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They meet on a Wednesday night. In the middle of a dingy alley way caught between a tiny bar and a family run restaurant in Seoul.

Jimin stumbles upon a murder during his walk, curiosity leading him down a deserted path by painful noises. The killer is still present at the scene of the crime. He stands over his victim with a rusted pocket knife, his knuckles white, his breaths leaving his red lips in laboured pants.

Jimin's gaze trains down to the body, the figure already lifeless and bloody, like a sleeping painter resting after he has poured his all onto the concrete beneath his cold flesh.

Sensing another presence, the killer's face whips up, his doe eyes wide and manic. His rich brown hair is matted to his damp forehead, and his chest heaves from adrenaline. In an instant, Jimin is caught. Drawn in. The kid doesn't look any younger than he is - handsome, lean, and tall, but fucked up to hell. He takes a glance at the body once more, and purses his lips. The stabbing doesn't appear like an accident. The many other slices and cuts on the victim had been placed too purposefully and Jimin isn’t pleased by the haphazard way this young man has handled it.

“You did it wrong. This is just messy,” Jimin tells him, watching the younger man startle at his sweet, calm tone. He’s clearly taken aback that Jimin is criticizing his work rather than running away in hysterics. “You have to be more gentle. Make every slice count. You have to make them look pretty or else, what’s the point?”

Jungkook is speechless. This had been his first kill. The bastard had been lurking around his college campus for months now, luring young women and young freshman away. His beady eyes always hungry, making Jungkook itch to drive a knife cleanly through them. When he’d gone through a particularly difficult day, his stress levels reaching their peak, Jungkook had followed the man. Followed him around for hours, watching as he leered and yipped at young high school girls. He had called it justice when he cornered the man in a deserted alley, thrusting his old pocket knife he used in his art classes into the creep’s stomach. He could’ve ended it with the first stab, could’ve walked away and let him die from whatever disease he would get from the rust, but he stayed. He stayed and he continued to slice and stab. He hasn't felt this alive in a long time.

“Here. Let me show you,” Jimin steps closer, slow, but assuredly.

Jungkook is still. He doesn't dare blink, but his hands are shaking, but he doesn't know if that's due to the adrenaline or the anticipation. The man is...enchanting, for a lack of a better word. He's never seen someone this beautiful. So lost in that beauty, Jungkook almost flinches when he's touched. Carefully taking his wrist, the shorter man guides his knife yielding hand towards the corpse, and makes a delicate slice over the bastard’s pale cheek. It’s nothing special, just a simple cut but the look in other's eyes is what enthralls Jungkook the most. The man seems positively in pleasure. A gorgeous smile stretching across his equally stunning features, his eyes lighting up in a way Jungkook has never dared to allow himself to show on his own.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? Your first kill?” he sighs and Jungkook nearly shivers out of his skin. Just watching the man stare at the light trickle of blood was enough to make his cock twitch. “You should go. I’ll handle this,” he shoos Jungkook away with a knowing smile, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to clean up Jungkook’s mess.

Jungkook regrets ever leaving. He regrets never finding out the man's name, his number, anything to give him some sort of connection to him. He wishes he hadn't listened. 


Jungkook doesn’t see the mystery man again for another two months. The police have made no report about the creep he had murdered. There was no news, and no one has come to his apartment demanding answers. Jungkook feels wrong that he suffers no remorse for what he did. Another scum taken away from their world wouldn’t make much difference. He had done a good service. He’s taken away a threat, and he lets that comfort him as he falls asleep each night.

Mystery man appears suddenly in the middle of the night. Nostalgia rolling through him at the reminder of their first meeting. This time, his hair is black, and not the soft orange that he’s been dreaming of for the past few months. He has a large bag with him, dragging on the floor and Jungkook has no time to question how he found him before the other is pushing his way through into the apartment, grinning all the while.

“I brought you a present!” the man chirps, brazenly reaching out to caress Jungkook’s sharp jaw, licking his lips slightly in anticipation.

“What is it?” Jungkook asks, his skin buzzing under the raven's touch and he doesn’t resist leaning into his hand. Jungkook's dark eyes blow up wide as he comes closer, his body heat seeping through his clothes enough to warm Jungkook to the core, causing him to shiver. It's so good to have the real thing here. Though he doesn't know his name, he knows that he wants the man to stay forever.

“Why don’t you open the bag, baby? Careful though, okay? He’s a kicker,” he smiles and steps aside to allow Jungkook to retrieve his ‘present’.

The present is in the form of a tall, attractive, business man. Tied from his wrists to his ankles, the man thrashes and yells around his gag, livid that such a short, seemingly weak man had gotten to him so easily.

“Since your first kill was so messy, I thought maybe you’d like to take your time with this one.” The other comes up behind Jungkook, wraps his arms around his chest and nuzzles into his back. His palms nearly leave a permanent brand, his warmth, even above his shirt, can make Jungkook melt. It’s strangely intimate, but Jungkook finds that he welcomes it. “What do you say, baby? Want me to teach you how to make him look more beautiful?”


It's a poisonous situation they have going on.

He learns Jimin’s name the morning after, their victim thoroughly slashed and exhausted, but alive. Jimin is an elegant killer, he’s sweet and careful and he makes every slice feel like a living hell. Jungkook learns from him, watches him, moans out with him when Jimin’s eyes flutter in satisfaction at the agonized muffled screams he receives with every glide of Jungkook’s kitchen knife.

It’s messed up.

It’s sick and toxic and damning. Yet…it’s the most beautiful thing when the older man kills. Jimin would always turn back to him, smiling giddily each time he notices that Jungkook is trying to hide his hard-on. The victim is too out of it to notice the tension between his two kidnappers.

“So, how was it?” Jimin asks him when they close the bathroom door, the victim tied to a chair in the middle of the room now silent and unconscious.

“That was…” Jungkook breathes, unable to conjure up any words to describe the exhilaration he feels.

Jimin watches him carefully, smugly.

“That was amazing,” he finally says, all too aware of the smaller man approaching him.

Jimin’s steps are deliberately heavy so that Jungkook is hyper-aware of how close he’s getting. And he realises it’s a tactic, Jimin isn’t the hit and run type of killer, he likes to play. He likes to tease, and seduce, and make art. He’s the most fascinating man Jungkook has ever met and he’d be damned if he loses him.


They make love for the first time a few weeks later. Jungkook’s second kill had been disposed of long ago, and Jimin would always bring another back to replace the previous ones. The night they kissed, it was in front of a pretty blonde girl, her ankles and wrists rubbed raw from wiggling in her restraints, situated in Jungkook’s bathroom like all the other victims. She watches with horrified eyes as something clicks within the duo. Jungkook didn’t know what it was that had changed. Maybe it was that the girl had thought she was coming home with Jimin so he could fuck her, or maybe it was the way Jimin has been looking at him all night. All excited and giddy, his beautiful eyes shining more than usual when he struck up a conversation with the victim at the bar in some obscure club. Jungkook was there with him, observing silently, seething when Jimin allowed her to touch him, to whisper in his ear. But he still learns. He picks out all the little moves Jimin carries out and he stores them away for when it’s his turn to seduce.

It takes just one look. One simple glance and Jungkook was on him, kissing him, licking into his mouth hungrily. Jungkook does his best to keep his knees from giving out when Jimin responds with a soft needy mewl, his small hands coming to fist at Jungkook’s shirt, pulling him closer till they're flushed together, clothed cocks brushing and grinding for friction. They close the bathroom door and stumble to the bed, as messed up as they both were, they silently agreed that they wanted to make their first time special.

Which it is. Jungkook takes his time fucking into Jimin, slowly, tortuously as Jimin rocks with him, loving the soft groans and grunts he gets from Jungkook. Jimin lets the younger man take his time, combing his fingers through his hair as he rides him, Jungkook’s hands delicate on his waist whilst Jimin’s fucks himself down on his cock, moaning sweetly. The night sky lightens to day and they’re both tired, though their victim not forgotten.


Jungkook doesn’t attend his classes anymore.

He spends all his time with Jimin instead. He uses the expensive paint he bought for his projects on Jimin. He spends hours of the day painting scenery onto his back, on his arms, on his chest. And he kisses him slowly afterwards, lovingly, adoringly until it heats up and they're fucking with paint smeared all over their bodies. And it’s inevitable when he’s told he has to leave his apartment unless he pays his rent. Jimin makes the decision for him by telling him that they should travel. Jungkook doesn’t question why Jimin has so much money to spare, why he’s always able to pay for whatever he wants, that's for another day. He just goes along with it. He lets himself sink deeper into Jimin, into his obsession; their nights filling with tender kisses and sharp knives. 


Jimin says ‘I love you’ for the first time on the night they reach Busan. Jungkook readily says it back, says the words breathlessly, murmurs it into his skin, bites it into his neck, and fucks it into him for hours. Jimin has trouble walking that next day, but it doesn’t stop him from luring another victim back to their hotel room.

Jungkook is already there, waiting, inviting. And they fall into a pattern. Eat, fuck, sleep, kill, eat, fuck, sleep, kill.

Their styles of torture become more prominently different as time goes by. Jimin is precise, he’s charming to his victims, but no less cruel. Jimin has more experience than Jungkook - has years and years to kill, to map out all the right places to slice. Jimin knows how to keep his victims alive long enough for them to taste their own life slipping away. He’s thorough when he cleans after himself. He doesn’t leave a spot behind, he never gets caught, he never leaves any traces of himself behind.

Jungkook is a different case. He’s brutal, and messy, and he likes it that way. Jimin would always shake his head fondly at him, but never asks him to change. It’s endearing the way Jungkook is so merciless and Jimin finds himself sitting in on his killings more and more. He likes to admire how Jungkook’s arms and back flex under his thin white shirts whenever he moves. His hands, his chest, and face always splattered with red, and Jimin would often have to clean him up. His victims don’t survive the first hour, but Jungkook doesn’t mind.


The first time they fuck in front of someone, it was Jungkook’s night. They take turns, as any good couple would, and Jimin sits on the edge of the bathtub in their latest cheap hotel room. Jungkook was doing something different that night. Says he wants to give Jimin’s method a try. He doesn’t succeed and manages to nearly kill the man before Jimin had to step in. Reminiscent to Jungkook’s first kill, Jimin guides his hands along. He stands between the seated victim and his boyfriend, his back pressing to the younger’s chest, Jungkook kissing and licking at his neck as Jimin holds his hand with the knife and makes thin cuts. Jimin giggles when he feels Jungkook grind his hardening cock against him, dropping the knife immediately to spin around to kiss the other.

Jungkook makes sure that the victim is awake when he tears off Jimin’s clothes and shoves his jeans down. It’s rough and fast and Jimin encourages him to go deeper. He watches the man in the chair tremble and close his eyes and Jimin just smirks and hugs Jungkook close. He whispers to him, praising him, telling him just how good he was, how amazing Jungkook was making him feel, and the younger man eats it up. He loves it. He loves hearing praise from Jimin, loves hearing how well he was doing, how well he was loving him, how Jimin was never going to leave him. And they both come undone soon after, Jimin kissing the words ‘I love you’ into his lips.


Jimin likes certain types when he goes out. Tall men. Attractive men. Those who were more masculine than he was. He hates his own short stature, so he makes up for it by being just a bit more vicious with the types he resents. He likes cutting them down a peg. He likes cutting them down, period. Jungkook also loves it. Loves seeing him go wild, his slices less elegant, less controlled. His handsome, delicate features contorting in hate and passion, and Jungkook drinks him in.

Some nights Jungkook has to hold his boyfriend through the tremors, and lets him cry on his shoulder, lets him bite and scratch and wail. Jimin asks him if he thinks he's a bad person and Jungkook answers yes. Yes, they are bad people. They are terrible, sadistic people. It was who they were and there was no redeeming them. Jimin takes it, accepts it, and slumps back into Jungkook’s embrace and smiles against his skin. They’re bad people, but they're bad together.

Jungkook slips a ring onto Jimin’s finger one morning. Not night, not evening, but one morning. They’re sat at a small café in Daegu when Jungkook picks up his boyfriend’s hand and slides the plain gold band onto his ring finger, having his own already in place. Jimin laughs breathlessly and asks what he was doing, it wasn't possible for them to get married given their profession.

Jungkook merely smiles and kisses the back of his hand discreetly.

He says, “I just want you to know that you’re mine. That you’ll always have a home to come back to.”

“Are you my home, Jungkookie?” Jimin giggles softly through the tears because he doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve such kindness, such tenderness, and love. He’s tainted, dirty, filthy, he doesn’t get to have a happy ending. He doesn’t get to have Jungkook to himself because the younger man is too kind. Even when he kills, he allows his victims a swift death. Jungkook shouldn’t be here with him. He should still be in college, enjoying his youth. However, Jimin can’t bring himself to let go. And that’s the biggest crime he’s probably ever committed. He sinks his claws into Jungkook and cages his heart in his hands because…this is the closest thing he’s ever come to having a home.

“I’ll always be your home, Jimin-hyung. I’ll go wherever you go.”

Chapter Text

They stay in Daegu for a couple of more nights. Jungkook doesn't ask why, he never does. He trusts Jimin to know when to keep them moving.

They're switching turns again tonight. Each person getting their fix one at a time. Jungkook's latest prey is once again bound and gagged to a chair. Jimin sits on the edge of the bathroom counter in a new cheap motel room, merely observing. Jungkook says that he wants to make another attempt at Jimin’s method again since the last time he tried, they both ended up doing something else.

"It looks like fun. Your work is always so beautiful, hyung..."

Once again, he is unsuccessful, of course, and manages to nearly kill the man faster than Jimin can step in.

"Here. Let me." Jimin takes the knife from him, Jungkook watching his every move.

They take on familiar positions, Jimin standing between the seated victim and Jungkook, his back flushed to the younger’s chest, Jungkook mouthing and licking at his neck as Jimin guides his hand with the knife and makes thin cuts into the tanned, red stained flesh. It was evident that for the second time, Jungkook wasn’t paying any attention. He's too occupied with being the distraction - his warm lips and sharp teeth grazing teasingly over Jimin's already bruised skin. Always leaving marks; Jungkook likes to leave marks, loves to bite and bruise, and suck reds and purples into Jimin's skin. His little habit is fuelled by how Jimin doesn't stop him. In fact, the older man encourages him, places his hand to the back of his head, weaves his fingers through his soft dark locks and bares his throat for him. Jimin would've done the same now, but they have a victim to tend to.

Often, Jimin leaves his boyfriend to kill on his own, however, these past couple of days Jimin feels fascinated by Jungkook’s growing brutality. He loves watching the younger man grow, his innocence draining away with each drop of blood he spills.

Though he does mourn the loss of one or two perfectly healthy kidneys or livers whenever his boyfriend just didn't like the look on their victim's face. To think how much they could've sold all of those organs for if Jungkook would just be a little more attentive towards his victims, it makes Jimin mourn even more.

“You’re not paying attention,” he comments, amusement clear in his tone.

Jungkook hums softly. “I don’t have enough patience to do it your way. Just kill the bastard. Get it over with.”

Jimin giggles when he feels Jungkook grinding his hardening cock against him through his jeans. Jungkook has gotten bolder these days, less afraid of showing such displays of affection in front of their captures. After that first time, Jimin wonders if he is just a little bit into exhibitionism. Not that he can talk, he’s made a few attempts of his own to try and get Jungkook to fuck him again whilst one of their victims were in the room. Though Jimin was a killer, a cruel, sadistic man, he was never going to force Jungkook into anything that he wasn’t completely comfortable with, so he drops the subject whenever Jungkook pulls away in discomfort. But this time, Jungkook seems as though he has no desire to shy away from Jimin’s touch.

“We should keep him alive until morning,” Jimin tsks. “What’s the fun of killing him right away?”

Jimin stares down at the pathetic form tied to one of the hotel’s uncomfortable wooden chairs, his limbs perfectly stiff. His head hangs low, his chin brushing the top of his chest as his hair sweeps damply over his forehead. His once attractive pinstriped suit was torn in places, his shirt and jacket sliced open to reveal a strong chest and stomach littered with fresh cuts. He was a handsome young man from what Jimin remembers at the bar, but the second he’d opened his mouth, he’d been perfectly…homophobic. One word from him and Jimin had wanted to stab the wooden stick that had come with his olive and martini right into his neck.

Perhaps that was why Jimin was encouraging Jungkook to keep touching. Their little victim was the exact type of person that Jimin would love to parade his gay ass around in front of. What could be hotter than making the man watch Jungkook fuck him into oblivion?

“You always like to play around too much,” Jungkook sighs into the nape of his neck, his grip on Jimin’s hips tightening so he can grind even harder against the curve of his ass.

“Killing isn’t fun without a few games,” Jimin breathes. His eyes slide shut as he ruts back, swirling his hips to get a groan from Jungkook. “C’mon, baby. You know how happy it makes me to see them beg the morning after. Let’s keep him alive.”

He hears Jungkook sigh again, already knowing that the younger would give him the whole world if he wanted it. Jimin was a spoiled, spoiled man.

“You just want me to fuck you in front of him, don’t you?” Jungkook snickers quietly, his hands rubbing up and down Jimin’s sides. “That what you want, baby? Want me to fuck you real hard and fast? Are you gonna put a show on for our guest?”

“Mm…” Jimin arches his back slightly, his head falling back onto Jungkook’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t it be nice?” Jimin drops the knife from his grasp and twists around to crash their lips together.

There’s only tongue and teeth, Jungkook biting down on his lips so hard he can taste his own blood on his tongue. Adding to his tendency to bite, Jungkook always likes to nip and draw blood and Jimin always allows him to. He likes a small taste of himself in Jungkook’s mouth.

The younger man makes sure that the victim is awake and watching again, as he'd done so the last time, before he takes off Jimin’s shirt and shoves his jeans down, the older now left in only his boxers. He then places Jimin back on top of the bathroom counter and stands between his legs, shoving each knee apart harshly.

“Ooh…rough today,” Jimin giggles again. “Is this because he’s watching?”

Jungkook smirks and turns his head and captures Jimin's lips with his own again, the kiss searing enough to leave the older whining. With a small tug of his hips, Jungkook has Jimin on the very edge of the counter, his tented jeans meeting his clothed cock.

“I don’t think he’s ever seen a man like you before. So pretty and needy,” he mutters against Jimin’s swollen lips, sliding his tongue over the other’s. “Poor man probably just wanted to put his cock in something tonight. Guess he thought he’d give you a try. That’s why he came here so willingly, right? Even though he hates people like us so much,” Jungkook pouts mockingly. “Unfortunately for him, it won’t ever be you. You’re mine,” he growls out those last words. For emphasis, he begins to grind his crotch up against Jimin’s hardening cock, causing Jimin's mouth to drop open.

“F-Fuck…yes…I’m all yours, Jungkook. I’m yours,” Jimin moans, tugging him closer.

Glancing back, Jungkook finds the man still conscious and aware. As their eyes meet, Jungkook's lips curl into a cruel smile. He makes sure to drag his cock extra slowly over Jimin just to hear him moan, a wave of satisfaction rolling through his stomach at the sight of the man's eyes widening. He was obviously very disturbed by what they were doing, how they were both so unabashedly shameless. Jungkook knows now why Jimin's picked such a man for the night. He was exactly the kind of person Jungkook would find curling his nose at anyone that looked remotely gay. That thought alone was enough to fuel his need to fuck Jimin as hard and relentlessly as possible.

“Jungkook…are you gonna make me cum like this? We don’t have all night,” Jimin groans.

Jimin was right on the edge of the counter, his head tipping back against the mirrors behind him as the younger keeps his hips in place so that he wouldn’t slide off the surface entirely.

Jungkook hesitates for a split second before he nods, his unwavering gaze on Jimin’s beautiful features contorting in pleasure. “So impatient. Want my cock that bad, baby? Such a little whore for my cock, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes…yes…Please…Kookie…” The elder’s cheeks burn red and his breath comes out in short bursts at just the thought of having Jungkook fuck him till he can feel his cum slide out of his abused hole, leaving him loose. The filth spilling from Jungkook's lips was only adding to the tension.

“Shh…baby, it’s okay. I’ll fuck you nice and good, you just need to wait,” Jungkook coos gently as he tugs Jimin’s boxers down and drops them to the floor. “Hard already. Is this because of me or because you’re being watched?"

Jimin snickers softly. “It’s because of you, baby. Of course, because of you.”

“I don’t think I believe you,” Jungkook narrows his eyes playfully, gripping the base of Jimin’s cock and pumps once, twice, then a third time before closing his fingers around the head, squeezing a few beads of pre-cum out from the tip.

Jimin mewls and bucks his hips up in need. “D-Don’t tease. Don’t tease me, you brat,” he growls in warning, his eyes snapping over to Jungkook dangerously.

The younger merely grins mischievously, leaning forward to kiss the corner of Jimin’s mouth. “That’s like asking me not to love you.”

Jimin’s eyes blow up wide, brown depths disappearing, consumed by the black of his pupils, his hips canting upwards against Jungkook’s hand. He's oozing precum sloppily, the pearly liquid dribbling down the side of his pretty little cock. God, everything was just stunning on Jimin. Jungkook has never seen someone so gorgeous; so wonderful, so amazing. He loves him so much, so much that the feeling claws at his insides. There's an incessant itch in his bones, rooted so deep he wants to scoop everything out, present himself bare to Jimin. He wants to give him everything.

“You’re testing me,” Jimin all but whines.

“It wouldn’t be a normal day if I wasn’t testing you, hyung. We have an audience, you know. Shouldn’t you be behaving?” Jungkook scoffs, his hand making a fist around the other’s cock, moving faster and faster. His other hand is all over Jimin, roaming, feeling every plane of muscle and flawless skin. It feels like a claim, like Jungkook wants to mar every inch of Jimin, make it so that no one could touch him without seeing the presence Jungkook has left behind on his body.

“M-Mm…Nngh… P-Please…I need your cock inside me. I-I want it so bad, baby. Please… Fuck me. Jungkook, fuck me already…” he pleads, chest heaving.

“And you say I’m teasing?” Jungkook shakes his head at the crudeness of Jimin’s words.

He leans over again and traps Jimin’s lower lip between his teeth and gently tugs, eliciting a weak groan from them both. “How many fingers this time, hyung? Do you think you could handle four of my fingers? Could I make you cum with just them?” Jungkook swipes his thumb over the head of Jimin’s dripping cock, smearing the precum over the head, making it slippery and wet. His free hand trails down further between Jimin’s legs at the same time, dancing his fingers down tantalizingly towards Jimin’s pink little hole.

“H-Here…” Jimin reaches behind him and retrieves the spare bottle of lube they have sitting by the sink. He shakily lifts his legs up into the air and holds them there, baring himself completely.

Jungkook squirts a glob of the lube into his palm, and spreads it over Jimin with a few quick swipes of his hand. The older man stutters at the coldness, but doesn't complain.

“Are you still tight from before?…” he wonders aloud, grinning at Jimin’s frustrated expression.

If Jungkook was a better man, he would give Jimin what he was asking for. However, for the time being, -or at any time in his life from now on-, he wasn’t a better man. He was selfish and hungry for every little moan, gasp, and plead that Jimin was offering him. More, he wants more. So much more, but not yet. He can wait, he still has some self-control that he needs to expend.

He's going to bring Jimin to the very edge, the very tipping point, so that when he did finally thrust into him, he would see stars, and fireworks, and whatever else that Jungkook could make him imagine from just one simple act. If he can deny him the one thing that he truly needs, he can make it so much better for Jimin in the end. He didn’t want to be known as a blank face if Jimin ever forgets him. He hopes that if they are ever apart, the older man would remember his touch, his kisses, his eyes, and his words. Remember how Jungkook's fingers would burn into his skin long after they part. He wants Jimin to beg for him even when he isn't there; to recall how much Jungkook cherishes him. No matter how possessive it sounds, he wants Jimin to never want anyone the same way as he did Jungkook.

They’ve been in this together for too long. Two sick little boys, playing their little games. Jungkook didn’t even want to hear another man’s name leave Jimin’s gorgeous plump lips. If he can prevent Jimin from leaving him, if he can prevent him from losing interest, Jungkook would give all of himself away. He has put his life on the line for Jimin. He’s already killed for him, already maimed and tortured for him. He will do everything he can to keep Jimin’s interest. Everything, even if that means showing him exactly who he belongs to - whose cock it was that shapes his insides to the point that he wouldn’t be able to take anyone else and be satisfied.

Only Jungkook. It can only be Jungkook.

"You’re so beautiful, Jimin-hyung. Do you know that?” Jungkook licks his parched lips. The finger that has been teasing Jimin’s hole, slippery and slick with lube, enters tortuously slow. “Ever since I saw you in that alley way,” he pauses to give one long stroke to Jimin’s cock with his other hand. “You were the most stunning person… I had ever seen.” His finger wiggles and curls within the tight, warm space, making Jimin’s mouth fall open in a silent moan. “I thought about you all the time after that, about how I would fuck you, love you. How you would beg for me to touch you... and to see you here, now. It’s amazing to me,” he grins wide, cheeks bunching, showing bunny teeth and darkened, lustful, eyes.

Jimin releases a pathetic whimpering noise at the back of his throat, his legs shaking from his dwindling energy to keep them up.

“If I’d known that you’d react this way when you’re being watched, I would’ve let this happen a long time ago.” Jungkook takes one step to the side so that he wasn’t blocking their victims view of what was happening. He glances over his shoulder in smugness upon seeing their captive’s eyes widen again. The man attempts to close them, tries to look away, and well, that was unacceptable.

“Hey!” Jungkook snaps at the man, causing him to jump in fright. “Keep your fucking eyes open. I didn’t tell you to look away.”

Once he was watching, Jungkook pulls his finger out slightly from Jimin’s twitching hole, then slams it back in. Jimin’s back arches, his whole-body shivering as the tip of Jungkook’s finger easily finds his prostate. “Doesn’t he look fucking amazing?” he asks their victim. “Look at him, getting off on being watched. What a dirty little whore you are, hyung.”

“Y-Yes…” Jimin moans, one hand coming to clutch onto Jungkook’s wrist to encourage him to keep going.

Not long after, one finger turns into two, stretching Jimin open slowly. He was tight, but he’s easily loosened due to their earlier round. Jungkook wouldn't be surprised if he was ready all the time, given how Jimin's hunger for his cock is insatiable.

“You’re so eager to take me in, you’re so good,” Jungkook growls. He watches Jimin’s every movement with attentive eyes, not wanting miss a thing. Jimin was a sight to behold in the dim florescent lighting of the bathroom. His hair a mess with some strands sticking to his sweat soaked temples and forehead, the shitty light bulbs doing nothing to taint the ethereal glow to his skin that makes Jungkook want to lick him all over.

“I hope you’re still watching,” he raises his voice to the victim, not taking his eyes away from how his fingers pull out before they are swallowed back in passed Jimin’s puckered, needy hole. “If you’re not then you’re missing quite the show. Right, baby?” Jungkook croons at Jimin, his tone softer when he addresses his partner. “Who wouldn’t want to watch you fuck yourself on my fingers? Hm?”

Before he realises it, Jungkook is four fingers deep in Jimin. Thrusting each digit in until he can continuously strike his sweet spot again and again. He strokes and prods, all the while his free hand pumps Jimin’s cock repeatedly in tandem with the thrusts of his fingers. “What do you need, Jiminie-hyung? Tell me. You have to tell me what you want.”

“F-Fucking Christ, Jungkook! Y-You know what I want! Don’t fucking play with me!” Jimin exclaims, his thighs trembling, quivering as they work to stay in the air.

Jungkook chuckles and makes quick work of unzipping his fly. He only tugs his boxers and jeans half-way down his ass, pulling his cock out from under the fabric. Jimin’s eyes automatically flicker down, his tongue darting out to lick over his bottom lip.

“You always like what you see, don’t you, beautiful? No one can fuck you up like I can.” Jungkook shuffles in front of him again and holds the base of his cock. He slaps the underside of his length over Jimin’s rim, smirking when Jimin clenches around nothing.

“You want this, Jimin? I wanna hear you say it,” Jungkook hisses.

Jimin’s dark eyes flashes back up to him, his own smirk curling his lips. “You know I’ll always want you, Jungkook. No one else.”

Pleased with that answer, Jungkook nestles his cock perfectly in-between Jimin’s ass cheeks. He rocks himself back and forth to slather his cock with the lubricant, getting it slimy enough so that he can slide right in. He peers over his shoulder again as he does so, noticing a rather prominent tent in their captive’s slacks.

“Oh…look what you’ve done, Jimin. You were acting like such a little slut, he even grew hard,” Jungkook laughs mockingly. “How long do you think it’ll take for him to cum from just watching you? Do you think he wants to touch himself right now just from the sight of you?” Jungkook tilts forward and trails open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and down to his neck. Once he was hovering over the spot that joins Jimin’s neck and shoulder, he grazes the skin with his teeth, simultaneously slipping inside.

“Fuck…Oh fuck…J-Jungkook,” Jimin whines, high pitched and wanting.

“Do you like being watched, hyung? Look at you, you’re fucking dripping all over yourself. You don’t have any shame, do you?” Jungkook groans as he keeps himself in place. “Like me filling you up nice and good in front of our little victim? You’re enjoying this a lot, aren’t you?”

“F-Fuck yeah, I am,” Jimin giggles, his hands reaching out to drape over each of Jungkook’s shoulders.

Jungkook starts slow, his head bowed between Jimin’s arms to watch himself fuck in and out of the smaller man. “Can you see him over my shoulder?” Jungkook inquires, and gets an affirmative noise from Jimin. “Wanna guess what he’s thinking about?” He lifts his head, smiling. He catches Jimin’s eyes again before bringing their foreheads together. He's creating a steady rhythm, in, out, breathe, in out, breathe. “I bet he’s thinking of fucking you, burying his cock into you like how I am now. But you wouldn’t let him do that, would you?” Jungkook bites his lip to hide the widening grin on his face. “You’re mine, you wouldn’t let another man touch you without hearing me in your ear, or feel my hands on your skin. I’ll burn myself into you,” he groans softly, showing off every expression of pleasure rather than mask it like he often does. “You won’t even kiss someone else without my name falling from your pretty lips. No one can give you what you want, only I can. I’m the only one who can fuck you, make you scream. No one will kill for you like I would.”

“N-No one else, baby. No one else,” Jimin readily agrees, nodding his head vigorously.

When Jungkook spares a brief glance their victim’s way, he sees the man watching them with barely concealed disgust, but Jungkook catches the flashes of hunger here and there. “Someone likes seeing you getting fucked senseless,” Jungkook coos at his lover, who smiles happily in return. “You must just be that beautiful…”

It fuels Jungkook's fire to be watched, and the older man has to bite down on his lip, hard, just to stop himself from making too much noise. Jungkook speeds up his thrusts when Jimin tells him to, each slam causing a loud smacking sound to bounce off the walls. It was dirty and raw and Jungkook can't get enough of the darling mewls that he receives from Jimin.

"Jungkook..." His name is sweet, sugary, dripping off Jimin's tongue like honey.

"I'm here," he replies.

Jimin’s gaze makes his heart pound, his dark brown eyes sparkling with arousal and tears of pleasure as they watch him unrestrained heat; a look that was most likely reflected in Jungkook’s own.

"You're here." Jimin agrees with a tender smile.

The older man keeps his forehead pressed against his, keeping his face open to show all that was happening between them. Jungkook feels as though his inside are going up in flames as his skin breaks out in a sweat. It's so hot, and so humid. He feels like a fever is suddenly washing over him. “You’re mine. You’re all mine. Don’t you ever fucking forget that, Jimin,” he breathes in heavily. His hands, which have slipped ever so slightly from where they were, now brace under each of Jimin’s thighs, tightening so that he can fuck into him with ease.

“I’m yours, I’m y-yours. O-Oh…fuck…g-god…yes…You f-fuck me so good, baby. I’m so p-proud of you,” Jimin stammers, the forceful movements of Jungkook’s hips, causing his voice to rattle.

Jungkook gnaws at his bottom lip, his eyebrows pinching as the warmth in his belly spreads. Jimin is everywhere, around him, against him. His fingers are in his hair, tugging and combing through soothingly, and Jungkook almost wants to purr in pure delight. “You’re never going to leave me. Never. I’m not going to fucking let you,” Jungkook says through harsh breaths, thrusting his hips into Jimin in a frantic animalistic manner.

“S-Shh…I’m n-not leaving you. N-Never. I wouldn’t d-do that to my baby,” Jimin reassures him between moans.

It’s rough and fast and Jimin encourages him to go deeper. He watches the man in the chair tremble and close his eyes through the mirror and Jimin merely smirks and hugs Jungkook close. He repeats his whispers, his praises. He tells him for the millionth time just how good he is, how amazing Jungkook was making him feel, and the younger man always appreciates it. He loves it. He loves hearing praise from Jimin, no matter how many times those same words have been spoken. He loves knowing that he was doing good, that he was loving Jimin the way he deserves to be loved. However, what he loves the most is hearing that Jimin was never going to leave him.

“T-This isn’t good enough,” Jungkook decides suddenly.

To Jimin’s great disappointment, Jungkook pulls out of him and steps back. Though his displeasure is short-lived, because not a minute later Jimin is being pulled off the counter and onto his feet. Jungkook tugs him to the centre of the room, right in front of their shaking victim and presses Jimin’s back to his chest. Before Jimin can question what the younger was planning to do, one of his legs is hiked up and Jungkook is thrusting his cock back into him again. Jimin screams, loud, and wanton, happy to be in the new position where their captive could see Jungkook’s cock piston into him, his own cock, red and weeping, bouncing with each slam.

“You like this, Jiminie? He can see your eager little hole taking me in so well now,” Jungkook pants against the nape of his neck. He has one hand splayed across Jimin’s stomach, keeping the older man upright and flushed to him. “Are you gonna cum for me now?”

“Y-Yes…I-I wanna cum…I w-want…I-I’m gonna…” Jimin throws his head back towards Jungkook’s shoulder, his body jerking and jolting with his release. His cum splatters over his stomach and drips down his abs. He's silent for a long moment, eyes unseeing as a white hotness flashes through his body. He's trying to come down, but he doesn't really want to.

"Fuck...just like that... So good for me, baby."

Jimin clenches tight around him, trying to milk him for all that he was worth and Jungkook so wants to fall over the edge into oblivion, but he can't. He still has some need within him to keep it going. Jimin came before he did, which means he was partially satisfied. Now he can take his time with this.

The younger rolls his hips sensually, almost panting like a dog as he observes the way Jimin opens up to him, how he fucks back towards him, wanting more despite how sensitive he is. Jungkook is captivated. “Who knew you’d get off on being watched as you’re fucked into over-sensitivity.” Jungkook’s lips upturn into a coy smile. “You’re such a good boy, Jimin.”

Jungkook shifts slightly and drives harder into him, making sure to hit that sweet spot over, and over, and over again. One more thrust, and his hips remain flushed against Jimin’s pert ass. He wants the other to savor the feeling.

“J-Jungkook…” Jimin sobs, his form limp against Jungkook as his body becomes over-stimulated.

Something hot and heavy twists in Jungkook’s stomach, tightening and coiling in anticipation. He looks down between them to watch his cock disappear into Jimin with each slam of his hips. He bucks upwards relentlessly, dragging his cock along Jimin’s walls, striking his prostate harshly to make the other scream out.

“Fuck…F-Fuck!” Jungkook cums with a loud drawn out groan, the space between his brows furrowing. He twitches from the aftershocks of his orgasm, knees wobbling ever so slightly as he spills into Jimin with a few lazy thrusts. Finally letting go of Jimin’s leg, he loses all the energy he had before.

The couple stand in their same positions for a moment. Jungkook wraps both his arms around Jimin’s waist, and assists in keeping him standing. Their victim has his eyes closed, and his legs pressed tightly together in an attempt his hide his erection. Jungkook feels like laughing, wants to mock him, maybe bend Jimin over the counter and fuck him till the man creams his pants. Jungkook was perhaps a little too happy that his boyfriend had made some homophobic piece of shit hard as a rock by just being fucked.

At this point, nothing fazes him for too long.

“…I wanna cut his dick off,” Jimin mumbles through his sleepy, sex haze.

“…I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

Chapter Text

For the fifth time that night, Jimin winces through his teeth at another violent swing Jungkook takes at their victim’s mid-section. Taking no notice of his boyfriend’s worry, Jungkook carries on undeterred, his hands, shirt, and face bloodied. Any other night, Jimin would’ve cheered him on, kissed him thoroughly afterwards as he washes away the stains and dry blood. Tonight, however, every slice Jungkook makes seems to cause Jimin to scrunch his nose up further.

“Something wrong?” Nothing gets passed Jungkook, especially anything that involves Jimin. He turns his eyes to look at the older man sideways, cheek and chin spotted red.

“Nothing, love. I just need a drink.” Jimin hops down from the bathroom counter and pads over to Jungkook. “Want me to get you anything?” he asks, pecking the other on the jaw.

Jungkook’s eyes soften, then shakes his head. “No. You go ahead. I’ll deal with this.” He jerks his head towards the victim, who’s utterly caved in on himself in more ways than one.

Ah…that heart could’ve been so valuable.

They returned to Seoul a couple of nights ago, all set to stay in the capital. Those five months with Jungkook were nothing short of heavenly. Getting away from his usual scene was refreshing, reenergizing. But, now that his vacation was over, it was time Jimin went back to work. Coincidentally, at that same moment, his phone rings with an unknown number. Before the couple had entered the city, they stopped at a random gas station where he’d grabbed a new prepaid phone. It was a new phone with a new number. No one should know it, which means there was only one person that could be calling.

“Too long,” Namjoon grumbles.

“Are you worried, hyung?” Jimin smiles unconsciously as he reaches into the hotel room’s refrigerator and pulls out a bottle of white wine. “You’re a lot slower this time, Namjoon-hyung. Getting old perhaps?”

“I was being generous… And you didn’t tell any of us you were going to run away with your new boyfriend,” Namjoon replies, sighing softly. “This kid… Jeon Jungkook. Born September 1st, 1997. 20 years old. Virgo. Blood type A. Gone missing about the same time you were in Seoul for the last job.”

“Oooh, you’re so fast, Namjoon-hyung,” Jimin says with a light lilt to his voice. Slightly mocking.

“What are you doing, fucking bringing a kid into this? Not only that, Taehyung tells me you’ve been failing to deliver. Yoongi-hyung isn’t going to be happy when Hoseok comes around and there is nothing to be handed over.” Namjoon sounds tired. Then again, he always sounds tired. Jimin should feel guilty for being one of the sources of his stress, but guilt would not make Namjoon take a vacation any time soon.

Before they reached Seoul, Jimin had decided that it was time he stopped Jungkook from wasting such good, healthy, valuable organs. He didn’t need Namjoon to make a direct call and tell him that. He’s humoured his boyfriend for long enough. He’s been liberal about the victims they take home, offering Jungkook the ones who were coughing up their lungs, who could barely stand on their own two feet so that none of the good ones would go to waste. At one point or another, he’s going to have to drop off more supplies. Jimin can’t allow Jungkook to keep killing without him knowing that there’s a rhyme and reason for his little hobby.

He’s missed far too many meetings with Taehyung, going so far as to even ignore his messages when his friend would ask him when he would be available. That, makes him feel rather bad. He never leaves Taehyung for longer than a few months, and if his memory serves him right, it’s been five months since he and Jungkook took off across South Korea. Five months of no supply drops, no meetings.

“I’ll deal with it,” Jimin assures.

“You fucking better. I’m not gonna be the one to explain to Yoongi-hyung why you’re slacking,” Namjoon says, then breaks into a soft chuckle. “He’s not going to be happy when he knows you’ve found yourself a new boy toy.”

“He’s not a toy,” Jimin drawls instantly. He’s been expecting it, and he can imagine how Yoongi would behave when he meets Jungkook. Though his hyung was by far the least of Jimin’s concerns. Jungkook is easy to anger, and Yoongi has a knack for getting under people’s skin.

“Taehyung wants to meet you tonight. He’s been antsy, so it’s your responsibility to reassure the kid. He’s been coming around my place too much out of anxiety. Been eating all the food in my fridge. I’ve made five trips to the market this week!” Namjoon complains.

Jimin smiles in amusement, casting a brief glance to the closed bathroom door to make sure Jungkook wasn’t listening in. “Gets you out of the lab, at least, right?”

“Fuck that.” Namjoon scoffs.

“Hyung…you’re a grown man. If you’re that disgruntled about it, just have Taehyung do the grocery shopping for you.” Jimin shrugs, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pours the wine into two champagne glasses.

“Nah…” Namjoon sighs again. “He’s got a lot on his mind right now. I don’t wanna add onto that. Anyway…” he pauses, and there’s some shuffling on the other end. “Go meet with him. He’s at the usual place. He’s been trying to close a deal for the last few days. Some heartbroken mother who is being difficult. See if you can help while you’re there." 

Jimin grunts softly in acknowledgment before the call cuts off.

“Who was that?”

Jimin doesn’t flinch when he hears Jungkook directly behind him. The younger can be light on his feet when he wants to be. “No one you have to be concerned about right now.” Jimin turns with the two glasses of wine and grins up at his boyfriend.

Jungkook arches an eyebrow at the drinks in his hands, then looks down at the state he’s in. He looks as if he'd stepped right out of a slaughter house. “I’ll go get cleaned up first.”

Jimin nods, attempting to sidestep him to get to the bed, but Jungkook stops him just in time, his arm shooting out to stop Jimin in his tracks, fingers pressing possessively into the small of his back. “Where do you plan on running off to?”

Jimin shivers in delight as Jungkook’s voice dips an octave. He feels something hot twinge in his stomach at Jungkook’s warm breath so close to his ear, his arm solid and tight around his waist. He’s dirty, bloody, and dishevelled, but Jimin doesn’t think he can look any more beautiful than he does now. “Is there something you need, Jungkookie?” he giggles, a buzz of giddiness pulsing through his body. He hasn’t taken one sip of the wine yet, however, the smell of blood and sweat on Jungkook has him feeling intoxicated.

“Take a bath with me.” It’s not a suggestion.


The fourth time that Jungkook asks him where he was going, Jimin resorts to kissing him for each time he opens his mouth. The method is effective to keep the younger man quiet, but Jimin knows that he can’t keep this up forever. He has an appointment to meet with Taehyung in ten minutes at the nearest hospital, which so happens to be H Plus Yangji Hospital. From what Namjoon told him, Taehyung will already be there, sitting around or by the entrance talking to the mother of some poor bastard in the hospital’s care. Thinking ahead, Jimin sets up a time where the streets would be less crowded, leaving them more leeway to sneak about in the shadows. What he didn’t plan was for Jungkook to whine about it for the 45 minutes that he’s getting ready.

“Why do you have to put on cologne to go to a business meeting?” Jungkook asks, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

“I wear cologne every time I go out, Jungkook-ah,” Jimin replies, looking amused.

He likes these little bouts of jealousy that Jungkook goes through. He supposes it’s due to neither of them having ever been apart for too long. For the past five months, it has been just him and Jungkook. There wasn’t really anything for Jungkook to be jealous about, but he didn’t want to introduce his boyfriend to the darker parts of his lifestyle this way. Especially not with Taehyung. He would rather have Jungkook meet Namjoon first; a person that was capable of explaining the situation in careful detail.

“Can you please at least tell me where you’re going. You’ll have your phone with you, right? In case…” Jungkook trails off.

“In case what?” Jimin smirks, sliding his phone into the pocket of his jeans. “In case I get lost?”

“In case you need me.” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, his biceps flexing as his arms tighten over his chest.

Jimin, unable to resist the urge to tease, reaches out and traces over the veins on Jungkook’s exposed forearms. He slides in closer and winds his arms around Jungkook’s neck, pressing himself against him so that every line and curve can be felt even through his clothes. Jungkook watches him with a calculative stare, dark eyes shooting down to Jimin’s lips then back up to meet his gaze. “Would I need you?”

He understands Jungkook’s worry. With what they do, the sort of hobby they have, Seoul has become a minefield. One wrong step, it takes just one mistake for it to all to be destroyed. Jimin has confidence, though. He’s more concerned about Jungkook than himself. Being back in Seoul will bring along a lot of unwanted trouble. Precautions would have to be made, for Jungkook especially. Jimin has the city mapped, has Namjoon to consult if he was unsure about a certain part of town, Jungkook has no one but his own boyfriend to trust. Although Jimin has confidence that he will not lead Jungkook astray, he can’t promise that they won’t run into a few bumps in the road.

“Please, need me,” Jungkook murmurs into their kiss, making Jimin smile. The younger cups the back of his head, tangling his fingers into the hairs at his nape, softly tugging to get Jimin to part his lips.

“I have to go,” Jimin whispers, withdrawing. Jungkook, naturally, chases after him, eyes still closed as he leans forward for more. Giggling, Jimin pecks him one more time before he steps away to get to the door.

“Have a safe trip,” Jungkook sighs, stumbling forward a step without the support of the older man’s body, as if to make a reach for him and gather Jimin back into his arms and never let him go again.


Jimin remembers his solitary walks down the streets of Seoul. Be it night or day, Jimin finds each district to be just as exciting as the last. With the exception of the suburban areas, there was never a dull moment. Night life was just a tad bit more interesting. He sees less businessmen and more party-goers and college students linger on the streets at this time, with Jimin walking among them. He wonders if they ever think about it - about their own vulnerability. As a killer, it’s Jimin’s habit to find the weakest links. The ones that can’t run very fast, the naive, the egotistic...the ones that starve for attention. He wonders who Jungkook would choose if he were here with him. Jungkook doesn’t have a specific preference like Jimin does. He has no reason to scour the masses for a certain type. He’s happy with whoever Jimin decides to bring to their hotel room, he’s happy regardless of height, weight, personality, and appearance overall. So unlike Jimin in many ways. And that leads him into thinking of how the others will see Jungkook.

Though he can always rely on Taehyung to be the friendliest one out of all of them. Followed by Hoseok.

“It’s been the same for months now, Imo…” Jimin recognises the familiar baritone when he nears the entrance to the hospital. “They just care about other patients more, the rich ones. It happens everywhere. They reserve it for the important people.”

There’s a murmur of agreement in response to Taehyung’s words and Jimin snorts to himself.

“It’s unfair how they treat us. Jin-hyung...he’s been there for so long. They keep telling me again and again how they’re just waiting on a heart. They’ve been telling me the same thing for months now!” came Taehyung’s outraged exclamation. “He’s getting worse and I...I just don’t know what to do. It’s the same every time I ask.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, dear.” The person, a woman around her mid-forties, replies with a sympathetic sigh. “I know it’s been rough. The doctors...those nice doctors are doing the best that they can,” she sighs again. “My son will get better, and so will your brother. Let’s have some hope. You never know, a miracle could happen. I know that the lord is watching over my boy.”

“Why would they do this? Why would they keep us waiting for so long? W-What if...What if he passes away before they can get a new heart?” Taehyung sniffles, and as Jimin putters closer, he can see his friend bringing up a hand to wipe away at his ‘tears’. “W-Why can’t they just...why does it always have to be so complicated?”

That’s where Jimin steps in. Jogging in place where he’s hidden by some shrubbery, Jimin wastes some of his energy before he stumbles out, cheeks red, hair windswept by the chilly November air, and out of breath. “Soon-Yul!” he calls out the pseudonym. “Soon-Yul! H-How is he? Did they say anything else?! I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit! Work has been so busy lately!”

Surprise sparks in Taehyung’s eyes for all of a few seconds before he straightens and pulls Jimin into his arms, allowing himself a minute to enjoy his friend’s warmth. “No...No, they haven’t said anything else about Jin-hyung’s heart. Jun-Young...w-what am I supposed to do? The rent. I can’t afford the rent without Jin-hyung.”

Jimin isn’t an actor like Taehyung is, but he can carry his own when he wants to. He can fake a sympathetic gesture, and give comfort without feeling too sincere about it. “That’s what I came to talk to you about!” he chirps, glancing briefly at the woman behind Taehyung before giving her a polite smile and bow. “I...I think I have a solution for both of your problems. One of my colleagues knows a person that can help. If the hospital doesn’t have what we need, what Jin-hyung needs, there’s a person that can get it for you for a price!” Jimin, for the dramatics, fumbles to retrieve something from his wallet with cold, shaky fingers, and hands a card to Taehyung. “His name is J-hope. I think it’s just an alias though. It has his contact info and everything!”

“...Jun-Young,” Taehyung breathes as he stares at the business card in awe. “I don’t know… This seems a little sketchy.”

The woman takes a sly glance over Taehyung’s shoulder, her eyes wide and somewhat hopeful. However, just one glance at the woman, Jimin can already tell that she has her hopes high for a god given miracle. Religious.

Jimin can’t relate.

“He’s right, dear. This does sound rather suspicious.” She shakes her head. “I’m getting on in years, young man, but I can always trust in god. God always finds a way.”

One look back at Taehyung and he knows they’re having the same thought.

Oh please…

“This is for Jin-hyung. Look, the hospital is obviously dragging this out, and combined with your apartment’s rent, you’ll be in debt for years. Four months has come and gone. Jin-hyung has been waiting for that heart for more than the specified time that they told us. They're screwing us over. Just...think about it, alright?” Jimin places a hand on his shoulder. “He provides with a reasonable price. He’ll donate what we need anonymously. No harm done!”

Jimin makes sure to avoid the topic of how Hoseok has acquired such things, because this is all for the benefit of their audience. He has to play the ignorant, hopeful best friend. He has to sugar coat it, choose his flowery words wisely, because there’s a risk in telling random citizens about their operations.

“Do you...have a copy of that?” the woman asks timidly, having seemingly changed her mind.

Taehyung turns and smiles forlornly. “Here. You can take it, Imo. I think it might help you more. I wouldn’t have the money for it anyway,” he shrugs and hands her the card.

She leaves with a relieved and grateful smile, bidding Taehyung a goodbye before she takes down the street. Jimin watches her go silently. He should feel dirty for deceiving a grieving mother; seeing how her son’s hospitalisation has affected her should make him feel guilty for directing her to the black market.

Well…he has to earn a living somehow.

“Where have you been?!” Taehyung tackles him when he has his back turned to him. Jimin’s smaller frame suddenly engulfed by long slender arms. “I asked Namjoon-hyung but he said that you were doing your own thing! I didn’t know when you’d be back and you didn’t even text me! Yah! What the hell were you doing ignoring your best friend?!” he snapped, and just as fast as Jimin was hugged, he was pushed away.

Jimin staggers, laughing at Taehyung’s put-upon tone. “Come on. Let’s take a walk.”

Taehyung grumbles under his breath but complies, throwing his arm over Jimin’s shoulder and leads him towards the local park. “You’re being followed, by the way.”

Jimin smiles, leaning into Taehyung’s side. “I know.”

Jungkook isn’t discreet when he tails Jimin. It would be more of a surprise for Jungkook not to follow him. He’s bound to be curious about what sort of meeting Jimin was attending given that they’ve been inseparable since Jungkook went missing. Jimin will give him an A for the effort to put on black clothes and hide behind walls, but Jungkook is far from inconspicuous.

So, maybe, just maybe, Jimin laughs a little harder, touches Taehyung a little more than it was necessary. He has the tendency to throw his body around when he laughs too hard. It’s natural for him to laugh around Taehyung, though, the goofball that his friend is. And it’s nice to finally be back in a place that has familiar faces. Apart from Busan, Jimin hasn’t been outside of Seoul for more than a few weeks. To disappear for nearly half a year has him missing the privileges of living in a big city.

“Who has been filling in for me while I was away?” Jimin inquires, tugging his scarf up passed his nose. He snuggles down in his black winter coat then glances casually behind his shoulder to make sure Jungkook was still around. Sure enough, his boyfriend is only a few paces behind them, a newspaper in his hands, idly flipping through the pages as he follows. “I hope it wasn’t Namjoon-hyung…”

“Nah. Yoongi-hyung has been out once or twice. He came back real bloody though,” Taehyung laughs quietly, keeping his voice light and airy so no bystanders would hear them talk. He rubs his gloved hands together to keep warm, not bothering to look back to see Jungkook. He’s curious, sure, but Jimin seems to know him, and he trusts Jimin with his life. “Seokjin-hyung tried too. But the first guy he tried to kill got his clothes all bloody. He called us to help him clean it up. Threatened to throw us into a vat of acid if we didn’t help. He’s been whining about it for a month now. So…it’s mainly just Yoongi-hyung. Hoseok-hyung is a scaredy-cat about that shit so it’s best he doesn’t do that stuff.”

Jimin chuckles and nods along. They walk in silence for five minutes, wandering down the path that circles the park. It’s when they reach a small children’s playground that Jimin speaks again. “His name is Jungkook, if Namjoon-hyung hasn’t already told you.”

“Jungkook? You mean the kid that was declared missing a while ago? He was with you all this time?” Taehyung frowns, tilting his head at his friend.

They take a seat on one of benches nearby. Jimin shivers when his ass makes contact with the cold wood, causing him to shrink further into his jacket. The dim street lamps lining the sides of the path provides soft lighting in the freezing night, the moon hidden away behind clouds. Jimin shivers violently again while Taehyung sits down beside him, blowing into his palms to give his frozen fingertips some warmth.

“Does that scare you?”

Taehyung presses his lips together tightly and doesn’t address his fear about the topic. “He went with you willingly?”

“I don’t keep victims, Taehyung.” Jimin rolls his eyes. “Yes, he’s my boyfriend. Well, technically, fiancé.” He holds his left hand up to show Taehyung the gold band on his ring finger.  

Taehyung’s eyes go wide. He grabs Jimin’s wrist and brings the hand up an inch from his face to inspect the ring. “You ran away and got engaged? To a kid you’ve known for five months?”

“Well, actually, I’ve known him for a year now. We were together long before we took off. Why are you talking to me as if I’m not a grown man capable of making my own decisions?” Jimin giggles, tugging his hand back. “Remember who’s the older one here…”

“You’re only a few months older.” Taehyung is the one to roll his eyes this time. “Does he know what you do?” He twiddles his thumbs, glancing around them like they were going to be ambushed.

“Yes,” Jimin replies without skipping a beat. “I found him holding a knife over some creep’s dead body a year ago. He knows.”

Taehyung finds no comfort in that. Best friend or not, Jimin is corrupt in ways that Taehyung doesn’t dare to address. Meeting Jimin for the first time a few years back, he thought he was getting to know a kindred soul. Being born the same year, apart for only two months, Taehyung was relieved to know that he had something in common with someone within their group.

That didn’t last long.

Despite it all, despite all the good that he’s so sure that they are doing, Jimin is a murderer. A serial killer.

Out of everyone in the gang, Jimin is the one responsible for retrieving the supplies...the organs. Aside from Seokjin who handles the destruction of evidence, Jimin is the most cruel. No one, not even Namjoon and Yoongi, could have done anything to compare to the amount of pain and suffering Jimin has put people through. The worse part of that was, Jimin didn’t care. He couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the people he took. He didn’t think of the families that would be heartbroken, the loved ones that his victims would be leaving behind. Jimin doesn’t care, and that terrifies Taehyung more than anything.

Now, Jimin has lured someone else into their lifestyle. A college student of all people, an art major that was living alone in Seoul, out of his element, away from home and family in Busan. Taehyung is...curious. He thinks it peculiar that Jungkook had gone with Jimin of his own will. He’s killing with him, loves him enough to put a ring on his finger. No offense to Jimin, to the wonderful person that he was without his knives and guns, but he wasn’t the easiest person to love especially when you mix in his fondness for torture. Taehyung wants to know. He’s interested to find out what sort of person it takes to match Jimin’s toxicity. What sort of person it takes to make someone like Jimin fall in love.



“Leaving again...”

Jimin pauses at the door, his scarf half wrapped around his neck. He turns back to Jungkook, who is leaning up against the doorframe of the bathroom, fresh out of the shower. Only in a pair of grey sweatpants and a towel thrown over his bare shoulders, Jungkook watches him from across the room with unblinking eyes. His wet bangs hang heavy over them, his head cocking to the side. On instinct, Jimin’s appreciative gaze travels down then stops just above the waistband of Jungkook’s sweats, admiring his still damp skin and the few droplets of water that trail down the sharp, muscular lines of his torso. As much as he hates to leave all that skin untouched, Jimin had agreed to meet with Taehyung again tonight, his friend persistent about them going out to eat together.

“I won’t be long.” Jimin lifts his eyes up and smiles toothily.

Jungkook lifts his chin to look down at Jimin from behind his bangs, his eyes cold. “I guess there’s no point in asking where you’re going.” He pushes off the frame and saunters across the room to get to Jimin. His wet hair swings gently as he walks, more drops of water plodding onto his exposed collarbones, and Jimin is left somewhat entranced the closer Jungkook gets. Without a shirt, he feels his warmth radiate off his lightly tanned skin, his clean scent stealing the air from his lungs little by little.

The corners of Jimin’s lips curl as Jungkook crowds him against the door, his broad form a solid wall over Jimin’s front. “Are you worried?”

“Would you be if I went out without telling you what I was doing?” Jungkook braces his palms against the door, caging Jimin in.

“I trust you,” Jimin replies, his hands going limp from his scarf. “Don’t you trust me, baby?”

Jungkook frowns. “You know this isn’t what this is about. I trust you with my life,” he admits.

“That’s so sweet.” Jimin brings up a hand to cup the nape of Jungkook’s neck. He stops an inch from his face, their noses almost brushing, then closes the gap. He brings him down and sucks Jungkook’s bottom lip into his mouth, eliciting a deep groan from his fiancé. Jimin’s hand that was at his side goes to rest on the middle of Jungkook’s back, tugging him closer till Jimin no longer feels the cold breeze seeping through the cracks of the door.

“You’re distracting me,” Jungkook growls, nipping playfully at his lips. “Kissing me isn’t going to be enough.”

“Then what do you want, Jungkook-ah?” Jimin whispers.

“Tell me who you’re meeting with.” Jungkook detaches himself from him, taking a step backwards, away, out of reach of Jimin’s grabby hands. The warmth leaves them both in a whoosh, and Jungkook almost whines pathetically at how much he already misses feeling Jimin against him.

Jimin pouts in an overly dramatic display of disappointment and slumps back against the door. “Why do you want to know? It’s not important.”

“Are you fucking them?” Jungkook asks through gritted teeth.

Jimin blinks owlishly, then smirks. “What would you do if I said yes?”

Are you?

“No. I’m engaged.” Jimin wiggles his left hand, the gold band on his finger glinting in the hotel’s artificial light. “I may be a lot of things, Jungkook, but I’m not unfaithful.”

Jungkook lets out of a breath of exasperation, running his hand through his damp hair. “Why can’t you tell me? Are you in some sort of trouble?”

Jimin snickers. “Baby, I don’t get into trouble. I cause it.”

“...That’s not reassuring.” Jungkook shakes his head tiredly, his hands resting on his hips. “This is driving me crazy.”

Ah, so when couples spend enough time together, they do tend to pick up each other’s habits.

“Jungkookie…” Jimin reaches out for him, and Jungkook trudges back towards him almost as if out of pure instinct. “There’s no reason for you to feel threatened. You know I had a life before I met you. And although you are my life now, there are some things you’re going to have to find out about me for yourself.”

“You want me to find out for myself?”

“Yes, if you want to.”

Jungkook purses his lips. “Are you carrying a weapon?” He pats Jimin down himself before his lover can respond. When he finds nothing in his pockets, no suspicious lumps or bumps beneath his clothes at the front of his body, Jungkook winds his arms around him, under his coat, and smooths his palms over Jimin’s back. The older man goes compliant under his touch, arching against him. Jungkook looms over Jimin as he does so, while his boyfriend watches him with amusement. They’re far too intimately close for a body check, and Jungkook feels as though he’s walked right into a trap. His breathing has already come to a stop, catching in his throat the second he feels Jimin’s stare burn the side of his face. His hooded eyes trace over every curve and pore on the younger’s features, biting his bottom lip to hide his delighted smile. It takes all of Jungkook to not lock eyes with him. If he does, then it’s game over.

“You tell me not to be threatened, but why are you carrying a gun?” He pauses at the waistline of his jeans, frowning deeply as his fingers trace over the outline of a glock tucked into a holster at the small of Jimin’s back. “Are you ly-” Jungkook’s words cut off with a gasp when he feels something cold and sharp gently slide over his over abdomen. Jimin doesn’t press hard enough to make him bleed, but it’s there as a way to drag him back to his senses.  

“I have a knife too. I’m disappointed that you didn’t find it. I thought I taught you better.” Jimin leans in closer and tugs at his earlobe with his teeth.

Jungkook shivers at his hot breath, shock and pleasure rolling down his spine.

“Why don’t you humour me a little, Jungkook-ah?” he rasps, sliding the tip of the knife down before it stops at the strings of Jungkook’s sweatpants. “Why do I have to tell you everything? You’re a big boy now, aren’t you?”

“...Yes…” Jungkook answers slowly, cautiously. The sharp nip of the knife against his skin almost makes his eyes roll to the back of his head. The heavy arousal in his stomach becomes more and more noticeable the longer he realises how easy it would be for Jimin to drive it into him. Let’s face it, he’s chosen a serial killer as his fiancé, and Jungkook is a little bit of a masochist.

“You’re curious, right?” Jimin waits for Jungkook to nod before he draws a line back up his torso with the knife. It’s somewhat ticklish and painful all at once. “Then you can find out for yourself.”

Cruelly, and without waiting for another word from Jungkook, Jimin tucks away his knife and twists around to throw open the hotel room door. He leaves Jungkook standing, dumbfounded, in the doorway, mouth agape, eyes lighting up in challenge.


Taehyung gets the chance to meet the subject of his curiosity a few nights later when Jimin is nowhere in sight, yet Jungkook is still in the shadows, watching him. Taehyung feels strangely at ease under Jungkook’s watchful eyes. Perhaps that was because Jimin had reassured him that Jungkook wasn’t much of a threat. Brutal as he can be to his victims, Jungkook doesn’t know much about ‘hunting’. Stalking a person is something Jimin has yet to teach him. However, even if he did have the skills to intimidate, Jungkook did not possess the most threatening appearance, with his wide eyes and bunny teeth.

Taehyung heads home at midnight, after sending Jimin a heads up that Jungkook was following him. Jimin replies with a “good luck” and Taehyung doesn’t hear anything else from him. He’s not afraid about the confrontation, he can defend himself just fine. He has yet to be roped into killing a person, thankfully, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t land a few punches of his own.

Similar to the way Jungkook had followed them before, he’s not quiet about it. He trips over one too many trash bins when Taehyung makes sharp turns, and his footsteps are heavy as he tries to keep up with the older man’s long strides. They end up back at the park Taehyung and Jimin took a stroll around just a couple of nights prior. He somehow always finds himself back here. The first time when he was homeless, sleeping on the benches. Even after finding a place within the group, he goes for walks around these parts nearly everyday. If Jimin was ever looking for him, if any of the others were hoping to speak with him, he would very likely be there, blankly watching the birds, or the children play on the playground.

“You can come out now,” Taehyung calls into the bushes when he stops in the middle of the path, hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, his posture relaxed.

Jungkook steps out with a scowl. Surely he has to be aware of how terrible he was at stalking someone. “Who are you?” he sneers.

“A friend,” Taehyung answers simply with an easy-going smile.

“Bullshit,” Jungkook spits. “Who the fuck are you, and why have you been meeting with Jimin?”

“Can’t Jimin have friends?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow at him, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

Jungkook blanches. “He can! But I wanna know who the fuck you are first!”

“Aw...can’t you guess?” Taehyung clasps his hands behind his back.

Jungkook gives him a long, peculiar look. Taehyung can almost see the cogs turning in his mind - it’s a look that Taehyung receives often from those he’s meeting for the very first time. Full of rage as Jungkook may be, he’s definitely stumped to be met with a personality like Taehyung.

“Honestly, I’m offended. I thought Jimin would’ve mentioned me. He’s known me for years and he didn’t talk about me to the man that he was going to marry,” he clicks his tongue.

Taehyung wants to find out how long it’ll take for Jungkook’s mask of calmness to crack.

He’s already shaking.

“My name is Kim Taehyung,” he says slowly, eyes snapping to Jungkook’s hand, which is carefully reaching into the back pocket of his jeans. “Whoa there. Aren’t you a little too young to be playing with knives, kid?” he smirks.

“Aren’t you a little too smug even when being threatened with a knife?” Jungkook shoots back.

“If I was scared every single time I was threatened by a knife, I wouldn’t be friends with Yoongi-hyung,” he scoffs.

“...What? Who?” Jungkook furrows his eyebrows.

“...Oh? Jimin hasn’t told you about Yoongi-hyung either? What has he told you about his life before you?” Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head at him. There’s a pitying look in his eyes that makes Jungkook grind his teeth.

“Jungkook-ssi, tell me something,” Taehyung starts, fearlessly circling Jungkook. He watches Taehyung in silence, turning his face only ever so slightly as the older man tiptoes around him. His shoulders are tense, and his expression is stony. “What exactly do you even know about Jiminie? What have you been doing all this time? Just killing and fucking?”

“That is none of your fucking business.” The younger clenches his jaw tightly.

Tauntingly, Taehyung stops in front of Jungkook once more and leans in close. Jungkook’s features are already contorted in unadulterated wrath, and if he looks harder, he can almost see the last strings of Jungkook’s restraints snap.

“Then what the fuck does Jimin see in a kid like you? Aren’t you being a little incompetent?”

One thing Taehyung learns straight away about Jungkook: he doesn’t like to be called a kid, nor does he like being mocked for that matter, because the next time Taehyung blinks, he barely catches himself to avoid the knife aimed at his throat. Jungkook’s snarling, and if Taehyung squints, he can imagine the vapor from his hot breath in the November chill as steam coming out of his ears. He looks red enough for it.

“Whoa! Whoa, you’re fast,” Taehyung chuckles as he dodges each swipe Jungkook makes at him. He shouldn’t be playing around, not when he’s in a real case of danger, but it’s so easy to get Jungkook riled up. Taehyung is a little bit of an asshole himself, and he kinda wants the kid to suffer for a while. “You’ve got a good arm. How many bench presses do you do?”

“Do you think this is a fucking game?” Jungkook seethes, lunging at Taehyung and almost, almost catching him on the side.

“Look, why can’t we just talk this out?” Taehyung skips out of Jungkook’s reach once again. “It’s not like I’m fucking Jimin…”

“You think I fucking care? Fucking him or not, your filthy hands shouldn’t be anywhere near him,” Jungkook hisses, his death grip on the knife turning his knuckles white. “Why would he let someone like you touch him in the first place? He should know who he belongs to. He doesn’t need anyone else.”

Blinking in confusion at Jungkook’s choice of words, Taehyung pauses. He’s never seen someone so...obsessive. Yes, he’s handled his fair share of abusive assholes, hurting and manipulating their partners...or others, both mentally and physically. He’s never met someone like Jungkook, and he sees now why Jimin has taken such liking to him. He’s hot-headed, quick to assume, quick to attack. He’s possessive and obsessive, frightened to death that Jimin will leave him. He’s everything it takes to call a relationship unhealthy. But the thing is, Jimin is exactly the same. They’re equals in that sense. While most normal couples would have common interests and mutual trust as the foundation of their relationship, Taehyung can see that it’s entirely different for Jimin and Jungkook. They’re together because they’re both fucking insane .

“Controlling…” he comments.

“He’s mine,” Jungkook growls, and Taehyung almost rolls his eyes again. “I don’t know who you are to Jimin, but I’m not taking that chance. I’m not fucking losing him. Not now.”

“Seriously...I would suggest anger management classes.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you…”

Taehyung scoffs. “That would be more threatening if you could actually touch me…” he snorts. “I’m his best friend, dumbass. Just so you know,” Taehyung pauses to lean in for dramatic effect. “I was there first.”

The second thing Taehyung learns about Jungkook: he’s quick-tempered. He’s never seen someone so rageful before, and Taehyung has had a pretty shitty life. Jungkook is a bull in an all red world. When Taehyung attempts to pacify him with some reassuring words, none of it gets through to him. The fact that he isn’t taking Jungkook seriously, also might be the reason for his lividness. Taehyung was all for fun and games, but Jungkook was murderous.

“Ahh…You’re so cute, Jungkookie!” Taehyung squeals, managing to jab Jungkook in the side, catching him off guard.

“Fuck. You.” Jungkook snaps, skilfully flipping his knife in the air then swings again.

Taehyung pouts. He jumps back behind one of the benches, creating a separation between him and Jungkook. “Look...kid, I’d really love to spend all night here not being killed by you, but I have things to do tomorrow…”

“Fuck, don’t you ever shut up?!”

The older man was getting tired. He can’t keep running and dodging every attack.

Fortunately, his saving grace arrives all wrapped up in winter clothing with a large ice popsicle in his hand. Jungkook notices Jimin first, his knife wielding hand stopping mid-air when his lover draws closer to them. Although he has just strolled onto the scene of his fiancé attacking his best friend, Jimin is as casual as he always is. He stops just a few steps away from them, cheeks pink from the cold, hair fluffy, his large coat and scarf dwarfing his body. Meanwhile, Jungkook and Taehyung are frozen in time, one hiding behind a bench, the other brandishing a knife, ready to strike down at any second. However, he doesn’t, because Jimin is there, with a popsicle and the most adorable smile on his lips that has his cheeks bunching up and his eyes disappearing.

“Hey, guys,” Jimin greets cheerfully. “What’s going on?”

“Jiminie!” Taehyung yells in delight. He hops out from behind the bench and reaches out for his friend, though one growl from Jungkook has him dropping his arms with a pout. “Jimin, control your pet…”

“Hm?” Jimin hums around a lick of his ice cream. “Jungkook? Have you been bad?”

Jungkook grunts and lets his arm go limp at his sides. He rounds on Jimin and stalks towards him. He stops just a few inches away, frustrated, out of breath, and still furious.

“Aw...Is my baby tired?” Jimin goes up onto his tiptoes and kisses the tip of Jungkook’s nose.

Jungkook doesn’t speak, only steps around Jimin and wraps his arms around him from behind, immediately shoving his face into his neck. Jimin laughs about the coldness of his nose, but he doesn’t pull away. Trust Jimin to be so nonchalant about this.

Almost in a trance, Taehyung watches them without saying a word to interrupt. It’s fascinating how they work together. He’s seen Jimin and Jungkook apart, this is the first time he’s seeing them together. They’re not what he was expecting. Yes, he’s well aware just how sick they both were, but seeing them together almost convinces him that they’re just like any other couple. However, not one second later, that thought is wiped clean from his mind when he sees the way Jungkook’s arms tighten around Jimin’s waist, pulling his back flushed to his front. Still holding onto the popsicle, Jimin holds it up to Jungkook’s mouth. The younger shakes his head and buries his face back into Jimin’s neck and scarf, taking a deep breath of his familiar scent. Jimin whispers something to him that brings a smile to Jungkook’s face, and Taehyung is reeling. Who knew the kid was actually capable of smiling.

“I’m sorry he troubled you, Taehyungie.” Jimin turns back to him with a warm smile, his fingers sticky from the popsicle. Without a word, he switches the stick into his other hand and lifts the sticky one up to Jungkook’s face. Like an obedient dog, Jungkook takes his wrists and brings his fingers to his mouth.

Taehyung feels like he’s intruding on a intimate moment as Jungkook catches the droplets of juice on Jimin’s fingers with his tongue. Sensing that he’s being stared at, Jungkook looks up and locks eyes with Taehyung. The younger doesn’t break the link as he takes each of the digits into his mouth, sucking them clean. It’s a claim. It’s Jungkook’s way of telling Taehyung that he is in fact intruding on something private; that Jimin belonged to him, and that there was no one else on Earth Jimin would ever be this comfortable with. And Taehyung believes it.

Jimin is comfortable with him in his own way. His friendship with the killer is probably the only thing that remotely resembles a healthy relationship. In completely different categories, he can’t compare that to what Jimin and Jungkook have. Maybe it’s the eyes that get to him. While Jungkook’s is wild with an restrained rage, possessive to the extreme, Jimin watches his fiancé with an intensity that could make Taehyung shudder in fright.

“It’s fine. I got a lot of exercise,” Taehyung shrugs with a grin. “Hey, did you get that from the convenience store? Did you get me one?!” He springs forward and shoves his hands into Jimin’s coat, then jumps away when Jungkook’s slashes the knife at him again.

Jimin doesn’t bat an eyelash. “Put your knife away, love. We’re in a public space,” he tells Jungkook, who instantly does.

“Get your own. I only bought one,” Jimin replies to Taehyung with a shrug.

Jungkook is confused. Taehyung can tell by the crease between his brows, by the way he glances between Jimin and himself with a perplexed expression. Deciding to be a little shit, Taehyung takes a long lick of Jimin’s popsicle then deftly dances away before Jungkook can react. But this time, before he can dodge, Jungkook grabs the collar of his jacket and nearly lifts him off his feet.

“I’m going to fucking maim you.”

“Mm...bubblegum,” Taehyung hums, licking his lips. “Hey! Let’s go get some ramyeon. I’m super hungry right now.” Taehyung beams over at Jimin, unaffected by the very violent and very enraged young man holding him by the collar.

Lethargically, Jimin places a hand on Jungkook’s bicep and leans up to kiss his ear. “We’d love to, Tae,” he says, trailing his hand up to Jungkook’s shoulders, giggling at the way his muscles flex underneath his shirt as he releases Taehyung. It takes just one touch. One, singular touch for Jungkook to deflate. Jimin truly does have a leash on the boy, because it looks effortless the way Jimin calms Jungkook. With Taehyung, it took for Jimin just appearing in his line of vision to get Jungkook to drop everything he was doing.

Jungkook may behave like a rabid guard dog, but he was nothing more than a lovesick little puppy.

“Seriously, how many bench presses?” Taehyung straightens his clothes, shaking his head.

“Jungkook, did you introduce yourself properly?” Jimin asks, sucking his popsicle into his mouth then letting it go with a pop. “You shouldn’t be rude.”

Jungkook frowns and looks at Taehyung steadily. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Jeon Jungkook.”

Taehyung’s lips stretch impossible wide across his face at that. “I’m Kim Taehyung! But you knew that. Actor extraordinaire, and Park Jimin’s best friend. You guess you can call me hyung. Also, you owe me a popsicle when we get to the convenience store...”

Jimin nods in confirmation when Jungkook glances at him with a raised eyebrow. Though he seems to be placated, he doesn’t offer to shake Taehyung’s hand or apologise for his behaviour. It’s not like Taehyung was hoping for one anyway.  

Astonishingly, Taehyung doesn’t feel like a third wheel when he’s with the couple. Jungkook doesn’t talk to him much, leaving Jimin and himself to converse happily. The younger man doesn’t let go of Jimin, however. Not when they’re walking to the convenience store, and not when they’re picking up their food. You’d think the kid was physically glued to Jimin’s back by the way he doesn’t separate himself. Taehyung assumes it’s difficult to walk like that, but they both look too comfortable, he doesn’t want to point it out.

“Do you like egg in yours, Jungkookie?” Taehyung’s asks as he’s preparing the ramyeon bowls.

“Don’t call me that...and yes,” Jungkook sighs, hooking his chin over Jimin’s shoulder.

“Hm...we should buy some rice too later. For the soup,” Jimin says absently, his hand having never left Jungkook’s hair since they’ve entered the store. “Kinda want some kimchi too,” he mutters, turning his face to look at his fiancé.

Jungkook stares back at him with a small smile and half-lidded eyes. There’s something about the way they look at each other…It was fun teasing Jungkook about Jimin, but he had never really believed the younger would have actually killed him, now he's not so sure. Their expressions are too raw, they’re too open, too vulnerable to each other and Taehyung doesn't see that, ever, in their world. Jimin's completely bare with Jungkook, he doesn't conceal a thing and that's the scariest part about it. Jimin has always been somewhat of an enigma, not as much as Namjoon, but he’s difficult to figure out. He’s not simply a murderer, it’s not as clean-cut as that. Even after years of being his best friend, after hearing about all the shit that Jimin had to go through to get to where he is now, Taehyung finds that he’s a hard person to grasp.


Taehyung sends them of sidelong glance and makes an annoyed sound. “Don’t make-out in here or they’ll kick us out before we have our food,” he reprimands them.

To any other bystander, it would appear as though they were any other group of young college students out for a midnight snack. There’s a feeling of normalcy there that Taehyung’s yearns for and wants to cherish, but it’s short-lived.

“I have a knife,” says Jungkook.

“I have a gun,” Jimin follows.

“...Could I please make my food first before you kill anyone? I just want my popsicle…”

Chapter Text

A few seconds from dawn, they return to their hotel room, bone-weary from being in Taehyung’s overly energetic presence. After some resistance and some convincing promises from Jimin, Taehyung allowed them to leave. Though he’d whined about it, pulling out every single persuasive card in his deck, Jimin firmly told him that they had a job to do the following day.

Jungkook is more than a little relieved when he takes the first steps into their room, promptly flopping onto the bed face-first, Jimin chuckling at him from the doorway as he locks up.

They’re staying in a moderately spacious, affordable hotel this time, in a nice neighbourhood. To Jungkook, it all looks the same, sans the weird stains and cat piss scented bedsheets. It seems that they wouldn’t be jumping from one district to the other anymore. Jimin is set to stay, Jungkook can tell by the way he leaves his toothbrush in the cup by the sink next to his, the way he will put snacks in the hotel’s mini fridge for later. Rather than leave no trace of themselves in their temporary living space, they’re doing the exact opposite now. Jimin doesn’t ask Jungkook where he wants to go next either. It’s not a one-way street, Jimin will actively wait for his opinion each time they feel that it’s about time that they move along. This is different, they’re staying, and he wants to know why.

Jungkook doesn’t talk much about the reality outside of the bubble they’ve created for just the two of them. When they’re not killing, they’re fucking, and when they’re not fucking, they’re ‘hunting’. He’s been so caught up in Jimin that he doesn’t think twice before going along with whatever the older man does. Not once has he questioned his intentions. Begrudgingly…he has to admit that he knows near to nothing about his own fiancé. Much to his extreme chagrin too, Taehyung was correct assume that he didn’t know Jimin at all.

“I’m going to go clean up a bit.” Jimin bends down over him, his lips ghosting over his temple.

Jungkook turns his face to the side, reaching his arm out just in time to catch Jimin around the waist. “Stay with me for a bit?” he demands more than asks. The bed bounces with Jimin’s weight sinking into the mattress, the spot beside him no longer bare.  

Jimin easily settles against his side, his fingers finding their way into his hair. Their legs dangle off the side of the bed, one of Jimin’s hooking over his to get more comfortable. “What’s on your mind?”

“Was Taehyung right?” Jungkook, closed off as he can be, doesn’t like to beat around the bush when it comes to Jimin. Despite being the kind of man that prefers hiding his emotions not to inconvenience others, he knows for a fact that keeping his thoughts from Jimin will only lead to complications. Jimin will pull it out of him one way or another.

“About what, baby?” Jimin’s hand stills, curious.

“About me. About me not knowing you,” Jungkook elaborates. “…Is he right about how I don’t know anything about you?”

“In a way, yes.” As if to return the favour, Jimin is straightforward with him. Trust was everything to them. Trust in a kill, trust in the secrecy, trust in each other. Without it, they’d both be more mentally unstable than they already are. “We haven’t exactly done much other than kill and have sex.”

The request for change hangs heavy at the tip of his tongue. Jungkook wants to fix that. He wants to take Jimin out on a real date. He wants to at least get lost in an illusion where they were an ordinary couple. However, they were supposed to lay low. Although the authorities have no clue of their real identities, it’s best that neither of them draw attention to themselves. And even if they can hide within the masses that travel through Seoul every day, Jungkook didn’t trust himself to behave in a manner that would not give away his murderous habits. Coming back, it’s as if he’s forgotten what he was like before he met Jimin.

“I wanna go on a date.” Jungkook states.

“A date? We always go on dates,” Jimin chuckles, his fingers dancing down the side of Jungkook’s face. His fingertips trace over the soft skin of his eyelid and then down to his eyelashes tenderly, lovingly. “We go to clubs, and parties all the time to bring someone home. Isn’t that a date?”

Jungkook blinks at him, stunned. “Have…you ever been on a date, hyung?”

“Is it called a date if you cut out your date’s lungs at the end of the night?” Jimin asks, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

“…I guess,” Jungkook snorts. “Have you ever been on a date where you didn’t kill someone?”

Jimin hums thoughtfully, his hand absentmindedly cupping Jungkook’s cheek, fingers playing with the hairs at his temple. He chews on his bottom lip as his head bobs from side to side, his eyes looking off somewhere as he contemplates that question. “Does it count if I only cut off the dick and let him live?”

Jungkook huffs out a laugh. “How did you manage that?”

“I drugged him,” Jimin replies with a shrug. “Rich, son of a billionaire. Had the smallest dick I’d ever seen so I figured, I might as well get rid of the rest. Not like he can do much with it.”

The younger is starting to see a pattern. Jimin has a sort of fixation with castrating men. Not just any men. He always has a type. He should find it eerie that some of them slightly resembled him one way or another. He should be scared but he knows he’s a different case.

“And you let him live? Did he see your face?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

“I’m very thorough, Jungkook-ah.” Jimin grins.

“Okay…well, then be prepared because I’m going to take you out on a date that won’t end with murder.”

Jimin pouts. “I thought you wanted to take me out on a good date, not a terrible one.”

“Let me get to know you before I marry you.” Jungkook rolls over and places all his weight over Jimin, pressing him down into the bedsheets.

The older man stares up at him with a soft fondness, his features relaxed, his platinum blond hair fanning around his head, parts of his bangs falling back to reveal his forehead. “Alright. If that’s what you want, then I’ll be good.”

“Is that really possible for you?” he teases.

“I’ll give it my all.”

Their lips meet in a slow kiss. They take their time as if the world can and will wait for them. It’s languid as slightly chapped lips slot together. The cold from winter has been cruel to them both, but it still manages to take Jungkook’s breath away. Jimin is warm against him, firm and incredibly responsive. When Jungkook cocks his head, Jimin follows his lead and lets the younger man lick into his mouth, tongue tracing over his teeth, tasting the last bit of sweetness from dessert they had an hour ago. They breathe heavily through their noses, Jimin’s chin tipping up in seek of more when Jungkook suddenly shifts above him, lifting himself up with his arms as to not crush his beloved beneath him. The kiss sets off sparks under Jungkook’s skin. He wants more, craves more . Jimin’s lips are so pliant, so supple, and familiar. But, on some days, it’s as though he’s kissing him for the first time, on other days Jungkook knows those lips all too well; knows that they can be cruel one moment and a second later be the most forgiving.

Relief is what Jungkook feels when he kisses Jimin. Relieved that he’s there, relieved that Jimin is responding to him just as eagerly.

“Jungkook…” Jimin gasps softly as Jungkook nibbles on his lower lip. He goes from his mouth to his jaw, to pressing his kiss-swollen lips down his neck until Jimin can trace over the path he’s made with the warmth he leaves behind.

“You taste so sweet,” Jungkook groans.

“…And you taste like ramyeon…” Jimin laughs, slinging his arms over Jungkook’s shoulders, drawing him closer.

“Oh, you’re giving me shit now ? I just had my tongue shoved down your throat.” He rolls his eyes, dropping his face onto Jimin’s shoulder.

“Well, I didn’t say I minded.” Jimin smoothly rolls Jungkook off his body before bouncing off the bed.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook protests.  

“I’m going to take a shower. You can join me if you want,” Jimin coyly offers, slinging a clean towel over his shoulder. He empties the pockets of his jeans first, setting his wallet, keys, and phone down on the nightstand beside the lamp before he struts away into the bathroom.

Jungkook is tempted to go after him. He’ll join him a little later anyway, he thinks. Jimin has his nightly (or rather morning seeing as it was dawn) routines that are spent mostly in the bathroom, Jungkook can take his time to relax.

The silence leaves him contemplative. Spend enough time by himself, and Jungkook begins to think. With Jimin, he doesn’t have to think, doesn’t have to worry. With Jimin, all he has to do is feel .


Indolently, Jungkook’s head lolls to the side to watch Jimin’s phone buzz against the wooden nightstand. The obnoxious sound makes him irritated, and it’s spite that makes him sit up and snatch it up. Although he doesn’t have a phone of his own, having left his personal one somewhere back in Busan, Jungkook would use Jimin’s from time to time. He has no contacts saved, no call history, so he assumes it’s some random telemarketer ready to sell something. Since he’s feeling a little cynical, he’s about ready to snap at them for disturbing his peace.


There’s an indignant huff at the other end, but Jungkook is too agitated to be surprised. “Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook blinks at the call of his name. “Who-”

“Mind your fucking manners, kid,” the man drawls. His voice is deep, possessing a certain tone that gives Jungkook the impression that he’s not as strict as his words. He curses without hesitation, which is a shock. No one would greet a person so crudely on the first call.

“Who is this?” Jungkook’s eyebrows pinch. He might as well start off with the basics. If it’s not a telemarketer, then they have a few things to fucking explain.

“Doesn’t matter who I am,” the other answers shortly. “What matters is who you are .”


Jungkook doesn’t know what to make of him. Maybe he should just hang up on his ass already, no matter how curious he might be. Unfortunately, his curiosity wins out. “And you know who I am?”

“I know your name, age, where you went to school, who your family are, and what you had for dinner last night,” comes the smug response.

“Alright, that’s not creepy whatsoever…” Jungkook tells himself that this should freak him out. However, as far as he knows there wasn’t anything scarier than Jimin.  So what if this man has some information on him? That doesn’t compare to some of the things that he’s seen Jimin do. Nothing can ever frighten him at this point. He’s convinced. “Isn’t it fair for you to tell me who you are when you know everything about me?”

“You’re not in a position where you can demand shit from me, kid,” he scoffs harshly. “Look, this conversation will be over before you know it, so be a good boy and let me talk. Sound good? Good.”


“Are you alone?”

Jungkook sits quietly for a beat, then nods. “Yes…”

“Jimin isn't in the room with you?”


The other man sighs. He sounds as though those questions have physically hurt him. “I fucking knew I shouldn’t have lost track of him. Now he’s dodged all of my cameras…” he mutters.

Trying the polite approach, Jungkook asks, “Excuse me? What are you talking about?”

He hears a soft chuckle. “I guess he wouldn’t tell you about that. He hasn’t been telling you a lot of things, isn’t that right?”

Jungkook worries his lip. He wants to demand to know who this man on the other line is. He wants to ask him how he knows Jimin. And what’s all this talk about cameras? Jungkook notes that this man doesn’t give off the vibe of a threat like Taehyung did. Taehyung is different, he’s Jimin’s best friend. He knows Jimin personally. He’s memorised his favourite foods, drinks, colour, brands of clothing. Jungkook hasn’t quite gotten there yet. That leaves a chance for Taehyung to slide in. No matter how much Jimin reassures him that Taehyung is no threat to their relationship, Jungkook continues to keep his guard up. This other man though, he seems not only to know about Jimin, he knows about Jungkook too. This isn’t a personal call, it’s a business one.

“He told me I should find out for myself.”

“…Is that so?” the man hums, but Jungkook has a feeling he already knows. “Of course, he would tell you that. So, are you going to take it?”

Jungkook feels a headache steadily creep to the front of his skull. It’s a sharp, irritating pain that has his eyes screwing shut. He can’t handle all these vague words; these questions only make him want to ask more of his own. “Take what?”

“The challenge,” he says, his tone insinuating that it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Are you telling me Jimin is challenging me?” Jungkook rubs the heel of his palm against one eye, too frustrated and ticked off to be having this conversation. None of this is making sense to him. He’s barely gotten any answers. The man hasn’t introduced himself yet and he has Jungkook going along with his meaningless squabble.

“Well, you obviously didn’t get many answers from Taehyung. You might as well do things for yourself.” Jungkook imagines him shrugging.

“That’s why you’re calling. That fucker told you and now you’re bothering me…”

“Actually, no. He didn’t have to. I have this whole city wired. I don’t need Taehyung to tell me anything.”

His headache intensifies, and the morning light streaming from the windows makes it all the more painful. “Look, what is your point? What’s the purpose of this conversation? Are you trying to help me?”

The other falls quiet, his breathing the only sound indicating that he was still on the phone. “I’m being kind here, kid. You need to be prepared for what you’re getting yourself into,” he sighs for the tenth time. “If you meet the others before you meet me, you’re going to have a harder time adjusting. I have a few things I want to discuss with you first.”


“Tell Jimin to bring you to me tonight at 9:12pm.” With that the connection is broken and the call goes dead.

Jungkook withdraws the phone from his ear in bewilderment, dissatisfaction and weariness coming to the forefront of his mind, throbbing and stabbing. This is too much. Jungkook comes to the realisation that this was why Jimin has been taking him around every district in South Korea for five months. It wasn’t just a simple getaway, he was avoiding the life he had in Seoul. Now, the question was, was Jungkook a mere distraction for him?

“Whatever you’re thinking, I’m sure you’re overreacting.”

The younger man lifts his head, stare landing first on the exposed skin of Jimin’s collarbone peeking out from his loose fluffy bathrobe, then his fiancé’s brown eyes. Mirth dances over his face, one corner of his lips curved into an affectionate smile, the sight making it that much easier for Jungkook to ignore his headache. The older man has a way of comforting him without the need to touch; possessing a raw nurturing aura that has Jungkook’s shoulders relaxing with one glance. Though, yes, touch can be more effective during times where Jungkook goes into one of his rages, Jimin doesn’t need to say a word for Jungkook to be pacified.

“Someone called,” Jungkook begins, sliding up onto his feet. He sets the phone back down on the nightstand then stalks over to the bathroom doorway. “How many friends do you have exactly, hyung?”

Jimin readily accepts him into his arms when Jungkook crowds him up against the frame. Jungkook believes this is an intimidating tactic, Jimin thinks it’s adorable. “About five. Why? Did one of them talk to you?” Jimin asks happily, curling his arms under Jungkook’s biceps so that his hands rest on each of his shoulder blades.

“He didn’t give me a name,” the younger replies, head dipping down to follow the movement of his hands as they smooth over Jimin’s sides, the soft cotton of the robe yielding under his fingers. He wants to rip his bathrobe open. Can do it so easily too, his knife is still tucked behind his back, just a few swipes would be enough. He wants to feel Jimin’s bare skin again. He needs the comfort, the reassurance, what better way to get it than to have Jimin naked. He has to feel closer, and closer …needs to be sure that he’s there.

“Said that you need to take me to him today at 9:12pm.”

Understanding settles over Jimin’s features. He nods, then smiles. “9:12pm? …It always has to be so specific.”

“…Is there something I need to know? Something you need to tell me?” Jungkook’s eyes narrow.

“Yeah, I’m lonely,” Jimin pouts cutely. “Come take a shower with me.”

What frustrates Jungkook the most at times is Jimin’s reluctance to speak about serious situations. It’s not rare for him to dodge a question or change the topic. He’s convinced himself that Jimin doesn’t want to tell him anything at all. However, that’s also partly his fault. Unlike Taehyung, Jungkook hasn’t put the effort into getting to know the little details about Jimin; hasn’t yet picked up on the sort of snacks Jimin loves, the type of jewellery he’ll wear depending on his mood, the clothing he’ll be adorned in when he kills. He’s distracting, that’s the excuse Jungkook comes up with. Jimin is so distracting that he’s giving Jungkook no chances to get to know anything about him outside of his body and his sweet words. It isn’t fair for Jungkook to expect the older man to tell him everything there is to know. He’s in the shadows about a lot of things that don’t involve himself, but Jimin isn’t to blame for that. And now that… that is a known issue. He realises that the way they both tend to avoid discussing real problems has Jungkook sensing a distance between them. A wall that he can easily break, but doesn’t have the tools for. Consumed in Jimin’s entire being as he is, Jungkook is aware that at some point or another, he’s going to have to face the truth of being the lover of a serial killer.

“Jimin…” he says in warning.

Not wanting to address the tension in Jungkook’s voice, Jimin tugs his younger lover into the bathroom and kicks the door closed with his foot, laughing loudly when Jungkook growls in exasperation.


An hour before they would have to leave, Jimin has gotten Jungkook back into the bathroom. Despite being up all night going along with Taehyung’s antics, the couple can still build up the energy to make love for a few hours before taking a nap. They’re right back at it again when the alarm goes off, this time in a steaming bubble bath, Jimin situated in Jungkook’s lap. The younger has his lips attached to one of Jimin’s nipples, sucking, biting, rolling the bud with his tongue as Jimin rides him through to another high. The water sloshes violently around them, spilling over the edge of the tub to soak the bathmat on the floor.

“We have about…an hour before we have to go,” Jimin reminds Jungkook, his hips rolling in a circle, sitting up and back down on Jungkook’s dick as though he has no intention of hurrying at all.

“So we’re a little late,” Jungkook mumbles through his grunts, pleasure surging up his stomach to his chest.

“I thought you hated being late?” Jimin lets his head fall back, his arms limp at his sides. Jungkook’s hands guide him up and down, leaving him panting like a dog.

“No, I hate that you’re always so slow. You’re the one who makes us late every single time,” Jungkook groans, his hot lips pressing against Jimin’s chest.

“I have to make sure I look good,” Jimin admits, arms finally coming up so his fingers can tangle in Jungkook’s chocolate locks.

“You always look good. You don’t have to check yourself for forty minutes every time,” Jungkook grumbles lightly. “Besides, does this guy really expect us to be there at exactly 9:12pm? That’s too specific.”

Jimin laughs breathlessly, more due to Jungkook’s tickling licks over his collarbone than his words. “It’s his birthday. September 12th.”

“…Okay. So now I know his birthday, but not his name,” Jungkook clicks his tongue and hisses softly through his teeth, his head jerking to show that he wasn’t understanding this situation.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about – Ah – it,” Jimin moans, chest heaving as he approaches his release. They’ve been at this for fifteen minutes and that delicious burn at his navel is growing in intensity every second. “Sometimes it’s best to go with the flow-” he trails off with a shriek when Jungkook’s hips jump, slamming inside him without a warning.

“I’ve been going with the flow for five months now, and look where that’s gotten me,” Jungkook growls, pinning Jimin’s hips down, his ass sitting plush over his muscular thighs.

“Oh…Jungkookie, you sound bitter,” Jimin purrs, picking his head back up to look at the other.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he mocks. “Moping because you didn’t get your way? You know I just like giving you a hard time.”

Brows furrowing, Jungkook purses his lips into a thin line, fed up of Jimin’s teasing. Is it wrong of him to want to get to know Jimin? They weren’t an ordinary couple, no. And they’ve done all this backwards but Jungkook wants to feel closer to him. That shouldn’t be so difficult. He feels like the only one who cares… Or was Jimin challenging him after all? Just like mystery caller had told him so. If it wasn’t important, Jimin would have told him by now. There was a bigger picture that Jungkook wasn’t seeing.

“Hey,” Jimin’s voice turns soft, tender. He knows that Jungkook has a hard time controlling his temper as it is, he shouldn’t test him. “I know what you want. I know it’s frustrating, not having the answers that you need. But just…trust me. Like you always do. Trust in me and my love for you. All you need to know is that, I’m in love with you. I love you with everything that I have and with everything that I am. That’s all that you need right now.” Gently, Jimin pushes Jungkook’s bangs away from his forehead to place his lips against the crease in-between his brows. Jimin never expected for Jungkook to blindly go along with his every word or to never question him in any way; he knows they will someday grow out of this honeymoon phase, but that wasn’t exactly a terrible thing. He’s overjoyed that Jungkook is beginning to question him. He needs Jungkook to fight on his own, find his own strengths, without Jimin. He has no qualms that Jungkook will be alright, he has faith in him.

Honeymoon phase or not, he’ll always be in love with Jungkook, and there is no doubt in him that Jungkook will love him just as much as he does now.

“You’re not going to lose me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Jimin tries to catch his eyes, patient as Jungkook raises his chin slowly. “Whatever insecurity you’re feeling right now, whatever doubt you might have about me, about this relationship, we’ll work it out together. It’ll be alright. We have all the time in the world to get to know one another,” Jimin reassures as he combs his fingers through the sides of Jungkook’s head, hips wiggling under the water to get more comfortable. “I’m just as curious about you as you are about me. And…even though we started out a little fast, now we can look forward to spending the rest of our lives together, yeah?”

Jungkook slumps back against the tub. Jimin’s words partially draining away his worries. He lifts his head, leaning back a tad to look up at his fiancé with adoring eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Jimin places one last kiss upon the crown of his head and nods once. “Now, fuck me quickly because we have a meeting to get to.”


Miraculously, they’re five minutes early to their meeting.They’re standing at an old abandoned warehouse; a solid, tall brick building that seems to have once been some sort of factory. Their footsteps echo ominously as they enter through the large steel roll-up door to step into the very vacant space. The only thing in sight was a few storage boxes and an elevator in the far corner. Jungkook feels a chill seep in through the cracked ceiling. The roof and walls are layered in peeling paint, and he can recognise that scent that only an abandoned building can produce. It’s something stale, and oddly mechanical.

Jimin takes Jungkook’s hand again after rolling down the door, lacing their fingers and tugging him towards the elevator. Jungkook decides to keep quiet as they ride down to the basement. He glances at Jimin now and then, his boyfriend giving nothing away with his small, wistful smiles. Jimin slips his arm around Jungkook’s waist in reassurance and pulls him closer. Jungkook grins and places his arm around his shoulders in return, extinguishing some of the anxiety boiling in his gut.

By the time they stop at the lowest floor, he thinks he’s ready for whatever will come next. But as he steps through through the elevator doors, Jungkook doesn’t expect to be assaulted by the muffled sound of rap music. There’s a singular door at the end of a long corridor, with light seeping through the bottom and sides, implying that it was occupied.

“This way,” Jimin says as he drags him down a different corridor.

“Er…isn’t it the other way?” Jungkook glances back over his shoulder in confusion.

“No, that door doesn’t open, and there’s a slab of steel behind it,” Jimin explains, taking two rights to get to another, smaller, roll-up door.

“What? Why?” Jungkook stumbles after him. How loud must the music be for him to still hear it beyond concrete walls and a slab of steel?

“It’s just an illusion,” Jimin says. “Just in case anyone comes snooping around. This building has been abandoned for about five years now, but sometimes kids sneak inside. It’s a precaution.”

Jungkook nods slowly in comprehension, wondering how the building has avoided being demolished if it wasn’t in use.

“Here we are.” The older man raises his fist to knock three times on the door, waiting a second for the rap music to cut off before he speaks. “Hyung! We’re here! Open up!”

“Password,” comes the familiar voice from the intercom system at the side of the door.

Jimin heaves a sigh and pushes his hair back with his other hand. “I don’t want to…”

“There’s no point in having a password if you don’t use it.”

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows. He’s getting another headache, he can feel it. He’s just so…lost in everything. He feels like an outsider being brought to a family gathering for the very first time. He’s out of place.

Min Suga genius jjang jjang man bboongbboong …” Jimin recites through another long winded sigh.

Jungkook doesn’t get the chance to laugh. He startles at the loud beep that comes from the door as it ascends for them. He nearly jumps away, except Jimin has a grip on his hand.

Nothing could’ve ever prepared Jungkook for what was behind that door. It’s…like he was stepping into a toy store. The entire place is decorated with the theme of a fucking KakaoTalk character . Ryan the Lion is everywhere, his face in every corner. He’s printed on the couch cushions, his figurines are standing on shelves above the entertainment system, there are mugs with his face on them sitting on the counter that separates the living room and the kitchen. Even the white walls are covered in posters.

The whole place is furnished, and neat. The décor clashes dramatically with the outward appearance of the rest of the building, leaving Jungkook dumbstruck.

“…What…the fuck…” Jungkook looks down at Jimin, who giggles at his expression.

“This is just the living room, Jungkookie.” Jimin pats his hand. “This way.” He gestures down a hallway with his head.

They pass by multiple rooms on the way. Two Jungkook assumes are the master bedroom and bathroom, and the others most likely guest or storage rooms. Jimin once again leads him to a door at the very end of a long corridor. The door to the room is wide open, revealing a darkly lit space made of wires, overflowing filing cabinets, and walls of monitors. There’s a table off to the side, empty cups and bottles piled up on the surface. Amidst the mess sits a desk chair holding a man furiously typing away at his computer.

With a flick of Jimin’s finger, the whole room lights up. In response, the man at the computer hisses at the attack on his eyes.

“You shouldn’t sit in the dark so much, hyung. You’re going to get bad eyesight,” Jimin teases. He tries to let go of Jungkook’s hand, but the younger tightens his fingers around him.


“When’s the last time you got some sunlight?” Jimin absently brings their intertwined hands up to his chest and rubs the back of Jungkook’s wrist to calm him.

“I didn’t invite you here to lecture me about my habits,” the other man grumbles. His chair finally turns and Jungkook gets to see him in the light.

Although his choice of indoor decoration was…questionable, and rather adorable if not a tad creepy, Jungkook finds that seeing mystery caller’s appearance for the first time confirms some of his theories. He’s not as intimidating as his call was, younger than he thought too. He’s handsome, tall when he stands up to his full height, and his stare holds enough power to make Jungkook straighten his spine.

“Nice to finally meet you,” the man greets Jungkook, pushing his hand through his blond hair.

“…Um…You too.” Jungkook steps forward, without releasing Jimin’s fingers, for a handshake.

“Kim Namjoon. I’m the one running this humble... organ -ization,” he introduces himself.

He blatantly ignores the way Jimin rolls his eyes, making a sound of displeasure. “Someone your age shouldn’t be making such disgraceful jokes…”

Unbothered, Namjoon continues. “I know you’ve met Taehyung, but before you meet any of the others, I think it’s best I talk with you first.”

Jungkook glances at the monitors behind Namjoon, blinking at all the security footage of random streets and roads. “Organization?” he asks, averting his eyes.

“We call it SWAG: Slaughter. Worthless. Assholes. Get paaaaaid . Well, haven’t gotten paid much lately since our killa disappeared on a honeymoon without alerting me first,” Namjoon accuses, crossing his arms and pursing his thick lips.

“None of us ever call it that. Except Taehyung, but that’s to be expected,” Jimin snorts softly. “Also, you have cameras everywhere, hyung. I’m surprised you didn’t catch me leaving."

Namjoon makes a disgruntled noise. “I thought you would be back a month or so later, like you always do. You didn’t tell me a thing. I checked all of my cameras, called all my contacts within Busan to see if they’d witnessed you wandering around, but nothing.”

“I’m glad you care, Namjoonie-hyung,” Jimin replies with a cheeky grin.

“Don’t push your luck, kid. You’ll be working your ass off for the next month to restock our supply,” Namjoon snaps, walking passed them to get to the living room. “I have a list for you in the other room. Hoseok has been calling me nonstop about how he doesn’t have an excuse to go see Yoongi for the supplies.”

Jimin nods silently. He turns to Jungkook briefly and gets on his toes to peck him sweetly on the lips. He eventually pries Jungkook’s fingers away from his to jog after Namjoon, leaving Jungkook all by his lonesome in the control room.

Out of boredom and curiosity, he begins to wander, keeping an ear out for Jimin and Namjoon in case they come back while he was in the middle of snooping. For a man that has a high security system, Namjoon sure has no problems leaving a newbie on his own. Jungkook doesn’t think twice about it when he gravitates towards the control system. A machine full of buttons and switches that Jungkook doesn’t even try to figure out. His experience with electronics is limited to gaming systems. His attention turns to the filing cabinets not long after, to the files that stick messily out from within each compartment. The individual drawers are labelled: ‘Background checks’, ‘Contacts’, and, ‘Police activity’.

Jungkook raises his eyebrows at the top drawer. Before he does anything else, he glances down the corridor for any signs of Jimin and Namjoon, then quietly opens the compartment.

Manila folders line up neatly within. He recognises a few names that have only been mentioned. Yoongi and Hoseok. They all seem to be in some sort of order. Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jung Hoseok, and lastly, Jeon Jungkook.

Obviously, Jimin’s file is all he cares about. He knows Namjoon has information on him, with all these cameras and all the information he’s sure Namjoon can obtain, there isn’t anything in his file that is worth looking over. Jimin on the other hand… There must be a few things in there that even his fiancé doesn’t know about. If this is the challenge that Namjoon was speaking of, it was immensely simple. Maybe too simple, but Jungkook will take whatever he can get.

There isn’t any time for him to look through it though, because just then he hears Jimin and Namjoon coming down the hallway. So, he tucks the file into the inner pocket of his jacket, and closes the drawer softly before stepping back into the middle of the room.

Once they return, Namjoon doesn’t even spare Jungkook a glance as he walks back to his desk chair and sits down. Jimin, however, strides straight over to him, grinning upon being welcomed back with opened arms. Jungkook beams back at him and leans down to kiss each of his cheeks. Whether Jimin feels the file in his pocket or not, he doesn’t bring it up, and instead snuggles back into Jungkook’s chest, his arms tight around the younger’s waist.

“We were away for ten minutes, not ten years. Break it up,” Namjoon scoffs.

“Wasn’t there something you were supposed to tell Jungkook, hyung?” Jimin prompts, making no move to let go of Jungkook at all.

“Right, right,” Namjoon murmurs, crossing his legs and his arms to look more imposing. “Look, Jungkook-ssi…I assume it’s somewhat daunting to be thrown into this so suddenly, so I’ll take it slow, but you’re not a child so I won’t be beating around the bush about things.”

Jungkook nods. He can respect that, and he appreciates Namjoon not looking down on him.

“We’re an organ trafficking organisation. A unit, a team, or a gang, or whatever you wanna call us.” Namjoon waves his hand in dismissal. “Our business is within the black market. As you know, being associated with us alone is breaking a few laws. Being a part of the team, you’re breaking enough laws to land time in jail for most of your life. If you’re killing with Jimin... I mean, first degree murder is 25 to 60 years or even life in prison. But with how many bodies you guys go through, you’re most definitely looking at execution. Just so you know the facts.” He shrugs.

The younger glances down at Jimin, sees the way his fiancé is so composed, so calm as he nuzzles his cheek against the crook of Jungkook’s neck. He imagines Jimin going to jail, spending his life in a place that would crush his spirit. That’s no place for his love to be. They’ll be separated, and Jungkook isn’t so sure if he can live with that. However, the second he locks eyes with Jimin, sees the same intensity in them that he’s sure is reflected in his, he knows they’ll die together. They’re not going to be kept apart. Jungkook would kill his way through the whole of Seoul to get back to Jimin, he likes to think that Jimin would do the same for him.

“Kid…I’m putting a lot of trust in what Jimin has told me,” Namjoon says, his face stoic. “If Jimin didn’t trust you, then I wouldn’t have let you come here. If Jimin wanted to kill you, he would’ve done it on the first night he met you, so from that alone, I’ll say you’re pretty trustworthy. And I have faith that you won’t cause any trouble for us. If you do anything whatsoever to jeopardize this operation, you’re both out. I’ll throw you right to the dogs. Keep your nose clean, and you won’t have any problems. You’ll fit right in.”

“He’ll be fine, hyung. Won’t you, baby?” Jimin loops his arms around Jungkook’s neck, almost hanging off him.

Jungkook chuckles, giving a confident nod. “I’ll be fine.”

He can tell that it’s getting more difficult for the older man not to roll his eyes. “If you understand that, then let me tell you about the other members of the team.” Namjoon is kind enough to give them some time. He waits for Jungkook to give him his full attention again.


“Min Yoongi, our hyungnim, the second oldest member. He conducts all the laboratory testing for infections, punctures, and other lacerations in the organs you’ll be delivering. He also handles the banking and the distribution of the paycheques. If there was ever a time to control your anger, I believe it would be now. We can’t afford wasting precious merch.” At this, Namjoon gives Jungkook a pointed look.

“I understand…” Jungkook replies reluctantly, as Jimin giggles and kisses along his jawline in comfort.

“Yoongi is a little…hard to approach, but you’ll find that out for yourself,” Namjoon smirks, seemingly giddy at the thought of Jungkook meeting this Yoongi.

“Now, our oldest member. Kim Seokjin. He handles the destruction of evidence, meaning, the bodies. If there’s a mess that cannot be cleaned, he’ll be on the scene to help,” Namjoon explains. “He shares a building with Yoongi. They have a…different sort of partnership compared to you two. They usually stick to their own things. Yoongi doesn’t handle the corpses, likes to keep things clean. Seokjin-hyung is a man that can…melt all your problems away.”

“That was bad,” Jimin laughs nonetheless. “You’ve been hanging out with Seokjin-hyung too much.”

“Shut up,” Namjoon retorts. “Anyway…you’ve met Taehyung. He’s our resident actor. Has the right looks and charisma to draw in any idiot with a dying family member to direct them right to Hoseok, who is our main salesman. That man can sell anything, from a bag of chips to a pancreas. Jung Hoseok, or J-Hope, if you prefer his alias.”

Jungkook hums and nods along as he listens, absentmindedly rubbing his hands up and down Jimin’s back while his lover nuzzles and cuddles warmly against him. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Namjoon smiles slyly.

“Well, don’t I get to know what you do, hyung?” Jungkook replies with his own smirk.

Namjoon’s eyebrows shoot up. He gestures towards his monitors as if to say ‘look around’. “This is what I do, kid. I keep track of you. I keep you out of trouble, I make sure the police aren’t after your asses. I handle the documents, the I.Ds, the passports, and transport papers. I may not be out there doing jobs, but I’m still making sure none of you get killed, or worse, arrested.”

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Jimin pipes up, resting his cheek over Jungkook’s collarbone so he can look over at Namjoon. “He’s got it all figured out. You know, I tried to kill Namjoon-hyung when I first met him. I’m glad I kept him alive though.”

Namjoon scoffs again. “You’d be nowhere without me, you little punk.”

Jungkook clears his throat, feeling left out once again. “So, is that all you had to tell me?”

“Hm? Oh, fuck no,” Namjoon shakes his head. “Look, just because the boss says it’s okay for you to stay, that doesn’t mean shit. The rest of SWAG must agree too. I’ll hear what they have to say about you once you meet them. Taehyung finds you pleasant enough. Says you need anger management class though, but who knows, maybe that will be used to our advantage.”

Jungkook peers down at Jimin again, feeling the weight of the manila folder in his jacket pocket become significantly heavier.

“There isn’t anything dire you should know. Follow Jimin’s lead, and once you get the hang of it, you might be able to handle it all on your own like a big boy,” Namjoon teases. “Jungkook-ah, all you need to do is to prove that you’re valuable enough to keep around. If the others see no use in you, then let’s hope that Jimin can convince them.”

It’s not as overwhelming as one would think. Nothing surprises him anymore. In fact, it makes sense for Jimin to be part of an organ trafficking gang. He finally has his answer for how Jimin earns his money. Puzzle pieces are coming together, yet Jungkook doesn’t give a damn about it. Nothing will change. He’ll keep on killing with Jimin. Although he may have to be cautious about his techniques, nothing has to change. It’ll still be him and Jimin. Once he makes a good impression on the others, there won’t be anything else to worry about. Nothing. Has. To. Change.

“I understand,” he repeats.

“Great!” Namjoon exclaims with a delighted clap. “Any questions?”

Jungkook shakes his head no.


Not a minute later, Namjoon is leading them out to the living room for a few drinks. He briefs Jimin on what organs they’re in urgent need of, on Yoongi’s request, while trying not to stare too much at the way Jimin sits in Jungkook’s lap on the couch. Jungkook doesn’t listen too much to the conversation, far too invested in playing with Jimin’s hair to participate. If it doesn’t concern him, then he sees no reason that he can’t continue to fiddle with Jimin’s hair, or his shirt, or his small hands. Jungkook loves his hands, adores how short they are compared to his own, how warm they are when he holds them. He thinks nothing of their previous conversations. He doesn’t consider it too important. Regardless of how the other members will see him, Jimin would not leave him, and vice versa. To him, how nicely Jimin’s fingers lace with his own, is the most important thing in the world.

Approaching midnight, Taehyung enters. Jungkook is surprised to see him there because he hears no door opening at all. The man brightens up the room instantly, his wide grin enough to dissipate any tension. Jimin and Namjoon are especially happy to see him. Jungkook doesn’t move to greet him, is perfectly content to wrap himself around his fiancé on the couch, the older man’s back flush to his chest, his hands splayed over his stomach - keeping him safe and close.

“Ahh, you two are still as cute as ever. Kinda gross though,” Taehyung chirps, taking a seat right next to Namjoon on the loveseat, knees brushing.

“You’re gross,” Jimin throws back childishly.

Taehyung laughs but doesn’t debunk it. “Oh! I heard Jungkookie is finally part of SWAG-”

“Not yet,” Namjoon tries to cut in.

“Don’t call it that,” Jimin follows quickly.

“Let’s celebrate!” Taehyung continues as if Namjoon and Jimin did not say a word. “Let’s get more beers!”

It’s not a good idea to allow Taehyung to convince them to drink until one of them blacks out. One of them being Namjoon, who, at exactly 3am, falls to the side on the couch and promptly falls asleep, a thunderous snore leaving him seconds later. Taehyung is also on the verge of passing out, leaving Jungkook with an intoxicated, horny Jimin in his lap, to contemplate how he’s gotten here.

At what point in his life did he ever think that he would have a serial killer sucking at his neck, while still in the presence of two people in a gang that kills and sells organs in the black market. But Jungkook is no better. He’s just as, if not more horny than Jimin is, not a care in the world for who witnesses him shoving his hands up the back of Jimin’s sweater. Taehyung definitely isn’t paying attention, preferring to shove snacks into his mouth as he flicks through the channels on the television, his nose nearly brushing the screen like an excitable child.

“Jungkookie...” Jimin moans into his mouth, hot tongue laving over his lips. “Want you…”

“F-Fuck…we can’t here, Jiminie-hyung. Taehyung is still here,” Jungkook groans, flexing his hips in search of more friction, his cock straining against his boxers and the denim of his jeans. Everything feels too tight.

“He won’t mind,” Jimin slurs with a giggle. “Just fuck me quietly and he won’t even notice.” He raises his hand and makes a shushing motion.

Jungkook laughs gruffly. “I may be into a lot of shit, but fucking in front of your friend, who we’ll see often doesn’t sound appealing.”

“Spoil sport…” Jimin pouts, grinding his ass down to meet the tent in Jungkook’s jeans. “Also, don’t think I’m not aware of the file you stole from Namjoon-hyung. You little shit…”

Jungkook stills for a moment, staring down at Jimin’s cherry red lips, shiny with their shared saliva. “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

“Who says I was going to do anything?” Jimin goes back to sucking bruises into his jaw, hand fisting in Jungkook’s hair to keep his head at an angle. “You weren’t very subtle about it though.”

“Subtlety isn’t really my thing…” Jungkook breathes, closing his eyes.

Jimin snickers quietly, lifting up on his knees to shove his tongue back into Jungkook’s mouth, hovering over the younger as the kiss turns sloppy with the bitter taste of alcohol.

It’s a change to be in a different environment, a place that they can feel at home. Jungkook is still trying to get accustomed to feeling safe in places other than in Jimin’s arms, but Namjoon’s safe house is probably the closest thing he’ll get to being secure. He can get used to this, get used to having ‘friends’, to having people that share the same interests, have the same agenda.

Jungkook finds himself yearning for an ordinary life with Jimin less and less. He thinks he likes this better.

Chapter Text

The stolen manila folder goes unread for a few weeks, though not forgotten. Always at the back of his mind, Jungkook opens and closes the secret inner pocket of his duffle bag every morning to check to see that it was still there for him to come back to. Jimin doesn’t bring it up, only gives Jungkook an amused expression whenever he sneaks away as though his fiancé has no knowledge of it. Jimin doesn’t pry either, he’s curious about what his lover will do, but he doesn’t bother to pester Jungkook about it. Jungkook can see it in Jimin’s smile that he knows what he has taken. From the lack of phone calls, Namjoon doesn’t seem to care either. Unless of course he hasn’t yet realised that the file is missing.

Thievery is one of the few skills Jungkook hasn’t yet mastered. And really, there isn’t anything he can do that Jimin wouldn’t know about. The man can smell blood from a mile away and can detect bullshit within seconds. It makes it that much harder for Jungkook to lie. It doesn’t help how much effort it takes for Jungkook to interpret his expressions at times too. If he was angry about Jungkook reading his private information, he wasn’t showing any signs of it now. This must have been planned. Though Jimin will preach about going with the flow, he can be exceptionally methodical when the time calls for it. It wouldn’t be much of a reach to say that Jimin was putting Jungkook through a trial. He can understand that Jimin might want him to prove how far he’ll go for their relationship, but…why didn’t Jimin just tell him? Instead of being cryptic about it. It would’ve saved Jungkook all the time he wasted on worrying.

Whatever is in that file better be fucking important. If Jimin was going to make him jump through hoops just to get to know him more personally, it better be fucking worth it.

Christ, no wonder Jungkook is confused 24/7.

“You know…”

Jungkook’s eyes refocus as the sounds from his surroundings return little by little. Everything snaps back into place; Jimin’s lilting voice, the purring engine of the car he’s driving, the stillness of the streets at three in the morning. He isn’t sure how long he’s been spacing out, but Jimin has caught on that he isn’t paying attention.

“It’s less fun naming brands of bleach when you’re not listening,” Jimin says, eyes twinkling from the overhead street lights when they turn to him.

“Bleach?” Jungkook tilts his head.

“For the blood stains, baby,” the older man chuckles before he turns back to the road, the lights turning green. “You’re worrying about something. Want to talk about it?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “No. I’m good.”

Jimin hums unconvinced, but lets it slide. “Hey. I was thinking…maybe we should have a night in today. Namjoon-hyung didn’t say we had to make a kill every single night. So, let’s stay in tonight.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good…” Jungkook replies distractedly.

They pull up to the grocery store a minute after. It’s odd going shopping so early in the morning, but this was their normal. They’re both night owls, neither of them finding any sort of interaction with civilians during the day appealing.

Unfortunately, for the past few weeks, their nightly trips have become more of a luxury. After finding out that Jimin and Jungkook were living in a hotel (that wasn’t tracked with his cameras), Namjoon had them move into one of his apartments in Itaewon, providing them with a car along the way. Everything is under Namjoon’s name. None of it is theirs. They get a cosy two-bedroom, furnished and all ready for them to use, but not to own.

The rent is taken directly from Jimin’s paycheque. Since Jungkook hasn’t yet been fully welcomed into the team he doesn’t get any pay. At the very least, they have a place where they can call home, even if temporarily. The only setback is that Namjoon asks them to behave as boringly as possible. Well, he said ‘nicely’ but to Jungkook that’s just the equivalent of saying boring. That leads back to their obligation to be active during the daytime rather than night time. Though the move brings new exciting things, Jungkook isn’t positive he likes it that much. It somehow doesn’t feel right; they’re trying to force something, an image of ordinary domesticity that neither of them feel it’s the right time for. Nothing feels personal.

Though one thing has not changed.

To avoid suspicion, they’ve taken to carrying out kills in cheap motel rooms once again. Jimin will rent a room for a night, make the kill, clean up, then deposit the body. By morning, they head back home. Instead of storing food inside the refrigerator, they’ll put the coolers of organs in there to keep them preserved until they have the time to eventually visit Yoongi.

Their neighbours are tolerable. They keep to themselves just as Jimin and Jungkook do. They don’t talk, but both are aware that they have to keep up a certain impression. They’re students, introverted, and only silent due to the soundproof walls.

Namjoon had put a lot of things into consideration when he gave them the apartment.

“Hey, spacey,” Jimin giggles when Jungkook continues to stare blankly into the darkness after the car is parked. “You coming in with me or should I leave you to get on with your existential crisis?”

Jungkook shakes his head vigorously. “No, no! I’m coming in. Sorry.”

“Jungkook…you should talk to me if there’s something bothering you.” Jimin leans over and kisses his temple. “Is it the job? You know you don’t have to come with me for every single kill.”

“No. It’s not that,” Jungkook sighs. “It’s nothing, really. I’ll get over it.”


Jungkook does get over it. For a time.

He pushes the anxiety to the back of his mind in favour of wheeling Jimin around in the shopping cart as they buy snacks. The place is nearly deserted, and it’s late enough that the employees don’t give a flying fuck about what kind of commotion they make going down the aisles. Commotion meaning, Jungkook manically sprinting through the store, pushing a squealing Jimin from the fruit right up to the bakery section on the other side of the store. Jimin’s hair becomes so windswept that Jungkook laughs and cackles until he’s clutching his sides. Whatever worry that was causing Jungkook’s daze before is replaced by the surreal giddiness that only a 3am trip to the grocery store can make them feel.

“Don’t wiggle around so much, hyung. This isn’t made for an adult…” Jungkook sighs loudly. “I thought I was the younger one here.”

“You’re just jealous you don’t get to sit here,” Jimin murmurs with a complacent smirk.

It should be mentioned that they’re not the only children in the store. There are a few other young adults with them. A group of high school students, very drunk high school students. The couple pay them no mind. There is only one reason Jimin would give strangers his full attention. That reason being if they are a target. Jimin doesn’t kill teens, or kids. That’s the one unspoken rule they both have. Teenagers aren’t worth the hassle of creating heartbroken parents. Ah, but that doesn’t mean Jimin has never been tempted to. Especially now, when they’re yelling and stealing items when the employees aren’t looking. Jimin wonders what the repercussions were if he just scares them a bit.

“Leave ‘em alone, hyung. They’re just kids. I was their age a few years ago,” Jungkook pauses by the baked goods selection to give Jimin a look.

“That’s cute. You’re acting like an adult,” Jimin coos. “But you’re still my baby.” The adrenaline and lingering laughter goes straight to his head. He’s more loose than he typically is, and that does not bode well for Jungkook. The first sign of trouble is Jimin scooting further up the cart, the wheels squeaking against the floor, to grab a fistful of Jungkook’s shirt.

Jungkook freezes up, so Jimin gives another tug to make him lean down for a kiss.

“Whoa, whoa. Think of where we are, hyung,” Jungkook chastises.

Jimin makes a noise that’s caught between a whine and an annoyed grunt. “You’ve never cared about that before. Just kiss me.”

“I know you. A kiss can turn into a lot of things with you,” the younger shakes his head, hands coming around to rest on each side of the cart.

“No one will come here. So what if you fuck me a little,” Jimin pouts.

“Is that all I am to you? Some good dick?” Jungkook grumbles in mock hurt.

Jimin snickers. “You’re so much more than that, baby. You know I love your ass too.” With a triumphant smirk, he draws Jungkook in, lips connecting in a sugary kiss.

It’s just them in the aisle. Except for the distant sound of drunken high school kids stumbling against the shelves in the next aisle over, Jungkook and Jimin are the only ones in the universe as far as they know. The employees couldn’t care less about them, too tired or just too lazy to come and investigate the mess they’ve made. Jungkook has piled up an excessive number of snacks within their cart, his fiancé surrounded by various flavours of chips, candies, sodas, and chocolate. They’re making a colourful disaster – they’re eating like middle school children without a care for cavities.

“Have you been licking frosting off the cupcakes?” Jungkook mutters against his lips, pulling back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Keeping a tight grasp on Jungkook’s shirt so that he’s leaning over the cart, Jimin reaches behind him and retrieves the half-eaten cupcake from a box of other frosted confectionery. He kittenishly licks off some of the creamy icing from the tips of his fingers before he’s sliding the rest of the cupcake into Jungkook’s mouth. His younger lover scrunches up his nose in surprise, unable to really close his lips around the piece of spongy cake. The frosting smears over the corners of his lips, and Jimin wastes no time in craning his neck up to lick that up too. They drop crumbs everywhere, including on Jimin’s lap, but Jungkook has a mouthful of cupcake, with Jimin watching him as though he was about to devour him whole, he’s not thinking about the crumbs.

Evidently, that’s not the only mess that Jimin wants to make, if his look of shameless hunger is anything to go by, because he’s reaching back again. This time, he doesn’t bring another cupcake, his fingers return coated in vanilla icing again, which he doesn’t hesitate to bring up to Jungkook’s lips once he swallows. Cock twitching in vain at the sight of Jimin shifting closer, Jungkook eagerly opens his mouth to suck on his ring finger. The flavour is gentle on his palate, more mellow than the overly sugary icing on the last cupcake. Or did he just like the taste of Jimin more?

Although most of it gets on his cheeks and his chin, Jimin takes care of that before he’s taking in the fingers that Jungkook hasn’t already cleaned. Everything is too wet, and too sticky between their mingling tongues. Truthfully, it should be gross, but he’s never stopped wanting a taste of Jimin before, so why stop now? It takes all of Jungkook to remind himself that he needs to breathe. He can tell Jimin is having an equally rough time, because his chest is heaving so much it almost touches Jungkook’s. So far gone, Jungkook tongues around Jimin’s middle finger, dragging a breathless moan out from the older man with each stroke.

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you fucking kiss me,” Jungkook whispers, moving onto the other few digits that are still tacky with frosting.

“More…Jungkookie…I want more…” Jimin grabs him by the back of the neck till their lips collide, his hand falling away. It’s painful when their teeth clack together, but that doesn’t stop Jimin from sliding his tongue over Jungkook’s to drown in vanilla.

When they come down from their short pleasure high, their foreheads meet to rest together, eyes wide open, panting into each other’s mouths. Both sufficiently hard in their jeans now, Jungkook almost resorts to dry humping the front of the shopping cart to relieve some of the pain, while Jimin presses his clean palm against his crotch. There are cameras in every aisle so they shouldn’t be doing this in public, but when was the last time Jimin ever gave a shit about being good. Besides, fucking in the middle of a supermarket wouldn’t be the worst thing they’ve ever done. It’s minor compared to their other crimes, and Jimin just really wants to eat frosting off Jungkook’s dick. That shouldn’t be too much to ask for.

“We should get back to the apartment first, Jimin-hyung,” Jungkook murmurs, his breath fanning over Jimin’s cheek.

“Alright,” Jimin relents. “Gotta pay first before they call the cops.”

Jungkook nods in agreement and helps Jimin out of the cart, catching him around the waist when Jimin stumbles out. The older man laughs deliriously in his ear, his arms never leaving from around Jungkook’s shoulders even when his feet touch the ground. They’re both still somewhat sticky, but before they can leave to take a well-deserved shower, they go to pay for their snacks.

At the register, they find that the group of teenagers have switched from wreaking havoc in the aisles to harassing the only employee at the registers. Jungkook watches them with furrowing eyebrows and pursing lips. He’s so easily riled up, and Jimin can see that he’s also becoming tired of their antics despite how he ‘had also been a teenager a few years ago’. The older man can relate this time, he knows just how much customer service can suck the life out of someone, and he has to sympathise with the poor kid who’s manning the place all by herself in the middle of the night. What’s worse is that she’s a very small young girl. Although Jimin doesn’t want to assume that she cannot take care of herself, she’s being surrounded by boys twice her size. It’s a familiar scene. It’s the same tactic that most men use on him when they think he’s some lost, helpless little lamb. It creates that stormy feeling deep in his gut when it really shouldn’t. He’s been dealing with the same sort of disrespect for years, yet seeing this young girl be pestered makes him swell up with disgust.

“-what do you say? How about we get out of here?” one of the teens leer.

The girl splutters and wrings her hands. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t…”

“Come on… It’ll be fine. It’s late. A girl like you shouldn’t be here on your own. We could walk you home?”

When the girl shakes her head, Jimin notices the patience drain from the boy’s face. “What do you want? Money? Is that what it’ll fucking take?”


Jimin’s head snaps to Jungkook, whose voice rises in anger.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? She obviously said no. Do you know what ‘no’ means?” the younger sneers. The young boys turn to them slowly, their female companions giggling behind them. “She’s a person. Have some fucking respect.”

“Who asked you, fucker? Stay out of business that doesn’t concern you!” One poor brave boy speaks up. He’s leaning over the counter to the girl at the register, causing her to recline away in fright. He’s about a head taller than her, dressed in tacky camouflage print clothing. To top off such an ensemble he has a black headband peeking out from behind his greasy brown hair, and looking at the rest of the boys, Jimin realises they’re all dressed similarly. He feels as though he’s been transported back to 2008.  

“It does concern me when you’re harassing the only employee here at 3am. Unlike you, I have things to pay for,” Jungkook retorts.

Jimin stays quiet. He wants to know how Jungkook will handle this sort of predicament. Then again, to Jungkook it may not be a problem at all. Knowing Jungkook, knowing the reason for his first kill, he doubts his fiancé will let this go on.

Unlike Jungkook, who is quick to take action, quick to raise his voice, quick to show his anger, Jimin seethes silently. He feels something akin to rage and repulsion in his gut. He’s better than this, he reprimands himself. He kills, he tortures, and he harvests organs from innocent people, all the while keeping the utmost composure. A bunch of fucking drunk high school kids shouldn’t make him want to break something. That’s not his way of handling his temper. They’re not worth his time. He doesn’t kill kids, he reminds himself.

He wants this to be over with. He’s not obligated to deal with this in the first place. He refuses to let this be the thing that brings down his mood. He can walk away right now, he can leave the girl to fend for herself, but…he knows Jungkook won’t. His fiancé is too ridiculously chivalrous to turn his back. He may be as much of a murderer as Jimin, but Jungkook still has some good in him that Jimin hopes will never die. He still has some of his morals intact. Jimin doesn’t even think twice about it, he’s happy to know that Jungkook maintains a small amount of goodness in him. It depends on their future whether that goodness will be snuffed out.

“What are you kids doing out this late, anyway? Shouldn’t you be home, disappointing your parents?” Jungkook smiles condescendingly.

“Fuck you! Who the hell do you think you are?!” one of the other boys yells, a red flush of rage crawling up his neck.

“I’m the guy who’s going to kick your ass if you don’t step away and let me pay for my damn snacks,” Jungkook sighs, leaning lazily over the handlebar of the shopping cart.

“Oh yeah?! You wanna go?!” another one of them shouts, stepping out from behind his friends. “I’ll fuck you up, bro!”

“Should you really be picking fights, kid?” Jungkook snorts.

As his friend starts towards Jungkook to make good on his threat, one of the other boys throws out his arm to stop him. Instead of being all for a fight, his eyes catch Jimin’s from his place slightly behind Jungkook.

Some sadistic part of him wants to mess with them, the other part of him…the less sadistic part, wants to end this conversation quickly. Naturally, his sadism wins out. It’s wrong of him to risk riling Jungkook up. His fiancé has such a temper, and he hopes that they won’t get arrested after this, but some kids have to be taught the hard way. Sadly, for them, Jimin is feeling particularly spiteful, sick to his stomach, and furious. It typically takes more than a few words, and a few actions for Jimin to feel like the smallest person in the world. These boys aren’t exactly the most threatening either, but the sight of them attempting to lure away an unprotected young girl leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

If years of fending for himself has taught him anything, it would be that manipulation is everything for people like him. Manipulation and bottling up years of fury. Luckily, both come easy to Jimin.

“Whoa, you ever seen someone like that before?” he smirks to his group, cackling when Jimin cowers away against Jungkook’s much larger frame.

All it takes is just one act of submission and people believe that he’s a meek little thing. A few nervous glances to the floor, a couple of lip bites and a show of cowering behind his big bad boyfriend, they think that he’ll be compliant. Jimin should be ashamed about messing with a bunch of kids. He really, really should.

“So...pretty…” The first boy coos mockingly at Jimin, who tucks himself further against Jungkook’s side, playing shy. “Prettier than a fucking girl. What does it take to fuck a little twink like that?” The group snickers to themselves.

Jimin isn’t sure who throws the first punch - it’s very likely Jungkook. All he knows is to step away and let things run its course. In the meantime, he piles their snacks onto the counter and encourages the young girl to bag up their items with a strained smile. She does so, her hands trembling, her eyes drifting over to the scuffle just a few feet away from them with every cry of pain that rings through the store. Feeling bad that she would have to clean up all the shelves that have been knocked down by Jungkook, he tells her to keep the change. Once he has all the bags, he waits for Jungkook by the exit, exhaling loudly as a reminder that he wasn’t going to wait forever. Jungkook glances up, eyes searching for Jimin. Once they land on him, he hastily finishes up, growling something at the beaten teenagers on the floor before stomping away. As if snapping back to their senses, the girls dash over to their fallen classmates, yelling at Jungkook’s back about how they were going to sue him.

“Yeah, good luck finding me,” Jungkook snorts, winding his arm around Jimin’s waist to lead him out.  


Long after they’ve left the store, the unease continues to curl tight in Jimin’s chest. He was doing perfectly fine before. Effortlessly composed, calm, and secure. Now the strings have come loose and it’s like all the demons he’s ever locked away are spilling forth. Jungkook glances at him in worry every few seconds on the drive home, Jimin ignoring him to the best of his ability because he’s not ready for that kind of conversation. Of course, he knows it’s coming, has known since Jungkook stole his file from Namjoon’s office. Luckily, he’s keeping Jungkook busy enough that he doesn’t have the opportunity to read any of it. The file has put a strain on Jimin for the past couples of weeks. Although he displays nothing but patience and understanding, he’s worried to death about how Jungkook will react to the information.

He’s slowly cracking.

“Hyung,” Jungkook calls from the passenger seat, his hand coming to rest on Jimin’s thigh. “Are you alright?”

Jimin’s shoulders relax, the warmth of Jungkook’s palm acting as an anchor. “Yeah, of course. Why?”

He sees the younger shrug from the corner of his eye. “You just seemed tense ever since we walked out of the store. Are you worried about the girl?”

At this, Jimin shakes his head. He allows himself a minute of composition, then speaks. “No. You gave those guys enough of a beating to last them a lifetime. They won’t be moving to do anything.”

“Then what’s the matter?” Jungkook cocks his head at him.

Jimin wants to turn to him, to look at him, but he can’t. Not just because he’s driving but because he doesn’t want Jungkook to see the beginnings of a breakdown slowly creeping over Jimin’s mask. “It’s nothing, baby. Maybe I’m just tired.”

You’re tired? I just beat up three high school kids,” Jungkook groans, stretching out like a cat in his seat.

“Well, that wasn’t my fault,” Jimin laughs. “You just had to be a gentleman…” he sighs.

“I don’t fuck around with scumbags like that,” Jungkook says in a sombre tone. When Jimin peers at him out of curiosity, he sees how genuinely serious Jungkook is about it. He appreciates that to some degree – he appreciates that Jungkook continues to have the right beliefs. “It pisses me off. I mean, okay, a lot of things piss me off, but… Damn, it’s basic human decency or something!”

“That happens way too much, right?” the younger shakes his head in disapproval. “Even when I was in college I’d hear about these girls, and sometimes guys, being raped. Then it’s like...fuck, I don’t know, like their lives are over. The worst part is that they don’t say anything about it! Yeah, okay, I get that it’s scary ass thing to do, but isn’t it better to tell someone so you can get the proper help?”


His fiancé passionately continues, probably not catching onto the broken call of his name Jimin makes in protest. “I really just don’t get it. It’s not like it’s their fault. But you keep quiet for the rapists or whatever the fuck? I just... Why protect assholes like that? I would’ve killed them long before they could even put a finger on me. It’s disgusting. I wish we had some sort of list of those fuckers, get rid of them once and for all.”

“Some can’t protect themselves,” Jimin adds quietly, his grip on the steering wheel tight enough that his palms begin to hurt.

Somehow, lost in his own rant, Jungkook doesn’t notice the distress steadily seeping through in Jimin’s posture. “And then there’s the dumb fucks that talk shit about the victim, like it’s their fucking fault. Call them dirty, and corrupt, and tainted, and unworthy of love, and all that bullshit! Are you kidding me?! That kind of talk…”


Jungkook’s voice fades to an unintelligible hum, and Jimin feels like he’s falling. His eyes cloud over, unseeing at the road. The younger man’s words play like a broken record in his mind, repeating just loud enough to drive him to insanity. It creates this suffocating feeling, squeezing at his chest, stopping his airflow. His heartbeat picks up an abnormal speed. Everything is too much, too tight, and the walls of the car begin to close in on him too quickly.


Why today of all days? Why this night? Why him? Why doesn’t Jungkook stop talking? He wants to claw at his own skull as though that would be the solution to stop it all. He wants to pluck every one of those words out of his mind, cram something else in its stead. This is all…too much too fast. It’s a ripple effect. It starts with one word and the rest follows.


Jimin’s skin crawls. His vision suddenly blurs, and his first instinct is to slam his foot down on the breaks. That’s one effective way to shut Jungkook up. Thankfully, he stops half-way down the street of their neighbourhood, habit successfully taking him there. There are no other cars around but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have hit something if he didn’t stop when he did. Jungkook asks him something, his tone pitching higher due to the shock. Jimin hears the concern in his voice but his words go in one ear and out the other. When he tries to touch his shoulder, Jimin violently reels back, slamming up against the car door. Jungkook makes a startled shout, attempting to reach for him again to check if he’s alright.

Unworthy of love.

If those words did not ring true before, then they certainly did now.

“Jimin…” Jungkook’s face appears in focus again, hovering over him. His brows knit in worry, lips set in a grim line.

His stance isn’t threatening, or imposing, it’s cautious and comforting, but Jimin however feels that he would only soil it if he leans into it. He stains everything he touches. He stains the floor and walls red with his anger, he stains his clothes when he gets too violent, he stains Jungkook by allowing him to kill, by allowing him to be close, to touch him, to kiss and love him. He’s filthy, defiled. He’s dirty. Jungkook…Jungkook is clean.

“Jimin-hyung…” Jungkook cups each of his cheeks, turning his face up to make eye contact. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Jimin clenches his eyes shut, and does what he always does; he shoves it all back in and hopes that it will not resurface again until they get into the apartment. “I’m alright. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, love,” he apologises, leaning up to place a small kiss to the corner of Jungkook’s mouth. “Let’s get back, we shouldn’t stop here.”

Jimin drives the rest of the way in silence. Jungkook doesn’t dare to speak either, though now he’s more anxious than ever. No words are exchanged when they park and carry the bags inside. Jimin doesn’t look at Jungkook when he sets down the snacks on their kitchen counter, not moving for a solid five minutes as Jungkook locks up. The tension causes the apartment to become claustrophobic, choking out any opportunity for Jimin to rid himself of the phantom touch of foul hands on his shoulders, his arms, his chest, his stomach, and hips. They grip him too tight, pull at his skin, tear into his insides. They mistreat him – big hands that use and abuse. Not like Jungkook. Never like Jungkook. Jungkook holds him like he’s the most precious thing in the world, he caresses, and kisses, and presses adoring words into his palms when they rest on his cheek. However, even that will not cure the sickness in his belly.

“Jimin.” Jungkook stops behind him. He doesn’t touch, or move too fast. He stands there long enough for Jimin to know that he has support.

“You want to know what’s in that file.” Jimin’s voice breaks, it’s barely above a whisper.

Jungkook shuffles on his feet in discomfort. “That’s not important right now. I want to know if you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” his tone dips, raspy, and gruff, like he hasn’t used it in so long. “You want to know what’s in that file, don’t you, Jungkookie?” The older man pivots around to face Jungkook, eyes too dead and cold for the younger to recognise him. They’re dull, emotionless, devoid of any warmth that Jungkook would once find comfort in.

“I…I don’t care about that right now,” Jungkook denies, stepping back once. “Please, hyung. Talk to me. What’s going on? Did I say something to piss you off?”

Jimin slumps back against the edge of the counter, his bangs hanging low over his eyes. “No. No, you’re the only one who could never piss me off, Jungkook. Your kindness on the other hand can be a little annoying,” he smiles bitterly.

“…My kindness…”

“Yes, your kindness. Your stupid ass fucking way of being a good person even though you’re a killer,” Jimin scowls, his nose wrinkling slightly in agitation, in growing anger. “How do you do it? How can you still be so nice to a random employee at a supermarket after what I’ve put you through? Huh, Jungkook? Answer me that.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows pinch further in bafflement. “What you put me through? If I recall, I was the one to agree when you suggested we travel. I was the one that fell in love with you willingly, hyung. Oh and let’s not forget that I killed a man before I met you. Don’t be so fucking full of yourself, you didn’t put me through anything I didn’t want.”

Pressing his lips tightly together in annoyance, Jimin pushes away from the counter. Rather than go to Jungkook like the younger thinks he will, Jimin stalks out of the kitchen, into the living room. Jungkook follows him, jogging to catch up.

“Hyung, what is this about?! Why are you behaving this way?” Jungkook catches his wrist, holding on with tentative fingers.

For a second, Jimin neither moves nor speaks. He’s as still as a statue, facing away from Jungkook. “Go get the file.”


“I said,” he takes a deep breath. “Go get the file. You wanted to know everything about me? Then I’ll tell you everything about me.”

“T-That can wait. We can wait. I want to make sure you’re alright,” Jungkook insists, but gets lightly shoved away for his efforts.

“Jungkook-ah. I said to go get the file.” Jimin tells him again, nudging him towards the bedroom. This is not the sort of anger that Jungkook has ever seen on Jimin’s face before. This is a whole new, different kind of wrath. It’s quiet, barely restrained. The sort that terrifies him to no end when it’s from Jimin. Anger is a rarely seen emotion from his smaller fiancé. He suspects that’s because Jimin takes his frustrations out on their victims. For them, it’s probably the healthiest way to combat aggravation. Nonetheless, Jungkook hates seeing Jimin so angry, even if it’s not directed at him.

Obediently, Jungkook shuffles away to the master bedroom to emerge with the file in his hand. The manila folder is worn in the corners from Jungkook obsessively bending and flipping through the pages in temptation. He never reads any of it however, and puts it right back in its place when he’s done.

Upon returning to the living room, he spots Jimin curling in on himself on the couch, his knees tucking up to his chest. Jungkook has seen Jimin vulnerable a few times in the past year they’ve been together. When the world becomes too much, when the weight of it all comes crashing down too hard, he holds Jimin through his ugly sobs and cries with him. He doesn’t ask what gets Jimin to his breaking point. The first few months of being lovers, Jungkook considered Jimin to be the strongest person he knows. He loves the kill, finds pleasure in others’ suffering, yet he will ask Jungkook now and then if he’s a bad person. And Jungkook always replies the same. Yes. Of course, he is. They both are. It has him curious about Jimin’s mental state, and his own for accepting it.

“Jiminie-hyung…” Jungkook sinks to his knees before the couch. His first instinct is to touch him, though right now, he doesn’t believe it’s a good idea. He stays put, the file in his lap, his hands clasped on top of it.

“Open the file,” Jimin tells him, and Jungkook does, then waits. “The first page is my basic information: Park Jimin. Born 13th of October, 1995. Blood type A. I’m a Libra, blah blah blah. Son of Park Jun-Seo and Kim Su-Bin. One younger brother, Park Ji-Hyun. Turn to the next page.”

Jungkook skims over the basics, eyes scanning the page for any abnormalities, finding none. He flips the page over and is met with two pages of text.

“A report?” Jungkook looks back to Jimin for confirmation.

“A child services’ report,” Jimin nods. He’s robotic, as if he’s repeating a story for the millionth time. “It should say that my father left when I was five, and when Ji-Hyun was three. No reason for it, no warning, he just abandoned his wife and two sons. It’s almost as if he didn’t give a damn at all. What a shocker.”

Jungkook bites his lip. He can’t help that his eyes stray to Jimin’s face, his hyung too motionless. His head rests on one of the couch cushion, hair fanning delicately over his forehead. He looks like a corpse, too pallor to be healthy.

“Our father left us in a debt, if you can believe,” Jimin shrugs, his eyes looking beyond Jungkook. So empty and lost. “Ji-Hyun didn’t get to go to school, couldn’t afford it. So, I’d read him some of my books. It was...just me and him.”

Papers and books scatter over the small desk in a child’s room, said child’s wonder and curiosity creating a mess within that one corner. Though the house is quiet, muffled giggling fills the room for fleeting moments. Two children sit at the end of an unmade bed, sharing a book that they both hold in their hands. The older boy reads in a whisper, his smile crooked, his eyes periodically glancing at the bedroom door to check for any oncoming footsteps.

“Mother…” Jimin pauses. “She never wanted kids, but she’d loved my father too much. She gave him two children anyway. Two children she didn’t want, never loved, and would never care for. Then, when he abandoned us…she was pissed. You know…sometimes children are just born to have unfortunate parents.”

Pain is a frequent visitor in the Park household. There was a time where that wasn’t the case. Most families in the neighbourhood will think that the Parks are an introverted family, polite, and quiet. What they don’t see is how the two Park boys will wear long sleeved shirts every time they go out. They don’t see the way the oldest son will skip a meal just so his brother will be fed more. They don’t see the way the mother leers at her own children, the way she watches them leave the house to make sure that they come back, or the way she leaves marks on them as a reminder that they’re too dirty to be loved by anyone else.

“Ji-Hyun didn’t get what was happening. I didn’t explain it to him, I didn’t want to,” Jimin whispers. He has one hand hanging off the couch, making Jungkook want to reach out for him even more. “I...took most of it, but she was always angry. Angry at my dad, angry at us for being born, angry that she’d spent 5 years of her already oh so tragic life on a man who left her with the kids she had for him. Ji-Hyun was too young, so I took all the hits for him.”

Jungkook scoots closer, finally taking Jimin’s hand. The older man smiles ruefully, letting Jungkook cradle his small hand in his two larger ones.

“It usually starts with a few words, right? A few insults here and there,” he continues. “She’d only get violent when she drank. I’d hide Ji-Hyun in our bedroom closet, keep the door jammed with a chair until I got back. Strangely…she never yelled. Probably because she didn’t want our neighbours to hear, but at the time I thought she did it to terrify me.”

Verbal…physical, it’s all the same. Children who face abuse are said to turn out a little messed up. Children who have mothers that slap their cheeks rather than caress in paternal comfort are said to grow up to be adults that bruise easily. Jimin didn’t know that he was one of those children. Jimin didn’t understand the anger his mother held for him. He didn’t understand that when he grew up just a little more, she would touch him in more ways than with the intention of leaving physical wounds.

“The social workers didn’t get much out of me when they took me in. I didn’t tell them the whole thing,” Jimin explains, lacing his fingers with one of Jungkook’s hands. “Turn the page over and you’ll find Namjoon’s personal report. I was willing to talk this time.”

Jungkook flips the page again to see a handwritten paper. There’s a couple of pages more than the child services one, and he dreads to know what it will contain. “Jimin, you don’t have to keep talking if you don’t want to,” he reassures, squeezing his hand.

“No… You deserve to hear this from me,” Jimin mutters. His tone is flat and disconnected. The bags under his eyes have become so much more prominent too. Jungkook wishes he can kiss them away. “Namjoon’s report should start from the day dad left. Until my 13th birthday, it’s the same. In the child services report, it said my mother just had a drinking problem. Well, the bitch also gambled, a lot. We already had nothing. The only way I could feed Ji-Hyun was to steal some of her gambling money when she was passed out drunk. Then... Ji-Hyun got sick…”

Malnutrition was an enemy that Jimin didn’t think he’d ever meet. When Ji-Hyun befalls ill at the age of 6, his mother tells him to die – to do it quickly. Jimin does his best not to wail when he holds his younger brother in his arms at night, listening to the young boy weep into his shoulder about the cramp in his belly. Jimin would coo gently, sing him a song, read from the old children’s book that would once transport them to magical lands – to a better life. He did all he could manage, feed Ji-Hyun with the food he’d find in the garbage cans outside their neighbours’ houses at night. He’d rock the little boy to sleep on the dirty sheets of the bed they haven’t washed in years until Ji-Hyun’s cries go dull. When his brother falls asleep, Jimin will curl up beside him, hoping that the next day will bring them something better. But all it brings is a cold body of a sick little boy that didn’t have a chance to live passed his 6 th year. Jimin wakes up, shivering, asking his brother to pass the blanket only to be met with the stench of decay.

“…She didn’t do a thing about it. I thought I was doing okay, taking care of Ji-Hyun. I-I...that’s what big brothers do, right? T-They take care of their dongsaengs. But I failed that too, just like everything else.” For second time that night, Jimin’s voice cracks. His eyes turn misty with emotion, his chin trembling as tears threaten to fall. “S-She didn’t take him away until another few days.”

Staying quiet is what Jimin does best. He thinks she’ll take him away. He thinks that if he makes too much noise, she’ll know. He doesn’t want to say goodbye just yet. He needs a little more time with Ji-Hyun, because his brother deserves the best and Jimin hadn’t been the best… He wants to make it up to him. So, he holds him closer, ignores the smell of rot, and reads on from the storybook. Although his voice falters and cracks, he’ll look over at his little brother lying in their bed, enjoying the light summer sunshine as Jimin reads, and smiles gently at the way the light hits Ji-Hyun’s cheeks. If he imagines hard enough, he can see his cheeks turn rosy.

“I…I don’t remember where she took him. I wanted to bury him myself b-but she wouldn’t let me.”

Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, clutching Jimin’s hand that much tighter. “You did all you could. Ji-Hyun couldn’t have asked for a better brother than you, hyung.”

Five minutes. It takes Jimin five minutes to calm himself enough to carry on. “On my 13th birthday, I sat alone at a park after school. Wouldn’t even have remembered if Miss Jung hadn’t written the date on the board. I stayed out a little too late that day. I lost track of time, and when I eventually went home, it was already dark.”

His mother didn’t have a set time for her outbursts. It was all spontaneous and that’s what made it more horrifying to the child. She never gave him rules either, yet expects him to be home at a certain time, to behave a certain way. When Jimin arrives home after the sun has set, she’s livid. Having taken a few more shots of alcohol than she should have, she goes beyond hissing words and biting nails. Jimin doesn’t know what had changed, what made her look at her own son in a different light. However, the moment he feels her hands wander to places even he has never dared to touch, he knows his pleas won’t reach her. The last of his innocence dies with his shredded clothes, but he still has the energy to crawl away to the bathroom to scrub harshly at his skin to forget his mother’s hands on his body.

“She was…furious. Beyond furious, but… it’s not like she cared, like she ever loved me,” Jimin croaks. “After that night, I guess hitting me just wasn’t enough anymore.”

Jungkook holds his breath and hopes that Jimin’s next words won’t be what he’s thinking.

“I think...she realised I wasn’t necessarily a child anymore. She said…” Jimin closes his eyes then opens them again to brace himself. “She said I looked too much like dad. She said that I had to take responsibility for the heartbreak she went through when my father left us. It happened more often from then on. I didn’t understand what was happening until I learned about sex in school. Made me realise what my mother was doing.”

Rage and resentment pulses through Jungkook, but his hands remain gentle around Jimin’s.

“…You know what the worse part is about being that young? I still felt as though there was hope of her loving me,” Jimin wavers again, tears gathering until one falls from the corner of his eye, trailing down his temple to dot the cushion. “I thought that if I got good grades in school, if I did all the chores, if I cooked and cleaned… if I let her…she would love me.”

Jungkook is crying with him now. He pushes the file off his lap and climbs onto the couch to gather Jimin into his arms. The elder goes limp, cheek resting on his shoulder, tears soaking into Jungkook’s shirt.

“Why…Why did she do that to me? What did I do wrong?” Jimin sobs. “W-Was I bad?”

“No…No, no. God no, Jimin. You weren’t bad,” Jungkook hushes him softly, rubbing his back.

“Then why did mom have to hurt me like that?” the older man asks in a whimper. “W-Why did she let Ji-Hyun die?”

Jungkook doesn’t have an answer. His shoulders shake from both fury and sadness for Jimin. He understands now, he knows what has led Jimin to become this way, and it’s worse than he could’ve ever imagined.

“...use me… hurt me…” Jimin mumbles into his shirt.

“What? Hyung, what?” Jungkook looks down at him.

“T-The men she’d bring home…s-she’d let them... She would make them pay… S-She…” Jimin shivers violently, trembling and quivering so much in Jungkook’s arms he thinks he’s about to shake them both apart.

Hastily, Jungkook picks up the file from the floor and flicks through to the next pages. He skims over what Jimin has already told him, going passed the parts where it describes his mother’s sexual abuse in detail. Jungkook doesn’t have the stomach to read it, and that’s coming from a person who has scooped out a man’s heart more than once.

“Said they wanted to p-play... that my mother said they could…” Jimin clasps his hands over his head, fingernails digging into his scalp.

Childhood innocence can last for many years, but for Jimin it most likely was never there in the first place. Though, there was a purity to him. A child’s purity that convinced him his mother would change. That same purity that was wiped clean when strange men would come barging into his bedroom on his own mother’s permission. And even though he’d lost everything that made him a child, his mind created something else to protect him. A safe mental space. It was a place he would easily slip into when large, disgusting, filthy hands would clutch at his wrists and ankles too hard. It was the one place that Jimin felt serene in when his neck received new bruises, or when he’s crying face down against his pillow, hoping for the world to come save him.

A child can only handle so much, and Jimin had never had any mental stability to begin with.

With a growl, Jungkook throws the file across the room. He wants to rip it apart, tear it to pieces. He’ll burn it. He’ll burn every single fucking thing to the ground. His heart is beating out of his chest and Jimin makes such wretched sounds, it’s like he’s choking. It’s unbearable. It fucking hurts.

Jungkook sinks back against the couch and tugs Jimin into his lap. He holds Jimin as they both let the tears of white hot rage roll down their cheeks. Jungkook doesn’t know how to empathise, but he can let Jimin lean on him. He doesn’t know who’s shaking more. Or if it was all Jimin. Jimin doesn’t fight like he does before, he’s boneless and sobbing. It’s worse.

Gradually, Jimin’s voice comes back, steady, though still quiet. His sniffles the only thing filling the silence in the room.

“On my 15th birthday, I snuck a knife from the kitchen and hid it under my pillow.” Jimin glances up at Jungkook with droplets of tears sticking to his eyelashes. His face is pink and puffy from crying, but that doesn’t stop Jungkook from nuzzling against him or kissing his temple. “She’d only let in men. Sometimes they wore suits, sometimes they didn’t. I hated them all. One day…I don’t know what happened, I just…I thought maybe the pain would stop if I’d just...”

Knives were a danger to Jimin. He’d always thought that the only purpose for a knife was to cut into his skin, to leave scars. His mother didn’t use them for anything other than to hurt him, so it was natural for him to think that they held no other purpose. In a way, he was right. Knives draw blood, they kill.

At first, it was for him. However, when the door of his room creaks open one night and a man enters, he didn’t hesitate to drive the sharp end into his bulging stomach. There was no poetic way of putting it. When the man fell to the floor, Jimin didn’t stop with just one stab. He went on for fifteen – the amount of years he’s suffered. He counts them under his breath, his cracked lips stretching wide over his face in a satisfied smile. He remembers wanting more, wanting to flood the house with it. Cleanse everything.

He goes out in seek of his mother, blood dripping from the large baggy t-shirt that he wears above nothing else. He’s soaked from head to toe, skin already crusty with tears and cum and now blood. There’s an insatiable itch under his skin, a crawling sensation that makes him twitch and clutch the knife harder in his hand.

He finds his mother in the living room, counting the money she has in her hand. She doesn’t spot him for five minutes, but when she realises that there’s no noise coming from his bedroom, she turns towards the stairs, only to see him standing at the very bottom. She screams at him, no longer afraid of alerting the neighbours. When Jimin cuts the tendons in her legs, she attempts to crawl away across the floor to get to the front door. When Jimin grabs her by the hair, and whispers his torment in her ears, she begs and pleads for him to let her go. He asks why. Why would he show her the mercy she never gave him? Why? Why? Why?

He tells her to be quiet when he sits her down on a chair in their kitchen. Though he’s weak from hunger, the adrenaline is enough to keep him going. It keeps him cutting, slicing, tearing. For the first time since Ji-Hyun, he finds beauty in something.

“They found me an hour after my mother yelled for help,” Jimin breathes as he wipes his eyes with his sleeves. “I was unconscious next to her…or what was left of her. They didn’t recognise her because I’d scattered the pieces around the house along with that man’s parts. They found his head in the bathroom with his own dick in his mouth. I got pretty creative with it,” he laughs humorlessly.

“After that, I went onto killing on my own. I lived on the streets after child services told me I would be going to a juvenile facility. I didn’t like it, so I ran off. I got by on my own pretty well. Men will fuck anything that has a nice ass and a cute smile,” Jimin sighs, tucking his face into Jungkook’s neck. “I met Namjoon-hyung when I was 19. He gave me a job, took me in for a while till I could stand on my own. I’ve been working for him ever since.”

It ends there. Jungkook can tell Jimin won’t say any more on the matter. He’s slightly relieved, but there’s such a mix of emotions in the air. He’s glad Jimin’s mother is gone, that he’s no longer in that house, however his experiences as a child has left such a big scar that Jungkook isn’t sure he’ll ever overcome it. Jungkook obviously cannot relate, and sympathizing would only make it appear he’s giving Jimin pity. That’s not what Jimin needs right now.

“Was that what you wanted?” Jimin asks.

“I…I’m sorry, Jimin-hyung. I didn’t mean for it to make you relive it...” Jungkook murmurs, dropping his gaze.

Delicate fingers grip Jungkook’s chin, tilting his head up. Jimin’s eyes droop, red and bloodshot, but still so, so stunning. “The question now is, do you want to stay or go?” His hand drops from Jungkook’s face, like if he touches for longer than a few seconds, he won’t let go.

“What? What do you mean?” Jungkook startles, bemused.

“It’s alright, Jungkook. It’s not such a tough decision. You said it yourself. Dirty.” Jimin clambers out from Jungkook’s lap and stands up. They both are left feeling cold without the other. “Corrupt. Tainted. Unworthy of love?” he spits out.

“No…” Jungkook chokes, grabbing Jimin’s hips quickly. He pulls him back between his legs and shakes his head vigorously. “No, no! H-Hyung, I’m not going to leave you because of that. I won’t leave you, ever.”

Jimin looks to be on the verge of crying again. “B-But…I’m filthy, Jungkook. I…I’ve been used. I…”

“Fuck, hyung, I don’t give a shit about that. The only thing that story has made me realise is how much more I should appreciate you. How much I love you,” Jungkook says fiercely, hugging Jimin around the waist. “It wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could to survive. I’m glad you’re here. That’s all that matters to me.”

Jimin feels the fight leave him with just one squeeze of Jungkook’s arms around him. In defeat, he places his hand in Jungkook’s hair and cards his fingers through the locks. Feigning confidence is what Jimin does best. He pretends until he gets it right, and when it finally came to Jungkook finding out about his ‘tragic past’ he was honest to god terrified. There was no telling how Jungkook would react. Sure, they’re killers but that did not mean that Jungkook cannot feel some sort of disgust for him. Being a killer is what should turn him off in the first place. Their whole relationship was like Jimin testing Jungkook’s limits. However, with everything out in the open, he doesn’t think there’s anything he can do that will turn Jungkook off anymore.

“Wouldn’t be better off without me? Do you know how many hands have touched me?” Jimin doesn’t stop trying.

“Stop. Stop that. Stop talking like that,” Jungkook scolds lightly. “Look, I get it, we’re bad people. We hurt others all the time, but that does not mean that what happened to you in your childhood makes you dirty. We both have our own problems but…god fucking damn, that doesn’t make us bad. Killing people makes us bad…but not this.”

Jimin doesn’t say another word.

“Hyung… If I hadn’t met you that night… If you hadn’t found me before anyone else could. God, what would’ve happened to me?” Jungkook frowns. “We both know I have trouble controlling my temper. We both know that I would’ve killed again. I would’ve done it again, but without you there. Without you…I don’t think I would’ve lasted this long. You can say whatever the fuck you want about yourself, Jimin, but know that you’re everything to me. I don’t give a flying fuck about your past. I love you.”

Jimin smiles self-deprecatingly down at him, reluctantly nodding. “I…I wish I could stop feeling so wrong.”   

Jungkook rests his head tenderly against Jimin’s stomach. Telling Jimin that he wasn’t anything but good would be a lie. Telling him that Jungkook loves him unconditionally would be redundant. For the first time, Jungkook feels that he can’t kiss or cuddle the problem away. It’s not that simple. Jimin needs more than that, he needs Jungkook to be stronger than that.

“I wanna help.” Jungkook looks up at Jimin with teary eyes. “I want to help you, Jimin-hyung. What do I do?” he pleads.

Jimin looks just as lost, his brows furrowed, his eyes going back and forth over Jungkook’s face. He’s picking his words carefully. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook.”

He’s losing him little by little. Jimin may have been afraid of losing Jungkook, but Jungkook is petrified about Jimin withdrawing in on himself.

“There has to be something… God , there has to be something,” Jungkook whispers desperately, clutching onto Jimin for dear life. If he lets go, if he stops, he knows he has lost. Jimin will walk away and he won’t get him back.

“Jungkook, let go,” Jimin shoves at his hands, trying to retreat.

“No! Just tell me what I should do! I just wanna know what I can do to help!” Jungkook cries out, tightening his arms.

“Nothing! There’s nothing you can do!” Jimin wrenches himself out of Jungkook’s grasp, causing the younger to stumble forward.


“I don’t…” Jimin grips his hair in frustration. “I don’t need you to do anything at all. I survived 22 years without you, Jungkook, don’t think I’m that weak. I’ll get over it. Like I always do. It’s what I do best.”

“ don’t have to do it alone this time,” Jungkook insists. “I’m here.”

Jimin pauses, his fingers releasing the iron grip on his own hair. “You’re here…”

“Yes, I’m here.” Jungkook approaches him cautiously, placing his hands on his shoulders, sliding down his arms then taking his hands.

“...You’ll be here?” Jimin lifts his head, his bottom lip trembling. “Really?” The word comes out broken.

“How could you doubt me? Of course,” he promises.

Bringing their hands up, Jimin kisses over Jungkook’s knuckles gratefully. “Right. How could I doubt you?” he smiles wearily.

They stand in the middle of the living room for who knows how long. From the corner of his eye, Jungkook can see the sky lighten outside their window. The warm glow hits the side of Jimin’s face, and he can’t resist cupping his cheek, thinking some of the warmth will transfer to him. Happy that Jimin doesn’t pull away, Jungkook rubs his thumb over his cheekbone, his fingertips brushing along Jimin’s bottom lashes. The older man’s eyes slide shut, his face tilting towards his touch. They’re far from okay. Nothing that big can be brushed off or ignored so easily.

At the very least, they’re more calm now.

“I feel gross,” Jimin murmurs. “I think I might need a shower.”

Jungkook chortles. “Sure.”

They end up in the shower, fully clothed. Jimin makes a noise of protest, confused about his fiancé’s intentions. Once they’re both crammed inside the bathtub, Jungkook reaches back to turn on the hot water without so much as a warning. Surprised, Jimin jumps away but despite his efforts, their clothes get soaked through, and it’s not pleasant.

“What was the point of this?” Jimin raises an eyebrow at him.

“...You said you felt gross,” Jungkook says as though it’s the most logical response.

“And how is getting our clothes wet supposed to help?,” Jimin laughs softly. “…This is dumb…” he tells him, smiling nevertheless.

“Yeah…I know,” Jungkook whispers, eyes half-lidded with adoration as Jimin comes closer. Honestly, their height difference isn’t too large, but he still has to bend his knees for Jimin to kiss him.

It doesn’t start with any heat, just a touch of the lips that is full of acceptance and reassurance. Jimin is emotionally wrung, while Jungkook is doing all he can not to think about what has transpired again. It only makes him angry to think about it, and they both need to move on. He settles for the tender press of Jimin’s lips over his, only letting the older man lick into mouth when he asks. Everything is wet and too warm, but Jungkook thinks this is better than kissing in the rain. At least they’re not cold.

“Thank you for listening to me, baby,” Jimin coos, cradling Jungkook’s face and bringing him down to place brief kisses all over. His forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, and lastly, his lips.

Jungkook hums, going pliant in Jimin’s hands. “All I wanted to do was get to know you better.”

“Yes, and now you do know me better,” Jimin replies, tilting Jungkook’s head to the side to trail his lips over his jawline, catching a little bit of sweetness from their make-out session in the store. “So good to me. So kind and sweet. I’m glad I can be the only person that gets to see you like this.”

Jimin clearly is masking his hurt once again. Jungkook doesn’t want to call him out on it. Jimin obviously has his own ways of coping.

“I wouldn’t let anyone else see me like this,” he grumbles, eyelashes fluttering at the feeling of Jimin’s plush lips mouthing over his skin.

“Good. I trust you to know who you belong to.” Jimin sucks and bites down his throat, leaving bruises over the fading ones Jungkook already has.

Jungkook whines softly. He knows where this is going. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him excited. Jimin doesn’t take charge very often in the bedroom. He apparently likes being fucked more than doing the fucking since it tires him out, but when he does have the energy… Fucking damn…Jungkook is putty in his hands. If Jimin was a little cockslut for him, then Jungkook was a whiny little whore for Jimin. Plus, he thinks Jimin needs this more than he does. If he can give Jimin back his sense of control, maybe he’ll feel better. He’s no longer the broken child he was in the past, Jimin has grown strong and independent. He’s not his mother’s possession anymore.

“I’m yours, hyung. Only yours,” Jungkook says, breathless. He leans further into Jimin, letting the hot water scald his back.

“Mine…” Jimin smiles happily.

“Yes, everything, yours.”

Jungkook all but rubs himself against Jimin like a desperate animal in heat. And he waits for it, waits for Jimin to slam him up against the wall and take what’s his. He wants to know if getting fucked in the shower is as hot as it is getting to fuck Jimin in the shower. Jimin doesn’t disappoint. He backs Jungkook up to the shower wall until his back meets the cold tiles.

He shouldn’t love feeling so powerless, so cornered, trapped like this. However, Jimin does it so well, makes him feel smaller than he is, and Jungkook loves that. The fierce dark lust swirling in Jimin’s typically warm brown eyes is what makes his knees grow weak. This newfound confidence and dominance in Jimin is quite a rare scene that never goes underappreciated. Jimin has such a way of making him feel so needy, so desperate for touch, so fucking slutty just from one look.

They like to exercise trust in this relationship. No one gains more than the other. They’re equals.

“Strip for me, baby. Do it quickly,” Jimin commands.

Jungkook snaps into action, peeling off his wet clothes and dumping them on the floor of the bathroom. Hurriedly, he shoves down his boxers and stands bare. Jimin strips a little slower, more patient than Jungkook is, which makes the younger whine loudly.

“Sh…” Jimin shushes. “Be a good boy and grab the lube for me.”

They don’t bother with foreplay this time. Both already horny from their trip to the store, they skip over a few steps. Jimin impatiently finger fucks Jungkook for fives minutes, soothing his tongue over his puffy rim now and again to make it easier for Jungkook to relax. The younger will push back in seek of more of his tongue, but Jimin tuts and promises that he will eat him out later. They’re already too desperate, and all Jimin wants is to get inside Jungkook quickly and never leave. He wants his baby to scream, to cum all over himself. Jimin wants to see him break apart around his dick. He’ll make it up to Jungkook later.

“Brace your hands on the wall, Jungkookie,” Jimin coaxes, trailing his free hand down the younger’s naked back, his spine curving in response.

Jungkook takes a deep breath. It’s been so long since he’s been in this position. He wants to be good, wants to give Jimin the control that he needs. Having lived for so long without any sort of control, Jungkook has to make sure that Jimin knows he’s no longer that poor little boy anymore. Everything changes, he has Jungkook, he has someone that will love him back just as much. He has to be sure that Jimin knows .

“I...I thought we were skipping foreplay?” Jungkook moans, putting his palms against the tiles of the wall, canting his ass back more.

“We are, baby, but I have to make you all nice and loose for me. Unless you want me going in raw.”

“Mm...Wouldn’t be the worst idea.” Jungkook casts a look over his shoulder at Jimin, who smirks back at him.

“I don’t want my baby hurting in the morning. Can’t have you wobbling all over the place, right?” Jimin pecks the small of his back, his fingers curling upwards in seek of his sweet spot.

“...I doubt your dick can make me that sore, hyung. Giving yourself a little too much credit, aren’t you?” Jungkook teases, getting a gentle pat on the ass for it.

“I’m being nice to you, brat. You know how scary I am when I’m angry?” Jimin snorts.

“Very. You’re terrifying,” Jungkook retorts sarcastically, but he knows those words are true in another sense.

“Hm. Maybe I should fuck all that talk out of you,” Jimin quips.

“Then do it,” Jungkook challenges.


“A-Ah!” Jungkook gasps sharply at being suddenly jostled around, one of his legs being yanked up to wrap around Jimin’s naked hip. He expects for Jimin to fuck into him right away, but it never comes. What he gets instead is his fiancé’s warm lips on his, his kisses bruising, searing, so feverish that he can’t keep up. Knowing that he can’t very well fight back like he wants to, he goes pliant, groaning each time Jimin bites his lips, tugging and sucking his lower one into his mouth till the blood rushes up to form a cheery red colour.

“You’re so gorgeous, Jungkook. My sweet bunny,” Jimin smiles, head dipping down again to get at his throat.

“F-fuck…please don’t say that. It’s embarrassing. S-stop it,” Jungkook whines. His weeping cock nestles between their bellies, and each time Jimin moves, it sends bolts of pleasure up his back.

“Make me…” Jimin smirks.

Wanting to grab onto something to keep his sanity, Jungkook makes a reach for Jimin’s hair as the older man attacks his neck, only for his wrists to be pinned to the shower wall. And god forbid if he didn’t actually arch into Jimin for more, his fingers curling and uncurling in excitement. He feels so exposed, his chest open, his legs spread apart. Jimin must have realised this too because he doesn’t hesitate to move further down and roll his tongue over Jungkook’s nipple, causing the younger to release a high-pitched noise that’s caught between a moan and a shriek.

His nipples so fucking sensitive, Jungkook doesn’t last for longer than a minute before he’s panting loudly. “J-Jiminie…h-hyung...s-stop...please, I can’t…” he arches his back again with a sob. “Please...I wanna be fucked...please just fuck me already,” he pleads, feeling his one leg that is still planted on the floor about to collapse on him.

Jungkook must have been expecting too much from his lover, because the older boy was far less merciful this time. Jimin’s cock rubs over Jungkook’s hole torturously, teasing him until he’s begging. He at least has the decency to haul Jungkook up all the way, his ankles instinctively locking over the small of the older man’s back to keep himself up.

“Always such a little whore for me when you’re like this,” Jimin chuckles. “What happened to my big bad bunny? What? You don’t have any more remarks about my dick size?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply to the taunt, too far gone from frustration.

Finally, finally , Jimin grants him some relief.

He cries out against Jimin’s lips once he feels him fill him, sitting inside for a moment to give them both some time to breathe. Jungkook’s wrists are released but only now did he have the sense to put his arms around the other, his hands scraping lines into Jimin’s beautifully tan skin. Jimin’s own hands are at his ass, cupping and squeezing him, in turn making it that much more torturous for Jungkook, who just wishes that he would move. Jimin must have heard his silent prayer, for the next moment, he was pulling out half way, his cock dragging deliciously along Jungkook’s silky walls, making his insides quiver.

“Tell me how much you want this, baby,” Jimin growls in his ear. “Tell me how much of a cockslut you are for me. Come on, I know you can be so good.”

“I…” Jungkook’s cut off, Jimin’s thrust back in punching all the air out of his lungs so fast he has to dig his nail into his skin to not scream. “...I-I’m a slut, hyung. I love your cock, I love it when you f-fuck me- please...please, give me more…” he babbles, too delirious once again to pinpoint what he’d actually said. It could’ve been a bunch of gibberish for all he cared.

“You’re mine, aren’t you? All mine.”

“Y-Yes, I’m yours. O-Only y-yours…” his words rattle through his teeth, his hips rutting down to try and get Jimin to keep moving again. “Only you...c-can see me...l-like this. I-I want o-only you, no one else.” Jungkook doesn’t think he’s ever been this vocal in a while. Having Jimin fuck him makes him ache for more .

“It’s good that you know,” Jimin says, his voice strained.

Jungkook shakes apart with every hard thrust Jimin makes into him, his whole-body shuddering and aching for release. His hands paw along the older man’s shoulder blades as he let Jimin move his lower half for him, his sobs bouncing off the walls of the shower. Jimin has free rein, manoeuvring his hips this way and that to get the best angle, his cock diving in so deep Jungkook swears he’s about to be split open. He could stay this way for the rest of his life.

“Jiminie-hyung…” he whines wantonly, eyelashes fluttering as he stares at Jimin’s face. Eventually, Jimin looks back at him, eyes dark. Though it’s embarrassing to maintain eye contact for too long, Jungkook can’t bring himself to avert his gaze.

“Good? How good do I make you feel, baby? Tell me,” Jimin groans throatily.

“S-So feels so good…” he nods, keening loudly when he feels Jimin’s fingers spreading him open more, his hole probably stretched so wide Jimin could’ve shoved a few fingers up in there with his cock. “Y-You fuck me so good, hyung...fuck...more, more, please...more,” he begs, chills running up and down his spine the second Jimin rubs over his prostate, evoking a soft moan from his parted lips. His body hunches a little, his head going around to bury itself in the crook of Jimin’s neck, his heavy pants fanning across hot skin.

As a harsh wave of pleasure washes over him, Jungkook tips his head back, immediately responding to the kisses that Jimin presses to his lips. “M-Mm…” he moans, his jaw slack in disbelief that something could feel this good after so long. He doesn’t know why Jimin would pass up this opportunity so many times. It drives him insane how Jimin knows exactly which buttons to press to make him writhe in want. What had they been doing all this time? Why hasn’t Jimin ever insist that he take charge more frequently? Jungkook would’ve let him and they could’ve gotten to this much sooner. All that wasted time.

“N-Ngh...fuck...Jimin...g-gonna cum... fuck- I wanna cum... p-please, h-harder, faster…” he mews, tears collecting in his eyelashes as they flutter close. His chest and stomach heaves, his skin so flushed he isn’t sure if it was from the hot water or from Jimin’s cock drilling into him. He can feel it in his bones that Jimin is teetering along with him. And when he leans back against the wall and looks down between them to see Jimin’s cock thrusting into him, he rolls his hips in a circle, trying to coax Jimin’s orgasm to the surface first.

His own cock is blushing red, leaking in need to be touched but Jungkook wants to cum untouched. He wants to give Jimin everything even if it’s just for tonight. He knows it makes Jimin so happy whenever he cums untouched, and although he didn’t want to fuel his ego even more, it doesn’t take much work for Jungkook to cum with Jimin’s cock buried in his ass alone.

“T-Together, baby,” Jimin croons.

Jungkook doesn’t think twice about it. His vision grows hazy with the steam rising from the shower, his legs and arms shaking in an attempt to keep himself from cumming before Jimin does. However, it’s a futile attempt, because he’s cumming hard all over his stomach and chest before Jimin can get to his own. He rides it out with a strangled cry, his orgasm dragging out for longer from the feeling of Jimin filling him to the brim.

Jungkook slumps back against the shower wall once it’s over, making small whimpering noises at the back of his throat. Despite being overstimulated, he rolls his hips again, biting his lip to hide his pleased smirk. Like Jimin, Jungkook also likes being fucked into oversensitivity, but Jimin is already getting soft and he can’t get much out of that.

“Mm... Clean up now?” he asks, smoothing his hands down Jimin’s chest.

Idiotically, Jungkook thinks that, that would be the end of it. He expects for them to wash up, maybe get a snack, then turn in for the night. What he doesn’t expect is for Jimin to slyly slide a finger back inside him, causing a rush of cum to seep from his spent hole.

“What are you doing?” he gasps as his legs drop down, and his fiancé crouches down before him, lifting one of his legs off the floor so that he was exposed...again. “Jimin-hyung!” he exclaims in surprise when Jimin starts to lick up his own cum, lips closing around Jungkook’s rim to eat him out. Jungkook’s hands immediately fist in Jimin’s hair, his hole clenching around his tongue, too sensitive. He didn’t know if he’s pulling him in further or trying to push him away.

“J-Jiminie-hyung, stop. That’s gross,” he pants, his words slurred and breathless. “A-Ah...shit...d-don’t do that,” Jungkook moans. The back of his head thumps dully against the shower wall, eliciting a small hiss. His thoughts rattle and scatter about in his brain, making it hard for Jungkook to register the self-satisfied smirk Jimin shoots at him once he pulls away.

“So bratty,” Jimin teases, licking his lips.

The older man peels him away from the wall, tugging him to the middle to get under the scalding spray of the shower once again. Feeling too weak to respond, he sways slightly on his feet, grimacing now and then whilst his lover cleans him up. During his absentmindedness, Jimin finishes washing the both of them up. Before he’s aware, he’s being dragged out of the shower to dry off.

Fatigue ready to drag them both under, they flop down onto their bed in a heap, unclothed, their bodies light and refreshed, but minds still heavy. Tired in all sorts of ways, Jungkook pulls Jimin into his arms and tucks his head under his chin.

The sun is rising, bathing their bedroom in a soft morning haze. It’s cold, and the windows are frosted over, but neither of them has the energy to get up and put on the AC. Jungkook merely drapes the covers over them, and tangles his legs with Jimin.

“Are you okay now, Jimin-hyung?” Jungkook inquires, his voice no long able to go above a raspy whisper due to how much he’s been moaning and groaning.

“…No, I’m not,” Jimin admits. “It’s going to be a while till I’m okay, but I have you, which makes it a little better.”

“Take as much time as you need,” Jungkook responds.

“Yeah? And you won’t get impatient with me?” Jimin doesn’t joke, or tease, or makes light of the situation. He worries that Jungkook will get sick of him one day. That, one morning, Jungkook will realise how much of a fuck up he is, pack his bags, and leave Jimin for good. It’s a fear he has been harbouring ever since they met. Jungkook is nothing but forgiving. He endures so much daily simply being with Jimin. How can Jimin ask any more of him? It’s enough that he’s here at all. Then…Jimin remembers the fact that Jungkook has an obsession. No better way of putting it. He’s equally as obsessive as Jimin is. He shouldn’t have any doubts.

“Are you sure you want to wait for a sad fuck like me?” Jimin scoffs.

“You don’t always have to be okay, you know,” Jungkook tells him. “You can be sad, and angry all you want, and I will still be here. You can take as much time as you want to heal. But…while you’re healing, remember that I’ll be here when you’re done. Whenever that is. Whenever you decide that you’re done being sad. I’ll be here ready to catch you.”

Chapter Text

“Unconscious beauty.”

Jimin makes elaborate slices, his hand steady as he carves a blossoming rose into the cold flesh of the young woman’s arm. Her heart stopped hours ago, but Jimin made sure to collect some of the blood she split with a pipet, which he uses to squeeze a few droplets above the patterns. Her blood, now lukewarm at best, trickles through the lines, staining her skin red. A deep red rose that Jimin etches carefully, blooming with the last of her life.  

“…Did you just make a pun?” From his seat on the closed toilet lid, Jungkook wrinkles his nose in distaste at his fiancé’s poor choice of jokes.

Jimin snickers. “You know the language of flowers, baby?”

“I used to study flowers for my art class. I learned a few things,” he shrugs.

“Okay, so what’s this one?” Jimin lifts the girl’s other arm.

“Chive. Usefulness. You’re…being ironic.” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

Jimin claps his hands gleefully, the scalpel he holds clinking against his engagement ring. “I knew I made the right choice picking you.”

Jungkook snorts in amusement.

They’ve been at this for a few hours. His ass is beginning to turn sore from sitting on the toilet lid for so long, watching Jimin merrily scoop out organs after organs. Thankfully, they’ve acquired two victims tonight. Two women to be exact, a direct result of what had happened a mere two days prior. Jimin has been favouring women these days. It’s obvious the discussion about his mother left a terrible taste in his mouth. Jungkook doesn’t oppose to it. However his fiancé wants to combat his pent-up aggression, Jungkook won’t stop him. It just means tonight, Jungkook has a toy of his own to play with.

To go undetected, they had hit up a few different clubs that night. Otherwise known as Jimin being picky, unsatisfied with everyone that crosses his path. Jungkook whined during the whole process. He swears that it’s not a usual thing for him to do, but Jimin barely gave him five minutes to grind up on him on the dance floor before he was off hunting. Fortunately for Jungkook’s patience, they left with a naïve young woman and her ditzy friend at the third club they went to.

“Do you know what this flower is, love?” Jimin asks, lifting the girl’s right hand. The flower covers her whole palm, petals outstretching over each of her fingers, her blood drying down her wrists.

Jungkook shakes his head. He doesn’t recognise it.

“Milkvetch. It means, your presence softens my pain,” Jimin informs him with a broad smile.

“Very creative,” Jungkook chuckles. “You’re talented at art, hyung.”

“You’re only realising that now?” the older man says with fake-offense. “You should be paying more attention, Jungkookie. No wonder your kills are so messy.”

“Is that a challenge?” the younger barks a laugh.

“It is if you want it to be, babe. I’m just saying…” Jimin says in a sing-song. “My kills are prettier than yours.”

“Oho! You really wanna play this game, huh? You know I could totally give you a run for your money now,” Jungkook says, picking up one of the other scalpels sitting on a tray atop the sink and jabs it teasingly in Jimin’s direction, setting it down right after.

“All talk. No bite,” Jimin tuts with a grin.

“Aren’t I usually more bite than talk?” he scoffs.

“Oh, definitely,” Jimin hums, cocking his head to reveal the litter of bite marks crawling down the side of his neck, disappearing beyond the collar of his shirt.

“Look, I just don’t have the patience to carve art into each one of my victims. Sue me,” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Huh, I thought an art major would think differently,” Jimin laughs, taking a glance over his shoulder at their second victim in the corner of the room. Alive, but unconscious.

“If we take too long, they start to stink,” Jungkook scoffs, as he stands. He pads his way over to the corner and squats down before the other unconscious woman. “Plus, I thought you said we’d make it to Yoongi’s by morning? We have about an hour.”

With more force than was necessary, Jungkook rips the gag from the girl’s mouth, watching in amusement when she jerks awake, disoriented and panicked. Her once red painted lips are now smeared and dry, her mascara has left dark tracks down her cheeks from crying, her distress clear in the caking make-up. For a second, she’s confused about her own whereabouts, until her eyes land on Jungkook. She whimpers and skitters back to cower into the corner.

“P-Please…d-don’t…” she pleads.

Jungkook simply watches her struggle not to breathe, the smell of death from the bathtub most likely hitting her senses already. Jungkook has been sitting in the motel bathroom long enough to already be used to it. He suspects that it’s not a pleasant smell to someone so new.

“Yoongi-hyung doesn’t care when we visit. He’s practically an insomniac. As long as we don’t interrupt when Hoseok-hyung is around, we’ll be fine,” Jimin replies, swivelling around in his chair.

Jungkook hums in reply, one of his elbows resting on the top of his knee as he stares at the whimpering victim. Ditzy as she might be, Jungkook has to give her credit for knowing when to sense danger. The second that the boys had brought them to a motel, a rundown place with no security cameras, she’d gotten nervous and suggested that she and her friend leave. Jungkook wasn’t all that great with women, and that wasn’t just because he was gayer than Yuri on Ice (which Jungkook definitely did not watch or cry during), but because he didn’t interact with people in general. That was Jimin’s job; a few endearing giggles and blushing cheeks and Jimin could have anyone laying themselves out for him to step on. He has a harmless aura about him when he’s hunting, far more approachable than Jungkook’s broody attitude.

“You wanna be let go?” Jungkook asks.

The girl’s eyes snap to him. There’s some hope there, which the couple find too amusing. Jungkook does it for his own sickening pleasure. He likes seeing the disappointment, the raw horror in a person’s eyes when he tells them that they’re going nowhere.

“P-Please! Please, I-I’ll do anything! I’ll do anything, just let me go,” she chokes on the last word, sobs wracking her tiny body.

“What will you give me?”

It takes a second for Jungkook’s question to register, her desperation and crippling fear too overwhelming. “Huh?” the girl hiccups.

“What will you give me?” Jungkook repeats, slower this time, his voice mocking with a hint of condescension. “You have to give me something in return. I can’t let you go just like that.”

“I…” she pauses, confused. “I…I don’t-”

“Have anything?” Jungkook cuts in. “Tch… Then what are you good for?”

“No! No!” she jumps, ungracefully flopping forward towards Jungkook, who hops back a little on his heels. “I-I’ll do anything. Anything. I’ll give you all my money. T-Take my phone, my cards, anything you want!”

Jungkook glances back at Jimin, his eyebrows raised as if to say “wow”. Jimin smirks and shrugs, turning his head back around to continue harvesting from his own victim. Jimin doesn’t quite care what Jungkook does to the girl. He trusts that the younger will be careful enough that they can take the organs they need. They’re about to meet their quota. One more body and they’ll have enough to keep Yoongi sated for three weeks. They’ll have more time to go on a real date, a date where Jungkook doesn’t have to worry about Jimin going after some target with a pair of good looking eyes.

“I…I’ll do anything for you.”

When Jungkook turns his attention back to the girl, she’s wiggling closer, her bound wrists and ankles are unhelpful in her quest to get at Jungkook’s crotch. Jungkook holds still. He can already feel the sting in his thighs from squatting for so long, but he wants to see how far she’ll go to try to save her own life. Once she reaches him, she presses her cheek against his inner thigh, a hopeful smile on her face, her make-up ruining his black jeans. Seeing that he isn’t pulling away, she regains her bravery. Jungkook has the urge to push her away in repulsion, but if he has learned anything from the way Jimin conducts himself in front of a desperate victim, it’s that he should act pleasant, give them some sort of hope. No matter how little it was or how short-lived, it’ll be that much more gratifying to see the helplessness fill their eyes at the first strike of a knife.

“I-I’ll suck you off. I’ll let you fuck me. I’ll let you do anything you want to me, please j-just don’t k-kill me,” she begs, tearful eyes skirting over to the bathtub where her friend lies cold.

With gentle fingers, Jungkook takes her chin, his thumb and middle finger dipping into each cheek. “Is that all you can give? What’s using your mouth gonna do?” he snorts.

Her eyes widen, panic causing her to nuzzling in further until her lips hover over his zipper. “I can do more! I can do more I-I’ll please you both. I’ll let you fuck me as much as you want!”

Fear makes a person reckless, and Jungkook was willing to see how reckless she’s willing to be to preserve the little time she has left of life. It’s not cruel, it’s how they work. Everyone has to have a little taste of confrontation with their own mortality.

“I can do anything for you!” she exclaims, the tip of her nose trying to trace over his crotch.

Jimin observes in quiet delight from his chair, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He loves it when they beg. Any way he can make them bargain, plead, grovel, he’ll do it. Jimin won’t lie, he likes seeing his victims crawl on their hands and knees to please him. Seeing Jungkook handle this so calmly instead of immediately snapping her neck is a refreshing sight.

“Bribing your killer with a blowjob? Do you think I want your filthy mouth anywhere near my cock?” Jungkook’s lips curl in a snarl. His dick couldn’t be softer.

“Now, now,” Jimin giggles. “You shouldn’t be so rude to our guest, Jungkookie. She made you an offer.”

“Not a very good one.” Jungkook stands, the girl’s head making a horrid smack when it connects with the tiled bathroom floor.

“It is pretty weak,” Jimin agrees, turning in his chair again. His bloody gloved hands are held up in the air, some droplets falling to spot the apron he has over his clothes. “What else do you have?” he asks the girl.

She looks bewildered. Her eyes switch from Jimin to Jungkook, thinking of how she can dig her way out of her own grave. Before she can answer however, Jimin comes to crouch before her, his beaming face holding no malice or ill intent. His words on the other hand are piercing.

“I like your eyes,” he tells her. “Can I have them?”

“W-What? N-No!” she snaps.

Jimin pouts. “Well, if I can’t have your eyes. How about your heart instead?” he says cheekily, holding up his thumb and forefinger in a love-heart sign.

The girl looks on in disgust, Jungkook is dismayed.

“Really?” his lover deadpans.

Jimin peeks up at Jungkook, who looms over them both. “You never play, Jungkook-ah. This is the fun part of killing,” Jimin mumbles between his pouting lips.

“I don’t want to play. It’s almost dawn,” Jungkook crosses his arms like a parent telling their child to come home from the playground.

“Aww…spoil sport,” Jimin mutters. He turns back to the girl, pats her head in a friendly gesture. “Don’t worry about him. He’s usually like this with new people.”

The girl doesn’t dare reply. She doesn’t know what to make of them.

“It’s okay though.” Jimin croons. “I’ll gladly play with you.”

“You have thirty minutes,” Jungkook reminds him as he situates himself back on the toilet.

“I can do it in twenty!” Jimin hops cheerfully to his feet.

He leans over to peck Jungkook on the lips before he reaches down and grabs a handful of the girl’s hair. She shrieks in pain, her arms straining in need to place her hands over his to loosen the grip. Jimin drags her forcefully to the bathtub, the scent of death making her gag. Her feet kick against the floor, unable to do much else than be pulled along. She sobs, a wretched sound that comes out choked and gurgling, but neither Jimin or Jungkook bat an eyelash at her.

“N-No! No! Please…h-help me…” she cries to Jungkook.

“Why?” The younger man tilts his head.

She looks conflicted, searching for any excuse possible. “I-I’m pregnant! I have a family, please!” she lies.

Jimin’s fingers tightening until the skin of her scalp tears. She’s bleeding in many places already, Jimin doesn’t care if she’s making a mess. Her screams get cut off by his other hand, her body thrashing at the pain. “What poor child would want you as a mother? You go to clubs when you’re pregnant.”

She sobs more behind his hand, her black tears trickling over his fingers.

“Hyung,” Jungkook calls softly. “Maybe I should handle this one. Why don’t you finish up and go relax?”

“I am relaxed.”

“Clearly,” Jungkook retorts sarcastically.

Jimin doesn’t listen. He drops the girl carelessly to the floor, letting her flop onto her side. “What kind of mother would go to a club and drink while her child is still in her belly? You might as well kill it. No sense in letting it live if this is how you’ll behave.” He growls, placing his boot to her temple, pressing down until she’s gasping. “Spare them the heartbreak of living with a fuck-up of a mother.”

Jungkook makes no move to stop him. In fact, this is his favourite part of killing. When he gets to see Jimin’s temper bubbling up to the surface. Although his fiancé may brag about his patience and artistic ability, there are times in which Jimin has absolutely no patience at all. Some words can make him snap faster than a blink, and when a victim knows exactly which words, they end up worse than they would be in Jungkook’s hands. Regrettably, it doesn’t happen as much as Jungkook would like it to. Though he shouldn’t be so happy seeing Jimin lose control, it makes him feel better knowing that he’s not bottling it up every single time.

“The child would be better off without you.”


The sky is a hue of orange and purple by the time Jimin disposes of the bodies. Jungkook decides that he should stay behind at the motel to scrub the whole bathroom clean. Jimin invites him along to see Seokjin, but it made more sense for Jimin to go alone since they were due to leave their keys at the front desk by 7am. There’s a moment as he’s kissing Jimin goodbye that Jungkook knows he’s calmer. The wound his mother and the death of his brother left is healing. Albeit slowly. Jimin isn’t the same. Harbouring such a burden can affect a person for the rest of their life, but Jungkook never expects for Jimin to be completely free of it. Jimin is a killer, there is no complete recovery for him. That’s okay though, because Jungkook is beyond saving too.

Jimin returns to pick him up thirty minutes later and does another thorough inspection of their entire motel room before he’s satisfied. Jungkook grumbles about how he took care of it perfectly on his own, but it never hurts to be too careful. They spend their last few minutes in the room switching out of their dirty clothes, replacing them with clean ones, shoving the old ones in a bag to be burned later.

As they’re packing up their equipment into the car, Jungkook feels a prickling at the back of his neck. There’s a tingling down his spine all the way to his tailbone, the hairs on his arms raising in alarm.

“You okay, baby?” Jimin asks upon noticing his perturbed expression, his voice deepening and croaking with the morning chill.

“Yeah… Namjoon-hyung has cameras everywhere, right?” He scrunches up his nose.

“Pretty much. Why?”

“Urgh… I just feel like I’m always being watched,” Jungkook huffs with a shiver.

“You’ll get used to it,” Jimin comforts with a peck to his cheek.

“Yeah...okay,” Jungkook shrugs, rubbing his hand over the nape of his neck as they hop into the car.

They drive the twenty minutes to Yoongi’s lab in a lull, warm and sleepy as the car’s heater brings back the feeling in their toes and the tips of their fingers. Jungkook’s shivers soothe with steady breaths, and the touch of Jimin’s fingers at the back of his hand. The windows fog slightly and Jungkook draws little patterns to distract himself, Jimin’s words coming back to him. Perhaps he should pick up art again.

In the past its primary purpose was to quell his anger, but he loved doodling. He misses the feel of paint on his fingers, he misses getting as messy as he wants. He misses the tranquillity it brought him whenever the world got too much, the people too irritating, his anger too unbearable. Now that he has a different (unhealthy) outlet for his rage, he doesn’t see why he can’t pick up a pencil again for another reason. Maybe another day, maybe he really will give Jimin a run for his money.

“I gave Yoongi-hyung a call beforehand,” Jimin casually comments while they’re strolling to the front entrance of another abandoned building. “Though, Namjoon-hyung must’ve gotten to him first because now…well… You’ll find out anyway.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

In a similar fashion to when they went to meet Namjoon, Jimin speaks through the intercom before they’re given entrance.

“Hyung, we’re here.”

There’s some crackling on the other side. Yoongi doesn’t respond for another minute, taking his sweet time. “He stays outside.”

The couple glance at each other, Jungkook blinking rapidly.

“Hyung…” Jimin laughs. “Don’t be like that.”

“I have one rule in my lab, Jimin. It stays fucking pristine as Seokjin’s asshole,” Yoongi says. “I don’t need your pet pissing all over my carpet,” he drawls.

Jungkook is offended. Yoongi has yet to meet him, and he’s already giving him shit. What did Namjoon tell Yoongi that made the older man so bitter towards him already? Alright, so he was new. These people clearly have trust issues, but surely, they can trust Jimin.

“Hyung, do you want your supplies or not? I’m not leaving Jungkook out here in the cold,” Jimin argues lightly.

Yoongi doesn’t say a thing for another long, drawn out minute. “Wipe your feet on the way in or I’m dumping you both at the pound.”

They’re buzzed in without another smart remark. Jimin rushes to the door and holds it open for Jungkook to carry in the large coolers.

Yoongi wasn’t lying, his lab is impeccable. The floors shine, the white walls have no trace of mould despite the outward appearance of the building. Tools on silver trays lined up in their place, polished and practically sparkling. The pungent smell of cleaning fluids is enough to make Jungkook’s nose twitch.

Everything has its own space. One wall is entirely lined with refrigerators, the others with filing cabinets and computers. It’s neither crowded or dark like Namjoon’s was. As first impressions go, environment wise, Yoongi is doing better than Namjoon. Though soured by his fucking rude ass introduction, Jungkook will give the man the benefit of the doubt. Yoongi seems like the type of man to be an asshole to most people.

The man he is in person, is a few inches shorter than Jungkook. Their height difference isn’t large when Yoongi turns to them at his lab table, but the closer he gets, the shorter Yoongi becomes. He can almost butt heads with Jimin, though he can’t tell because he’s too distracted by the small piercing eyes that appear to want to chew Jungkook up and spit him out. He’s being scrutinized in a way that has him feeling cold and exposed. Different from Namjoon in too many ways, Jungkook is…intimidated. Yoongi hasn’t spoken to him directly yet, already Jungkook has the urge to make himself look taller, larger.

“Did you meet the quota I set for you?” Yoongi asks Jimin.

“We did! It’s all here.” Jimin steadies his hand on Jungkook’s forearm as the younger places the coolers on the table. The surface rattles with the weight, and the corners of Yoongi’s lips twist in annoyance when his tools become askew.

“Doesn’t your pet know how to be more considerate?” Yoongi doesn’t speak directly to him, which has Jungkook clenching his jaw.

“Hyung…” Jimin sighs.

Well, if Yoongi isn’t going to make the effort to be friendly, then why should he? Jungkook doesn’t do well with assholes, even though he’s one himself.

“Can’t you be nice? He’s my fiancé, you know,” Jimin whines, sending Yoongi a disarming smile.

“Namjoon didn’t tell me to be nice to him. Not that I’d listen anyway.”

“Can’t you try?”

“This is me being nice. If I wasn’t being nice he would’ve been left outside,” Yoongi snorts.

Jungkook makes a soft insulted noise from the back of his throat. He shouldn’t care about what sort of image Yoongi has of him. He doesn’t need to get along with the members, just needs to prove to them that he was good to keep around for the sake of the organisation.

“Yah,” Yoongi finally addresses him. “Didn’t your mother teach you to respect your elders?”

Jungkook bites his tongue. “I show respect to those who deserve it.”

Jimin disguises his laughter with a cough. Surprisingly, Yoongi looks impressed, though the expression is soon replaced with condescendence.

“You got a name, pup?” Yoongi smirks, crossing his arms.

“Jeon Jungkook,” he grunts.

“Should give you a treat for speaking when told.” Yoongi drags one of the coolers closer to him and opens it up to give the contents within a brief inspection.

“I’m not a dog,” he snaps.

“You’re also not the first pet he’s brought around here,” Yoongi tells him absentmindedly, as though brushing him off.

“He’s not a pet,” Jimin cuts in without missing a beat, and Jungkook feels like puffing out his chest in pride.

“That’s what you said about the others. If dick transplants were a thing, you’d have no problem keeping me well stocked,” Yoongi scoffs, snapping on elastic gloves to reach into the cooler.

“They were just temporary toys,” Jimin replies with a putout huff.

“No shit. And what makes this one-” Yoongi pauses to gesture at Jungkook. “-so different?”

The couple look to each other, smiling upon their eyes meeting. Wordlessly, Jungkook steps closer, slipping his arms around Jimin’s waist. The smaller man fits snuggly against his chest, his hands sliding up Jungkook’s pectorals to come to a stop at his shoulders.

They don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Just one look at them should be enough.

They stare too long, they always do. It’s their own way of communicating. Yoongi is waiting for an answer but Jungkook doesn’t allow Jimin to give one as he leans down to kiss him.

“…Are you serious…” Yoongi groans.

Jimin ignores him, sighs in contentment, his fingers tightening over Jungkook’s shoulder to keep him pressed to him. In return, Jungkook wraps his arms all the way around Jimin and lifts him right off his feet, their lips never disconnecting. The older man laughs into his mouth, his blush high on his cheeks. Jungkook, of course, has to smile back. How could he not?

Yoongi grumbles loudly from across the table.

Jungkook carefully sets Jimin back down on the floor, pecking his lips multiple times on the way until they’re red.

“You’re just mad because you can barely hug Hoseok-hyung,” Jimin snorts, wiping the corners of his wet lips.

“Isn’t he too young for that shit?” Yoongi jerks his head to Jungkook. “You’re kissing a damn toddler.”

“He’s twenty years old, hyung. I’m only two years older than him,” Jimin sighs, this time, not so content.

“I’m not a kid,” Jungkook growls, positioning himself behind Jimin again, the older man naturally leaning back into him.

“Whatever you say,” Yoongi mutters smugly.

During Yoongi’s inspection of their take, Jimin tries to butter him up by promising to supply him with lots and lots of healthy organs, maybe even an intact heart one day, if he’d just give Jungkook a chance.

His sweet words do nothing to stop Yoongi’s unneeded commentary on their relationship.

Jimin makes sure to run his hand through Jungkook's hair to calm him down occasionally. They can’t afford for Jungkook to mess up Yoongi’s lab.

"He doesn't mean it, baby. Don't listen to him," Jimin coos.

Yoongi only rolls his eyes again.                            

Jungkook growls at times. He doesn’t have a good enough comeback for most of Yoongi’s comments, which frustrates him to no end. So he snaps his teeth at him instead.

"Keep your damn pet on a leash or I get him a muzzle,” Yoongi yawns.

Yoongi’s indifference only pisses Jungkook off more. Some reaction would be more satisfying than nothing, but Yoongi isn't that kind.

“Could you cut it out with that dog shit?!”

Once again, no reaction.

"You should get him fixed,” Yoongi tells Jimin. “I heard that calms them down.”

Jungkook growls once more and Yoongi has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. If he’s honest, the kid is cute. Yoongi can't help think that Jungkook’s adorable in his own way. Jimin dotes on him incessantly too, coddles him till Jungkook is practically purring. That is, if a dog can purr.

Yoongi admires how protective Jungkook is of the other whenever his harsh teasing words are occasionally thrown towards the blond. Jimin needs someone like that. Not necessarily a person to protect him from all the horrors in the world – given that he is one of the horrors in the world – but someone who’s willing to work with him.

Yoongi is happy that Jimin has found someone that will accepts him as a whole. Fuck it. He's even proud of him. He’s impressed with Jungkook too, but god forbid the kid knows what he’s thinking.

“Hyung, if you’re really that frustrated, all you have to do is ask Hoseok-hyung on a date,” Jimin shoots back with a wide cheeky smile.

“Oh, shut up, you dog lover,” Yoongi hisses.

“I’m not a damn dog!” Jungkook exclaims for the tenth time.

“You’re whatever I say you are.”

Jimin reaches back and ruffles the hairs on Jungkook’s nape. “Don’t worry, Jungkookie. You’re my loveable puppy.”

“Disgusting. Atrocious,” Yoongi deadpans.

“You know, I think I read somewhere that sexual frustration can lead to health problems,” Jungkook smirks.

“What would you know? You’re fucking ten,” Yoongi counters. Childish, but effective.

“Did I touch a nerve?.”

“Can you even touch yourself without crying?” Yoongi arches an eyebrow

Jimin looks back and forth between them, incredibly entertained.

“Really, how long has it been since you’ve fucked something that isn’t covered in blood, hyung?” Jungkook throws back.

“Kid, is it really your place to question my sex life when you can barely make Jimin cum?” Yoongi scoffs again.

“…Oh god…” Jimin mumbles, shaking his head. “Are you two done? If you are, I need a list of what you want during the next supply run.”

The eldest grunts, closing the lid of the cooler before taking off his gloves. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Make sure not to strain yourself holding that pen,” Jungkook snickers.

Yoongi turns to Jimin again. "Seriously, put a muzzle on him. Or give him a bone to chew on. Tell him to sit in the corner, it's adult discussion time."

Jimin laughs, shaking his head once again. He can’t really take Yoongi seriously. Though he respects the man, Jimin has seen the moments where Yoongi gets too drunk and stupid. It’s tainted his cold image forever.

“Just give me the list.”

Yoongi shortly explains about the organs he’s in dire need of, ranging from kidneys to livers. The conversation turns to business and Yoongi sobers, meanwhile, Jungkook merely...hovers. He asks questions and pesters, pointing out each organ to inform Yoongi which ones he’s successfully removed during his lessons like a child seeking approval. Jimin is happy and patient with him but Yoongi has no issue with threatening him with a rolled up newspaper.

And when Yoongi goes too far, makes too many jokes, Jungkook almost jumps across the table to get at his throat, but Jimin grabs his hands and wraps them around his waist, pressing his back against Jungkook’s chest to keep him in place. He holds Jungkook around him for the rest of the discussion, Jungkook immediately placated.

“Cool trick. Does he wag his tail when you rub his belly too? If I give him a treat, will he roll over?" Yoongi teases.

Jungkook snarls over Jimin’s shoulder, upper lip curling.

Yoongi doesn’t spare him another glance, handing over the list to Jimin, who does a once over at the paper. "Don't puncture any of the organs. Hoseok got a real talking to from one of the customers last time.”

“Wasn’t that due to your careless handling?” Jimin smiles sweetly, his hands rubbing circles over Jungkook's forearms as he talks.

“If you were here, that could’ve all been avoided.” They both get accusatory looks.

"Alright, hyung. I'll try to make sure we’re careful,” Jimin agrees.

“We’re always careful,” Jungkook murmurs.

Yoongi purses his lips at Jungkook. “Yeah fucking right…”

Jungkook doesn’t react like Yoongi wants him to, instead he buries his nose in Jimin's hair, and breathes in the scent of his shampoo to soothe himself. Jimin isn’t concerned, doesn’t flinch, too focused on the list. At that, Yoongi cracks the smallest of smirks, watching Jungkook nuzzle his lover.

When the younger notices his look, he lowers his eyes to the coolers. There’s something that bugs him about Yoongi. Apart from his malicious attitude, Jungkook thinks that Yoongi has the potential to go far in life outside of the black market. He wonders why he’d chosen this life. Jimin has his reasons, what are Yoongi’s?

“What?” the raven-haired man raises his eyebrows at him.

“Nothing.” Jungkook shakes his head.

“Just spit it the fuck out,” Yoongi sighs.

“How do you do it?” he asks, finding a part of himself that’s willing to set aside his pride for answers.

“Do what?” Yoongi replies.

“This. How do you live with it?” Jungkook’s eyebrows pinch.

“Having second thoughts?”

“No. No. Just wondering…”

"It's a job, kid. You do what you have to do to survive," Yoongi tells him shortly.

Jungkook gives him no reply, only presses his face back into Jimin's hair.

They stay for a while longer, Jimin mostly wanting to catch up on the events he’s missed during his getaway with Jungkook. Yoongi tells him that there hasn’t been much going on. Apart from their usual celebrations and get-togethers at Namjoon’s place, Jimin didn’t miss much at all. Jungkook is silent throughout this discussion too, whereas he was all talk before. He entertains himself by feeling the fuck out of Jimin instead; his hands roam freely, from Jimin’s hair, down to his neck, shoulders, arms, back to his chest to slide down his sides, then finally to splay his fingers over Jimin’s stomach. It would be impossible for Yoongi not to notice.

“He's about to hump your fucking leg. You sure you don't want me to neuter him myself?" Yoongi inquires with a sly grin.

Jungkook almost hauls himself across the table again. If it wasn’t for Jimin being in-between them, Yoongi could very well have an angry human biting at his ankles by now.

"I'm going to seriously let him bite you if you keep talking like that, hyung," Jimin cackles. Though his voice is chipper, there's an underlying threat there. "Besides… I like him untrained.”  He turns his head to pat Jungkook's cheek. "I like him with a lot of bite..."

Jungkook spins him around and kisses him again. Jimin’s hands fly to fist in Jungkook’s shirt, the younger’s hands sliding and twisting in his hair. This time, there’s no holding back. Jungkook nearly devours Jimin's whole mouth. Tongues slide, teeth close over lips. There’s more saliva than necessary, however, they both like it sloppy. The kiss is too passionate, too intimate that Yoongi scrunches up his nose and looks away.

"Urgh...get the fuck out of my lab if you’re gonna do that," he says, shooing them out with a wave of his hand.

Jungkook turns to regard him with a smirk, Jimin whining keenly the moment their lips part. "You sure you don't want to see me...hump his leg?"

"How you get off is none of my fucking business.” Yoongi waves them off dismissively.

“We'll see you in a little while, hyung. I'll make sure to have what you need," Jimin promises, storing the list into his pocket, then drags Jungkook out of the room.

"See you later, pup," Yoongi calls after Jungkook. "Have a bone on me, yeah?" he laughs then immediately regrets it when Jungkook smiles back.

"I will, Yoongi-hyung. I will," Jungkook response, leering at Jimin, whose giggles echo down the hallway to the exit.



The world likes to test him, that’s what Jungkook thinks.

It’s no secret that he and Jimin experiment in the bedroom. Jimin makes a few online purchases now and then for the sole purpose of ‘spicing things up’. Jungkook often goes along with it, trusting his lover to know what he’ll like. There has never been anything Jimin has introduced him to that Jungkook didn’t like. That is, until this very moment. If he could, Jungkook would take a time machine back to the early hours of that day and punch Yoongi square in the mouth.  Shut him up, maybe break a few front teeth while he’s at it. But sadly, Jungkook can’t. So, he’s left with a new issue.

Yoongi’s rude puppy comments about him have given Jimin a few ideas. Ideas that involve a collar, a leash, and Jungkook without any clothes other than his boxer briefs. Maybe he wouldn’t need a time machine. He can still punch Yoongi in the mouth the next time he sees him.

"Who's a good puppy, huh?" Jimin giggles, petting his hand through Jungkook's hair then down his neck, fingertips brushing over the expensive leather of the collar that’s fastened around the younger’s neck. "Who's my good boy?" he coos.

Jungkook sits on the floor at the bottom of the bed, Jimin on the edge with nothing but a robe to allow him some decency. It gives Jungkook a nice view of his legs, his feet small but his legs muscular. Jungkook wasn’t given much time to prepare for this new role, Jimin telling him that he had enough practise during their visit to Yoongi’s lab. He supposes that’s what makes it exciting, and although he’s disgruntled by the role he’s given, the sting of arousal at his navel says that he’s more than a little eager to get started.

Jungkook shifts, his legs folded and spread under him. His cock is already twitching at the praise thrown his way. His cheeks are pink, betraying his grumpy expression.

Jimin leans down and tugs on Jungkook's collar with his free hand, while the other grips the leash. "Such a pretty pup. Who do you belong to, baby?" He scratches under Jungkook's jaw, and the younger growls in warning, eyes flashing. "Ohh...I guess your owner hasn't trained you that well yet, huh?" Jimin smirks, stroking the side of Jungkook's face.

The younger nearly takes a snap at his fingers, but thinks better of it.

Keeping a tight grasp on the leash, as if Jimin truly believes that Jungkook will run away, he draws him closer, tugging him up so he sits between Jimin’s open legs. "I asked you a question," he whispers. "Who's your owner, baby?" he asks again.

Jungkook presses his lips together. When he doesn't answer again, Jimin presses the ball of his foot down against the tent in his boxers.

"Jungkookie..." he calls in a sing-song. "Didn't I ask you a question?" he pouts, widening his eyes.

Jungkook whines breathily, trying to grinding himself up against Jimin's foot. "Y-You are, J-Jiminie. Y-You're my owner," he whimpers.

Jimin smiles, pleased, by the reaction he gets. He kneads his foot down along the outline of Jungkook's cock and bites his lip at the whimper he gains. "Will you be obedient for me?" he asks, twirling the leash around his fingers. "You're my good little pup, aren't you?"

Jungkook tries to let out a growl again.

"Ooh...not a pup, huh?" Jimin teases. "Then what are you? My scary wolf? My big bad wolf, hm?" Jimin slides his foot along the length of his cock, toes curling over his length. "You don’t wanna be a puppy, do you? Do you?"

Jungkook scoots forward so he can stretch and nose along Jimin's bare thigh. If Jimin thinks he's a dog, then he should play the part. Turning his head slightly, Jungkook opens his mouth wide and bites down on Jimin's inner thigh.

"A-Ah!" Jimin moans. "F-Fuck...Bad puppy!" He yanks rudely on the leash, causing Jungkook to release, his teeth leaving throbbing marks.

He grumbles at being stopped, nose scrunching in displeasure.

Jimin grinds his foot harder against Jungkook's dick, feeling the strong twitch under his heel. "Hm...maybe I should've taken Yoongi-hyung's advice and neutered you," Jimin laughs softly and Jungkook snaps his head up to look at him with a glare. "Aw...but I would never do that, my love. Of course, I would never do that."

Jimin leans down and lets Jungkook lick over his lips like a slobbering dog, unsuccessfully trying to delve into his mouth.

"Giving me kisses, baby?" Jimin giggles, loosening his grip on the leash. He brings his free hand up and cups Jungkook's cheek. "You're so adorable. Want to come sit with me?" Jimin tilts his head.

Jungkook lets out a happy whine, nodding vigorously.

"Ah...but I probably shouldn't let you on the bed. You're still dirty after all."

Jungkook yips, keening sadly, swirling his hips and grinding up against Jimin's foot. "J-Jiminie...p-please. L-Let me on the bed..." He noses along Jimin's inner thigh again, kissing and licking, begging him to let him release.

"I don't think you've been quite good enough yet." Jimin shakes his head.

"M-Master, please...W-Wanna fuck you. W-Wanna fuck you so bad, please...Jiminie." Jungkook looks up at him with big puppy dog eyes.

Jimin is somewhat caught off guard from hearing Jungkook call him 'master', but it doesn't stop the heat from pooling heavily into his stomach. The burn going down, down, down. He twitches shamelessly under his robe, Jungkook too unaware, too occupied with his own lust. He's too far gone in the play, in the pleasure.

"What was that, baby?" Jimin asks, tugging on the leash to get him to look up. Jungkook's eyes are glazed over, cloudy and dark.

"Master – please – I-I don't want your foot. I...I want to be...i-inside," he moans as Jimin curls his toes around him, harder this time, more teasing. "I...I wanna fuck you so bad. Master, please, let me. I-I'll be a good boy. I swear I'll be a good boy, please..." he pleads.

Jimin watches him in amusement and hums. "If you get the bed dirty...I'm not letting you back on. Understand?" Jimin pulls his foot back and Jungkook lets out a groan at the lack of friction.

Jimin beckons Jungkook to climb onto the bed. Once up, the younger sits obediently and waits for Jimin’s next order. The older man is strangely proud and crawls closer to palm his cock above his boxers, his thumb sliding over a damp patch that has appeared over the head. “Such an obedient little pup you are, Jungkookie. So good for your master, aren’t you?” Jimin tips forward more and lets Jungkook dip his head into the crook of his neck. He licks a wet stripe up his throat before capturing his lips. He sucks and bites gently at his tongue, Jimin permitting the younger to do as he pleases for now. When he adds more pressure to his palm, Jungkook keens highly and bucks up into his hand.

“J-Jiminie…p-please don’t tease,” Jungkook croaks, his hands wanting to reach out and touch Jimin as well.

“I don’t know who you’re talking to,” Jimin smiles sadistically as he shoves one hand through Jungkook’s hair and grabs a handful of his locks. He wrenches his head back, making the younger expose his throat. “What did you say?”

“Mm!” Jungkook whimpers, squirming under Jimin’s palm. “M-Master. Master…p-please don’t tease me. Don’t. I wanna cum. I wanna cum inside you. D-Don’t wanna cum here…” he gasps for air, closing his eyes. He can’t growl, he can’t slap Jimin’s hands away and do whatever he wants. No, that would warrant more punishment. Jimin has the leash to his collar and he can’t disobey.

“You’ll cum where and when I want you to cum,” Jimin snaps, letting his hand leave his hair only for it to come down on Jungkook’s thigh. “Bad little pup!”

Jungkook yelps and bites his lip hard not to shout in pleasure.

For a second, Jimin wonders how much more fun he can have with Jungkook like this. It’s new, they’ve never done this before, but since everyone has been referring to the younger man as his pet as of late, he thinks he also wants to give it a try for a night.

“Come here, puppy.” Jimin lies back on the bed and spreads his legs, giving Jungkook a peek of his hard and pretty little cock from where he’s sitting. Jimin tugs once, twice, on his leash, making Jungkook crawl towards him on all fours. He makes it up to Jimin slowly, caging the older man with his hands on either side of his head. “You know you were behaving so well when we met Yoongi-hyung,” he praises, reaching up a hand to cup the back of Jungkook’s neck.

That’s a lie, Jungkook thinks. He didn’t behave that well at all.

“I should give you a treat, right?”

Jungkook’s breathing picks up when Jimin wraps both arms around him, though he never lets go of his leash.

“Undo my robe for me, baby?” he requests and Jungkook doesn’t spare a second longer before he’s dipping down. He takes the end of the little bow in the front of Jimin’s robe between his teeth and tugs until the sides fall off Jimin’s petite frame.

“Come up,” he commands and Jungkook, once again does as he’s told. “Go fetch the lube.”

Jimin’s testing his obedience. He’s making sure Jungkook can do as he’s commanded, and he does. Bringing the bottle of lube back from the top drawer of their nightstand, Jimin tells him to squirt half of the body over him. And before he knows it, Jimin’s lower half is wet and slimy, shiny with the lube.

“C-Can…Can I fuck you now, master?” Jungkook asks tentatively.

Jimin smiles and shakes his head. No. Not yet. However, what he does get is Jimin pulling his legs up to his chest, his hole on full display as the lube slides over his rim. Jimin clenches and some droplets slip through and Jungkook wishes he could do the same. But he can’t because Jimin’s telling him that he can fuck between his cheeks instead. Jungkook splays his hands over each cheek, his fingers effective getting coated in the lube. “I…I want to c-cum in you. I don’t-”

“Jungkook…you’re my good boy, aren’t you?” Jimin cuts him off. “Take what you can get. Don’t be an ungrateful little mutt.”

Jungkook worries his lips as he kicks off his boxers and grabs the base of his cock. He presses the flushed head to his hole, catching against it before he’s forced to miss it completely. His throbbing length slides smoothly between Jimin’s cheeks, the older man moaning and mewling headily.

“Like that, baby. Just like that…” Jimin watches him intently, making sure he’s not doing anything without his permission. Jungkook wouldn’t if he could.

It’s agony. The friction is good but it’s not enough. He needs more. He fucking needs more. And Jimin’s such a fucking tease. He clenches and twitches whenever Jungkook rubs over him, as though he’s trying to draw him inside. That’s the worst kind of torture.

Jungkook doesn’t know how long he fucks between Jimin’s cheeks. He’s gotten so delirious, his head so amazingly blank he doesn’t register how long it’s been. Jimin encourages him through it all, tells him what a good puppy he’s being and Jungkook whines and whimpers. He feels loved with each word that rolls off Jimin’s tongue and he wants to praise him back but he doesn’t have the right to today. He’s the pet today, he’s the one that must do as he’s told.


Getting carried away, Jungkook doesn’t realise that the head of his cock is prodding at Jimin’s rim once more. Before he can prevent it from happening, he slips in half way and Jimin looks positively livid at him.

“Bad pup!” he says again and again, wrenching on his leash hard enough that Jungkook’s sure it’ll leave marks the next morning. He slips out before he’s shoved off, Jimin’s foot coming to press into his shoulder to keep him at a distance. “What did I tell you?!”

“I…I couldn’t p-put my cock inside yet,” Jungkook replies through clenched teeth.

“And why did you disobey your master, mutt?” Jimin asks.

Then suddenly, Jungkook’s baring his teeth at him. His ‘hackles’ rising in anger and frustration. He can’t be the good little pup anymore. He can’t do it anymore. He’s not a fucking dog!

“Jungkook!” Jimin scolds, digging his heel into his shoulder.

Jungkook’s had enough.

“Fuck it.”

Grabbing Jimin’s ankle, Jungkook twists until the older man is forced to roll onto his stomach to escape the pain. “You want a fucking pet? That what you want?!” Jungkook snarls as he puts his weight onto Jimin’s kicking legs.

Jimin yells at him, reprimands him, but Jungkook’s paying no mind. He instead focuses on parting Jimin’s cheeks, and the older shrieks in surprise when he feels his tongue lap at his rim. Jungkook doesn’t go slow, doesn’t go gentle. He eats him out fast and rough, like he’s been starving for days. Jimin can’t do anything about his suddenly turned bad puppy, but clutch onto the pillows and let Jungkook fuck him with his tongue.

“What’s wrong, master? Am I not obedient enough for you now?”

Jimin’s shaking as he looks back over his shoulder. “B-Bad! Bad! Bad! I-I didn’t tell you to use your tongue!” he groans, his fingers hanging onto the leash for dear life as Jungkook jabs and prods his hole with the tip of his tongue. “N-No! I-I didn’t t-tell…you…to…Ah!” Jimin squeals in surprise as Jungkook shoves in deep, licking along his walls. “I…I should get you neutered…”

“Ah…but you won’t. You need this cock too much,” Jungkook smirks.

Jimin’s legs lose strength with each lick and Jungkook knows. He’s done this a million times, he knows Jimin loves to be eaten out. Jimin hates to lose control when he’s had a taste of it. Jungkook doesn’t like to play nice either so he sits back up, bringing Jimin along with him so that he’s on his knees, ass high in the air. “Tell me I’m a good boy, Jiminie,” Jungkook mocks, rubbing his cock between his cheeks again. This time, he has the upper hand. He’s not the one begging to fuck, it’s Jimin’s turn to beg to be fucked. Well, that’s what he hopes.

It’s not that easy. Jimin doesn’t give up easy, he doesn’t let him do as he pleases this time despite how weak his legs are turning.

Twisting the leash around his wrist, Jimin twists out of Jungkook’s grasp and pushes him over so that he lands on his back. Thankfully, their bed is huge enough for Jungkook not to completely fall off the side. “Who fucking taught you to be this disobedient, mutt?” Jimin climbs over him and plants his ass right onto his crotch, Jungkook’s cock bouncing slightly against one of his cheeks. Jimin’s so sticky and wet from the lube that he knows they’ll have to throw away the sheets later. “Who did you learn that from, because I’m sure as fuck it wasn’t me.” Jimin tugs him up slightly by his collar and Jungkook’s shows off his canines again, growling through his teeth. He’s defiant.

“Guess what you’ve done now? You don’t get to fuck me anymore. But…that doesn’t mean I can’t ride you,” Jimin leers. He reaches behind him and lines Jungkook up to his rim. “Such a big cock…fuck…” Jimin sinks down onto him slowly, and all Jungkook can do is claw at the sheets, thinking that maybe he could rip it to shreds.

“Such…a…bad…dog…” Jimin says between breathy moans. The second that Jungkook lifts his hands to touch him, Jimin’s eyes flash to him dangerously. “Touch me and you won’t get to fuck me ever again,” he snaps, rolling his hips down until Jungkook can feel the curve of his ass meet his thighs.

Jungkook presses his lips together, the veins on his neck popping as he strains to see what’s happening between them.

“Wanna fuck me, puppy?” Jimin taunts, nodding mockingly. “Wanna fuck my pretty hole? You can’t…only good pups get to do that. And you haven’t been a good boy for me.”

Jungkook’s chest heaves as Jimin stays up, unmoving, teasing him, taunting him. He wants to bark out a command, tell him to move or he was going to do it himself, but the collar around his neck tells him that it’s not a good idea to test Jimin right now. The older man still has a hold on him, he has an advantage and Jungkook doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that he’s so powerless. It’s never good when Jungkook is powerless.

“What’s wrong, Jungkookie?” Jimin draws patterns idly over his chest, grinding his ass up and down but not moving enough to give Jungkook what he wants. “Want me to move faster? Want me to fuck you good?” he asks and Jungkook nods his head eagerly.

“Then earn it.”

Jungkook clenches his teeth together, his jaw working furiously to stop himself from snapping his hips up into Jimin’s hot tight heat. He’s only been in this position once. Where Jimin tells him that he can’t touch, he can’t do anything but be still and take it. It’s happened once, only one time, and that had been when Jungkook had gone against Jimin’s wishes and went after the police chief’s daughter in a small town they travelled through, killing her that night. They almost got caught, and the moment they escaped town, Jimin had refused to let Jungkook touch him whilst he fucked himself on his cock. His wrists and ankles had been tied to the bed post, and when Jimin was done, came all over his stomach, he left Jungkook there. Having yet to cum, Jimin left him and went to go fix his mess.

This was somewhat the same, but this time, he hadn’t killed anyone without Jimin’s consent. No, this time, Jungkook had just been a disobedient dog to his master.

“You’re not paying attention!” Jungkook suddenly feels a harsh smack land on his cheek. There was barely any sting to it, Jimin would never hurt him, but the shock brought him back to the present. He’s not tied up, he’s not restrained, and that’s probably worse than when he was. “Did I fucking tell you to daydream? What were you thinking about, huh?!” Jimin lifts up from his cock and then sits back down, making Jungkook grind his teeth together.

“N-Nothing, m-master. N-Nothing…” Jungkook manages through laboured pants. He tries to flex his hips for more, but Jimin grabs his hair again, slamming his head back down onto the bed. Again, it doesn’t hurt, but fuck, every movement and every bounce they make has Jimin grinding down on his cock, his walls clamping around him so deliciously it has him seeing nothing. A blackness behind his eyelids.

“Then don’t. Fucking. Look. Away. From. Me.” Jimin grits.

When it’s going too slow, too torturous, Jungkook feels like snapping.

Every bone in his body screams for him to just stay still, take his punishment quietly and he’ll get to fuck Jimin a much as he wants soon. If he can stay good for a while longer, just a few more minutes, maybe Jimin will show him some pity.  

It never comes. Jimin continues to do nothing. He goes too slow, too lazy, and Jungkook’s orgasm drifts further and further away.

So, he takes charge, because nothing will get done if he doesn’t.

“I can’t fucking take this anymore.”

Jungkook tips over the edge and everything turns red. The next time he comes to, he has Jimin pinned beneath him, watching him with pleased eyes. Jungkook’s had enough, he’s sick of Jimin’s games, and his little play. It drives him mad how easily he lets Jimin control him. Enough was enough.

“It’s alright, puppy,” Jimin pets his collar and leans up to flick his tongue over his bottom lip, over the little mole he has right under it. “Fuck me. You can do that for your maser, can’t you? Fuck me nice and hard until I’m wobbling tomorrow. I wanna be sore,” he moans as Jungkook slides back into the hilt. “I wanna feel it tomorrow morning. I want you to cum in me, make me all warm inside.”

Jungkook complies. He doesn’t let Jimin breathe before he’s fucking into him viciously, his thrusts causing the springs in their bed to squeak and the headboard to bang against the wall. He’s shaking the frame, fucking Jimin until the top of his head meets the hardwood panel at the top of the bed.

“F-Fuck!” Jimin’s shriek rattles out of him, the crown of his head meeting the headboard over and over as Jungkook ruts his cock into his already abused hole. Jimin moves with him, fucks down to meet him, clamps himself around him to try and keep him inside for as long as he can. “Y-Yes! P-Please…yes…J-Jungkook!” Jimin holds onto the leash with one hand, the other onto Jungkook’s shoulder, his nails digging and scratching in marks over his shoulder blade. “Yes…right there…” he says, his voice clearer as he gives the command. “Right there, baby. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! God…y-yes…” Jimin’s on the verge of tears, as he always is when Jungkook is being rougher than usual. “W-What a good boy. My good puppy, fucking your master so good…” he whines in Jungkook’s ear. “My good little mutt-fuck yeah…like that…just like that, baby…”

“I wanna cum…f-fuck!” Jungkook listens beyond Jimin’s mewls and groans, he listens to the sloppiness of the way he fucks into Jimin. He listens to the wet smacks his hips and balls make when they meet Jimin’s slimy skin. “W-Wanna watch my cum leak out of you. W-Wanna see that puffy little hole leak my cum…”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Yes…yes…I want you to cum inside…W-Wanna be so full again…”

Jimin cums first. With an obscene roll of his hips, Jimin’s cumming hard all over his stomach and chest, some hitting him on his chin. Jungkook watches in a daze, cumming not a second later, his hips jerking and stuttering into the smaller man. The bundle of heat in his stomach unravels, sending shots of electricity to ricochet up his spine. He holds his cock inside, keeping Jimin plugged up until he pulls out and spreads Jimin’s cheeks to watch the trickle of semen roll down his ass, pooling onto the sheet. Jimin’s hole is gaping open, red and used, and Jungkook can’t resist giving his rim a few soothing licks, evoking a high-pitched noise from Jimin.

“G-Good…boy…W-What a good boy you are, Jungkookie…” Jimin whispers, moving his ass down to meet Jungkook’s tongue. He’s sensitive and sore in all the right places. “C’mere. Let’s take that collar off…”

Jungkook wipes his chin and crawls up to Jimin, letting his master do it for him rather than doing it himself. Jimin unbuckles the front, throws the collar off the bed once it’s off and pulls Jungkook into a kiss. “Do you know who your master is now, baby?” Jimin mumbles against his lips, looking so fucked out and blissful.

“It’s you, Jiminie,” Jungkook answers with a small playful eye roll.

Later that night, when Jungkook is passed out cold, his arm hanging off one side of the bed with the covers draped loosely over his naked lower-half, Jimin lies himself gently over his chest while reaching for his phone. He sends a short text to Yoongi, knowing the man will be awake.

“Mutt has been tamed. But I can’t guarantee he won’t bite the next time he sees you.”