this," he said, getting up and approaching the younger man.

"It's obvious I'm here, Brother, I don't know what you've been drinking but I can assure you that I'm very much here." He placed a hand on Bambam's shoulder, only to have it violently pushed away.

"Yah! Why are you like this?" Chatigamon demanded.
"Because you're not real! It's trued that Eomma was pregnant and it's true that it was going to be a boy and they were going to name him Chatigamon, but she never carried him to term!"

"I did-" she began but Bambam cut her off angrily.

"NO YOU DIDN'T!" he shouted. "You were in an accident, you were walking across the street and someone hit you with their car, you lost the baby!"

The next thing he knew his head was jerked to the side, stinging terribly, and his father stood before him, fury filling every pore in his body and the offending hand coming back to rest at his side.

"Not one more word, Kunpimook, I forbid it!" He spat, his body trembling with restrained anger. Bambam stood there with a hand pressed against his throbbing face, staring incredulously at the man before him.

From the time he was little, his father had never once raised a hand against either him or his mother.

As he had that thought the pain on his face began to grow, to the point where he was holding his head in agony, a migraine having set in.

Suddenly it hit him.

"This isn't real," he whispered, more to himself than anything.

"What was that?" his father demanded and Bambam looked up, only to be met with a sight that pushed the very air from his lungs.

They were standing in the street surrounded by people, and behind them was the wreckage of a frighteningly familiar vehicle.

"No... no no no no no no NO!" He screamed.

He turned and was met with the sight of his parents burning and screamed again.

"This was all your fault," his mother said. "None of this would have happened if you had stayed where you were told."

"I- I d- din't mean to-"

"Excuses can't fix the past, we are dead and it's all on you!" His father said.

The two of them continued to burn until Bambam couldn't look anymore.

He turned away and was about to run when he was met with an even more horrifying sight. Before him stood the one person he feared most.

"Ah ah ah, the little whore was disobedient, now you have to be punished," U-Kwon said, grabbing Bambam by the arms. "And I'm going to enjoy every minute of it."

The older man ran his tongue up the side of his face and Bambam shuddered in disgust and fear.

"N- No, I don't want to!" He shouted, struggling to get away, which only earned him another slap to the face.

U-Kwon chuckled evilly. "You don't get to say no, you are and always will be my little dancing whore," he whispered in Bambam's ear.

"No no no no no no! Please NO!" Bambam cried, he twisted violently and managed to break free from his grasp. Surprisingly, the older man let him go, Bambam could see him
watching as he ran.

But it didn't last long.

He came to a screeching halt when two very familiar people suddenly blocked his path.

"I told you you'd be nothing more than a whore, dropping to your knees at the first sign of trouble," Jeongguk spat.

"Why did you leave us, Hyung," Yugyeom cried, fat tears rolling down his face as his older brother held him.

"N- No, I was doing it for you- I-," Bambam said weakly.

"Well we don't need your help," Jeongguk snapped. "I hate you!"

Bambam recoiled from the viciousness in his voice.

"Gyeomie-" he began, but the youngest turned away, burying his face in the older twin's shirt.

"We don't want to talk to you," Jeongguk snapped. "Just leave us alone!"

Bambam backed away, unable to process what he had just heard, when he felt a hand grab the back of his neck.

"A shame, really, but it doesn't matter, you're mine now," U-Kwon said.

Bambam tried to fight, but the older man was too strong.

He kicked his feet out from under him and Bambam could feel himself falling when his head suddenly hit the pavement.

Spots danced before his eyes and he could feel the arms of unconsciousness attempting to drag him down.

He shook his head and tried to rise, but he was quickly flipped over and he was met with the sight of B-Bomb undoing his belt.

"No, please," Bambam said weakly, trying to fight, but it was as if his limbs had been weighed down, he couldn't move them, and if he couldn't move... he couldn't fight.

He felt his breathing beginning to pick up as B-Bomb hovered over him, running his filthy hands under his shirt and over his body.

"You can't get away, whore, you never will," he could hear someone saying, but by this point he could barely hear anything over the sound of blood rushing through his ears.

His vision began to waver and there was a tightening in his chest. Just as he felt a hand fiddling with his jeans, his vision went dark and he was finally taken into the warm embrace
of unconsciousness.

 

"Um, guys I think he's waking up," a faint voice said, which was quickly followed by the voices of several other people.

Bambam couldn't tell how many were in the room with him but as soon as he opened his eyes he was met with the sight of someone with silver hair standing over him. If Bambam hadn't known he was alive, he would have thought that this person was an angel.

"Hi, my name is Jimin," the man said. "Do you have a name?"

"Bambam," he whispered, so low Jimin almost missed it. "Where-?'

"Well, Bambam, you are currently inside my club, you were being attacked and were hurt pretty badly, one of my... friends found you and brought you here," he supplied.

Bambam's head suddenly began to ache as Jimin spoke.

He was attacked.

What happened to B-Bomb? Did they scare him off? Is he going to come back for him? Oh God, what about Jeongguk and Yugyeom?!

"Hey, hey, it's alright," Jimin said, noticing that the younger man's breathing had picked up. "You need to take deep breaths and let them out slowly or you'll pass out again."

Bambam tried to do as Jimin asked.

Then he felt someone grab his leg.

Whatever bit of reason he had fled with that single touch, he began to thrash, trying desperately to get away. He could vaguely hear someone yelling but couldn't tell who, the next
thing he knew his arms and legs were being pinned down, which in turn caused him to thrash around more.

"No, please let me go!" He cried, the adrenaline filling his system with enough of a rush that he was able to pull a hand free and send it right into the face of an unknown man with light brown hair. The man yelped and held his face for a brief second before grabbing a hold of the offending limb and pressing it down even more.

By this time his breathing had picked up again and the tell tale signs that he was going to pass out appeared again. He could feel his limbs getting heavier as his lungs struggled to pull oxygen from the air into his panicking body, and tears rolled down his face in droves.

After a few seconds his body stopped thrashing, too low on the precious life giving air to continue. He did however have just enough to plead and hope they would actually show mercy.

"Please, don't hurt me, I don't want it," he said weakly, tears continuing to fall.

He could hear someone cursing and a second later he could feel fingers running through his hair in a soothing manner, reminding him of his mother.

"Shh, it's alright, you're safe now," a voice said. Bambam could feel his eyes getting heavy.

"No I'm not, please don't..." he whimpered, his voice drifting off and unconsciousness pulling him down again into it's embrace, and he knew no more.

 

When Jackson left the Magic Shop he was livid. How dare they thing they had the right to tell him what to do with his life, because it was just that... HIS life!

And here he was three hours later drinking away his anger in a seedy old bar where no one knew him as the biggest Chinese crime lord this side of Asia.

Unfortunately, his peace was about to be disturbed by the one person who could possibly make him see reason.

"Dude, how many have you had already?"

Jackson looked up at the person standing over him.

It was Mark Tuan, in all his exceedingly attractive glory, wearing a very nice leather jacket, that most definitely belonged to Jaebum, over a cropped white t-shirt that revealed the
dangling jewel set in his navel. The beginnings of a tattoo visible on his hip just above the waistline where it dipped down past the rim of his tight leather pants. His brown hair
with blonde highlights was carefully styled in a way that brought attention to his exceedingly handsome face.

All in all, Jackson had to admit that he'd be a sweet ride if he wasn't already taken.

"Not enough," he huffed, downing his... sixth? Seventh? He'd lost track how many glasses of beer he'd had quite some time ago.

What really sucked though is that no matter how many he did drink it was really difficult for him to get drunk. Out of everything his worthless piece of shit father had done, the
only thing he bothered to actually leave him was his outstanding tolerance for alcohol.

Mark just chuckled at the answer, silver earrings twinkling in the light of the bar, and sat down across from him.

Jackson lit his ninth cigarette of the night... morning? and took a long drag before offering it to Mark who gratefully accepted it.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the acrid fumes, and held for three seconds before releasing it.

"You wanna talk about it?" He finally asked, fingers expertly flicking the ash off the end of the stick.

Jackson shook his head. "Nothing to talk about."

"Like I'll believe that," Mark snorted.

"How did you find me?" He asked.

Mark raised an eyebrow that said 'did you really just ask that?'

"I know you, you always run off and find some seedy bar to drown your sorrows away in," Mark said.

Jackson who gave a look of disbelief. " Really," he said sarcastically.

Mark chuckled again. "Nah, I just had Jaebum hack your phone to find out where you were," he admitted.

"That son of a bitch!" Jackson laughed. "I should have known, it's obvious he can't resist you."

Mark just smiled fondly in response.

Jackson sighed heavily, running his free hand violently through his black hair. "I don't know what to tell you, apparently everyone seems to think I need to start a relationship, even
though it could be dangerous for whoever I'm with... That's pretty much the gist of it."

Mark hummed and took another drag from the cigarette, contemplating his response to what Jackson had said.

"Ka Yee, you don't need to worry about having a relationship, while I do agree with the others that it would do you some good, it's also a decision only you can make," he
responded, using Jackson's Chinese name.

He and Mark went way back, all the way to the time when he first joined the Triad in Hong Kong.

Mark had been a dancer at the time, horribly abused by the men who owned him, when Jackson came along and released him, giving him the option of leaving and returning
home.

Mark never did, instead he decided to stick around for a bit, which led to Jackson introducing him to Jaebum.

Jackson didn't know if that was such a good thing anymore, since then he had caught them more than twenty times making out in the supply closets

"Anyway, we need to get going, I'm pretty sure RM has smoke through your secret stash of imported cigars while waiting for you," Mark said, standing up suddenly and hauling
Jackson along with him.

"That Son of a Bitch better not have, those things are expensive," Jackson grumbled. "We have to plan how we're going to deal with Bang too."

Mark just pat him on the shoulder and the two men left the building and headed towards the Magic Shop.

 

 

"Aish!" Jeongguk huffed. He pulled his threadbare jacket tighter around his body in a poor attempt to preserve the little remaining heat he had left, not that it mattered much, his
fingers had gone numb a long time ago.

When he followed Bambam out of their shared apartment hours before he hadn't banked on the fact that Bambam knew the streets better than he did.

He had managed to follow at a safe distance for almost an hour before he had lost him just shy of the red light district.

So here he was almost five hours later and he still hadn't found his Hyung. It was now five a.m. and he had school in three frikin' hours!

He pulled out the ancient flip phone and flicked to the photo he had had up for the past three hours. He probably asked almost a hundred people if they had seen Bambam, but
each and every time he was told no.

But he didn't want to give up!

He knew Bambam could take care of himself, but without him both Jeongguk and Yugyeom wouldn't be able to survive.

"You know what, screw school, I don't need that shit anyway!" Jeongguk declared with surety. But a small niggling feeling in the back of his mind began feeding guilt into him.

Bambam wanted them to go to school so they wouldn't turn out like him.

As Jeongguk stared at the smiling face of his Hyung he could feel the tears slowly starting to fall.

Bambam had given up so much for them and he had repaid that by calling him a whore.

He felt a sob rip through his body which was quickly followed by another and another until he was full out crying. He cradled the phone to his chest and sank to his knees, and
coming up to cover his eyes as he cried for his twin, for his hyung, and ultimately, for himself.

Jeongguk had no idea how long he kneeled there, but it felt like an eternity until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Kid, you alright?"

Jeongguk rubbed his eyes furiously, attempting to erase all evidence of his moment of weakness and turned to look at who had spoken to him.

A man with brown hair and blonde highlights wearing a leather jacket stood over him, the worry evident of his face. Jeongguk scrambled to his feet, dusting off his knees and
nodding.

"I'm fine, Mr, just having a bad night," he said, trying and failing to hide the slight quaver in his voice. From his now standing position he could see another man lingering behind
the one in front of his. This man had black hair that looked like he had been running his fingers through in aggressively and wore no jacket, just a low cut printed shirt and a gold
chain to protect him from the chilly autumn air.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" the mad prodded gently.

Jeongguk looked at him for several seconds, trying and failing to determine if this man had any ulterior motives for asking.

"I'm looking for my brother, he left our apartment several hours ago and I lost track of him," he finally said.

"Does you brother have a name?" the man asked.

"Yeah, Bambam," Jeongguk said. "It's what he prefers to be called, I have a picture if you need it," he offered, surprising himself a little at how at ease he felt around this stranger.

"Let's take a look then."

Jeongguk showed him the picture and the man hummed to himself.

"Can you send me the picture so I know if I find him?" he asked.

Jeongguk listened to the man recite his number and sent the photo, constantly aware of the man checking him out and he began to wonder if this had been a mistake.

"Alright," the man said, breaking Jeongguk out of his silent musings. "I sent you a text so you have my number, and I'll let you know if I find him."

"Thank you, sir,"Jeongguk said with a bow.

"My name is Mark, but, please, call me Hyung," Mark said with a smile. "Is it just you and your brother?"

"Jeongguk hesitantly shook his head. "No, there's three of us, I have a younger twin brother too, he's waiting back at our apartment."

Mark nodded sadly. "You going to school?"

Jeongguk nodded. "My Hyung won't let me consider anything else."

Mark nodded in satisfaction. "You'd best be getting home then, it is a school night and I'm sure your hyung wants you to do your very best."

Jeongguk nodded again. "Yes, Sir- Hyung, I'm sure he would."

"I'll leave you to it then, come one Jackson, we need to get going," Mark said to the other man, who simply rolled his eyes and started walking away. Turning back to the boy Mark
gave him one last piece of advice.

"If you ever need anything just give me a call, and I do mean anything," he said with such sincerity that Jeongguk couldn't help but believe that he meant what he said.

Jeongguk nodded numbly and watched the two men walk away before turning to make his way back to the apartment and Yugyeom.

 

"Why did you feel the need to do that?" Jackson asked Mark when they were far enough away from the boy, who by this time had already turned to go home, from what Mark could
see.

Mark sighed heavily before answering.

"Because he reminded me of us, both trying to get by, from what I could see that piece of clothe he calls a jacket does absolutely nothing for him at this point."

"Still, did you really have to give him your number?"

"Of course I did, I am morally obligated to do so, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't question me on that," Mark said, a tone of finality in his voice.

At that the two continued to walk in silence towards Jimin's club. They had just walk by several alleys when they heard the unmistakable sound of someone gasping in pain.

"Hold on," Mark said, stopping both of them in their tracks. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I did," Jackson said. The two men looked at each other and reached a silent agreement before making their way towards one of the alley's.

As the got closer the could vaguely hear people talking.

"No please-" came a whimpered plea and Mark could feel his blood grow cold.

"Whores like you need to be shown their place," came the reply followed by the sound of cloth being rubbed against cloth.

As the two men came around the corner all they could see was a large man's body covering a smaller one in his attempts to pull the smaller one's jeans down.

As soon as his brain processed what was happening Jackson saw red. He lunged towards the two people and ripped the larger one off. The other man's nose was already bleeding
and he could see that it was broken. Jackson wasted no time, sending a fist right into the man's face who retaliated by diving at Jackson in an attempt to use his larger size to
bring him down. The other man delivered three swings to Jackson's face, two of which landed hard, but Jackson had no time to lose.

Jackson ducked under the raised arms of the man and placed three powerful jabs to the man's solar plexus, effectively winding him, before following up with a blow to the back of
the man's head, which finally brought him down, his eyes rolling back as he fell forward unconscious.

Breathing heavily Jackson turned towards Mark, who had gone to the smaller man's side. Mark gently rolled him over and was met with the sight of bruised lips and a wound on
the man's temple that was pouring blood.

"Is he alright?" Jackson said, slightly dazed from the couple good shots the bigger man had gotten in.

"It' doesn't look good, we need to get him indoors so I can asses the damage," Mark said. Being a medical student sure did have it's advantages, Jackson thought to himself,
thankful, not for the first time, that Jaebum had pushed Mark into going back to school.

"Do we know who the other one is?" Mark asked, gently pressing a spare handkerchief to the wound in an attempt to stop the flow of blood.

Jackson turned back to the now unconscious man and flipped him over onto his back, then promptly cursed in Chinese, Korean, and English.

"It's B-Bomb, that bastard U-Kwon's dog," he said. Everyone in the underground knew about Zico and his gang of miscreants, Block B. U-Kwon was his right hand man and ran the most infamous illegal brothel on this side of Seoul and B-Bomb was his personal 'enforcer'.

Mark cursed as well. "Shit, aren't they supposed to stay away from our territory?"

"Rules never did suit B-Bomb very well, he goes where he wills and does what he wants. Not even Zico dares try to control him, and U-Kwon doesn't even care."

Jackson pulled out his untraceable cell and dial the first contact that appeared. When the other end picked up he lost no time with formalities.

"Hey, its Jackson, I need you to send some men to clean up some trash," Jackson said.

"Sure thing, Boss, any special instructions?" Choi Younjae, Jackson's head enforcer asked.

"Yeah, it's B-Bomb, you know what to do," Jackson stated.

There was a temporary pause before Younjae spoke again. "Right, I'll have the men prepare special accommodations for our soon to be guest."

With that Jackson hung up.

Turning back to Mark he didn't get a chance to say anything before to doctor in his friend came out full force.

"Jackson, we need to move him now, this bleeding isn't slowing down and I don't have my tool with me," Mark snapped. Jackson quickly dropped a small tracking device for
Younjae next to the unconscious gangster and moved to help Mark.

Within Minutes Mark had draped the young man over Jackson's back and adjusted him head so that it was lying sideways so he could conitued to put pressure on the wound.

With that the odd trio headed of towards Magic Shop, Mark silently praying that they would be able to help this poor person in time.

Chapter Text

It had been several hours since their guest’s panic attack and subsequent loss of consciousness, the experience having shaken quite a few people, Jimin and himself first and foremost.
Just thinking about what the poor kid had said as he fought to free himself from them simply proved his theory that he had had an extremely hard life.

The words Bambam had spoken with tears running down his face to mix with the blood not yet cleaned off left a haunting image in his mind, the kind you would normally only find in horror movies.

“Please don’t…”

“I don’t want it…”

“Please…”

Mark looked over to the cot where the boy lay, having been hurriedly set up by Jimin when he and Jackson arrived with their cargo, thinking about the past couple of hours.

 

Jimin had been at his desk going over the evenings earnings after the club had closed for the night, mumbling to himself about hiring some more staff on the weekends to keep up with customers, when the doors to his office slammed open so hard the painting he had purchased for $50,000 went crashing to the floor, the wooden frame splintering beyond repair.

Jimin startled at the sudden noise and was about to yell at the idiot who damaged such an expensive piece of art whilst reaching for the panic button Yoongi’s friend, Hoseok, had installed for him in case of an emergency. But when he caught sight of who was there all anger quickly changed to surprise.

Actually, to say Jimin was surprised was a bit of an understatement, his face had quickly morphed from one of surprise at seeing Jackson so soon after their argument to confusion at the scene before him and, ultimately, to horror at the sight of the bloody young man completely limp on Jackson’s back as Mark held a blood soaked handkerchief to the boy’s head.

“Oh my god, what the happened!” He exclaimed, temporarily frozen at the sight before him.

Before Jackson was able to respond Mark jumped in, his doctor side had completely taken over and he was not in the mood for foolish questions when more important things had to be done.

“Jimin, grab the spare cot you keep in the closet!” He barked.

“But what…” Jimin began, only to be cut off by the urgency all over the faces of the two men in front of him.

“No questions right now, hurry and bring the cot!” Mark said again, this time with a shout that spurred the younger man into action.

Jimin threw opened the closet and randomly tossed items aside before finally grabbing a hold of the folded up piece of furniture.
He set it op in the center of them room and Mark carefully guided Jackson to turn around and sit on it, helping his to gently lay the man down. As soon a he was free of the weight Jackson jumped up and pulled out his cellphone.

“Do you guys have this?” He asked, turning to face the older.

Mark nodded but didn’t speak, choosing to exclusively focus on the head wound the kid had sustained, and Jackson could be heard using his cellphone o talk to Youngjae and he briskly strode out of the room, Jimin quickly shutting the doors behind him.

“Who is he?” Jimin queried as Mark flitted around, taking his pulse and checking pupil dilation with the flashlight on his phone.

“I don’t know yet, Jackson and I found him about to be raped by Block B’s B-Bomb about four blacks from here.”

“Holy shit,” Jimin breathed, the look of concern on his face doubling in intensity.

Mark didn’t respond, instead he moved towards the small bathroom across the room from them and grabbed as all the rags and towels he could see while searching for something to hold water with.

A few moments later he spied a decorative glass bowl holding a variety of seashells on a nearby shelf. He quickly disposed of them shell and was in the process of filling it with warm water when he heard the doors to the office open, the hushed whispers of the newcomers filling the otherwise silent room.

Mark rushed out of the bathroom holding the bowl and rags, bypassing a very confused RM and Suga as he carefully placed the former down whilst tossing the pieces of cloth at Jimin to hold while he went for the first aid kit he knew the younger man kept inside the massive desk.

“What the hell happened,” Namjoon asked as soon as he saw Mark.

“B-Bomb happened, Jackson’s dealing with it, now don’t talk to me,” his tone and posture completely focused on the person on the cot.

Both Suga and RM sucked in a breath at the mention of the attacker’s identity, giving each other a knowing look.

Mark was digging through the emergency kit when he heard Jimin call out.

“Um, guys, I think he’s waking up,” the silver haired man said, leaning over and trying to look in the man’s eyes.

“Hi, my name is Jimin, do you have a name?”

“Bambam,” the person said weakly, his eyes were glazed over and there was a slight slur in his words. “Where-?”

“Well, Bambam, you are currently inside my club, you were being attacked and were hurt pretty badly, two of my… friends found you and brought you here,” he said.
The man, now known to the others as Bambam, looked even more confused until the weight of Jimin’s words seemed to take effect.

His breathing began to pick up and Mark could see the tell-tale signs of a panic attack in the making.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” Jimin tried to calm Bambam down and it seemed to be working. Mark saw one of his legs begin sliding off the cot and Yoongi reached over to grab it, the protest for him touching the kid dying on his tongue as soon as skin met skin.

Like a light switch being flicked on in an empty room, the clarity seemed to return to the boy’s face and, while he was still weak, he began thrashing s strong as he could.

He seemed to have a burst of adrenaline hit him because when Mark when to grab one of his arms, with Jimin grabbing the other, he felt a fist hit him in the left side of his face throwing him off balance for half a second before reaching for the offending arm again and holding it down while place a hand on his chest to keep him down.

The kid’s breathing had picked up to the point where he was hyperventilating and Mark could feel the thrashing beginning to wane as the boy began to plead, tearing falling from his eyes and a look of resignation slowly took over his features.

“Please, don’t hurt me, I don’t want it,” he whispered, all the while he stopped trying to free himself from the hold the two older had he him.

“Shit, what the fuck!” Namjoon exclaimed as the situation fully hit him at what B-Bomb had done.

Mark leaned over, slightly loosening his grip. “Shh, it’s alright, you’re safe now,” He soothed, trying to calm the now crying boy down.

“No… I’m not, please don’t…” he whimpered, his eyes falling closed as he finally passed out from the ack of oxygen from his heavy breathing.

Mark’s jaw ached and he knew there would be a bruise there. Jae’s not gonna be happy, he thought to himself.

“Okay… correct me f I’m wrong, but was he…?” Namjoon asked, allowing the sentence to trail off since he already knew the answer.

“Yes and no, Jackson and I stopped it before he went too far,” he replied, gently wiping the blood from Bambam’s face.

“Damn it, Jackson and I are gonna have to talk about Zico’s apparently lack of respect for our borders.”

Mark was about to speak up when a cell phone went off. Suga reached into his jacket and placed the offending device in RM’s hand, the latter answering it and listening before turning and walking towards the doors.
Suga stayed behind for a moment longer to talk to Jimin, the two sharing a quick kiss and hug before the older quickly left, closing the doors behind him and RM, who was waiting for him.

“Mark-Hyung, do you think he’ll be okay?” Jimin asked tentatively.

When he was in public Jimin often projected an aura of strength and dominance, never taking no for an answer, but behind closed doors he was just the boyfriend and business partner of people he cared about who could end up on his doorstep bleeding out or even dead, that alone being enough to share him half to death every time Yoongi walked through those doors.

“Physically yes, mentally however, I can’t be positive, but he’s gonna have a rough time,” Mark replied solemnly. No more words were shared between the two as they set about wiping the blood off the man’s body.

Chapter Text

When Jeongguk returned to their shitty apartment it was almost six in the morning. Fully expecting Yugyeom to be asleep, he carefully opened the door with his spare key and crept into the room, quietly kicking his shoes off, and made his way towards the restroom to freshen up for school… only to be met startled by the light flicking on and an angry Yugyeom standing in their sorry excuse for a kitchen.

Jeongguk froze like a deer in the headlights at the stony expression on the younger’s normally cheerful face.

“Where the hell were you?” The younger demanded loudly.

“Ummm…” Jeongguk began but was cut off when the other held up a hand.

“And it’d better not be something crappy like the time you snuck out to meet those boys that cause nothing but trouble,” he finished. Even though he was younger, more cheerful, and all around a more like-able person then Jeongguk, Yugyeom was scary when he was angry. And right now he was pissed.

“I was following Hyung,” Jeongguk muttered, looking everywhere except at his brother’s face.

“Why? We already know what he’s doing, why did you need to follow him?!” Yugyeom snapped.

“Because I don’t want him to get hurt, I thought maybe I could convince him to stop,” Jeongguk retorted, all premise of guilt gone.

“Do you have any idea how I felt when I woke up to both of you gone?!” Yugyeom said, the mask he wore beginning to crack, showing Jeongguk the fear hidden behind anger.

“I didn’t know where you went or who you were with, for all I know you could’ve been kidnapped while I was asleep and I wouldn’t hav been able to stop it!” The younger shouted, his mask finally cracking as tears began rolling down his cheeks.

The older quickly rushed over to his younger brother and pulled him into a deep embrace.

Yugyeom sobbed into Jeongguk’s shoulder, his hands twisting the ratty jacket the other wore as if it was the offender.

“I’m sorry, Gyeomie, I didn’t think,” he said, fighting his own tears.

“I just don’t know what I would if something happen to either of you, you both are all I have left,” he sobbed and Jeongguk gripped him tighter.

The twins stayed like that for what seemed like hours before Yugyeom pulled away, sniffling as he wiped at his red-rimmed eyes.

“Did you manage to find out where he was going?” He finally asked in a hoarse voice.

Jeongguk shook his head sadly. “I lost him just before the Red Light District,” he murmured.
The two sat a little while longer before Yugyeom suddenly jumped up. “Oh Shit!” He shouted, looking at the old clock with a cracked face hanging on the wall that now read 7:39 am. They were definitely going to be late for school.

“We need to go!” Yugyeom moved frantically around the room, grabbing the ratty backpack the two shared for school.

“Jeongguk, hurry or we’ll even more late than we already are!”

“I’m not going to school,” Jeongguk said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

This caused Yugyeom to stop in his tracks and stare incredulously at the older.

“What do you mean you’re not going!” He practically shrieked in horror, which would have been hilarious if not for the situation.

“I’m going to look for Hyung,” he stated.

“But, Hyung, what about school, Bambam-Hyung wants us to go,” Yugyeom said.

“I know, but right now he needs us, we don’t know what could happen to him.”

Jeongguk, sighing at the guilty look on his younger brother’s face, got up and grabbed his arms gently.

“You said it yourself, you wouldn’t know what to do if you didn’t have us, it’s the same for me too. I don’t know how I could forgive myself if anything happened to either of you, so please, Gyeomie,” he pleaded.

The younger held his gaze for a long moment before nodding his head, sniffling slightly as he did so.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure that he’s fine, he was on the streets for years before he found us, so he can take care of himself.”

With that the twins emptied the backpack of anything they wouldn’t need, such as schoolbooks and trash, filling it instead with things like medical supplies and snacks, since they didn’t know how long they’d be on the street searching.

Jeongguk grabbed the small blade he had swiped of some drunk gangster and put in his pocket for easy access, it never hurt being prepared, and the two set out to find their missing hyung, making sure to lock the apartment door behind him.

 

When Bambam regained consciousness he felt as if he had been hit by one of the large trucks that always rumbles by the apartment. His limbs were heavy and aching and his eyelids felt as if lead weights had been attached to them.

He could hear the blood rushing through his ears in time with the beating of his heart, wondering what had happened.
He was soooo tempted to just fall back into a deep slumber and sleep away the worries of the world, but then his mind was flooded with memories. They began to overwhelm him and he whimpered at the migraine that accompanied them.

“Hey, hey it’s okay, you’re safe,” an unknown voice said soothingly. “ Why don’t you try to open your eyes, alright?”

Bambam tried, but for some reason couldn’t, causing him to whimper again. It was some time of him attempting to whilst receiving gentle encouragement from the unknown speaker.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he managed to drag his eyes open. The sight he have met with shocked him for a minute, for he was faced with one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen.

I’m probably dead ‘cause there’s no way someone could be that beautiful outside of heaven.

The stranger laughed. “Well, I can most definitely assure you that you are very much alive, and I’m flattered that you think I’m beautiful since my boyfriend thinks so too.”

Bambam blushed, he hadn’t realized that he had been speaking out loud!

Somewhat mortified he quickly changed he subject.

“Where am I? What happened?” He asked, his voice sounding so foreign that it startled him.

“Wha…” he began before being rudely cut off by his dry throat letting out a series of painful coughs that felt like it was tearing apart.

Seconded later he felt something smooth and hard press to his lips and automatically opened his mouth, which was suddenly fill with the wonderful, refreshing taste of ice-cold water hat soothed his parched throat. He drank greedily and whined when the glass was removed.

“You have to slow down or you’ll choke,” the voice scolded. But moments later the glass was back and Bambam continued to drink, albeit slower then before since he didn’t want the stranger to take it away again.

After he finished it he opened his eyes again and tried to sit up, only to find he couldn’t.

“Why can’t I move, what’s going on?” His voice full of fear as he tried and failed to move his limbs, feeling as though gravity itself had turned against him.

“You should lay still, you’ve been asleep for three days since you passed out last time and you’re body might need some time to wake up.”

Three days… three days… three days… the voice echoed around his head repeating those two words, and it seemed like they were important, but he didn’t know why.

For several seconds he mulled over the phrase, wondering why his mind focused on them in particular when it suddenly hit him.

“Oh my God, Jeongguk and Yugyeom,” he cried and tried sitting up, the rush of adrenaline allowing him to force his previously uncooperative limbs to move as one.

“Hey, you can’t be moving, you had internal bleeding so you need to rest,” the stranger said, reaching up and pressing him down.

But with the Adrenalin aiding him Bambam threw their hands off of him and pushed them aside, quickly standing and trying to make his way to the double door he assumed would take him out of this place.

However, he only made it about two steps before he felt arms wrapping around his upper body, pressing his own against his chest, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“Please, I need to go home, the others don’t know what happened to me, they probably think I abandoned them!” He cried, struggling hard against the iron grip, but he was held fast.

After several seconds he could feel the strength leaving him almost as fast as it had first appeared and he slumped to the floor, the stranger carefully lowering him as he began to sob.

When the two of them were finally down the other released him and moved his arms around him in a lighter manner, embracing him a he cried.

“It’s okay, just let it out,” they said, and Bambam did. He didn’t stop for a while, not even when the doors burst open and several men entered the room, some white weapons drawn.

“Mark, what happened!?” A tall wheel built man in an expensive suit with blond hair said.

The stranger, now known to him as Mark, just shook his head, still trying to calm the young man, who was now hyperventilating in an alarming way, down.

Jimin stepped forward and knelt down in front of the others.

“Hi, I’m Jimin, we met the last time you were awake, do you remember?” He asked gently.

The crying man nodded.

“Okay, I need you to take deep breaths for me, in for four, out for eight, can you do that?”

He nodded and Jimin began counting and breathing with him.

After a few of these exercises his breathing returned to normal, but tears still poured down his face and Jimin could feel his heart breaking a little at the pure distress in the other’s eyes.

“Now you said your name was Bambam last time, is that right?” Bambam nodded.

“Do you know what happened?” Again, Bambam nodded in affirmation.
“Now, I’m sorry to ask this, but why were you crying?” Jimin asked the final question on his mind. Internally he suspected that Bambam was just horrified about what had nearly happened to him, but what actually came out of his mouth surprised him.

“I need to go home, they’re waiting for me,” Bambam said solemnly, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of a sweater he was wearing, but didn’t belong to him.

“Who’s waiting?” This time it was Mark who asked, gently moving himself around so he was in Bambam’s line of sight.

Bambam hesitated for a moment, trying to judge how much he could afford to tell, but decided that if they wanted to hurt him they would have by now.

“My brothers, they must be worried sick, what if they already ate all the food, what if something happened to them because I wasn’t there to protect them!?” He began crying again and this time it was Jimin who hugged him.

“Shh, I’m sure they’re fine…” he began but was cut off.

“No, they’re only fifteen, they can’t defend themselves, what if they got hurt? I would never forgive myself,” Bambam sobbed.

“What are they’re names?” This time the tall man in the suit was the one who spoke. Bambam looked up and realized that the other men who came in had left, save for the short one in street clothes and bleached hair, so it was just the five of them.

“Jeongguk and Yugyeom, they’re only fifteen, and we don’t live in a save area. They could get hurt,” he whispered.

“Suga,” the tall one said and the short one nodded with a grunt before leaving the room, closing the doors behind him.

“Don’t worry, if anyone can find them it’s Suga,” the man said, smiling kindly.

Bambam began crying again, honestly he was sick of crying, and thanked the man profusely, attempting a bow while not relinquishing his hold on Jimin.

“Nothing to thank me for, just make sure you get better,” Namjoon said before finally leaving the room as well.

“You said one was named Jeongguk?” Mark asked after a few moments of silence.

Bambam nodded.

“I think I my have run into him the night Jackson and I found you,” Mark stated, digging around for his phone.

Bambam was going to ask who Jackson was when Mar held up his phone t show him the number on the screen.

Bambam gasped at the familiar digits. “You saw Jeongguk? Where? When?” He began asking frantically.

“LikeI said, we ran into him the night we found you and B-Bomb,” Mark said and Bambam shivered as he heard the name. “It was near the Red Light District and he was looking for you, said he was determined to find out where you were.”

Bambam chuckled. “That sounds like Jeongguk, thinking that he needs to save me.”

“Out of curiosity though, what were you doing in that area of the city?”

Which that Bambam got quiet. “My landlord is about to evict us and I got fired from one of my jobs, we don’t have anywhere else to go and we need the shelter otherwise we’ll freeze when winter hits,” he said solemnly.

“Okay, you’re going to be living with me for a while,” Jimin said.

Bambam’s head shot up at that. “But-“ H began but was cut off with a waste of his hand.

“No buts, you and those boys will be living with me, my boyfriend and I have a house with plenty of room for guests, no arguments!” That last bit was added when Jimin saw Bambam opened his mouth again to protest.

“Just looking at you I can tell you haven’t eaten for a while, so how long?” This time Mark asked.

Bambam was silent for a long while before reluctantly answering. “I haven’t eaten a full meal in about three months,” he whispered so low the almost didn’t catch it.

Both their jaws dropped. “Three months?!” Jimin screeched, and Bambam jumped, curling away fro the other.

Jimin quickly started apologizing. “I’m sorry, but three months? How are you even still alive?”

“I always gave more to the boys, they’re only fifteen and still growing, they needed it more than I did,” Bambam muttered sadly.

“Well, then,” Mark said after another awkward silence. “Let’s find you some better clothes shall we, and then I need to check your injuries, gesturing to the others’ head and Bambam arched up, feeling the large bandage on his forehead and wincing. He could feel the stitches through the light material.

“You check his wounds, I’ll get the clothes and make arrangements for his stay.

Mark nodded and got to work and Jimin left the room quickly, pulling out his cellphone as he did.

All the while all Bambam could do was wonder why these people were being so kind, especially to someone like him. He wanted to ask, but for the time being decided to wait, their motives would become apparent soon enough.

 

 

It had been three days.

Three days since the twins had last seen Bambam.

At first it wasn’t so bad, but after day number two they were starting to worry. They had searched the entire first day and spent the second at the apartment waiting to see if he would eventually turn up, but now three days had passed and there was still now sign of him. Yugyeom had cried himself to sleep for the second night in a row and Jeongguk was more worried then ever.

It was normal for a da to pass without seeing him, but three? That never happened.

He always made sure to call if he was going to be gone for more then one day, and the twins had yet to receive even a text letting them know where he was.

At this point Jeongguk was fed up. It was only early evening so they still hade a few hours of light left to look. Before it became too dangerous to leave the apartment.

He got up and shook Yugyeom’s shoulder lightly to rouse the younger from his slumber.

“Gyeomie, we should head out, we’ve only got a few hours before nightfall left,” he said.

The younger nodded on got up, already dressed to go, having opted to sleep in his day cloths so they could move out in a hurry.

The two once again left the apartment and made their way into the streets. They searched every place he might be, both current and previous jobs included, covering a lot of ground rather quickly.

After two or so hours they had done a complete sweep of the downtown area and the outer regions… except for one area.

Since the day the met Bambam had given them only two rules to live by. Go to school and study hard, and never ever ever go into the Red light District.

The first was to make him proud, the second was to protect them. Jeongguk with never forget the day Bambam had come walking into the apartment with blood staining his left side from where he had been stabbed while being mugged.

He hadn’t made much money and the thugs were angry there wasn’t more so they attempted to kill him, he just barely escaped with his life, and Jeongguk had been forced to stitch him up with a needle and thread since they couldn’t afford a trip to the hospital.
But now that rule no longer applied.

When Bambam would go to “work” Jeongguk always tracked him to the forbidden district, and if he was anywhere it had to be there.

“We need to break Hyung’s second rule, Gyeomie,” he said solemnly.

The younger looked as if he was about to protest, but quickly bit back what he wanted to say because he knew the older was right. It was the only place they hadn’t looked, so they had no choice.

The first hour wasn’t so bad, just a lot of people standing around, minding their own business if you minded yours, the odd drunk stumbling around from bar to bar, and the local “Ladies of the Night” sending flirtatious glances their way before taking in their threadbare clothes and obvious young age before turning away in disgust, knowing there was no money to be had there.

It was during the second hour that the twins began to have the feeling that they were being watched. Jeongguk gripped the knife in his pocket so tight he was sure his knuckles had turned white at the moved along.

At one point he discretely managed to look behind them only to notice what looked lit a man quickly duck out of view.

“Hey, Gyeomie, let’s go this way,” he said, not alerting the other to the possible danger, instead attempting to steer him out of potential harms way.

Jeongguk moved Yugyeom so that the younger was in front oh him and thus in his line of sight. As the got deeper into the forbidden territory Jeongguk could no see more figures at different points in the street.

His heart same and he knew that this had been a mistake. He began moving faster, pushing the younger along with him.

“Hyung, what’s wrong?” He asked, feeling the tension in the atmosphere for the first time. Jeongguk didn’t reply, his entire focus on the figures around them that seemed to be moving closer.

They were almost to where a crowd had gathered so without warning Jeongguk grabbed his brother’s wrist and sprinted, this set off a chain reaction and the figures began running too.

"Jeongguk, what's happening?" Yugyeom said, terror filling his voice as he caught sight of the figures in pursuit.

"No time to explain, just run," Jeongguk shouted, the two doubling their pace.

They had almost made it to the safety that came with crowds when someone darted out from a nearby alley that Jeongguk hadn't noticed and body slammed him so hard that he lost his grip on Yugyeom.

He fought against whoever was holding him down, but having the wind knocked out of you made that extremely difficult.

"Well, well, well, aren't you a pretty one," he said, the evil and desire in his voice causing Jeongguk's skin to crawl in disgust at the implications.

"Jeongguk!" He turned his head at the scream and say Yugyeom trying to pull his wrist out of the hand of a rather large man which only earned him a slap to the face, causing him to cry out in pain.

At that Jeongguk's fury skyrocketed and he somehow managed to push that man on top of him far enough away to put a knee into his private area.

The man shouted in pain, drawing the attention of the one holding the younger, allowing Yugyeom to pull his arm free.

The man, realizing his prey was escaping lunged for him, Jeongguk jumped up and covered the ground between them, so fast he amazed even himself, before planting a fist in the larger man's jaw.

Not waiting around to see the damage Jeongguk once again grabbed Yugyeom's wrist and bolted.

He could hear the footsteps of several more people chasing them as they ran towards the crowd. They had almost made it when three more men stepped out of the large group of people, effectively baring their path of escape.

Without hesitation Jeongguk diverted his path down a side alley and made for the street on the other side, realizing too late that it was a trap.

They had nearly made it to the exit when a black can pulled up, blocking the way out, the side door opening to reveal three more men.

The twins came to a sudden halt, breathing heavily from all the running, Jeongguk moving to put Yugyeom behind him.

Mere seconds later he heard the rest of the men come up behind the, completely cutting off any way out.

He turned carefully and backed Yugyeom against the wall, still in front of him, so he he could watch both groups of men.

"You gave us quite the chase, most fun I have in weeks," the man Jeongguk had punched said, carefully pressing on the bruise that started forming on the side of his jaw.

"Unfortunately, this is where it ends, just come quietly and no one will get hurt," he said with a smile so evil that Jeongguk felt nauseous just looking at it

"No, we are not going with you, we just want to find our brother," he stated, attempt to sound brave, but the man must have heard the quiver in his voice because he just smiled wider.

"Well then, to bad for you, but you're coming with us anyway."

He gestured towards them and three of the thugs moved towards them.

Jeongguk held up his fists, but the men just laughed, making small lunges at him, never at the same time and completely random.

He kept the at Bay for about twenty seconds before he made a mistake. When one of them lunged a little closer than before he turned his attention to the one, letting the other two out of his sight for a split second.

He had just swung whwn he felt someone hit him from behind, dazing him just long enough to wrap him in a bear hug from behind.

He found as hard as he could but with out his arms he was defenseless. He heard rather than delt the first punch, causing stars to dance before his eyes.

Unfortunately I, after that first one he had recovered enough to feel the ones following.

In the back of his.kind he could hear Yugyeom screaming at them to leave him alone and let them go.

Eventually the punches stopped and he felt a hand jerk his head up by the hair.

"This is for earlier," then man said before unloading a single punch to Jeongguk's solar plexus, thenmad holding him let him go and he fell to the ground, both hands holding his stomach in agony.

Alright boys, time to get to new merchandise loaded up.

Jeongguk felt rough hands pull at his body harshly, dragging him towards to waiting van, he was so out of it he could barely hear Yugyeom's cries of distress and fear. Pleading with their captors to let them go.

They were about halfway to the van when what Jeongguk could only describe as thunder echoed around the alley.

Everyone went completely silent.

He could hear someone talking and an angry voice when the distinct sound of bodies connecting with the floor began. He was suddenly dropped and he cried out in pain as his injuries were jostled.

Looking up, his vision swimming badly,he could barely make put the sight of Yugyeom still in the hands of one one the thugs.

He reached out towards his twin and managed to croak out a weak "no" when his brother was thrown into the vehicle before the doors slammed shut it drove away.

Jeongguk attempted to get up and follow it but found that he could barely move, his vision swimming so bad he could barely see.

He tried to crawl when it was apparent that he wouldn't be able to walk and he felt a hand gently turn him over.

The pain was excruciating and he cried out, trying to fight off whoever was holding him down, his only thought was to get to Yugyeom and how it was all his fault he was gone.

He went completely limp at reality hit him and soon he was sobbing, the tears pouring down his face as he was overcome with despair, knowing that he would probably never see his beloved brother again.

He could vaguely hear see people talking when he was suddenly being lifted into a strong pair of arms, screaming as his injuries were jostled even more.

That was the final straw and Jeongguk could feel his consciousness completely abandon him as the blackness finally took over and he knew no more

 

Is seemed like ages before the van finally stopped. When it did Yugyeom could feel harsh hands drag him roughly out of the vehicle and into what sounded like a building of some kind, if the sound of doors was anything to go by.

The sack that had been placed over his head in the van was suddenly yanked off and he was dragged down a hallway lined with doors that all had padlocks on them.

He led by two men towards one down aways on the left side of the hall, one of the men producing a key to unlock the door before he was unceremoniously shoved inside.

He fell to his hands and knees and turned to look fearfully at the door as he hear the footsteps fade away.

He looked about the room and noticed that it only had one window with bars over it. It was cold and he shivered, pulling his ratty clothes more tightly around himself.

There was movement in one of the corners and Yugyeom shouted.in suprised and fear as whatever it was moved closer, sending him scrambling up against the wall to get away.

"She, it's alright, I'm not going to hurt you, I'm locked in here too."

The figure, now determined to be a young man, held up his hands in a placating manner.

"What's your name?" The man asked gently.

"Y-Yugyeom," he replied.

"Well, Yugyeom, my name is Jinyoung, and I think we are going to be roommates," the man, Jinyoung, said, a hint of humor in his voice to contradict the pain in his eyes.

"Welcome to the viper pit."

Chapter Text

Yugyeom had no idea how long he had been locked in here with Jinyoung.

Meals were brought but there was no way to judge the passing of time as they were not allowed anything of the sort.

At first the younger hadn’t been so trusting, thinking that Jinyoung was somehow a part of his kidnapping and separation from his brother. But, after some small talk, and the need for and elder’s comfort in this situation, Yugyeom slowly started to open up to his “roommate” about what had happened.

He found out that Jinyoung had been there for a little over two weeks, he had asked Yugyeom for the date and did the math, and that he had been a dancer at a night club called Magic Shop, where he had been stalked and was eventually snatched from his apartment in the middle of the night.

They had taken him at gun point and made sure to cover his head so he wouldn’t be able to tell where they were headed.

After what seemed like forever they had dragged him from the van and thrown him into this cell where he was left alone, safe for random meals, until they brought Yugyeom in.

Yugyeom then shared how he had been searching for his Hyung with his twin brother when they were ambushed in the Red Light district, he began crying as he told of the beatings that Jeongguk had endured while trying to protect him and how someone had managed to save him when Yugyeom himself was thrown into the van and taken away.

Jinyoung held onto the younger tightly, allowing him to cry until he eventually fell asleep from exhaustion.

The two stayed like that until Jinyoung heard the tell-tale rattle of a key being placed in the lock and the door opening. At first he wasn’t worried, the guards came at sporadic times throughout the day in a, somewhat successful, way to keep them from keeping track of the time.

Unfortunately, when the door opened, Jinyoung knew it was not going to be a normal day at all. Three guards came into the room, one stayed by the door and gestured to the two boys in the room. The sound of the door opening had startled Yugyeom from his much needed sleep, causing him to whimper in fear as one of the burly guards came right at them and forcefully ripped him out of the older boys arms.

This prompted a shriek of terror to slip past his lips as he attempted to struggle out of the iron grip and back to safety.

But the guard was having none of it. He backhanded Yugyeom across the face so hard that he saw stars, and, with him momentarily disabled, the guard pulled his hands forward before fastening them tightly with rope, pulling so tight that the pain snapped the boy from his daze and caused him to cry out in pain.

Jinyoung was handled even more roughly than Yugyeom because when the younger had been snatched from him he aimed a well placed punch into the man’s face before trying to rush to him. While he had ran at the guard handling Yugyeom he made the mistake of taking his eyes off the one he punched. He had only made it a few steps when he felt a hand grab him by the hair and he was pulled painfully backwards and onto the ground, head bouncing of the concrete floor. Yugyeom cried out when he saw the older fall and lay still and tried to move towards him again, but the guard grabbed him by the hair and proceeded to drag him by the hair out of the room and into the hallway, passing by the third man as he went.

The third man’s eyes bored into his own as if he were looking into his soul, absolutely cold, so cold, in fact, that Yugyeom could feel the cold tendrils of fear creeping into his chest, for the man’s eyes were dead.

The man spared no more than a second’s glance at the young boy before turning back to the guard handling the older one.

Said one now having finished tying the older boy’s hands behind him and picking him up to throw him over his shoulder before following the other two figures halfway down the hall, the smaller one barely able to keep up with the long stride of the taller.

After what seemed like forever, the three guards, “Dead Eyes” as Yugyeom had dubbed him, moving to lead the way down several long hallways before turning down a side corridor towards a large set of ornate double doors.

The doors opened as if the occupants had kept an eye out for people approaching and the group of five entered into what seemed like a lounge of some kind, the doors booming loudly, starling Yugyeom, as they closed again, leaving no chance for escape.

Inside the room were five chairs, four sat opposite each other, two on the left and two on the right, with a long wooden coffee table int between them, the fifth chair sat at the far end of the table and it was obvious that they were all VERY expensive.

Yugyeom was shoved harshly to his knees on the floor in front of the table and was quickly followed by a barely conscious Jinyoung being dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Yugyeom reached his bound hands up to steady the older and managed to balance him enough to place his head in his shoulder to make him more comfortable.

The two guards how hand dragged them there quickly exited through a side door the Yugyeom had not noticed before, while Dead Eyes staring at them a moment longer before following them.

It was merely moments later when five men walked into the room and took up each of the five chairs, five guards following them and taking up positions behind them.

Each man wore an outfit that had been definitely customized towards their own personal tastes.

The first man on the left was tall with chiseled features that made him seem like a trustworthy person, his hair having been styled so that it was slicked back with a part on the left side of his scalp, his suit pristine, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perched on his face.

The second man on the left wore much more casual attire, simply some black leather pants that showed off the sleekness of his legs and a matching leather jacket that had silver studs all around the collar and down the sleeves. His hair was blond and had been styled to come down and cover the right side of his face.

The third man and first on the right had the look of a business man. He was dressed very proper in a pinstriped, light gray suit that was even more expensive looking than Glasses’ , with a silver chain holding the two edges of the suit jacket together in place of buttons. His hair had been combed back, but not in the slick manner of the first man’s.

The fourth man and second on the right was the most casual out of all of them, it was like he had simply gotten up this morning and just threw on the leather jacket he was wearing because that was literally all he was wearing. A thick silver chain hung from his neck and was accentuated by the sliver earrings all up and down his ears, three on the left and four on the right. His hair was shaved close to either side of his head leaving a mohawk long enough to comb back, the roots black but the longer portion white blonde. The jeans he was wearing were so shredded that Yugyeom was surprised they hadn’t completely fallen apart yet.

The fifth and final man to enter the room took up the sat empty seat at the end of the table. His suit looked to completely be made of red silk with black accents and a black sash to keep the top shirt closed. His hair was orange with black roots and styled with his bangs swept to the side to fall lightly over the right side of his face.

This entire instance taking Yugyeom only a second to complete, leaving him more terrified than he had ever been in his life, for he sensed that nothing good was to come of these men in regards to himself and Jinyoung, who was now looking more alert and sitting up on his own.

The five men just stared at the duo for several minutes before Orange Hair spoke.

“Taeyang, why is it every time we receive new merchandise it is always damaged?” He asked, frustration lacing his voice as he leaned back into the expensive leather of the chair, one leg crossing over the other.

Yugyeom knew they were referring to the bruise most certainly forming on his face from the backhand the guard had given him earlier and the obvious split lip from when he had hit his mouth when being tossed into the van.

“Did they perhaps not learn the lesson from last time?” The white haired man, Taeyang, replying to the question with another question that was obviously not really a question but rather a statement.

The business looking man stood up and approached the boys, grabbing Yugyeom’s face with a firm, but not painful, grip, turning his head from one side to the other, inspecting the damage.

“What do you think, Seungri?” Orange Hair asked, addressing the man holding Yugyeom’s face.

“I don’t think there will be any lasting damage, but it might take a while for the bruising to fully disappear,” he hummed, releasing the boy’s face and moving back to his seat.

“This isn’t the first time this has happened though, and I thought our last warning had been pretty clear,” Glasses’ said, seemingly bored with the whole situation.

“Very well,” Orange Hair said, standing and making his way over to the two still kneeling on the ground. “We will deal with them after this.”

He waved his hand and two more guards appeared out of nowhere, hauling the two boys to their feet before stepping back.

Orange Hair set about poking and prodding the two, opening their mouths to check their teeth, feeling up and down their bodies to see how firm they felt, and touching Yugyeom in ways that made him feel dirty and used, making him want nothing more than to take a scrubber to his soiled skin to remove the feeling.

Jinyoung, on the other hand, was used to this kind of treatment. Being a dancer had desensitized him to a lot of things, and inappropriate touching was one of them, though, people usually payed him for the right to do so.

Knowing there was nothing he could do to spare the younger the discomfort and humiliation he settled for simply glaring at the man in front of them, who only smirked at the anger rolling of him.

“Ah, you have spirit, that’s good, it’ll keep things interesting,” he laughed, finally moving away from the two and back to his seat.

“I’m sure you two are wondering why you are here,” he said, taking up a regal pose as he addressed them.

“It’s simple really, you are now a part of my little “operation “, so congratulations, you will never be leaving,” he laughed again at the look of horror on the younger of the two faces in front of him.

“I am Kwon Jiyong, also known as GDragon, the leader of BigBang, you, of course, with know me only as Master or Sir.”

“From now on you belong to me and my associates, your lives are in my hands, and I will not hesitate to enact swift and harsh punishment if you ever attempt to leave or try to resist.”

He paused for effect, not at all disturbed b the tears rolling down the younger’s cheeks and the barely audible whimpering nor the obvious rage and hatred being directed at him by the older one.

“Everything you do or say, if not approved of, will be met with punishment, you will be given rules and I expect every single one to be followed without question.”

GDragon waved his hand again and a much nicer looking young man wearing a rich set of luxury clothes walked into the room, wearing tight leather pants and an extremely sheer cream colored top, the outfit itself leaving nothing to the imagination, hair carefully styled in a way that framed his face attractively, and light makeup accentuating his features.

“Youngjae, take care of these two and show them the ropes, make sure they understand the rules clearly,” he said and the man, Youngjae, bowed deeply.

“Yes, Master, it shall be done,” Youngjae said, his voice not allowing for a hint of emotion to show through, he gestured to the guards who grabbed both boys and moved them forcefully towards the side door when they were suddenly told to stop.

The three turned and GDragon clapped his hands.

Suddenly the huge double doors opened and two men were dragged in and forcefully pushed down to their knees, Dead Eyes following behind them.

“These are the two guards?” GDragon asked and Dead Eyes nodded, moving to stand by the boss.

The guards looked up at their boss fearfully as he stared down at them without an ounce of sympathy, his palm outstretched.

Dead Eyes reached into his jacket pulling out a gun, and placing it in said hand.

GDragon inspected the gun with practiced ease and he deliberately paced in front of the two.

“A little birds told me that you damaged the merchandise, now why on earth did you ever think that such a thing was such a good idea?” He demanded, leaning in and placing the gun against the forehead of the first.

“S-sir, they wouldn’t cooper-rate with us,” the man tried to plea, but was cut off by a bullet lodging itself dead center of his forehead, the body falling backwards with a thud.

“Wrong answer, my rule is you NEVER touch the merchandise, no matter what, they need to be in pristine condition before they can work,” he said, moving the gun and pointing it at the second man.

“P-please, S-sir, I didn’t m-mean it,” the second man cried, tears falling down his face after witnessing the death of his colleague, and knowing that he was next.

“It won’t happen again!” He shouted, leaning forward in an awkward attempt to bow properly with his arms restrained behind him.

The Crime Lord simply looked at the pathetic mess of a man before him, slowly making his way behind him.

“Oh, I believe you, it will most certainly not happen again…” GDragon began, moving back in front again.

The man looked up with what seemed like hope and GDragon didn’t hesitate to put a bullet in between his eyes too.

“… because I never give second chances,” He finished, tossing the now smoking gun back to it’s owner and turning to the three by the door.

“This is a warning of what will happen if you ever try to leave or disobey me, I never give second chances.”

Yugyeom stared in horror at the sight before him and felt strangely numb, almost as if he hadn’t even seen two men just get murmured before his eyes.

He was still in a daze as they were hustled through the door, down another stretch of hallways, and eventually into the back of another van.

Jinyoung new the younger was in shock and did his best to comfort him, all the while glaring at the guards and man in the back with them.

“Where are you taking us?” He demanded.

The man, he had to admit, was extremely attractive, but he was too angry to care about that at the moment.

“You have been assigned to BigBang’s club Flower Road,” the man, Youngjae, said, in a monotone voice.

“What is going to happen to us?” This time it was Yugyeom who asked, his still bound hands gripping tightly onto Jinyoung’s.

“You are the latest addition’s to Master’s stock,” Youngjae said, clearly not being very helpful.

“What?” Yugyeom asked again, his clearly innocent mind not understanding what Youngjae was implying.

“What he means is that we are the man’s latest whores,” Jinyoung snapped angrily, causing the guards to tense up in preparation for an attack.

“For lack of a better term, yes, I’m guessing you’ve never had a boyfriend, correct?” The last part directed at the younger.

Yugyeom shook his head and Jinyoung cursed, the boy was only fifteen! He shouldn’t have to go through this, apparently Youngjae agreed as well because a look of sadness came over his face, revealing the years of pain and endurance in his dark brown eyes.

“Well then, you are in for a long painful ride,” he finally said, several long moments later.

Yugyeom whimpered and pressed himself into Jinyoung’s side, wishing with all his heart that he and Jeongguk had never gone into the forbidden district, and wishing that he was back with his Hyungs in their shitty apartment with their shitty landlord.

It was in those with those little sounds leaving the younger’s lips that Jinyoung promised himself that he would protect Yugyeom from what may come, no matter the cost, he would someday, somehow, get him out of this situation.

He solemnly swore this.

Nothing would stop him from getting the Yugyeom back home.