Kill to Kiss You

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/23930416.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: M/M
Fandom: 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung | V
Character: Jeon Jungkook, Kim Taehyung | V, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Min Yoongi |
Suga, Park Jimin (BTS), Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Kim Namjoon | RM,
Park Bogum, Choi Minho, Park Seo Joon, Original Male Character(s),
Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: taekook, vkook, mafia a/u, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Gang
Violence, Mob Boss Jeon Jungkook, Gang Member Min Yoongi, gang
member kim seokjin, gang member kim namjoon, pimp jung hoseok,
Hobi's a pimp!, Escort Kim Taehyung | V, Virgin Kim Taehyung | V,
Explicit Sexual Content, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Morality,
Hate to Love, Emotional Slow Burn, smut in the first chapter, Jeon
Jungkook is Bad at Feelings, Sex, Violence, sex and violence, Abuse,
Verbal Abuse, threats of rape, Top Jeon Jungkook, Bottom Kim
Taehyung | V, side yoonmin, Aged-Up Jeon Jungkook, Dom/sub
Undertones, Dysfunctional Relationships, dark themes, Escort Park
Jimin, Age Difference, Hate Sex, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance,
Angst, So much angst, Angst to the nth degree
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of KTKY series
Collections: taekook fics i have read, 100k+ Long finished fics, the best, tk,
TaekookficsIlove , would read again, VK reads, finished reads, finished
one shots, taekook best, ♡, Completed_YoYo74r4, TaeKook, all time
bts favorites, Not Read Yet TK, NeedToReadYas, Stories I have loved,
TK fics everyone should read
Stats: Published: 2020-05-01 Completed: 2020-10-31 Words: 198,068
Chapters: 16/16

Kill to Kiss You

by suicidebybooks

Summary

Jeon Jungkook, the newly minted leader of the Yong Jegug, carries the weight of his fragile
empire on his shoulders. Desperate for a distraction, he goes to a notorious underworld
brothel where Kim Taehyung, temptation wrapped in silk and lace, is auctioning off his
virginity.

Notes
 So, mafia a/u--you guys know the drill. This fic will contain violence, dubious
morality/consent, and features characters doing really not very nice things. If that's not your
cup of tea, don't read it.

This is not lovable asshole Jungkook like I've written before. This is villainous, cruel
Jungkook (at least at the start of the story.) If that characterization makes you
uncomfortable, don't read it.

There is a sex scene in this first chapter that features degradation, dubious consent, and
threats of rape. If that kind of thing is triggering for you, don't read it.

Of course this story is not meant to be representative of any of the members of BTS and the
characters are simply inspired by them.

Just another note: In this fic, Jungkook is around 26 years old and Taehyung is 19 years old.
Also, this the first story I've written that is set in Seoul and not a nameless, generic city.
While I do my research and strive for accuracy I'm not always going to get things right and
there will be things I take artistic liberties with - for example, I play pretty fast and loose
with honorifics.

Okay, I think that's enough warnings and notes. If you choose to read it, I hope you enjoy!

See the end of the work for more notes

 Chapter 1

Jungkook steps into the cavernous warehouse, the coppery tang of blood immediately filling his
nostrils. Not a comforting scent, exactly, but a familiar one. The way dishsoap and laundry
detergent is familiar to other people. Normal ones with day jobs and grocery lists and dogs who
serve as housepets and not as guards who have been trained to rip someone’s testicles off. He
wonders what the average citizen’s reaction would be if they ever came across a sight like the one
Jungkook is currently walking up to. Projectile vomiting would just be the start.

Jungkook stops just at the edge of the pool of blood staining the concrete floor, chunks of gore and
brain matter leaking from what used to be a man’s head but what now resembles a smashed melon.
He looks down at the mess with his hands shoved in his pockets, as if he’s observing an ugly,
faded carpet or a floor that needs repairing.

“Well,” he says to Yoongi, standing on the other side of the blood pool. “Did he talk?”

“Not much,” Yoongi says casually, wiping his hands on a rag. “Didn’t tell me anything that we
don’t already know. ‘He’s fled the country, no one knows where he is.’ Shit like that.”

Jungkook studies the body, limbs twisted at odd angles, one blank dead eye staring up at him; the
other one has been gouged out. He looks up at Yoongi. “Were you…thorough?”

Yoongi’s jaw tightens, still concentrating on cleaning his hands with the rag. “Do you have any
reason to think I wouldn’t be?”

“That’s not an answer.”

Yoongi sighs, tossing the rag down, finally lifting his head to meet Jungkook’s gaze. “I started with
the hammer,” he says, “breaking every bone in his hands and then his feet, asking him if he knew
anything. He wasn’t providing me with any useful information so I started in on his arms and his
legs. He continued to deny any knowledge of his whereabouts, even when I scooped out his eyeball
and extracted his teeth. At that point, he was pretty useless, so I put him out of his misery.” His
face is a careful mask of indifference as he stares across the body at Jungkook. “Does that sound
thorough enough to you, boss?”

“It does but it seems we’ve hit yet another dead end. It makes me wonder about your commitment
to finding him.”

“Are you questioning my loyalty?” The unspoken word hovers in the air between them.

Again?

“I need to be thorough in my own way, Yoongi,” Jungkook says. “You know that.”

“Understood,” Yoongi says stiffly. “We’ll keep looking. We’ll find him.”

“Hmm.” Jungkook jerks his head at the body. “Get a cleanup crew in here to take care of this
mess.”

He starts to walk away but then his phone buzzes, exactly at the same time that Yoongi’s does and
he takes it out of his pocket, checking the screen.
>dove @ the BirdCage tonight<

He rolls his eyes, going to slip his phone back in his pocket when it buzzes again, displaying a
message that only contains a single letter.

>M<

“A male dove?” Yoongi says, frowning at his own screen. “That’s unusual.”

“Not so unusual,” Jungkook says indifferently, putting his phone away. “There was one only last
year. Remember?”

Yoongi’s eyes flick up to Jungkook, accusation passing over his face for a split second before he
reels it back in. “Yeah, I remember,” he says gruffly. “It’s just women are usually more common
for that sort of thing.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond to that, just heads out of the warehouse and back to the Lincoln
Continental waiting outside in the darkness. Jin, who’s been leaning against the car smoking a
cigarette, quickly stubs it out as he sees Jungkook approach, opening the back door for him and
Yoongi.

Jungkook stares out the window as Jin drives them out of the docks and back into downtown Seoul,
vaguely listening to Yoongi’s conversation to the gang member who’s charged with taking care of
the body dumps. Yet another body dumped into yet another river. And yet another colossal
fucking waste of his time.

Yoongi hangs up his phone, leather creaking as he shifts on his seat. “You think we should go
check it out at the Bird Cage? Make sure everything’s…legitimate?”

Jungkook snorts. “You just want to go see that little whore that you’re so fond of.” He taps his
fingers against his knee, not looking at him. “And I believe I told you to stay away from him.”

“I’ll kill whoever you want me to, boss,” Yoongi says in a long-suffering voice. “But it’ll be a cold
day in hell before I allow you to tell me which whore I can fuck.”

“Oh, so he’s just a whore now, is he?” Jungkook says, casting a sideways glance at him. “That’s
funny, I could have sworn you two were on a first-name basis. What was his name again, Yoongi?
Wasn’t it something like Park Jim－”

“Never mind what his name is,” Yoongi says harshly. Jungkook merely looks at him, waiting
patiently and Yoongi relents. “That’s not the reason I want to go there. With a male dove at the
Cage, things might get heated if we don’t show our faces, let them know that things are still under
our control. We don’t need to deal with a petty gang war breaking out over some new whore.
We’ve got enough problems to deal with as it is.” He runs his hands down the front of his jacket,
straightening his lapels. “And while we’re there, I can try and get some new leads. I bet you
anything there’s going to be a leader or representative from each group bidding on that dove
tonight.”

“So the reason you want to go there is to gather information? Nothing else?”
Yoongi gives him a curt nod. “And to check on Hobi. Make sure he hasn’t done anything that goes
against our code when he acquired this new dove.”

Jungkook considers Yoongi, pursing his lips but Yoongi simply looks back at him, his expression
neutral.

“Jin,” Jungkook calls to the front seat, his eyes still on Yoongi. “Take us to the Cage.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

***

They reach the casino and descend underground in an elevator to the Bird Cage. Yoongi has called
ahead to let them know that Jungkook would be putting in an appearance so as soon as the elevator
doors slide open, Hoseok is already on the other side, his face arranged into a broad smile.

“JKaaaaaay,” he says brightly, arms spread open wide, peering at him over the top of his tinted
aviator sunglasses. “Glad you could make it tonight. Here to check out the dove?” The bright
purple suit he’s wearing hurts Jungkook’s eyes.

Jungkook steps out into the long carpeted hallway. “Merely out of curiosity.” Hoseok falls into step
beside him while Yoongi trails behind. “And to make sure it was a clean acquisition.”

“Oh, JK,” Hoseok says, shaking his head and placing a dramatic hand on his chest. “You wound
me if you would think otherwise. Aren’t we pals? Aren’t we lifelong friends? Would I go behind
your back like that and fuck around?”

Jungkook stops and turns to look Hoseok in the face and Hoseok instantly quails, his broad smile
vanishing. “Uh, perfectly clean, I assure you.” Then he leans in close, a sly grin hovering over his
mouth again. “Do you wanna know where I found him?”

“Where?”

“A coffee shop.” Hoseok pulls back, laughing as if he had just told the world’s funniest joke. “A
fucking coffee shop! Can you believe it? And what a fucking prize he is,” he adds as they continue
on down the hallway. “Pretty face, gorgeous ass, holy fuck, he makes Chanmi look flat as a
fucking board. And not just a dove but a pure one. Pure as they fucking come.”

Jungkook stops in his tracks and turns to face Hoseok again, his eyebrows raised. “He’s never been
touched?”

Hoseok nods fervently. “Yup. Not by a man, not by a woman, not by anybody. Jesus Christ himself
would fucking bid on him.”

“How can you know for sure?”

“Did my usual background checks on the kid. Never had a girlfriend, boyfriend, nothing like that.
Not really any friends, either, no one-night stands tracing back to him. And I did the inspection
myself,” Hoseok continues, lowering his voice. “I guaran-fucking-tee you, nothing has been up
there. Not even a finger. Says he’s never done that to himself or anything.”
“He could be lying,” Jungkook says shortly. “You can’t tell with a guy like you can with one of
your girls.”

“True,” Hoseok admits. “That’s always a risk you take with the boys. But I swear, this kid’s the
real deal.”

“How old?”

“Nineteen.” Hoseok grins, clenching his fists excitedly. “He’s gonna rake in tons of cash for me
tonight, JK, I can feel it in my fucking balls!”

“For us, you mean,” Jungkook reminds him. As someone who owned a large share of the Bird
Cage as well as the casino sitting on top of it, any money it made funneled back to him,
strengthening his empire.

“O-of course,” Hoseok says, looking a bit flustered. “That’s, er, what I meant.”

They approach a set of polished mahogany doors and one of Hoseok’s goons standing guard bows
them through and they step into the main room of the Bird Cage. It’s enormous, nearly as big as
the warehouse Jungkook had just come from but the interior couldn’t be more different. Dimly lit
chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting the room in shades of shadowed gold. Jungkook’s shoes
sink into the plush velvet carpet, a red one like the kind celebrities walk down at award shows.
Hoseok always insists on calling it a ‘scarlet’ red but to Jungkook, it’s always resembled the colour
of blood. The walls are papered in gilded red and gold brocade with the exception of one, which is
covered by a massive red velvet curtain hiding a tremendous screen used on auction nights to
display the bids. The bids are always done anonymously but Jungkook has witnessed a few knife
fights break out over the auction of a particularly desirable whore. Usually a dove. So it’s probably
a good thing that Yoongi persuaded him to come tonight, so they can maintain order, so the other
gang leaders will see his face and show him the respect he deserves. Just like they had for his
father.

But he’s not thinking about that right now.

There are small cloth-covered tables placed around the edges of the room, each one equipped with
a laptop where the men sit and enter their bids once the auction starts. But it’s the cages that take
up the majority of the room, suspended from the ceiling and hovering a few feet off the ground.

The cages are what give the brothel its name. (Although, Hoseok prefers to call it a ‘palace of
pleasure.’) Instead of having his whores stand behind clear glass for the men to pick from, Hoseok
has them in enormous bird cages, complete with swings that the girls (and sometimes boys) sit on,
looking out at their potential buyers from behind the bars. And all of the escorts are coded with
bird names to distinguish their particular features or talents: peacocks for exceptionally beautiful
whores, birds of paradise for those coming from exotic locations outside of Korea, and swallows
for whores who really knew how to deep-throat.

And, of course, there are the doves: sexually naive virgins, the most sought-after and expensive.
Because finding a virgin is nearly impossible these days, much less one who wants to auction off
their virginity. And finding a male virgin was like finding the Holy Grail. Gay or straight, men
were ready to kill each other over a male dove just so they could add one to their collection of
conquests. Winning any type of dove granted a gang member with a certain amount of status but
winning a male dove was tantamount to announcing that you had a cock big enough to skull-fuck
the entire city if you wanted to.

“Look,” Hoseok says, pointing to a cage in the middle of the room. “That’s the one our little dove’s
in.”

The cage is already surrounded by a large group of men and Jungkook can’t see inside. “What time
does the auction start?” he asks Hoseok.

“Let’s see…” Hoseok says, checking his Rolex. “Shit, fifteen minutes! I’ll be right back, gotta go
check with security and make sure the guys doing the rigging start on time.” He hustles away
through the door they had just come through.

“What do you think?” Yoongi says. “Planning on bidding?”

“Fuck no,” Jungkook says. “Waste of fucking money. I’ll pick out a whore who actually knows
how to suck a dick already, thank you very much.”

“Right,” Yoongi mutters. “Waste of money. Still,” he adds, “couldn’t hurt to make the others
think that you’re bidding. If you don’t, they might get the impression that you’re, you know, not in
a position to bid.”

“We still own the whole fucking city, Yoongi,” Jungkook growls. “One fucking mishap doesn’t
change that.”

“Then remind them, boss,” Yoongi says sharply, stepping closer to him. “Because there’s been too
much speculation since that fucking ‘mishap’ that the Yong Jegug is starting to crumble. We show
any type of weakness or vulnerability, even at a fucking auction, the other leaders will take that as
their cue to usurp us and we’ll be fucked.”

“I’ll handle it,” Jungkook says, lowering his voice to a deadly whisper. “Now why don’t you go
find that little whore, Jimin, and take the night off to get your dick wet. Go on, you have my
permission for tonight.”

“Boss－”

“I said I’ll take care of it. Now get the fuck out of my face.”

Yoongi steps back from him, his face tight with anger. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll get Jin down here to
guard you for the rest of the night.”

“You do that.”

Yoongi storms off, seemingly in a random direction but Jungkook knows, by the way his head
swivels around, peering into the cages, that he’s looking for Jimin already.

Jungkook sighs, tilting his head to the side, cracking his neck. Exhaustion is stealing over him and
he doesn’t even want to be here, all he wants is to go home, knock back a couple of drinks and then
go to bed.

But Yoongi’s right. He has a reputation to maintain, the entirety of his empire sitting precariously
on his shoulders and he will not let it crumble away into nothing. So if feigning interest in some
overrated virgin will quell the speculation running rampant in the streets, he’ll do it.

Jungkook strides over to the cage, where the majority of the men in the room are clustered around
it, packed in a tight circle, jostling each other and Jungkook is immediately reminded of a pack of
dogs fighting over a scrap of meat. Dove auctions can get messy so Jungkook makes sure he knows
where his switchblade is as he approaches the group.
The men turn, recognizing him, dipping into respectful bows and stepping aside to make room for
him. Although, Jungkook notes that the bows are not as low as they should be. And one man, Baek
Hyeon, leader of the Kkachi gang, attempts to stare him down for a few seconds before he stands
back, inclining his head and waving him forward with a mocking smile. Whispers travel around the
group like hissing snakes and Jungkook picks out the words ‘nothing like his father’ and ‘such a
fucking shame’ and ‘too young, he’s too young…’”

He ignores them as he makes his way to the front of the cage, his eyes falling on the small placard
that displays the dove’s name.

V.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. V for virgin. Very clever, Hobi.

Another man steps aside for him and he’s standing right in front of the cage now, gazing in through
the bars at the boy inside.

He’s sitting on the swing, eyes cast downward, long legs crossed demurely at the ankles. Wearing
all white like a bride, a sheer, lacy blouse covering his upper half, white satin shorts and sheer
white stockings covering his lower half. Garter straps are clipped to the top of the stockings,
stretched tight over his thighs, disappearing into the tiny shorts. Hoseok has obviously made an
effort to highlight the boy’s supposed ‘purity’ in order to fetch a higher price for him but Jungkook
thinks he looks a bit ridiculous, like he belongs on top of a wedding cake.

The boy’s still staring at the floor and Jungkook can’t get a good look at his face. His wavy black
hair is cut just a shade too long, his bangs falling into his eyes, strands curling at the nape of his
neck in what could almost be considered a mullet. There doesn’t seem to be anything particularly
special about him, unless his ass turns out to be as remarkable as Hoseok claimed. But even then,
so what? There were plenty of other whores with more experience and the savage bidding wars
over doves had never made any sense to him. Why pay obscene amounts of money for an
inexperienced virgin when you could have whores who were actually good at their jobs already?

But the other men surrounding the cage are peering inside with barely disguised greed, lust laid
bare on their faces, not for the boy necessarily, but for the status he can give them. And that’s what
really matters in this world. Not guns or drugs or even money but status. Control. The power to
have something rare and unique set in front of you and being able to take it, keep it for yourself,
and not let anybody else have it.

“Exquisite, is he not?” Nam Kang-Dae, leader of the Imugi gang and an old friend of his father’s,
comes to stand beside him. He scratches at his beard, gazing into the cage as if he’s studying a
work of art. “We should consider ourselves fortunate to be able to witness such rarity, don’t you
think?”

“The one who wins him will certainly be honored to handle something so…pure.” It’s not
something he believes; it’s just what they expect him to say.

Nam Kang-Dae chuckles. “Ah, so you are planning on bidding.” He leans in close, whispering in
Jungkook’s ear. “A wise decision, my boy.”

Jungkook tilts his head in the barest nod, acknowledging the hint Kang-Dae has given him. Make
your presence known. Wield your power.

Or they will devour you.

He wraps a hand around one of the bars of the cage, leaning in as if he’s inspecting the boy, taking
a proper look. The boy is still sitting there, immobile, completely ignoring the men surrounding
him as if he’s unaware of their feverish observation, their crude remarks.

But, judging by the way his delicate hands are clenched tightly on the chains of the swing, he is
aware. And he’s afraid.

Look at me. The silent command comes unbidden to the front of his mind. Look at me.

The boy lifts his head, looks straight into Jungkook’s eyes－and Jungkook feels his hand
automatically tighten on the bar.

There is not a trace of fear on the boy’s handsome face. Instead, there is defiance in those shapely
brown eyes, fire and haughtiness, even though he’s nothing but a whore trussed up in frilly white
lingerie. Most whores simpered and pouted, batting their eyelashes at their potential buyers,
knowing that a seductive smile and vacant eyes tended to open chequebooks, even provide gifts
like jewelry and expensive clothing.

But this boy either doesn’t know that or simply doesn’t care. He glares at Jungkook, as if daring
him to say anything, to try and touch him. Jungkook has the distinct feeling that if any of the men
were to get in the cage with him, the boy would attempt to rip them to pieces.

He smirks. A tiger in dove’s clothing.

And Jungkook wants him now. He wants to break this boy, smother that fire that burns so fiercely
in his eyes, wants to make war upon this whore’s body, use him, humiliate him, degrade him until
he’s nothing but a weak and trembling mess, covered in Jungkook’s cum and begging, crying for
him to stop. He wants to take the inner strength that this boy clearly has and snuff it out, crush it to
dust in his fist. Because he is tired of the hissing whispers, the looks of doubt and uncertainty, and
he’s not going to allow anyone to defy him anymore. Not even with a look.

“Doves are a waste of fucking money if you ask me,” a loud voice says and Jungkook turns to see
Jwi Haechung standing at the side of the cage, staring in at the boy. Leader of the Kumiho
syndicate, a pathetic excuse for a criminal enterprise, made up of nothing but drug runners and
smugglers who too often got addicted to their own supply. Pockmarked and ugly with greasy hair
and yellow teeth, Jwi Haechung would have ended up with a bullet to the brain a long time ago if
he wasn’t also fiendishly clever, always managing to slip through the cracks, picking up the scraps
left to him by the bigger gangs like a hyena. And the older leaders view him with a kind of pitying
sort of fondness, as if he’s their court jester, someone who provides them with comic relief as long
as he remembers his place.

Jungkook hates his fucking guts.

“Come now, Jwi,” Kang-Dae says, “you’re telling me you wouldn’t want to share your bed with
such a beautiful boy?”

“Fuck no,” Jwi Haechung sneers. “I don’t care how fucking pretty he is or how tight his ass is, no
amount of so-called ‘purity’ can make up for the lack of experience. When it comes to fucking, I
want someone who’s good at handling the joystick, you know what I’m sayin’?”

The men guffaw at Jwi’s crudeness, at his ignorance but Jungkook sees right through the act. He’s
trying to undervalue the dove so the other men won’t bid on him, so Haechung can sweep in and
get him for a bargain price.
“I bet he’s never even sucked a dick before,” Jwi goes on. He looks into the cage, leering at the
boy. “Go on, don’t be shy, tell us. You ever have a dick in your mouth, sweetheart?”

The boy turns to look at Haechung, considering him with a look of bored contempt. “Well, they’ve
had me practicing on bananas the past couple of weeks,” he says lightly, his voice low and raspy,
“but if you’re planning on bidding, maybe I should have been practicing on baby carrots instead.”

There’s complete silence for a full five seconds before the men start roaring with laughter, heads
thrown back, gold teeth flashing.

“What a fucking mouth on him!” someone shouts. “Bet you anything he’ll turn out to be a fucking
wildcat in the sack!”

Jungkook doesn’t laugh. But he does feel a strange shiver of pride lick up his spine. Pride mixed
with an intensifying desire.

Jwi’s face is red with fury and he grips the bars of the cage with both hands, glaring at the boy.
“I’m gonna make you fucking pay for that, you stupid fucking whore,” he snarls. “I’m going to win
you and then I’m gonna fuck you raw until you fucking bleed－”

“Now, now,” Kang-Dae says, as if he’s admonishing a toddler. “We don’t threaten our beauties,
Jwi. We enjoy them.”

Jwi is still spitting with fury but the boy just looks away and Jungkook swears that he rolls his
eyes.

Jungkook doesn’t want Jwi to ruin this boy. No, he wants to do that himself. It will be a nice
distraction, ravishing him, making this uppity little whore beg and squeal and scream. And, god
knows, Jungkook can use a fucking distraction right now.

“Gentlemen,” Hoseok calls and they all turn to see him standing by the red velvet curtain. “If you’d
be so kind as to take your seats, we can begin the auction.” He grins at them, showing all his teeth.
“And I have a feeling that you’re all ready and raring to go.”

The men all chuckle jovially and then scatter to the tables, buzzing with excitement like a bunch of
teenagers just before a high school basketball game. Jungkook remains in front of the cage, gazing
in at the boy, his mind already spinning off into different scenarios once he’s won him, each one
ending with the boy begging him for mercy.

The boy stares back at him impassively, his eyes flicking over Jungkook’s body, taking him in. He
looks back into Jungkook’s face, raising an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed.

Don’t worry, honey. You will be.

“Okay, hoist him up,” he hears Hoseok whisper to the guys who control the rigging behind the
screen.

There’s a mechanical whine and then the cage jolts, ascending slowly towards the ceiling.
Jungkook steps back, his eyes still trained on the boy’s face and the boy watches him as he’s lifted
away, not once breaking eye contact.

Jungkook smirks at him and the boy tilts his head and raises his hand and for a second Jungkook
thinks he’s going to wave at him.

But then he fucking flips him off.

Jungkook stands there, gaping up at him until the cage ascends too high for him to see the boy and
his raised middle finger. The fucking balls on this kid.

He is definitely going to win him now. Not just to break him but to teach the little whore a fucking
lesson. Because it’s a matter of principle now.

He makes his way over to one of the tables where Jin is already sitting, waiting for him.

“Should be interesting tonight,” Jin says as Jungkook takes a seat beside him. “Hopefully not
too interesting, though.”

“We’ll be prepared if things kick off,” Jungkook says. He jerks his head at the laptop. “Get ready,
I’m planning on bidding.”

“Oh,” Jin says, hastily pulling the laptop towards him and typing in the code to unlock it. “Right.”

The velvet curtain opens to display the screen and Hoseok bounces over to Jungkook’s table,
snagging a chair and sitting on it backwards, resting his elbows on the back of it.

“This is gonna be good,” he says, gleefully rubbing his hands together. “My balls are fucking
tingling, man.”

“What’s your best guess?” Jungkook asks him, staring at the countdown to the start of the auction
displayed on the screen. Ten…nine…eight…

“Oh, fifty grand easily,” Hoseok replies. “I’m betting he’ll go for just as much as the dove last
year, if not more.”

“Hmm.” The bids were always done in American dollars, not just because the Bird Cage happened
to have a small clientele of international buyers but also because it was easier to display the
numbers on the screen.

Fifty grand, not bad, Jungkook thinks as the numbers count down. Might go as high as seventy but
that’s okay, if that’s what it takes to win…

He feels a shiver of anticipation as the countdown finally gets down to zero on the screen. He just
wants to have the auction over and done with so he can have the boy in one of the rooms, strip him
of that ridiculous lingerie, and fuck the defiance right out of him.

There’s a bell-like sound echoing around the room, signaling the start of the auction and ten grand
immediately flashes on the screen and skyrockets from there, climbing to twenty grand, twenty-
five, thirty, fifty, fifty-five…

“Oh shit,” Hoseok says, wriggling on the chair. “Shit, I fucking knew it.”

“Um, boss?” Jin says from beside Jungkook. “You want me to get in there or—”

“Just wait, Jin,” Jungkook says. “Don’t bid until I tell you to.”

The bid climbs to sixty grand and then goes higher in small increments, sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-
three until it suddenly jumps to eighty grand.

Eighty thousand dollars. For a fucking virgin.

Jungkook grinds his teeth. It’s already higher than he wanted to pay but it’s not like he can’t afford
it. And besides, part of any auction fee he pays to the Bird Cage will just end up back in his
pockets anyway so, really, it’s basically just a reinvestment into the place.

“Put in a hundred grand,” Jungkook says to Jin. “And let’s end this fucking thing.”

Jin looks a tad dubious but taps at the keyboard and then the number flashes up on the screen and
there are audible gasps around the room.

“Jesus,” Hoseok breathes. “This kid’s a fucking godsend.”

Jungkook blows out a breath, waiting impatiently for the automatic timer on the laptop screen to
finish counting down from five. There was only a window of five seconds allowed between bids so
once that number reached zero, the auction was over.

But just as the countdown reaches two, it resets because now someone has bid two hundred grand.

Jungkook stiffens in his chair, glaring at the screen. Which one of these fuckers dared to outbid
him?

“Five hundred,” he tells Jin and Jin quickly enters the bid. Surely, no one in here would bid higher
than that, the auction had already gone off the rails, the bids were out of control…

Five hundred grand flashes on the screen, quickly replaced by eight hundred.

Jungkook feels his jaw clench. Who else could be placing bids like that? Nam Kang-Dae? He had
certainly seemed enamoured by the boy, eager to collect him like he was a priceless Ming vase. It
couldn’t be Jwi Haechung, that fucking rat, he didn’t have that kind of money…did he?

The timer on the laptop screen counts down from five. Four…three…

Jungkook wavers, wondering if the kid is worth such an insane amount. He looks up at the cage
where he sits inside, swinging on the swing, seemingly oblivious to the chaos he has ignited.

He has to have him. He has to. There’s no way he can let him go now.

“One million,” he snaps at Jin.

Jin’s hands hesitate over the keyboard. “Boss, are you－”

“Do it.”

The number flashes on the screen and beside him, Hoseok is practically vibrating with excitement.

“Holy fuck,” he whispers. “Holy fuck.”

Jungkook ignores him, holding his breath as the timer counts down.

Three…two…one…

***

High above the floor, Taehyung sits in the cage, lazily allowing himself to swing back and forth,
his eyes closed, trying to calm his racing heartbeat, trying to block out the whispers far below,
trying not to think about what’s going to happen to him after the auction is over.

Breathe…just breathe…

The garter straps dig uncomfortably into his thighs and the stupid lace thong he’s wearing is giving
him a wedgie. Hoseok had clapped his hands and said he looked gorgeous once Taehyung had
finally managed to strap himself into the outfit provided for him and presented himself to the Bird
Cage’s eccentric owner.

“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead tonight, kid,” Hoseok had said, squeezing his hands and beaming
at him. “I guaran-fucking-tee it.”

Taehyung didn’t know about that. Isn’t sure why he would appeal to a bunch of criminals except
for the whole virginity thing. God, they had all been so disgusting, leering in at him through the
bars, openly discussing his face, his legs, his ass, as if he couldn’t hear what they were saying, as
if he were some sort of doll.

His skin crawls at the thought of one of them touching him, even the young, handsome one
wearing the black suit who had stared at Taehyung as if he fucking owned him already. That
fucker. If Taehyung hadn’t been in this stupid fucking cage, he would have punched him in the
face. But he had had to settle for flipping him off instead.

Fuck you, you son of a bitch.

Taehyung tries to remind himself of the money he’ll be making, the reason why he’s here in the
first place. Hoseok had promised him ten percent of his auction price, whatever it ends up being. A
few thousand, it sounded like, judging by what Hoseok had claimed that ‘doves’ had gone for in
the past.

Taehyung thinks the whole idea is moronic, that anyone who pays thousands of dollars for the
opportunity to fuck a virgin is clinically insane and should be checked into a mental hospital.
Either that, or they have way too much fucking money to burn.

“It’s what they like, sweetie,” Jimin had told him. “They get off on it. The majority of them are
sick fucks but…some of them aren’t so bad. Maybe you’ll get lucky like I did.”

Lucky. Ha. Yeah, that’s why he’s sitting in a cage ready to auction off his virginity to the highest
bidder. Because he’s lucky.

God, how did I end up here?

He thinks back over the last few years of his life, wondering what it was that had set him on the
path to end up in a place like this. Was it the thing that had happened when he was fifteen that had
shoved him in this inevitable direction, the thing that had devastated him, when his mother had－

But no, he won’t think about that. He’s not going to think about her in a place like this.

Fifteen years old, his entire world upended, on his own in Seoul, dropping out of school to work at
the little coffee shop where she had worked just so he could support himself, put food in his mouth.

But working for minimum wage was not enough to put a roof over his head, the overdue rent
notices piling up while she had been…in that place and once she had gone and left him, Taehyung
had returned to their apartment to find an eviction notice on the door and their meager belongings
piled outside in a couple of small cardboard boxes.
He threw away most of it, keeping a few changes of clothes and a single photograph. He didn’t
have any room for anything else, no place to put it.

Lee Gwang-Jin, the owner of the coffee shop, had provided him with a small cot in the back room.
“You know I would take you in if I could, Taehyung,” he had said. “If I had the space…”

Gwang-Jin had a wife and six children, barely making ends meet with the coffee shop as it was. He
was gentle and kind and Taehyung knew that he had always had a great affection for his mother
and for him, in his own way. So Taehyung told him not to worry about him, that he was eternally
grateful to Gwang-Jin for providing him with a place to sleep at night, as well as a job to keep him
off the streets.

So that had been his life for the past four years. Working, eating, sleeping, in an endless daily
cycle, just trying to survive. Trying not to think about anything except what was directly in front of
him—serving coffee, sweeping the floor, cleaning the espresso machine. No friends, no
relationships, no past or future, just trying to get through one day at a time so he could collapse
onto his small cot and let sleep take him away from his miserable life.

He could have moved to a less expensive city, started over somewhere else. But he couldn’t leave
her here, even if it was just her memory. Couldn’t leave her even though she had left him.

Day in, day out, unchanging for years on end－until everything had changed two months ago when
Lee Gwang-Jin had a heart attack walking home from work and died, right there on the sidewalk.

Gwang-Jin’s oldest son, Yujin, had somehow managed to blame Taehyung for this.

“Fucking mooching off of him for years!” he had screamed in Taehyung’s face, right after the
funeral. “Giving you a fucking place to sleep while you steal fucking food from him, working
himself to the bone while you laze around, didn’t even fucking notice he was sick!” Yujin had
shoved him, face red, eyes bright with tears. “If I ever see you again, I’m going to fucking kill you!
Get away, get away, get away－”

So Taehyung had gotten away, stuffing his clothes and his single photograph into a cloth bag and
leaving the coffee shop, the only home he had known for years. He had spent a nerve-wracking
few days wandering around the streets of Seoul, swiping apples and pears from the outdoor food
markets while he tried to figure out what the fuck he was going to do.

Finally, he managed to find work at a Starbucks, mainly getting the job because he could
practically operate an espresso machine with his eyes closed. But it was only part-time, and no
other coffee shop seemed to be hiring so his money was spent on meals and nothing else. He had
been sleeping at a homeless shelter, his stomach constantly aching because he only allowed
himself to eat once a day.

And that’s when Jung Hoseok had found him.

He had been behind the counter at Starbucks when Hoseok had walked in, wearing a turquoise
blue suit and a shark’s grin.

“Thanks, beautiful,” he had said when Taehyung handed him his caramel macchiato. “You have
yourself an amazing day.”

“Er…thanks. You too.”

Hoseok had tipped him a wink and then stuffed a 50,000 won bill into the tip jar.
“Um, sir?” Taehyung had said, calling him back when he realized how much money the man had
left. “Are you sure you didn’t mean to put in something else…”

“Oh, goodness, how silly of me,” Hoseok said when Taehyung showed him the bill. “There you
go,” he said, handing Taehyung two more 50,000 won bills. “That’s what I meant to put in.”

Taehyung had gaped at him but Hoseok had only smiled at him and left the shop. And had
continued to return every time Taehyung had a shift, giving Taehyung the eerie feeling that the
man knew exactly when he’d be working.

And, of course, this had finally been confirmed when Hoseok politely asked to talk to him during
one of his breaks about a ‘potential job opportunity.’

Curious, he had sat down, listened to what Hoseok had to say－and then promptly told him to fuck
off.

Auction off my fucking virginity? Are you fucking insane? Fuck off, you fucking prick. Those had
been his exact words.

But Hoseok hadn’t seemed fazed at all by his hostility. “I’ve been checking up on you, kid. Done
some digging. You don’t know how fucking valuable you are right now. How much someone
would pay for a chance to break you in.”

“You’re sick in the head, asshole. I’m not listening to this.” He had pushed his chair back, ready to
leave when Hoseok had scribbled a number on a napkin and shoved it into his hand.

“That is how much a kid just like you went for last year.”

“Fifty thousand? Gee, why didn’t you say so?” he said, rolling his eyes. “Count me in.”

“Kid, that’s fifty thousand American.”

“Oh.” Taehyung had stared down at the number, feeling his face heat.

“Now, understand, you wouldn’t get all of that,” Hoseok went on. “Just a percentage, mind.”

Taehyung chewed on his lip. “How much of a percentage?”

“Ten. For one night’s work, mind you. And I have a feeling you could go for even more than fifty
grand, I think you’d spark a fucking bidding war…”

A few thousand dollars. For one night’s work. Enough to maybe pay for a computer course or
something so he could get a better job, get back on his feet again.

“And of course, that’s just the first night. Your earning potential would only go up after that if you
stayed at my little establishment, my clients would go nuts over you, beautiful. And of course,
Uncle Hobi always makes sure you get a cut of the money you bring in…”

“How much would I be making?”

“Thousands. Tens of thousands, easily, just in a few months.”

“Just for…having sex with men?”

Hoseok had shrugged. “Supply and demand, honey. Supply and demand.”
Taehyung had considered him, clutching the napkin with that insane amount of money printed on
it. Maybe Hoseok was lying to him, maybe he’d end up being fucked in the ass, figuratively
and literally, and not see a fucking cent of the money that Hosoek was promising.

But he was desperate. So what choice did he have?

“I can leave at any time, though, right?” he had asked. “Once I’ve made some cash, I can leave?”

Hoseok had given him that shark’s grin again. “Of course you can, my darling,” he said. “But once
you see what Uncle Hobi does for you, I don’t think you’ll want to.”

The whole thing had felt incredibly dubious but Taehyung had quit his job at Starbucks anyways
and gone with Hoseok to the Bird Cage. He had been given an entire room to himself, some new
clothes, and three meals a day. Good, expensive meals too, steak and lobster and other delicacies
that he had never even heard of before.

“I treat my birds well,” Hoseok had told him one day. “I wouldn’t be where I am today without
them, after all.”

For all his smarmy talk about being ‘Uncle Hobi’ and ‘taking care of him,’ Hoseok had still given
Taehyung a crash course in servicing men, making him practice giving blowjobs on bananas
(humiliating), insisting he get his legs, crotch, and balls waxed (excruciating), and ‘inspecting’
him, forcing him to strip naked and spread his ass cheeks so Hoseok could ‘take a good look to see
what we’re working with here.’ That had been humiliating and excruciating, his face flaming as
Hoseok stood behind him, muttering to himself. But Hoseok hadn’t tried to touch him or anything
like that. Taehyung would have clawed his eyes out if he had.

He had thought about leaving a few days before the auction, just grabbing his stuff and sneaking
away. But Hoseok’s huge bodyguards seemed to be stationed at every corner and Taehyung got the
serious impression that they were meant to keep the ‘birds’ from flying away as much as they were
supposed to keep them ‘safe.’

One night, he had told himself. I just need to get through that one night, get my money and then
I’ll figure out what to do after that.

And, he had to admit, it was hard to leave a place that provided him with three square meals a day
and a bed that felt like sleeping on a cloud. Jesus Christ, he had been living at the Bird Cage for
two fucking weeks and he had already gone from a toughened street kid to a pampered whore.

She would be so ashamed of him.

Tears sting his eyes and Taehyung keeps them closed, biting down on the inside of his cheeks to
stem the flood that wants to sweep through him.

One night, it’s just for one fucking night, oh god, please don’t let it be that ugly rat-faced one,
please, please, please…

He hears the bell that signals the end of the auction, opens his eyes－and nearly falls off the swing
when he sees the number displayed on the screen.

***
Jungkook strides down the hallway, the key to his room clutched tightly in his hand. He had been
forced to wait another fucking hour for the other escorts to be auctioned off. Normally, average
nights at the Bird Cage consisted of walking around the floor, looking in the cages and choosing
the whore you wanted to spend the evening with. But whenever there was an auction for a dove,
Hobi liked to turn it into an ‘event night,’ auctioning off the rest of his whores to the highest
bidder, jacking up their prices.

And he always insisted on auctioning off the doves first so the men would stay put for the rest of
the auction. Because no one would be stupid enough to win a dove and then immediately get up to
go deflower them, announcing to the other men that you had won, and painting a target on your
back. The bids are anonymous for a reason. Winning a dove granted you status and respect but not
during that first night. Competition for the doves was so ravenous that until you had actually
claimed your prize, there was still a chance that another leader would sabotage you, plunge a knife
into your back just as you were rolling the condom on and taking the dove for themselves.

You had only really ‘won’ the dove after you had fucked them. Until then, it was still anyone’s
game.

Jungkook approaches the room where his dove is waiting, careful to look both ways down the
hallway to make sure no one is around before sliding the key in the lock and pushing the door
open, stepping inside and shutting it quickly behind him, locking it again.

The room is decked out in tasteful shades of white and silver, like a honeymoon suite, the colours
emphasizing the whole ‘pure dove’ theme. A mirrored dresser serves as a bar on one side of the
room, bottles of alcohol arranged on top, highball glasses scattered next to them. Across from it is
the massive white canopy bed, silver brocade curtains wrapped around the posts. A poofy white
duvet is spread across the mattress and in the middle of that poofy white duvet sits the dove.

Jungkook frowns at him. Most whores greeted their buyers by reclining seductively on the bed,
displaying their tight bodies outfitted in silk and lace, glossy lips fixed in a servile smile.

But not this kid. He’s sitting cross-legged on the duvet, shoulders hunched, chin propped in his
hand, staring off into space. His other hand is fiddling with the toe of one of his sheer stockings,
plucking at it absently.

Jungkook sighs. He’s going to have his work cut out for him, checking this little whore’s attitude,
showing him his place. But he supposes that’s part of the fun.

He walks up to the bed, leaning against one of the posts, hands in his pockets. The boy finally
comes out of his stupor, glancing up at him. He blinks.

“Oh,” he says. “It’s you.”

“Are you pleasantly surprised?”

The boy looks him up and down and then shrugs. “At least you’re not one of the old, fat ones. Or
the one who looks like he got his face run over by a truck.”

Jungkook’s stomach tightens and he almost laughs. But he swallows it back, raising an eyebrow at
the kid. “You’re a bit mouthy for a whore, even a brand new one. I paid a lot of money for you,
you know.”

“That’s right, you did.” The boy’s lips tilt up in a derisive smirk. “What, can you not get laid for
free, or something? You need to pay to have your dick sucked?”
“Paying for sex means I get exactly what I want, when I want, kid. You try and hook up with
someone for free and there’s all of these stupid expectations for dates and then they try to bring
fucking emotions into it. So it kind of ruins the fun.” He considers him for a few seconds before
going on. “And I doubt you’re the romantic type either, if you’re willing to auction off your
virginity. What, not willing to wait for that ‘special someone’? Like the idea of being fucked in the
ass by strangers?”

Something indecipherable flickers across the boy’s face and his lips press into a thin line. “I’m just
doing this for the money,” he says. “And that’s it.”

“You sure?” Jungkook asks, wrapping a hand around the post. “Maybe you get off on the thought
of being fucked by big, powerful men. Maybe that’s why you’re here in this room, dressed like a
little slut.” He grins wickedly. “Maybe that’s exactly what you are underneath. Aching to get rid of
your virginity so you can finally be the little cockslut you’ve always wanted to be.”

The boy shakes his head, adamant. “I fucking told you, asshole, I’m only here for the fucking
money.” He gives Jungkook a cold smile. “And now I have lots of it, thanks to you.”

“That’s right, you do,” Jungkook says. “What are you going to do with it, hmm?”

He expects the kid to say something along the lines of designer clothes or a new car, the kind of
thing that the whores at the Bird Cage typically spend their money on. But a dreamy sort of look
comes over the boy’s face and he looks away, fiddling with his stocking again.

“Buy an apartment,” he says softly. “Go to school, maybe.”

It’s definitely an answer he’s never heard before and he kind of wants to ask him about it. Where
did you live before you came here? What kind of classes would you take? Jesus, kid, where did
you come from?

But he stops himself. For fuck’s sake, why would he be interested in shit like that?

So instead he rolls his eyes. “How very middle-class of you.”

The kid shrugs again. “We can’t all be multi-millionaires, buying up virgins on a whim.”

“Right,” Jungkook says. “And speaking of...” He cocks an eyebrow, giving the kid a pointed look.

“Oh.” The kid blinks nervously but then sighs, flopping back onto the bed, splaying his limbs out
like a starfish. “Okay, big guy,” he says, closing his eyes and speaking to the ceiling, “go for it.
Lay one on me.”

“Okay, one, you’re going to have to work on your dirty talk. And two, for the amount I paid for
you, you’re going to have to put in a bit more effort than that. Stand up.”

The kid lifts his head up. “Um, what?”

“You heard me. Get your ass off the bed and stand in front of me. Now.”

The kid hesitates and then scoots off the bed, getting to his feet in front of Jungkook. He’s about
the same height as him, maybe a couple inches shorter which is nice. Jungkook would feel slightly
ridiculous trying to stare down the kid if he happened to be taller than him.

The kid bites his lip as Jungkook steps even closer, invading his personal space, crowding him up
against the bed post.
Hmm...not so mouthy now, are you?

“What’s your name, pretty?” Jungkook says, reaching out and running a finger underneath one of
the kid’s garter straps.

The boy’s eyes are big and round, like soft puppy dog eyes. Jungkook wonders what they’ll look
like with tears spilling out of them as he fucks him.

“V,” the boy says, hugging himself, pressing back against the post, as if he’s trying to shy away
from Jungkook’s hand. “My name’s V.”

Jungkook chuckles softly. “No, baby doll, not the name Hobi gave you. Your real name.” He snaps
the garter strap against the boy’s thigh, and delights in the way his breath hitches. “The name only
I get to call you.”

That defiance flares in the boy’s eyes again. “You don’t need to know my real name,” he snaps.

Moving like a viper, Jungkook seizes the hair at the nape of the kid’s neck, yanking his head back,
getting his other arm around his waist and crushing him against his body. The boy utters a small
cry, struggling against him but Jungkook only tightens his grip, holding him completely immobile
in his arms.

“Hey, hey, listen to me. Listen.” He tightens his grip on the boy’s hair and he stops struggling,
glaring at Jungkook through narrowed eyes. “Now since it’s your first time and you’re still
learning, I’m going to go easy on you. But you talk back to me again and I will punish you and it
will hurt. Do you understand?”

The boy gives him an almost imperceptible nod, still glaring at him.

“Say it, you little whore. Tell me you understand.”

The boy swallows thickly before answering, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “I
understand.”

“Good. Now I’m going to ask you again. What is your fucking name?”

“T-Taehyung,” the boy stammers. “K-Kim Taehyung.”

Jungkook relaxes his grip on Taehyung but only slightly. “Good boy. See? That wasn’t so hard.”
Taehyung nods again. “Okay, since you’ve been so good, I’m going to reward you and tell you
what you can call me. You may address me as ‘Mr. Jeon’ or ‘sir.’ Got it?”

“Mm hmm.”

“Use your words, princess.”

“Yes, I understand.” Jungkook tightens his grip on Taehyung’s hair again. “Sir,” he adds through
gritted teeth

“Good. You’re doing so good, Taehyung.” His gaze roves over Taehyung’s face, feeling a carnal
thrill at the small hint of fear he detects in his eyes. Now he just needs to stoke that fear some more
until Taehyung yields to him completely.

“It’s a pretty name you have,” Jungkook murmurs. “It suits you.” His gaze drifts down to stare at
Taehyung’s lips, full and soft-looking, pouting pink. He doesn’t usually bother kissing the whores
he fucks but for Taehyung, he’s willing to make an exception. Kind of wants to know if they’re as
soft as they look, what Taehyung will taste like.

He starts to lean in but then Taehyung squirms in his arms, turning his face away. “Um, can we not
do that, please?”

“Not do what?”

"The whole kissing thing.” He keeps his face turned away, his hands pressing against Jungkook’s
chest. “Hobi promised me that I wouldn’t have to do that.”

“You have no problem having a stranger’s dick up your ass but you have a problem with kissing?”

“Look I just—” Taehyung blows out a breath, pressing himself back against the post. “Anything
else you want is fine, okay? Just...not that. Please.”

Anger boils through him because Taehyung is still daring to defy him and, for a moment, he
considers just kissing him anyways, crushing their lips together and robbing Taehyung of all the
breath in his lungs. But the feisty little whore will probably just end up biting him or something if
Jungkook tries to force it on him so he lets it go. For now.

“Fine. Plenty of other things to use your mouth for.” He releases Taehyung, stepping back from
him. “Get on your knees.”

“I—”

“Taehyung, on your knees. Now.”

Muttering under his breath, Taehyung drops down clumsily onto his knees, his head level with
Jungkook’s crotch.

Arousal starts to pulse through him upon seeing Taehyung in such a submissive position. “You
look really pretty from this angle, baby doll,” he says, palming himself through his trousers,
rubbing at his stiffening cock.

Taehyung just sits there, his eyes riveted on Jungkook’s crotch, chewing on his bottom lip. His
hands rest in his lap, clenching and relaxing, clenching and relaxing.

“Oh, sweetheart, you look nervous,” Jungkook says in a mock gentle tone. “Is it because you’ve
never had a dick down your throat? Afraid you’re gonna be bad at giving head? Thought you’ve
been practicing.”

Taehyung glances at him, giving him a dry look. “The bananas I’ve been practicing on haven’t
been attached to complete jerks.”

“Hush, baby,” Jungkook says, unzipping his fly. “I’m gonna have to shut you up if you keep
talking to me like that.”

“You go right ahe—” Jungkook pulls his cock out and Taehyung gasps. “Jesus Christ!”

“What?”

“It’s just—” Taehyung gapes up at him for a few seconds and then looks back down at Jungkook’s
cock, his face flushing pink. “There is no way that is going to fit inside me!”

“It’s okay, we’ll make it fit, baby,” Jungkook says, giving himself a firm stroke. “But you have to
get it nice and wet first. Go on.”

Hesitantly, Taehyung reaches out, wrapping a hand around Jungkook’s cock, holding it loosely as
if it might break. Jungkook places his own hand around Taehyung’s, making him grip it harder.
“Nice firm grip, Taehyung, it’s not made out of fucking glass.”

Taehyung nods absently, still staring at his cock as he starts to stroke, his movements awkward and
sloppy at first until he slips into a steady rhythm, jerking him faster.

“Fuck, that’s good, baby,” Jungkook breathes. “That’s so much better, look at you learning so
fast...”

Taehyung’s eyes flick up to Jungkook’s for a second before concentrating on his cock again, his
pink lips slightly parted in an expression of bewildered fascination.

“Suck me,” Jungkook whispers. “Suck me with that pretty mouth of yours, Taehyung, come on...”

“Um...okay....” Taehyung shuffles forward on his knees and starts to lean in—but then hesitates,
his lips hovering mere inches from the head of Jungkook’s cock.

“Don’t be shy, baby, come on...just like those bananas you practiced on, remember?”

“You’re a lot bigger than a banana,” Taehyung grumbles.

Jungkook smirks down at him. “Is that a compliment?”

“No,” Taehyung says casually. “Merely an observation.”

“Less observing, more sucking.”

“Okay, okay,” Taehyung huffs, “god, just give a guy a minute, will you? I’ve never done this
before.”

Jungkook is about to remind Taehyung to watch his mouth again when Taehyung leans forward,
giving the head of his cock a tentative, kittenish lick.

“Taehyung, it’s not a fucking ice cream cone,” Jungkook growls. “Suck it.”

“Okay, jeez.” Taehyung takes a deep breath and then gets his mouth around the tip of Jungkook’s
cock, letting it slide past his lips, giving it a gentle suck.

“That’s it, baby, start slow…tighten your lips around it, there you go…” He hisses suddenly. “Shit,
watch the teeth.”

Taehyung pulls off. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not sounding sorry at all.

He takes him into his mouth again, a bit deeper this time, still concentrating on sucking on the
head, flicking his tongue against it and Jungkook doesn’t know if it’s something he’s been trying
on the bananas or if he’s just experimenting right now. Either way, the kid is obviously trying but
it’s still a pretty subpar blowjob. And Jungkook did not pay a million fucking dollars to teach
Taehyung how to have sex.

“Eyes on me,” Jungkook says, and Taehyung looks up at him, his eyes hooded, pink lips still
wrapped around his dick. He has to admit that it’s a pretty spectacular sight and if Taehyung
actually knew how to suck him off properly, he might have come right then. But he has other plans
for him.
“That’s it, baby…suck me with that little whore mouth of yours…” He runs a hand through
Taehyung’s soft hair, wanting to lure him into a false sense of security with praise. “Mmm…how’s
your gag reflex, by the way?”

Taehyung’s eyes widen in panic but Jungkook is already grabbing the back of his head, pushing
him forward, shoving his dick into his mouth, ramming it against the back of his throat.

Taehyung gags, trying to pull off, but Jungkook holds him there for a few more seconds. Choke on
it, you little bitch.

He releases him and Taehyung pulls back, spluttering and coughing, his chest heaving for air.

“You fucking asshole,” he says hoarsely, swiping at his mouth. He glares up at Jungkook, eyes
burning with rage. “You try that again, I’ll bite your fucking dick off.”

“It’s not going in your mouth again, you little slut, it’s going in your ass now.” Jungkook yanks
Taehyung to his feet and then shoves him backward onto the bed. “You’re going to give me my
fucking money’s worth.”

He shrugs out of his suit jacket, letting it fall onto the floor before crawling on top of Taehyung, his
hands and knees sinking into the fluffy duvet. Taehyung scrambles back but Jungkook seizes his
wrists, pinning him to the bed.

“No,” Taehyung cries, panicked, struggling against his hold. “No!”

“Hey!” Jungkook says sharply and Taehyung stops thrashing, staring up at him with wide eyes, his
breathing shallow and rushed. And Jungkook feels a surge of black triumph because there it is: the
fear, the distress, Taehyung’s mask of defiance ripped away to reveal the scared little boy hiding
underneath. He’s halfway there to breaking him, he just needs to fuck Taehyung until he cries, until
he begs Jungkook to stop.

“Now we can do this one of two ways, Taehyung,” Jungkook says, keeping his voice light and
conversational as if they’re talking about the weather. “We can do it the easy way or the hard way.
Either way, my cock is going up your ass.” To emphasize his point, he grinds his hips into
Taehyung’s stomach, rubbing his cock against him. “You are bought and paid for, I own you for
tonight so you don’t have a choice. You can, however, decide how much pain you want to
experience while I’m fucking you. So, are you going to be a good boy and let me fuck you? Or do I
have to force myself on you?”

Taehyung lets out a small whimper, squeezing his eyes shut, as if he’s trying to block out the sight
of Jungkook on top of him, block out everything.

“Answer me, Taehyung.”

Taehyung’s eyes flutter open. “I’ll…I’ll l-let you fuck me,” he chokes out.

“Yeah? Are you going to be my good boy when I let you up? Are you going to listen to me from
now on, follow my orders?”

Taehyung nods, his expression wary.

“I can’t hear you, baby doll.”

“I’ll be your good boy,” Taehyung says shakily. “I’ll listen.”

“Good,” Jungkook says. “I’m going to take my hands away and you’re not going to move,
understand?”

Taehyung nods feebly. “Yes, sir,” he mutters.

Jungkook releases him and Taehyung stays there, lying underneath him, hands beside his head. His
breathing is still a bit shallow but he doesn’t look as scared as he had a few seconds ago, his face
set into another mask of steely resolve.

Jungkook frowns. He had thought he had managed to rid Taehyung of the last scraps of his pride
but he looks determined, defiant as ever. Looking at Jungkook with contempt, as if he’s the
pathetic one here.

That’s fine. It’ll just be that much more rewarding when I fuck him into submission.

Jungkook sits back on his heels, unbuttoning his shirt but leaving it on. It’s the most he ever gets
undressed when he’s having sex because getting completely naked is the whore’s job, not his.

Taehyung’s eyes track his movements, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as Jungkook’s muscled
torso comes into view. Whether it’s out of nervousness or desire, Jungkook doesn’t know, but he
thinks he’s found a chink in Taehyung’s armor, a way to break him. If he can just get Taehyung to
admit that he liked it after Jungkook fucks him, maybe even get him begging for more instead of
begging for Jungkook to stop…

Ooh, Mr. Jeon, yes, give it to me, want your cock again, feels so fucking good inside me, I’m your
slut, I’m your little fucking whore…

That might be intensely more gratifying.

He jerks his chin at Taehyung, indicating his lacy blouse. “Take that off.”

“Oh, um, right.” Taehyung reaches up to undo the first button, fingers fumbling and it seems to be
taking longer than necessary for Taehyung to slide the button through the hole. It’s quite possibly
the lamest striptease Jungkook has ever witnessed in his life and, after a few more seconds of
watching Taehyung struggling with his buttons, he bats his hands away, impatient.

“For fuck’s sake, I’ll do it.”

He gets his hands on Taehyung’s shirt but instead of unbuttoning it, he tears at it, ripping it open in
one swift motion, exposing Taeyung’s smooth chest, his soft, flat tummy.

Taehyung lets out a small noise, a breathy little ‘oh!’ and the sound of it goes directly to
Jungkook’s groin. He wants to hear Taehyung make more noises like that, wants to hear him moan
as Jungkook fucks into him…

“Hmm…think we might have discovered a kink of yours, baby,” Jungkook says as he maneuvers
Taehyung into a sitting position so he can pull the blouse the rest of the way off. He pushes him to
lie flat again, gaze raking over his body. “I think you like having your clothes ripped off, being
treated like the little slut you are.”

Taehyung gives a small shake of his head but his eyes betray him－they’re dark and slightly glazed
over, gazing up at Jungkook through lowered lashes.

“You sure?” Jungkook says, his hands sliding down to the little white satin shorts Taehyung is
wearing. “You sure that when I do this－” there’s a sound of ripping fabric, and he tears the little
shorts clean off, “－it doesn’t turn you on?”

“Yes,” Taehyung whispers. “I mean－no, it doesn’t turn me on.”

“Liar,” Jungkook says quietly, “you’re such a…” But he trails off as he gets a good look at the
white lace thong Taehyung is wearing, the matching garter belt circling his hips, framing his semi-
hard cock in the most delectable way.

“Shit,” he breathes, trailing a hand over the garter belt, running his other hand over Taehyung’s
thigh, smoothing his palm over the sheer stocking. “So pretty like this, baby doll, it’s like you were
fucking born to wear slutty lingerie…”

“Yeah, well, it’s fucking uncomfortable,” Taehyung huffs.

Jungkook snickers, running a finger underneath the garter belt, pulling it down to reveal angry red
marks on Taehyung’s golden skin, left from the elastic. “Never heard a whore complain about
wearing lingerie before,” he says. “You want me to take it off? Strip you naked?”

Taehyung hesitates, his hands clenching on the duvet but then he dips his head in a small nod.

Jungkook smirks. “That’s too bad, baby, because I like seeing you like this. I’m going to have you
leave all of this on while I fuck you and you’re just going to have to deal with it.”

Taehyung’s jaw clenches, his eyes sparking with anger but Jungkook just flips him over onto his
stomach, sucking in a breath through his teeth as he gets his first glimpse of Taehyung’s ass.

“Holy fuck,” Jungkook says, running his hands over Taehyung’s plump asscheeks, giving them a
rough squeeze. “Hobi was right, you really do have a gorgeous ass.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, just glares at him over his shoulder.

“Where are your manners, Taehyung?” Jungkook says, smacking his hand lightly against
Taehyung’s ass. “What do you say when someone pays you a compliment?”

“I would say thank you,” Taehyung grits out, “but you’re not complimenting me, you’re just
objectifying me. I’m not going to fucking thank you for that.”

“What did I fucking say about mouthing off!” Jungkook spanks Taehyung again, harder this time,
Taehyung crying out as his palm cracks against his ass. “I gave you a compliment so be a good
little whore and say thank you.” He emphasizes the last words with another harsh slap.

“Thank you, sir,” Taehyung says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thank you ever so much for
your kind words, I’m eternally grateful to you, Mr. Jeon, you have my everlasting fucking gratitude
－”

Jungkook fists his hand in Taehyung’s hair again, pulling his head back and Taehyung lets out a
strangled noise.

“I should take you over my knee for talking to me like that,” he snarls, leaning down to speak into
Taehyung’s ear. “Bend you over, mark up this little bubble butt of yours so you wouldn’t be able to
sit down for a fucking week.” He rubs his cock against Taehyung’s ass, grinding against him. “But
I think I’ll fuck you until you can’t even fucking walk tomorrow morning. How does that sound,
hmm?”

Taehyung shakes his head, pressing back against him as if he’s trying to throw him off but
Jungkook only lets his body weight rest more fully over Taehyung, pinning him down so all
Taehyung ends up doing his rubbing his ass against Jungkook’s cock, causing him to groan softly.

“We’re really going to have to work on your communication skills, Taehyung,” Jungkook
whispers. “When I ask you a fucking question, I expect a fucking answer. Now, I asked you how
does that sound?”

“It sounds like you’re a fucking psychopath,” Taehyung snaps. “So why don’t you just go ahead
and fuck me so we can get this the fuck over with?”

“God, you mouthy fucking bitch!” Jungkook rears back, bringing down his hand on Taehyung’s
ass again as hard as he can, causing Taehyung to jolt under the impact. “I did not pay a
million fucking dollars－” smack “－so you could run your fucking mouth－” smack “－you little
fucking whore.” SMACK.

Taehyung slants his gaze back to him, that fierce, unquenchable fire still burning in his eyes, hot as
ever. “What do you want, a fucking refund?” he spits out.

And, for a second, Jungkook is rendered speechless. Taehyung is lying there with Jungkook’s
fucking handprints all over his ass and he’s still not breaking. For fuck’s sake, this kid could teach
certain gang members a lesson on how to withstand torture. Not that a spanking is in the same
realm as what Jungkook and his mob have done to people before but still, for a nineteen-year-old
virgin, Taehyung is proving himself to be a little spitfire, and Jungkook thinks he might even be a
lot tougher than most of the gang members he knows.

He’s almost impressed. And, if he’s honest with himself, extremely turned on. Most whores were
too compliant, lying on the bed like ragdolls, submissive and meek, allowing themselves to be
maneuvered into different positions, acquiescing to certain requests with a murmured ‘yes, Mr.
Jeon,’ painted lips turned up into fixed, obedient smiles.

But not this kid. He’s got some fight in him and Jungkook is kind of starting to like it. It’ll just be
even more rewarding when Taehyung finally yields to him, starts begging for his cock.

Wildcat, indeed.

“No, I don’t want a fucking refund, Taehyung,” Jungkook says softly. “I want what I fucking paid
for.”

He grips Taehyung’s hips, hauling him upward so that his ass is in the air. Jungkook spanks him
again for good measure and then reaches over to the little bedside table where a bottle of lube and
box of condoms conveniently sits waiting for him.

Taehyung buries his face in the pillow, a small whimper escaping him as Jungkook roughly pulls
his lacy thong to the side. “Here’s what you’re going to do for me, Taehyung,” Jungkook says,
flipping open the cap on the lube bottle with his thumb. “You’re going to reach behind you and
spread your asscheeks open so I can see your hole. Go on, show me.”

Taehyung huffs, getting his hands on his ass and spreading himself open, exposing the little pink
ring of muscle and Jungkook lets out a low whistle through his teeth.

“Fuck, you’ve got such a nice little hole, Taehyung. So pink and pretty.” He smirks, drizzling some
lube on his fingers. “Can’t wait to fucking wreck it with my cock.”

Taehyung shifts slightly on his knees, turning to look back at him over his shoulder, his expression
wary.
Jungkook tsks. “Aw, what’s the matter, baby? Scared?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, you sick fuck.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Careful, Taehyung,” he says, “keep talking like that and I’ll forget to be
nice.”

“You call this nice－” But Taehyung’s words end on a startled gasp as Jungkook prods a slicked up
finger against his entrance, slipping it inside. He can feel Taehyung automatically clenching around
his finger, squeezing tight.

“You’ve never had anything back here, have you?” Jungkook says softly, his eyes riveted on
Taehyung’s face. “Never fingered yourself or anything?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to answer but winces when Jungkook starts working his finger slowly
in and out of his hole and just gives a small, tight shake of his head.

“Hmm…how’s it feel?” Jungkook asks the question to torment Taehyung some more, humiliate
him－but he also finds that he’s genuinely curious to know. Tell me it feels good, his mind
whispers. Tell me you like it…

“It feels like there’s a finger up my ass,” Taehyung grumbles. “I don’t really see what all the fuss is
about.”

“No?” Jungkook makes a curling motion inside Taehyung, rubbing the pad of his finger against his
prostate. “How about now?”

“I don’t—ohhhhhhh...” Taehyung’s eyes flutter shut, his mouth falling open in a lovely round ‘O.’
He sucks in a breath through his teeth, his handsome face scrunched up.

“How’s it feel now, Taehyung?” Jungkook says in a hushed voice. “Tell me.”

“F-feels w-weird,” Taehyung whines. “I don’t...I don’t l-like it...”

“I think you do like it,” Jungkook says, his eyes still fixed on Taehyung’s face as he inserts a
second finger. “You just don’t want to admit what a little fucking slut you are.”

“No,” Taehyung moans as Jungkook starts to move his fingers faster, stretching him open, “stop...”
But he’s starting to push back against Jungkook’s hand, seeking more contact, hips undulating as
he grabs a hold of the pillow, burying his face in it.

“I’m not going to stop, baby,” Jungkook whispers. “You’re going to take what I give you like a
good little whore.”

Jungkook had only fucked a handful of male whores in his life, the first time out of mere curiosity,
and the few times after that out of a desire to fuck a tight ass and get amazing head—he found guys
tended to be better at that sort of thing. But, whether he was fucking a man or a woman, he had
never really focused on their pleasure for obvious reasons. Paying for it meant that he wasn’t
obligated to get his escort off. He tended to be selfish when it came to sex, wanted it that way.

But right now, he finds himself acutely tuned in to the muffled noises Taehyung is making into the
pillow, the way he writhes against Jungkook’s hand, and a part of him wants to flip Taehyung over
just so he could see the expression on his face. But that would rob him of his view of Taehyung’s
ass so he keeps him on his hands and knees as he slips in a third finger, his dick throbbing as
Taehyung’s head pops off the pillow, a guttural moan falling from his lips.
“Oh, f-fuck,” he stammers. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, you like that?” Jungkook grits out, gripping Taehyung’s hip with one hand as he fucks him
open with the other. “You like being my little whore, don’t you, Taehyung? You want my cock in
your little virgin hole, want me to fill you up—”

“N-no,” Taehyung cries, humping his ass back against him, “no, stop, please, I can’t—”

“I’m going to fuck you until you scream, baby,” Jungkook says hoarsely, not letting up, assaulting
Taehyung’s prostate with his fingers, “gonna turn you into my fucking cockslut, I’ll have you
begging for it all night and then I’ll—”

But then Taehyung bucks violently against his hand, his head thrown back as his entire body
tenses, his hole reflexively tightening around Jungkook’s fingers.

“Fuck!” he shouts. “Holy FUCK!”

Taehyung shudders and then slumps forward, breathing ragged, his face smushed into the pillow.

Jungkook’s hand stills and he gapes at Taehyung in disbelief. “Did you just come?”

Taehyung wipes at his mouth, his eyes closed and he nods against the pillow. “Mm hmm...”

“What—I didn’t give you permission to come!” Jungkook says heatedly. “You only come when I
say you can, you little whore, that’s how this fucking works!”

Taehyung opens his eyes and Jungkook feels a sharp stab of lust at how fucked out he looks right
now, his eyes half-lidded and glossy. “I didn’t mean to...” Taehyung says petulantly, lips set in a
pout. “It just happened...you wouldn’t stop touching me...” He rubs his face against the pillow,
closing his eyes again. “Can we take a break or something? I’m tired...”

“Jesus, what do you think this is, a fucking McDonald’s? You don’t get to take a break!” Jungkook
pulls his fingers out of Taehyung and Taehyung gasps. “You’re really fucking in for it now,” he
says gruffly, snatching up a condom and tearing the foil open with his teeth. “Because you know
what? Now you’re going to be overstimulated and sensitive and it’s really going to suck for you.”

“Oh, like it’s been all peaches and cream before now?” Taehyung says peevishly.

“You just had a fucking orgasm!”

Taehyung gives a lazy shrug of his shoulders. “I didn’t ask you for one,” he mutters. “It wasn’t
even that good.”

“What－you－” Jungkook makes a frustrated sound low in his throat. “I had you moaning like a
little slut!”

Taehyung looks away, heaving a sigh and he has the fucking audacity to sound bored. “You’re
exaggerating.”

“No, I’m fucking not, you little－” But Jungkook cuts himself off, not quite able to believe that
he’s fucking arguing with this kid. About an orgasm. If it wasn’t his goal to break Taehyung, to
get him to admit that he liked it, he wouldn’t even give a shit about getting him off.

He clenches his jaw. He will fuck Taehyung into submission and he will get him to admit that he
likes what Jungkook does to him. He doesn’t care how many fucking rounds it takes.
“That’s it,” he seethes, rolling the condom on, slicking some lube onto his cock. “Time to get what
I fucking paid for.”

Taehyung glances back at him over his shoulder, a look of panic flashing across his face as
Jungkook presses the head of his cock against Taehyung’s entrance. “W-wait,” he mewls, “wait, j-
just give me a minute－”

But Jungkook doesn’t wait, doesn’t stop. He pushes in, heedless of Taehyung’s little sounds of
protest, groaning as he sinks into Taehyung’s incredibly tight heat.

“Fuck,” he breathes when he’s halfway in, Taehyung’s hole clenching around him. “Jesus, you’re
so fucking tight.” He bares his teeth in a feral grin. “I’m beginning to think your ass might actually
be worth all that money I paid for it.”

“F-fuck you,” Taehyung stutters, his hands gripping onto the pillow, knuckles whitening, and
Jungkook feels Taehyung shiver against him as he finally bottoms out, sheathing his entire length
inside him.

“Mmm…how’s that dick feel, baby?” Jungkook murmurs, hands digging into Taehyung’s hips,
making sure he has a firm hold on him. “How’s it feel in your little virgin hole?”

“H-hurts,” Taehyung whimpers. His cheeks are flushed pink and Jungkook can see tears forming at
the corners of his eyes, beading along his lashes like tiny diamonds.

“I’ll bet it does,” Jungkook whispers as he starts to move, thrusting in and out slowly. “Bet you like
the way it hurts…”

Taehyung blinks up at him, his pink lips parted, his eyes full of something that is almost like
astonishment, as if he can’t quite believe what Jungkook is doing to him right now. He moans
quietly as Jungkook moves inside him, achingly slow, and he’s so sexy, he’s just so fucking sexy,
the hottest little whore Jungkook has ever fucked. He wants to stay with Taehyung for the rest of
the night, wants to have him again and again until morning. And he might even want him the next
night too. And the night after that…

Desire sparks through him, burning bright and hot like the sun, not just for a satisfying fuck, but for
Taehyung himself, for this boy’s luscious mouth and soft, golden skin, wants to feel his supple
body writhing underneath him, his long legs wrapped around him as he cries out Jungkook’s
name…

Except he hasn’t told Taehyung what his first name is. And he doesn’t have Taehyung wrapped
around him, he has him on his hands and knees, fucking him from behind like the whore he is. And
the only reason Taehyung is letting Jungkook fuck him right now is because Jungkook is paying
him. For fuck’s sake, Taehyung won’t even allow Jungkook to fucking kiss him.

I’m just doing this for the money. And that’s it.

His desire swiftly ignites to anger and he grabs onto Taehyung’s garter belt, using it as leverage to
pull Taehyung back onto his cock as he begins to fuck into him faster, his hips snapping brutally
against Taehyung’s ass.

“Ah!” Taehyung arches back, crying out as Jungkook pounds against his over-sensitive prostate,
his hands fisting on the sheets in a white-knuckled deathgrip. “Ah, fuck!”

“Yeah, come on, take that fucking cock,” Jungkook snarls, his balls slapping crudely against
Taehyung’s ass. “Take that fucking cock in your tight virgin hole, you little bitch.”
Taehyung sobs, burying his face in the pillow, trying to muffle the sounds coming out of his mouth
but Jungkook grabs a handful of his hair, yanking his head back.

“No, Taehyung, you don’t get to fucking hide from me, come on, wanna hear those slutty noises
you make, come on be a good little whore and let me hear you fucking scream－”

And Taehyung does scream, his entire body wracked with sobs, as he suddenly pushes back against
him again, his hole spasming around Jungkook’s cock as he comes for the second time.

“Fuck,” Jungkook growls as he feels Taehyung’s hole gripping his cock. “Such a sensitive little
slut, aren’t you, getting off on my dick like that? Not even waiting for my permission, you’re so
fucking desperate to come.”

“I’m n-not…” Taehyung sounds dazed, completely out of breath. He inhales shakily, tries again.
“I’m not a sl-slut…”

“Really? You sure as fuck act like one.” Jungkook pushes Taehyung so that he’s lying flat on his
stomach, his dick pulsing inside of him. “Since you’re such a slut, I think you can take one more,
can’t you?” He seizes Taehyung’s wrists, holding his arms behind his back, forcing him to arch his
spine. “Come on, you can take one more for me…because I’m not fucking finished with you yet.”

Taehyung yelps as Jungkook begins to hammer into him again, driving his cock into him, deep and
hard, making sure to punch the tip of his cock directly against Taehyung’s abused prostate with
every rough thrust.

“Fucking whore,” Jungkook spits out, “not a virgin anymore, are you? No, you’re my little fucking
cumslut now, can’t get enough of my dick…”

Taehyung struggles against his hold, swearing at the top of his lungs as he comes for a third time,
nearly bucking Jungkook off of him as he thrashes and shakes underneath him on the duvet, as if a
tsunami is smashing through him.

“Fuck.” Jungkook pulls out, ripping the condom off and it only takes a couple of pumps with his
hand before he climaxes, coming all over Taehyung’s ass and lower back, staining him with pearly
white liquid.

He falls forward, collapsing heavily on top of Taehyung, burying his face in between Taehyung’s
shoulder blades, feeling the kid tremble underneath him with the aftermath of his orgasms. He’s
feeling a little bit shaky himself, if he’s being honest. For a virgin, Taehyung had just given him
the most incredible fuck of his life, although part of that might have been the kid’s stubborn
resistance rather than his actual skill in the bedroom. But fuck if it hadn’t been the hottest sex he’s
ever had.

“Mmm…how you feeling, baby?” Jungkook purrs, pressing his lips to Taehyung’s smooth
shoulder, running a hand along his quivering thigh. “You wanna go again?”

“Would you get the fuck off me already?” Taehyung snaps.

Jungkook pushes himself up, hovering over Taehyung, glaring down at him. “Admit it, you little
whore, you fucking liked it. You want me to do it again.”

Taehyung slants his gaze over his shoulder to look at Jungkook, his brown eyes still blazing with
that bright fire, even as tears leak out of them. “You paid a million fucking dollars to get your
rocks off, you fucking asshole, and you’ve done that so all I want is my fucking money.” And, even
though his body is still trembling, his voice is remarkably steady. He nestles his head back into the
pillow, closing his eyes. “I don’t have to admit anything to you.”

For a moment, Jungkook just stares down at Taehyung, his handsome face closed off to him,
pressing his body into the mattress as if he’s trying to get as far away from Jungkook as physically
possible. Then Jungkook gets up off the bed and storms into the en suite bathroom, slamming the
door behind him. He wrenches one of the taps on the sink, dipping his hands underneath the stream
of water, splashing it onto his face, running his wet hands through his hair. What is the matter with
this kid? How can he get underneath Jungkook’s skin so easily, keep defying him like that?
Jungkook has fucking killed people for chrissakes, tortured them and here he is, allowing a fucking
kid, who had never sucked a dick before in his life until tonight, to mouth off to him.

He rests his forehead against the mirror, his chest heaving. Okay, that’s it. No more fucking
around, he’s just going to go back out there and fucking teach that kid some fucking manners, show
him who’s boss. He’ll start by ripping the rest of that stupid fucking lingerie off his body, tie his
hands with the garter belt or something, shove his cock inside him, force him to look into his eyes
this time as Jungkook fucks him, get him moaning like the little whore he is.

His hands tighten on the sink as he has a sudden vivid image of Taehyung underneath him, his eyes
glassy with desire as Jungkook fucks into him, moving over him, and Taehyung pulls him close to
moan into his ear…

Oh, Jungkook, yes, fuck me, make me your whore, I want you so bad, you make me feel so fucking
good, oh fuck yes…

By the end of the night, he’ll have Taehyung begging for him. By the end of the night, he’ll make
it so Taehyung won’t ever want to be fucked by anybody else.

He yanks the door open, goes back into the bedroom－and finds Taehyung passed out on top of the
duvet, fast asleep.

Jungkook scowls down at him. He’s still lying on his stomach, one arm dangling down off the
mattress, his mouth slightly open. For a second, Jungkook considers just waking him up again,
preferably with a nice hard smack on the ass－but something stops him. Something unfamiliar
blooms in his chest as he stares down at Taehyung, something heady and powerful and completely
unrecognizable. And he doesn’t like it.

He steps away from the bed, thinking he’ll just get dressed and leave－but instead of heading for
the door, he steps back into the bathroom and grabs a washcloth, wetting it with warm water and
goes back out into the bedroom. He carefully sits beside Taehyung and gently wipes away the
semen still drying on his skin. Because he’s decided to sleep here for the night and he does not
want to sleep next to someone who’s covered in crusty, drying cum. That’s the only reason he does
it.

Taehyung stirs, murmuring softly but doesn’t wake up. Jungkook removes his shirt but keeps his
pants on as he climbs back onto the bed, stretching out beside Taehyung. For a few minutes he just
lays there, watching him sleep, following the rhythm of his breathing, unaware that he begins to
breathe in sync with Taehyung. He briefly considers taking the rest of the lingerie off of him,
remembering how Taehyung said it was uncomfortable to wear. But he dismisses the thought. Let
the little whore sleep like that, why should Jungkook give a fuck if he was uncomfortable?

Jungkook has never stayed the night at the Bird Cage, never seen a reason to. But he decides, just
for tonight, he’ll make an exception for Taehyung. He seems to be making a lot of exceptions for
this kid.
His eyelids grow heavy and they start to droop shut but Jungkook fights his exhaustion, wanting to
watch Taehyung for a little bit longer. He’s a lot nicer when he’s asleep, Jungkook thinks.
Definitely a lot less hostile.

He drifts off, making a mental note to talk to Hobi first thing tomorrow morning before sleep
finally claims him.

***

In another room at the Bird Cage, Yoongi and Jimin lie entwined together in bed, naked and close,
their skin glistening with the afterglow of sex. Yoongi stares into Jimin’s eyes, feeling that familiar
warmth expand in his chest. A warmth that will turn into a terrible, searing ache by tomorrow
morning.

“I missed you,” Jimin whispers, lacing their fingers together, snuggling even closer.

“Missed you too, Chim,” Yoongi says softly. He brings Jimin’s hand up to his mouth, kissing his
palm. “I always miss you.”

“Me too.” Jimin glances away from him, his bottom lip trembling and he sniffles.

“Oh, baby, don’t…please don’t…”

“It’s just I can’t stand it sometimes, Yoongi,” Jimin says, his voice choked with tears. “I can’t
stand being apart from you, having to stay here.” He swipes a hand across his eyes, his breath
hitching. “When are you going to walk away from him? When is he going to let you leave?”

“I told you, baby, I can’t leave right now. There’s…something I need to take care of. Something
that I’m responsible for and Jungkook－”

“He’s evil,” Jimin says darkly. “All he does is use you, he doesn’t care about you, he doesn’t care
about anybody, he－”

“Jimin.” Yoongi says his name gently, softly, but there is still a note of warning in his voice.

Jimin huffs. “Whatever. I know you can’t tell me the reason but that doesn’t mean I can’t still hate
him.” He looks into Yoongi’s eyes, his beautiful face shaded with anger. “And you should hate
him too.”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything, just pulls Jimin more tightly into his arms, kissing his forehead. He
feels like whenever he’s holding Jimin, he’s holding the only piece of his heart that’s still left to
him.
 Chapter 2
Chapter Summary

Taehyung makes a deal with the devil.

Chapter Notes

TRIGGER WARNING: Once again this chapter contains a sex scene that features
extremely dubious consent and verbal abuse. Don't like, don't read.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Jungkook lights up a cigarette in Hoseok’s oak-paneled office, lounging in one of the brown leather
armchairs facing his desk. “I want you to draw up an exclusivity contract for me,” he says. “With
Kim Taehyung.” Jin sits quietly on the tufted sofa sitting along one wall, scrolling through his
phone, pretending he’s not eavesdropping. Jungkook doesn’t know where Yoongi is. Though he’s
got a pretty good guess.

Hoseok’s eyebrows flick up and he stares at Jungkook through his ever-present tinted aviator
sunglasses. “Um…an exclusivity contract? I was under the impression you didn’t approve of those,
JK.” He smirks. “In fact, I remember you telling me that if I ever offered those kinds of contracts
at the Bird Cage again, that you would, uh, let’s see, how did you put it…” His smirk widens. “Oh
yeah, you would ‘stuff me into one of my own bird cages and throw it in the Han river.’”

“You’re going to make an exception for me, my friend.” Jungkook blows out a long stream of
smoke through his lips. “You’re going to sell Kim Taehyung to me and he’s going to leave the Bird
Cage and come live at my place.”

“Hmm… is that so?” Hoseok crosses his arms, leaning back in his desk chair. “I don’t know if I
can do that, JK.” He shrugs. “You see, I was planning on making him a peacock after his debut.
I’ve already had requests for him pouring in since last night, I could have this kid booked solid for
a month straight at the Cage. I mean, never mind the auction last night, that was insane, but his
earning potential is off the charts. Hell, Sangwoo told me last night he’s willing to pay big money
to get to have a nice little foursome with Taehyung, Jimin, and Chanmi.”

Jungkook feels his jaw clench at the thought of Taehyung being in bed with someone else, all those
gang leaders pawing at him, dirtying him with their filthy fucking hands, making Taehyung suck
them off, his ass being claimed by a different cock every night…

He inhales another lungful of smoke, trying to compose himself. “Well, let’s negotiate then,” he
says. “You tell me what you think the little whore is worth and we’ll see if we can come to some
sort of arrangement.” If he owned the controlling share of the Bird Cage, he wouldn’t even have to
be here in Hoseok’s office right now, he could have just taken Taehyung already. But Hoseok is
sharp, clever, always making sure that the majority of his ‘pleasure palace’ belongs to him and is
under his shrewd dominion. And he can be dangerous too, especially when men come in and try to
steal away his ‘birds.’ Jungkook knows of a few men who had tried to spirit away Hobi’s whores
over the years only to end up with knives protruding from their chests, little heart shapes cut into
their cheeks－Hobi’s signature. And the whores always end up back at the Cage, safe and
relatively sound.

So Jungkook, out of respect and out of a sense of self-preservation, is forced to bargain with him.

“Well, let me see…” Hoseok says, tilting his face up to the ceiling, his expression thoughtful.
“What am I willing to let him go for…”

“Keep in mind I already paid a million fucking dollars for him,” Jungkook says stiffly.

“For his virginity, yeah. And that was at auction, I didn’t actually think his price would go that
high.”

Jungkook watches him carefully. “So you don’t actually think he’s worth that much.”

“I didn’t say that,” Hoseok says hastily. “I already knew the kid would be a fucking gold mine. So
you understand, if I’m going to sell him to you, well…it’s going to cost you.”

“Hobi, just stop dicking me around and tell me how much you want for him.”

“Hmm…well, I’m going to have to pay the kid a percentage of his auction fee so I’ll be out a
hundred thou so I’ll want to recoup that…and then, say if you want a contract with him for a full
year, I’ll want to make sure to be reimbursed for all the money he could be potentially making for
me if he stays here…plus maybe throw in another fifty thousand for his ass alone…” He taps his
chin and then looks across his desk at Jungkook, grinning at him toothily. “I think three hundred
thousand would be fair.”

“You want three hundred fucking grand for him?”

Hoseok’s smile turns a touch cold and Jungkook can almost hear the theme song from
Jaws playing in the background. “Did you not see all those leaders crowded around his cage last
night? Did you yourself not bid a million fucking dollars on him? For one fucking night?” He leans
forward, propping his elbows on his desk, clasping his hands in front of him. “I’d say three
hundred grand is a fucking steal, JK. Consider it a sign of our friendship that I’m not asking for
twice that amount.”

Jungkook drums his fingers against the arm of the chair for a couple of seconds, glaring at Hoseok
before rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he snaps. “Now draw up the fucking contract, I want to take him
with me today.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Hoseok says, waggling a finger at him. “Our little Taehyungie has to agree to it, too.
He might just want to stay here with Uncle Hobi and his birds.” He lowers his head, looking at
Jungkook from over the top of his aviators. “And keep in mind, you’ll be paying for all his
expenses too if he’s going to be living with you. And you’ll have to pay him something as well.”
The corners of his lips quirk up. “You are very handsome yourself, JK, but I doubt Taehyung will
want to suck your dick for free.”

“Whatever. Just get him in here so we can finalize everything.”

Hoseok sends one of his guards to go fetch Taehyung and Jungkook turns to Jin, signaling for him
to hand over the ashtray lying on the little table beside him. Jin wordlessly passes it to him and
Jungkook stubs out his cigarette, exhaling the last of the smoke from his nostrils. The ticking of
Hosoek’s antique grandfather clock seems very loud in his ears as he waits for the guard to bring
Taehyung to the office.
He had woken up this morning beside Taehyung, finding that he had unconsciously moved closer
to him during the night, his arm draped loosely across the kid’s waist. Taehyung, for his part, was
curled into a little ball, facing away from him, still sleeping soundly. He was still wearing the
lingerie Jungkook had left on him last night, the garter belt riding up and digging into his waist,
exposing more red lines where the elastic had cut into his skin. And then there were the little pink
marks left on his ass where Jungkook had spanked him.

He had gotten up, put his shirt and jacket back on, and left the room without a backwards glance－
only to immediately go back in and fold the duvet over Taehyung, covering him up. Only because
Hoseok always cranked the A/C in the place for some reason and only because the kid was too
dumb to wake up and get underneath the fucking covers, sleeping on top of the blanket like an
idiot.

Or maybe it was because he was simply too exhausted from what Jungkook had done to him last
night.

“So,” Hoseok says, breaking Jungkook out of his thoughts. “How was he?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Virginal. You were right about his ass though.”

“Oh, fuck, I know, right?” Hoseok gets up from his desk chair and starts to wander aimlessly
around the room, his hands in his pockets. He pauses in front the Japanese shunga print he proudly
displays along one wall that depicts a woman being eaten out by an octopus. “I’ll admit, I was
tempted to take him for a little spin myself when I first discovered him,” he says, gazing at the
picture. “Wine and dine him, you know? Do the thing properly.” He glances over his shoulder at
Jungkook, grinning wickedly. “And then pop his little cherry right on my desk.”

Jungkook bristles at the thought, shifting in his chair. He’s got his switchblade on him still, he
could just take it out and throw it at Hobi’s smug fucking face or, better yet, use it to puncture his
ballsack－

A soft knock sounds at the door and Hoseok sighs. “I suppose it’s just as well,” he says, heading
for the door. “Money will always do more for me than a good fuck.”

The door is behind Jungkook and he makes himself face forward as Hoseok opens it, trying to
ignore the crackle of anticipation he feels at seeing Taehyung again.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he hears Hoseok say. “Come in, come in. How you feeling, kid?”

“Tired, Hobi.” Taehyung’s voice is rough, gravelly. “A bit sore.”

Jungkook can’t help but smirk at that and he turns his head to glance back at Taehyung. “Oh, I’ll
bet you are, sweetheart.”

Taehyung looks at him, surprise written on his face, clearly not expecting to see Jungkook in
Hoseok’s office. He looks disheveled, his wavy black hair messy and rumpled, little pieces sticking
out all over his head like tiny feathers. Not dressed in lingerie anymore, his lithe frame is covered
with an oversized white button-down shirt, so big that he’s practically drowning in it, the sleeves
flopping down over his hands. His shapely legs are disguised by loose-fitting black pants and
Jungkook notices that he’s foregone shoes completely, exposing what Jungkook will admit are
exceptionally pretty feet.

He feels a surge of white-hot lust, even seeing Taehyung dressed like this and for a second, he
considers ordering Hoseok and Jin from the room so he can be alone with Taehyung again. Or
maybe he’ll allow Hoseok to stay and watch while he fucks Taehyung on the desk, so Hobi will
see exactly who Taehyung belongs to.

But…better not to do anything like that until the contract is signed.

Confusion passes over Taehyung’s face for a split second as he stares at Jungkook, swiftly replaced
a moment later by anger.

“What’s this about?” he says, turning to Hoseok. “Is he saying that I didn’t perform last night or
something? Because if he is, he’s fucking lying, I did exactly what I was supposed to do－”

“Relax, my lovely,” Hoseok says, squeezing his shoulders. “No one’s accusing you of anything,
we’re just here to talk some business.” He gestures to the empty arm chair next to Jungkook’s.
“Why don’t you sit down, Taehyungie?”

“If you can,” Jungkook quips, cocking an eyebrow at him but Taehyung just gives him a sour look
as he climbs into the chair next to Jungkook--albeit gingerly, curling up in it like a child, tucking
his legs underneath him. He glances at Jin briefly, looking vaguely curious but then turns back to
Hoseok who has returned to his desk chair, sitting across from them.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung says, staring down at the floor, not meeting Jungkook’s eye.

“Jung－er, Mr. Jeon here has made an offer for you, precious. Apparently he had so much fun with
you last night that he wants you all to himself.”

Taehyung frowns slightly, fiddling with the button on his sleeve. “So…what does that mean,
‘made an offer’?”

“It simply means he wants to buy you from me. Or, rent you out rather, usually for the extent of a
year. We call it an exclusivity contract.”

Taehyung’s nose scrunches up, his hand still plucking at his sleeves. “So…I’d just be having sex
with him? Not anybody else?”

“That’s right, honey, you’d be his exclusive escort, go live with him and everything, attend any
functions he wants to bring you to and, of course,” he gives Taehyung a feral grin, “perform sexual
services for him.”

“Um…” Taehyung finally looks up at Jungkook, his expression carefully neutral. “So I’d be like
your sex slave?”

Jungkook smirks. “Well, I’ll be paying you so you’d be more of a sex servant. But we can go with
sex slave if that’s what you want me to call you.”

“How much?”

“What?”

“How much will you be paying me?”

Jungkook pauses, doing some calculations in his head, trying to come up with a number that would
appeal to Taehyung, persuade him to come with him. “Ten thousand a month,” he says after a few
seconds. “That’s in American money, of course.”

“Oh.” Taehyung looks down again. “So, um, that would be…” He trails off, his brow furrowed in
concentration.

“Twelve million won,” Jin supplies and Taehyung looks over at him. “Uh, give or take.”

Taehyung offers Jin a shy smile. “Thank you,” he says softly.

“You’re welcome,” Jin replies, returning his smile－but immediately stops when he sees Jungkook
glaring at him.

“Okay…” Taehyung says and Jungkook turns back to him. “How much would I be making per
month if I stayed here?” he asks Hoseok.

Jungkook tenses when he sees Hoseok’s smile widen and, too late, he realizes the trap he’s just
walked into. “Honey,” Hoseok purrs, “he’s insulting you with that number. If you stayed here, you
could be making ten grand a week. Easily.”

“Making ten grand for you, Hobi,” Jungkook grits out. He turns to look at Taehyung. “Remember,
kid, you’d only be seeing a tiny percentage of what you made here. With me, you’d be keeping the
full amount, no strings attached.” He looks back at Hoseok, smiling wolfishly. “And don’t forget
‘Uncle Hobi’ here always takes a bite out of your earnings, deductions for your food and your
clothes and your rent. So, in reality, you might be making, what? Fifteen percent of what you pull
in? Less?”

Hoseok glares at him through his tinted sunglasses but Jungkook just looks calmly back at him,
completely unruffled. On the outside at least. But inside, his heart is pounding with anxiety, not
knowing what he’ll do if Taehyung decides to stay at the Cage. Because he already considers
Taehyung as his and he’ll be damned if he allows him to stay here and be touched by other men.

Say YES say YES say YES.

Taehyung closes his eyes and bows his head, rubbing at his forehead. He stays like that for a few
seconds, still curled up in the chair and Jungkook finds himself curious to know what’s going on in
the kid’s head right now. Then Taehyung straightens up and looks over at Jungkook, his face set in
the same stubborn expression he wore last night. “I want twenty thousand a month.”

Hobi coughs and Jungkook has the suspicion that he’s covering up a snort of laughter.

“Twenty thousand American,” Taehyung adds hastily.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. He can’t believe this kid has the audacity to try and fucking negotiate
with him. “You greedy little whore, ten thousand a month is plenty－”

“Sure it is,” Taehyung says, shrugging. “But I want twenty.”

Jungkook grinds his teeth. “Fifteen thousand,” he counters.

“Twenty thousand or I’m not signing any fucking contract and I’ll stay right here.”

“Right,” Jungkook sneers. “Stay here and be fucked in the ass by a different guy every night.” He
leans toward Taehyung, baring his teeth in a cruel smile. “You know what the average age is of the
clients in this place? Fifty-five. You’ll be servicing old men with shriveled ball sacks, men who
can’t get laid unless they fucking pay for it.”

“You’d be paying for it,” Taehyung points out.

“I told you last night, baby doll, paying for it simplifies things for me. Just because I want to pay
for sex doesn’t mean I have to.”

“Fine. But I still want twenty thousand a month or no deal. You can pay someone else for it.”

Jungkook glares at Taehyung. And for a second he considers just getting up and walking out of
Hoseok’s office, leaving Taehyung there. Let the little whore stay at the Cage and be used by
countless men, slaving away for a pittance of what he could be earning with Jungkook. That would
teach him a lesson, he’d be crawling after Jungkook in a matter of days, begging him to get him out
of here, crying for Jungkook to take him, have him for nothing at all if he’d only please god, get
him out of here…

Because, even if Taehyung doesn’t know it yet, there are men who come to the Bird Cage who
would treat him a million times worse than Jungkook had last night. Men who wouldn’t just leave
marks on his ass but on his throat, his face. And then there were the rumors about Jwi Haechung
being into knife play…

Jungkook knows he isn’t exactly the gentlest of lovers. But he isn’t nearly as fucked up as some of
the sadistic bastards that frequented the Bird Cage, the kind of scum Hobi allowed to purchase his
‘birds.’

He doesn’t want any of them near Taehyung. As much as they had all hooted and hollered about
him being a ‘wildcat’ last night, Jungkook knows that the second Taehyung mouthed off to any of
them, they’d backhand him across the room. Hell, Jwi Haechung was probably already planning
some sort of sick revenge on Taehyung for what he said to him last night.

He needs to get him out of here. Because he’s not finished with him yet, still wants Taehyung to
yield to him, wants to tame that fire that burns within him, turn him into the perfect little sex toy
that he is so clearly meant to be. Get him so that he’ll spread his legs for Jungkook at a moment’s
notice, or drop to his knees, oh, Jungkook, yes, give me your cock…

He sighs. But it appears Taehyung has the upper hand at the moment. Because Jungkook has a
feeling that Taehyung doesn’t care who fucks him as long as he gets paid. So if money is what
Taehyung wants, Jungkook will give it to him. And keep giving it to him until the day he finally
breaks Taehyung, until the day all Taehyung wants from him is his cock.

He really doesn’t know why he cares so much. He supposes it must be an ego thing. But knowing
that doesn’t mean he’s willing to walk away.

“Fine,” he says. “Twenty thousand a month it is.” He turns to Hoseok again, giving him a
triumphant stare. “Draw up the contract for us, would you, Hobi? I’d like to be out of here by
lunchtime.”

They sit in silence for twenty minutes, while Hoseok writes up a draft on his computer, muttering
under his breath the entire time, his fingers slamming down on the keys harder than is strictly
necessary. But Jungkook doesn’t care if Hobi is annoyed at losing Taehyung. The kid agreed to his
offer so he won, fair and square. And Hoseok is extracting another three hundred thousand from
him so Jungkook doesn’t see what he has to complain about.

Hoseok prints out the contract and Jungkook carefully reads it over, making sure that it explicitly
states that Taehyung is his exclusive escort and that he’s not to offer his ‘services’ to anyone else.
Once he’s done reading it through he starts to pass it back to Hoseok but then Taehyung holds out
a hand for it.
“I’d like to read it too, if you don’t mind,” he says stiffly.

So Jungkook is forced to wait another ten fucking minutes while Taehyung reads through the
contract, clutching the paper with both hands, studying it as if he’s trying to work out some secret
code.

“Um…it says here you get to pick out my clothes? Why would you get to do that?”

“I’m renting your body out, aren’t I?” Jungkook says dryly. “Don’t you think it makes sense that I
decide what goes on it?”

For a second, Taehyung looks like he wants to argue but then he just shrugs and goes back to
reading the contract. “Whatever,” he mutters.

He gets to the end and then looks up at Hoseok, biting his lip. “Um…can I have something added
in there? Like a condition?”

“A stipulation, you mean?” and Taehyung nods, blushing slightly. “Of course, you can, my darling,
I’m sure Jungkook will give you anything you want.” He flashes a grin at Jungkook but Jungkook
just gives him a cold stare.

“No kissing on the mouth,” Taehyung says quietly. “I want it to say that.”

Jungkook snorts. “That’s a little cliché, don’t you think?”

“I don’t care,” Taehyung says, glancing at him. “I don’t want my first kiss to be with someone like
you－” But then he clamps his mouth shut, looking away, the blush on his face deepening.

“You’ve never even been kissed?” He laughs derisively. “Jesus, you really are virginal.” Taehyung
doesn’t say anything, just sits curled up on the chair, staring at the ground, his arms crossed over
his chest. Jungkook rolls his eyes but then looks over at Hobi, jerking his chin at the computer.
“Fine, no kissing on the mouth, I don’t fucking care.” He smirks. “Like I said last night, plenty of
other things to use your mouth for.”

Hoseok prints out a final draft of the contract that includes Taehyung’s ‘no kissing’ stipulation and
they all read it over again, Hoseok and Jungkook signing at the bottom before passing it to
Taehyung. He holds the pen over the paper but then hesitates, looking up at Hoseok.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Hoseok says eagerly. “Having second thoughts?”

“It’s just…” Taehyung glances down at the contract again, tapping the pen against the paper.
“There’s no way this is legally binding…is there?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Jungkook snaps. “You really think if you break the contract, I’m going to sic
a lawyer on you? Take you to court or something?” He gestures around the room. “Look where you
are, kid. You realize the kind of people you’re dealing with, don’t you? We have other ways of
managing people who don’t keep their word.”

Taehyung blinks at him, his eyes round in his handsome face and then he slowly turns to look at
Hoseok who just shrugs at him, giving him a small, tight smile. He looks down at the contract
again, sucking in a breath.

“Twenty thousand a month, Taehyung,” Jungkook says softly. “Just for providing me with sex. It
really shouldn’t be that difficult for you to stick to the contract.”
For a moment, time seems to slow down, stop as Taehyung holds the pen over the contract, the tip
of it hovering just above the paper, trembling slightly. And then he lowers it, signing his name and
Jungkook feels a wave of savage victory rise up inside him. He’s MINE.

Taehyung makes a small noise, something like a sob and he shoves the paper at Hoseok before
getting up and going to the door.

“Where are you－”

“Going to get my stuff,” he chokes out before disappearing into the hallway, slamming the door
behind him.

Hoseok sighs. “Congratulations, JK.” he says, giving Jungkook a sardonic smile. “I hope you two
are very happy together.”

“Well, I don’t know about him,” Jungkook says, smoothing his hands down the front of his suit.
Then he grins. “But I will be.”

***

Taehyung steps into his room, closing the door behind him. For a minute, he leans his head back
against the wood, eyes closed, trying to take deep, calming breaths.

Breathe…just breathe…

He must be crazy. He must be out of his goddamned mind to sign a contract with that fucking
psycho. The guy probably eats live puppies for breakfast.

But…the money. He has a hundred thousand dollars from last night, he had checked the account
Hobi had set up for him first thing this morning and there it was－over a hundred BILLION won, a
number so ridiculous that he had used a currency converter to make sure that it was accurate. He
could hardly believe that such an insane amount was attached to his name, was there for him to
use.

And, while it was more than enough to start a brand new life for himself, leave this all behind and
start over…he wants more. He can’t believe that he’s turned into some sort of greedy asshole
virtually overnight, like a gold-hoarding dragon who always craves more. But who knows how
long that money will last him if he just takes it and goes? What if it’s only enough to survive on for
a few years? What if he runs out?

But with this contract with Mr. Jeon, Mr. I Don’t Have to Pay for Sex but I’m Going to Anyways,
he’ll have almost three times the amount he made last night by the end of the year. Then he’ll be
all set and, during that year, he’ll have some breathing room, maybe, to figure out what he really
wants to do with the rest of his life. He can actually plan for his future. And besides, it’s only for
twelve months and it’s just sex, after all…

He feels his cheeks warm as he recalls last night with Mr. Jeon, the shock of it, the sensations, the
feeling of someone’s hands on his skin, something he’d never experienced before. It had all gone
by in a blur, he could barely keep up with what had been happening to him, it had hurt and then it
hadn’t, it had been so awful but had felt so incredible when he had made Taehyung come and come
and come again, moving against that spot inside him that Taehyung had never even been aware of
before, his orgasms crashing over him like tidal waves.

Whore. Bitch. Slut.

It had been humiliating and degrading and so not what he had envisioned his first time to be like.
But there were worse things, weren’t there? Like being starving and homeless, living on the street.
Or curled up all alone on a cot that was too small for him, sleeping in a back room that was always
too cold in the winter, stifling hot in the summer. It will just be for one measly year and then he’ll
be free.

And it’s just one man. He’ll only be having sex with one man, instead of many and better the devil
you do know than the devil you don’t and all that. And there had been so many devils surrounding
his cage last night, whispering obscene, unspeakable things and Mr. Jeon, as awful as he is, seems
like he just might be the best option. Or at least, not the worst. At least he had listened when
Taehyung told him not to kiss him. And not bad looking either, at least he wasn’t one of those fat,
grey-bearded fucks that had been leering at him through the cage last night…

He gives himself a tiny shake, blowing out a breath. God, he can’t believe he’s actually trying to
justify that asshole.

Taehyung goes to the closet, yanks it open and finds a small overnight bag that is apparently
supposed to be for so-called ‘dates’ outside of the Bird Cage and starts throwing in some clothes,
including the new ones Hoseok had provided for him, some just for lounging around the living
quarters and some skimpier ones for those ‘dates.’ Let Mr. Jeon decide what he wants Taehyung to
wear, he really doesn’t give a fuck.

He grabs his single photograph of her out of the bedside table, goes to shove it in his bag, not
wanting to look at it while he’s still here－but then pauses and holds it to his chest, pressing it
against his heartbeat. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to end up here but you left me, you left
me all alone…

He rubs his thumb against the cheap plastic frame that holds the photo, promising himself to get a
new one for it, a really nice expensive one that has flowers on it or something, it’ll be the first
thing he buys with his money.

A knock sounds at the door and Taehyung quickly shoves the photo into the bag, burying it
underneath the clothes piled inside.

“Uh, just a second!” He can’t believe that they’ve sent someone after him already, what did they
think he was going to do, run away?

“Tae?” a voice calls from behind the door and Taehyung heaves a sigh of relief when he realizes
who it is. “You okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah, Jiminie, sorry, you can come in now.”

“Can you let me in? My hands are full.”

Taehyung goes to open the door and Jimin steps inside, his arms laden down with what looks like
the entire contents of the pantry in the communal kitchen.

“Hey, sweetie,” Jimin says, giving him a soft smile. “How you feeling?”

“Uh, fine, I guess but－”

“Well, don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you to tell me about it. Not yet anyways.” He bustles over
to Taehyung’s bed, tipping the snacks he’s holding onto the comforter. “Let’s see, I’ve got cookies,
candy, those weird shrimp chips that you like for some reason, but it looks like fucking Chanmi ate
all the honey twists. Again.”

“Jimin－”

“I’ll have to go back for the sodas. Oh, and the soju I promised you. Like, I know you’re not a big
drinker, Tae, but we are drinking today.”

“Jimin, I－”

“So, let me go grab some drinks and then when I get back, we’ll pig out, watch some movies and
just…talk. I mean, if you want to talk about it.”

Taehyung sighs. “You’re the best, Jiminie. Really, you are and I want a junk food fueled movie
binge more than anything but…I have to go.”

“Go? Go where?” Jimin’s eyes fall on the little overnight bag stuffed with clothes. “Jesus, have you
been requested to go out on a date already?”

“No, I’ve been…uh…sold, I guess.”

“Sold?” Jimin’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “What do you mean, sold?”

“I signed a, oh what’s it called, one of those exclusivity thingies. With the guy who, um, won me
last night.”

Jimin stares at him for a long moment and Taehyung feels himself blush.

“But,” Jimin says, shaking his head slightly, “that can’t be right. I mean, they don’t do those kinds
of contracts here. Not anymore.”

“Well, apparently they do because I just signed one.”

“Oh.” Jimin glances away from him, his eyes bright, and he looks confused. Then he clears his
throat and looks back at Taehyung. “Who’d you sign it with?”

Taehyung wanders over to where Jimin is standing by the bed and zips up his bag. “Said his name
was Mr. Jeon? I don’t know his full na－”

“Jeon Jungkook?” Jimin says shrilly and Taehyung looks up at him, startled.

“Maybe? I don’t know how many Mr. Jeons there are－”

“Young? Black hair, black eyes, has that whole ‘spawn of Satan’ vibe?”

“Um…I guess? Sure sounds like him.”

“No,” Jimin groans, clawing his hands down his face, “no, no, no, no－”

“You’re really not being very reassuring here, Jiminie.”

“Reassuring? You’ve just signed a fucking contract with the biggest crime boss in Seoul and you
want me to be reassuring?” Jimin grabs Taehyung’s arm, his eyes wild. “Tae, you need to run, you
need to get the fuck out of here－”
“And fucking go where?” Taehyung snaps.

“Anywhere, you idiot, you’ve got the money from your auction, you can leave the city－”

“I got the serious impression that running away wasn’t a very smart thing to do, Jimin,” Taehyung
says through gritted teeth. “And, I know I have money now but…” He looks down at his feet. “I
want more,” he says softly. “And…he’s offering me a lot. Just for a year and then I’ll be set.” He
shrugs. “It’s just sex. Whether it’s here with a bunch of different guys or just with him at his place,
I really don’t give a shit. So what does it matter?”

Jimin sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “How much do you know about him?”

“Hardly anything. We didn’t really talk that much, it’s not like he paid that kind of money to have a
conversation with me.” He fiddles with the zipper on his bag. “All I can tell so far is that he gets
off on being controlling but you said they were all like that.”

“Not all of them,” Jimin says quietly. Something vulnerable passes over his face for a second but
then he reels it back in, his jaw tightening. “But Jeon Jungkook’s definitely one of those types. Evil
son of a bitch, always has to have things the way he wants them, doesn’t care about anybody but
himself.” He looks away, hugging himself. “Fucking bastard, can’t leave anything the fuck alone.”

“Um, have you, uh, you know…” Taehyung says hesitantly, “had to do it with him?”

Jimin lets out a noise of disgust. “Fuck no. I’d cut that asshole’s dick off if he tried to come near
me and he fucking knows it.” He exhales, shaking his head. “He’s always seemed to prefer women
anyways. And it’s funny, I’ve never heard any really bad stories about him from any of the other
girls. Jasmine says he’s never gotten super rough with her or anything, he just kind of likes to get
in, get off, and get out, you know?” His lips twist into a grim smile. “I think she’s got some kind of
sick crush on him, the silly bimbo.”

“Ah. Well, maybe he was having a bad night last night.”

Jimin blinks at him, looking stricken. “Oh my god, Tae,” he whispers. “Did he hurt you?”

“He…” An image flashes through his mind of Jungkook looming behind him, bringing his hand
down on his ass, pushing his cock inside of him, slow at first but then faster, harder. The pain and
the pleasure had all blended together and Taehyung feels like he isn’t equipped to know how to
separate the two.

Whore. Bitch. Slut.

Taehyung gives a helpless sort of shrug. “I don’t know how to feel about it, it was just kind of…
overwhelming, I guess. And, I dunno, he wasn’t exactly gentle but I just get the feeling like he
could have done a lot worse? Or, I could have been auctioned off to someone else who could have
done a lot worse?”

But Jimin is shaking his head, glaring at him. “Don’t do that, Tae. Don’t you dare do that and try to
let him off the hook.” He steps closer, placing a hand on his arm. “They all have a choice when
they come here. They choose how they’re going to treat us and the fact that the majority of them
get their rocks off by being degrading and mean and acting like we’re fucking inanimate sex dolls
speaks volumes about them. Don’t you ever let it reflect on you because it doesn’t.”

“I know that, Jimin,” Taehyung says quietly. “And I know you’re concerned about me but…I can
handle it. Or, I’m pretty sure I can handle it.” He gives Jimin a reassuring smile. “It’s going to take
a lot more than a fucking wannabe dom crime boss to intimidate me.”
Jimin huffs out a laugh, giving him a light punch on the shoulder. “You’ve got spirit kid, I’ll give
ya that,” he jokes, mimicking Hobi’s condescending chummy tone and Taehyung laughs too.

Jimin’s face sobers as he pulls his hand back. “You can’t forget that he’s dangerous, though, Tae.
Seriously. He’s the leader of the Yong Jegug and they don’t exactly run a bakery.”

“What do you know about him?”

“Only that he became the leader a few months ago because the previous one died. Murdered,
according to the rumors. I’ve only been here about a year, remember, I’m not up on all the details
but I think he was related to Jungkook in some way. His father or uncle or something like that.
Yoongi won’t－” Jimin stops himself, his face flushing. “I mean, they tend to keep those kinds of
details under wraps. Who’s related to who. For obvious reasons.” He rolls his eyes. “All the gangs
are so incestual though, it’s always fathers and sons and brothers and fifth cousins twice removed
and shit like that.”

“I guess. I don’t really know much about it.”

“I know.” Jimin reaches out and takes Taehyung’s hand in one of his small, chubby ones. “Just be
careful, okay?” he whispers. “I mean, don’t let him push you around, stand up for yourself but be
smart about it. Choose your battles.”

Admit it, you little whore, you fucking liked it. You want me to do it again.

All I want is my fucking money. I don’t have to admit anything to you.

Taehyung gives Jimin a wry smile. “Don’t worry, I can take him.”

“Ugh, that attitude is going to get you killed one day, Tae, I swear to god.” Jimin heaves a sigh and
then squeezes his hand. “But listen to me, sweetie, if things ever get really bad and you want
out…” He bites his lip and hesitates before going on. “There’s a man that works for him, Min
Yoongi and he’s…a friend of mine. If you’re ever in trouble, go talk to him, okay? Just drop my
name and he’ll look after you.”

“Thanks, Jimin,” Taehyung says softly. “It means a lot.”

Jimin’s chin wobbles and he lets out a shaky breath. “God, just come here, you dummy,” he gasps
out, pulling Taehyung into a hug. “Can’t believe how fucking stupid you are, selling yourself to a
psychotic criminal. What is your fucking problem, you got a death wish or something?”

Taehyung hugs him back, squeezing tightly. “I’ll miss you too, Jiminie.”

“Fucking brat,” Jimin grumbles. “You’re the best fucking friend I’ve ever had in this place and
you’re already leaving me.”

“I can try and sneak you out,” Taehyung says, “I bet you anything you’d fit in my pocket.”

“Shut up, you dick. I’m not that fucking small.”

They both laugh and then just stand there for a few long seconds, holding each other as tightly as
possible. Taehyung hadn’t expected to find a friend like Jimin in a place like this. And it sucks that
he has to leave him behind already.

Someone knocks on the door before pushing it open and they both pull away from each other,
looking around to see Bo, one of Hoseok’s security guards.
“Come on, kid,” he says gruffly. “They’re waitin’ for you.”

Taehyung picks up his bag, giving Jimin’s hand one last squeeze. “Bye, Jiminie.”

“Bye, TaeTae,” Jimin replies, squeezing his hand back. “Don’t forget what I told you.”

Taehyung nods and then turns and follows Bo out of the room, not looking back. He’ll just end up
crying if he does and he doesn’t want to go back to Jungkook looking like he’s been weeping over
his fate, doesn’t want to look afraid or weak.

Jungkook. I know your name now, asshole.

Somehow, this small piece of information feels like some sort of secret weapon, something he can
use against the crime boss. Or at least, throw him off balance somehow.

He follows Bo out of the living quarters, upstairs through the fancy, twisting hallway that has all of
the ‘clients’ rooms on either side of it.

I lost my virginity in one of these rooms last night, Taehyung thinks. He can’t remember which
one, though. And it’s not like it matters.

Bo doesn’t say anything as he leads him through the maze of the Bird Cage. He’s a big bear of a
man, gruff and unsmiling all of the time and the top of Taehyung’s head barely reaches up to his
shoulder. But he had once slipped Taehyung a candy bar after bringing him back to his room from
one of Hobi’s ‘blowjob practices’ and had gone out on a special trip to get some popcorn for him
and Jimin when they decided to have their first movie night together.

A door opens down the hall and a man slips out, zipping up his fly before he looks up and spots
them. Taehyung recognizes him, the one who had threatened to make him bleed, the one with
craters of acne scars and yellow, rat-like teeth. Truck Face.

Bo holds up a hand in front of Taehyung, halting him. “Jwi, what the fuck are you still doing here?
Go the fuck home already.”

“Just getting my money’s worth, Bo, you know how it is,” the man called Jwi says in a greasy
voice. “Gotta get your sucks and fucks in while you can－” His eyes fall on Taehyung standing
beside Bo and his lips pull back in a cruel smile. “Well, well, well,” he says smoothly, tilting his
head to the side, “if it isn’t our pure little dove.” He looks Taehyung up and down and Taehyung
flinches as if the man’s gaze is a physical sensation on his skin, slimy and oozing. “Not so pure
anymore, are you, you little slut?”

“Jwi,” Bo says, a warning in his voice. “Fuck off. I mean it.”

“I just want to ask him a few questions, my man,” Jwi says, his eyes raking over Taehyung. “Who
made you their little whore last night, hmm?” He takes a step closer and Taehyung can feel Bo
tense beside him. “Who claimed your little virgin hole? Whoever it was can’t have done it properly
if you’re able to walk around right now－”

“Is it in yet?” Taehyung says.

Jwi’s ugly face scrunches up in puzzlement. “What?”

“’Is it in yet?’ I mean, is that a question you get a lot?” Taehyung gives him his most innocent
smile. “Like, do people even notice when you’re fucking them? Or do they just wonder why
you’re flopping around on top of them like a fish?”
“You little－” Jwi lunges for him but Bo steps in front of Taehyung, slamming Jwi against the
wall.

“Jwi, knock it off before I beat your ass－”

“I’m going to come back here, you little fucking whore!” Jwi screams at Taehyung, his eyes
bulging out of his face. “I’m going to fucking destroy your fucking hole, jam my dick so far up
your ass it comes out your fucking whore mouth－”

Taehyung’s hands clench into fists, glaring straight into Jwi’s ugly rat face. “Don’t promise
something you can’t fucking deliver, you peanut-dicked motherfucker!”

Jwi lets out another howl of rage, making another grab for him but Bo just gets his elbow against
his neck, digging it into his throat.

“Kid, would you just get the fuck out of here already?”

Taehyung marches away down the hallway, Jwi still screaming threats at him. And right now, he’s
almost glad that he’s going with Jungkook. Because he’d rather slit his own throat than let that
sadistic twisted fuck anywhere near him. Christ, Jungkook seemed like a fluffy little bunny rabbit
compared to that guy.

He makes his way back to Hobi’s office, gets lost on the way and has to ask another one of the
security guards to point him in the right direction until he finally turns a corner and sees Hoseok,
Jungkook, and the other man that had been with them, standing out in the hallway. He seems to be
an associate of Jungkook’s, tall and broad-shouldered and Taehyung wonders if this guy might be
Yoongi, Jimin’s friend. There does seem to be something kind about him, the way he had helped
Taehyung out back in the office and he thinks he might be the sort of man that Jimin would trust.

“It’s about fucking time,” Jungkook says irritably when Taehyung approaches them. “Got
everything?”

Taehyung gives him a curt nod, hiking his bag up his shoulder. Jungkook looks him up and down
and then stares pointedly at his feet. “You sure about that?”

Taehyung looks down. Shit. He’s completely forgotten to put shoes on. He bites his lip, curling his
toes into the carpet. “Oh, um, I’ll just－”

“Whatever,” Jungkook says. “We’re going shopping anyways.”

“We are?”

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow at him and then glances over at Hoseok. “Well, I’m sure as fuck not
having you wear whatever godawful outfits ‘Uncle Hobi’ here picked out for you.”

“Fuck you,” Hoseok says with a laugh. “I have excellent fucking taste!”

“You have atrocious taste, Hobi. That outfit you had him in last night made him look like a fucking
marshmallow.”

“Yeah, well, worked on you, didn’t it?” Hoseok says, nudging Jungkook with his elbow. Before
Jungkook can answer, Hoseok turns to Taehyung and tugs him forward, trapping him in a tight
hug.

Unlike with Jimin, Taehyung does not return this hug.

“I’m gonna miss you, kid,” Hoseok murmurs in his ear. “We could have done wonderful things
together, you and me.” He pulls back, squeezing Taehyung’s shoulders and beaming at him. “And
now, look at you, my little dove off to bigger and better things already.” He sighs, pinching
Taehyung’s cheek. “It didn’t last very long but I’d say we made magic happen. Right, kid?”

“Um…sure.”

“Hobi, come on,” Jungkook snaps. “I’ve got stuff to do, I don’t have all fucking day.”

Hoseok gives his cheek one last little pat and then finally relinquishes him. “Farewell, mon amour.
May you go on the wings of love and fly all the way to the moon.”

“Um…”

But Hoseok is already turning and strutting away down the hallway, his flamingo pink suit
clashing brilliantly with the red and gold decor.

Taehyung glances at Jungkook, raising his eyebrows and Jungkook returns the look with a small
smirk and he knows that the crime boss thinks Hoseok is just as crazy and ridiculous as Taehyung
does. It’s weird to have a moment of understanding with him so Taehyung deliberately looks away,
focusing on the other man instead.

“Oh, this is Jin,” Jungkook says carelessly. “One of my…associates. I’ll be assigning him to guard
you when I’m not around.”

So…not Yoongi then. Jin inclines his head in a respectful bow and Taehyung does the same.

“Um…nice to meet you?” He doesn’t really know what else he’s supposed to say.

Jin just straightens up and gives him a sober nod. But Taehyung could have sworn that he also tips
him the barest wink.

“Come on.” Jungkook turns and strides down the hallway without waiting for him and Taehyung
hurries to keep up.

“Do I really need a guard?” Taehyung says. “It’s not like I’m planning on making a break for it or
anything.”

Jungkook cuts him a glance. “He’ll be guarding you for your own protection, kid. Not to prevent
you from running away. I’m trusting the fact that you’re too smart to do something like that.”

“Why do I need protection, though? I can take care of myself.”

Jungkook heaves a sigh and stops walking, turning to face him. “Okay, look. I’m aware you’re
fully capable of handling yourself, Taehyung, judging from last night. Maybe a little too capable
for my taste.”

Taehyung feels his cheeks warm but he forces himself not to drop his gaze, staring Jungkook in the
eye.

“But you’re in my world now,” Jungkook goes on. “And you’re associated with me so that means
you need protection. I told Hoseok to keep our contract a secret but there’s always going to be a
risk. I’m not going to keep you locked up or anything, you can still go outside, go where you want,
but not without a guard. Is that clear?”
Taehyung wants to make some sort of snappy retort but then he remembers what Jimin had said.
Choose your battles.

“Yes,” he says shortly. “It’s clear.”

“Good.” Jungkook’s gaze travels over Taehyung’s body, landing on his bare feet again. His lips
twitch slightly but Taehyung can’t tell whether it’s from humor or disgust. “Shoes,” he mutters.
“Definitely new shoes first.” He starts walking again and Taehyung follows him.

“Where are we going exactly?”

“You’ll see.”

***

Yoongi stands by the Lincoln, waiting for Jungkook and Jin to come out of the casino doors.
Surprised that they were even still here, that Jungkook had stayed the night at the Bird Cage but he
had received a text from him this morning, telling him to meet him at the car.

He had gotten it while he was still in bed with Jimin.

He’s smoking a cigarette, sucking up the smoke, really trying to concentrate on the flavor of it, the
smell, like it’s a fine wine. Because the taste of Jimin’s lips still lingers on his own and if he
doesn’t get rid of the intoxicating sweetness, he’ll be thinking about him all day and he won’t be
able to concentrate on anything else.

It had been nearly impossible to make himself leave this morning. He had been ready to just ignore
Jungkook’s text message, better yet send him a text back telling him to fuck off but Jimin had
gently extricated himself from Yoongi’s arms, saying that he needed to go see a friend of his, check
up on him.

“Bye, honey,” Jimin had whispered, grasping Yoongi’s face in his small hands and pressing a
gentle kiss to his lips. “Until next time.” Jimin didn’t ask him when that would be. Neither of them
could say for sure.

He exhales a long stream of smoke on a sigh and looks up to see Jin and Jungkook approaching the
car. Followed by some messy-haired kid. With no shoes. It’s September so it’s not that cold out but
still. Not exactly warm enough for bare fucking feet.

“Who the fuck are you?” he says harshly as they walk up to the car.

The kid blinks owlishly at him, looking startled for a moment but then he narrows his eyes at
Yoongi, his jaw clenching. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I fucking asked you first, kid－”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Jungkook says. “Taehyung. Yoongi. Yoongi. Taehyung.”

“You’re－” the kid starts to say but then stops, looking confused. Then he bows stiffly in Yoongi’s
direction. “Nice to meet you,” he mumbles.

Yoongi doesn’t bow back. Instead, he turns to Jungkook, glaring at him. “What the fuck is going
on? Why is he here?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away, gesturing at Jin to open the back door and then jerking his
head at the kid. “Get in.”

Taehyung gives Yoongi one last dubious look before ducking past him and climbing into the back
seat. Jin waits for Jungkook to follow but he shakes his head at him. “Just give us a minute, Jin.”

Jin closes the door but not before Yoongi catches a glimpse of Taehyung peering out at them, a
doubtful expression on his face.

Once Jin’s disappeared into the front seat of the car, Yoongi turns back to Jungkook. “What the
fuck is going on? Who is that kid?”

“The dove from last night. I won him.”

“What? I thought you said you weren’t going to fucking bid?”

“Well, I changed my mind.” A dark satisfaction passes over Jungkook’s face. “I won him and then
I fucked him last night.”

“Congratulations,” Yoongi says dryly. “That still doesn’t explain why--”

“I signed an exclusivity contract with him.”

For a second, Yoongi is sure that he hasn’t heard Jungkook correctly. “What?”

“I said I signed an exclusivity contract with him. He’s my personal, exclusive escort. All mine for
an entire year.”

There’s a roaring sound in Yoongi’s ears, his pulse hammering in his temples and, in that moment,
he wants to break Jungkook’s face. Push him into oncoming traffic, hurl a brick at his head or
simply beat the shit out of him with his bare fucking hands.

He forces himself to take a deep steadying breath. “I thought,” he says through gritted teeth, “that
the Bird Cage wasn’t doing that type of shit anymore. In fact, I’m pretty sure you yourself shut it
down.”

“Yeah, I did,” Jungkook says casually. “But I’ve decided to make an exception for myself. Funny
what being the leader of the Yong Jegug allows you to do.” He steps closer, lowering his voice to a
lethal whisper. “Are we going to have a problem, Yoongi?”

Yoongi tenses but then Jimin’s face flashes through his mind and he forces himself to step back.
“No,” he grunts. “We’re not going to have a problem.”

“Good. Now I’m sure you gathered plenty of leads last night like you said you were going to so I
bet you’ve got a lot of work to do.” Jungkook opens the back door of the car. “Get Namjoon to
pick you up.” Then he smirks. “You’re not invited on this particular excursion.”

Jungkook climbs in, slamming the door and Yoongi watches as the Lincoln pulls away from the
curb, heading further into the downtown area.

Maybe Jimin is right. Maybe he should hate Jungkook. But even after dealing him a blow like this,
Yoongi doesn’t hate him. Wonders if he even could.
 ***

“These are too tight.” Taehyung fidgets with the waistband of the black trousers he’s currently
trying on, frowning at his reflection in the mirror.

Sitting behind him on one of the fitting area’s plush velvet sofas, Jungkook rolls his eyes. “They’re
not too tight,” he says, “they just fit you properly. And besides,” he continues, smirking at him in
the mirror, “they show off that nice little bubble butt of yours.” His gaze travels to Taehyung’s ass,
lingering there. “Extremely well, I might add.”

Taehyung huffs, swiveling around to take a look for himself. The soft material of the pants hugs his
ass, outlining it in a way that’s nearly obscene. And he feels that he’ll split a seam somewhere if he
even attempts to bend over.

They’re at the Shinsegae department store, an enormous building teeming with high-end luxury
items and designer brands. So far Taehyung has tried on a cashmere sweater from Prada, a few
button down shirts from Hugo Boss, and a red velvet blazer from Alexander McQueen. He’s still
got one of the button downs on, black like the one Jungkook is wearing, and right now he’s stuffed
into the black wool trousers from Tom Ford. And then there were the shoes they had already put
aside－Gucci loafers, Salvatore Ferragamo lace-up brogues, and a pair of black combat boots from
Dior, which Jungkook had added to their pile when he saw the way Taehyung kept eyeing them.
He had also allowed Taehyung to pick out a pair of Gucci sneakers that had particularly delighted
him because they had tigers printed on them.

He had only been vaguely aware of these brands back in his previous life, only knowing them as
something he could never ever dream of buying, let alone wearing. The designer clothes are worlds
away from the ratty thrift store jeans and tee shirts he had worn while working at the coffee shop,
only replacing something when it absolutely needed to be replaced, when his clothes were literally
falling apart.

And now here he is, trying on clothes made of the finest materials, soft and luxurious against his
skin－and he almost feels embarrassed. Ashamed. Like he is just some greedy whore, willing to
sell his body just because some mobster is throwing wads of cash at him and dressing him up in
designer brands like some sort of doll.

But he supposes that’s exactly what he is now. He had agreed to be Jungkook’s whore, that’s why
he’s here.

“Here,” Jungkook says, getting up and going over to the clothing rack where the shop assistant had
put the clothes they had picked out. “Put this on over it.” He hands Taehyung an emerald green
overcoat and Taehyung shrugs it on, adjusting the collar. And he’ll admit that this particular coat
is exquisite, with a print of golden yellow flowers and blue-green leaves. Seeing himself wearing it
he feels completely unrecognizable, like someone has waved a magic wand and turned him into a
prince.

She would have liked it too, he thinks. She had always loved flowers and plants and anything to do
with nature.

He looks down, blinking rapidly, pretending to adjust one of the sleeves so Jungkook won’t see his
face.

“Very nice,” Jungkook says, coming to stand beside him. “Do you like it?”

“Mm hmm.” Taehyung doesn’t look up at him, still fiddling with the sleeve and his fingers latch
onto the price tag. He looks at it and then his head snaps up, gaping at Jungkook through the
mirror’s reflection. “This coat costs fifty million won?”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow at him. “Taehyung, it’s Givenchy. It’s not exactly the cheap stuff
middle-class people buy at the Gap.”

“But－” Taehyung’s eyes dart to the rack of clothes Jungkook has already decided that they’re
buying, the small stack of shoe boxes that hold the designer footwear and a horrifying thought
occurs to him. “Will you be taking this stuff out of my paycheck?”

“What? No,” Jungkook says harshly and for a second he almost sounds offended. “I told you
already, there’s no strings attached, kid. I’m picking out your wardrobe, so I’ll be paying for it.
You can consider it a gift.” He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a pack of cigarettes and
a lighter. “Jeez, what is with you? You just made a hundred grand last night, there’s no need to be
so fucking stingy all the time.” He lights up, inhaling a long drag on the cigarette.

Taehyung would have liked to have pointed out that not everyone had a million fucking dollars to
blow on virgins if he hadn’t been so taken aback by the fact that Jungkook had just lit up a cigarette
in the middle of a high-end department store.

“Um…I don’t think you’re allowed to smoke in here.”

“Other people aren’t,” Jungkook says casually, “but I am.”

“Lucky you,” Taehyung says wryly. “Must be nice not having to be considerate of other people.”

“It sure is, baby doll.”

Taehyung makes a disgusted noise, turning away from him. “God, I’m so glad I put no kissing in
the contract.” He shrugs out of the coat and goes to hang it back up on the clothing rack. “Kissing
you would probably be like licking a fucking ashtray.”

He feels a hand on his elbow and Jungkook turns him around, blowing a cloud of smoke directly
into his face. Taehyung coughs, waving the smoke away.

“Your loss, baby.” There’s a smirk on Jungkook’s face but his black eyes are cold, hard. “I’ve been
told I’m an excellent kisser.”

“By who? The whores you pay to suck your dick?” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’m sure you get
the most honest and sincere feedback from them.”

The hand on his elbow tightens. “I wouldn’t really be getting an attitude about it, Taehyung,”
Jungkook says softly. “You’re one of those whores now, after all.”

Taehyung glares at him but doesn’t say anything. Because what can he say? As much as he hates to
admit it, Jungkook is basically right.

Jungkook considers him for a moment, taking another drag on his cigarette. “You liked it last
night, didn’t you?” he says, exhaling the smoke through the corner of his mouth now so it doesn’t
get into Taehyung’s face. “What I did to you. That’s why you agreed to come with me.”

Taehyung gazes back at him, arranging his face into a placid expression even as a jumble of
different images from the previous night flickers through his brain. “Do you want an honest
answer? Or do you just want me to tell you what you want to hear?”
Something ferocious passes over Jungkook’s face, a look that immediately brings to Taehyung’s
mind the image of a lethal black panther, wild and powerful, and a small current of fear runs
through him. Fear mixed with something else.

He’s dangerous.

“Mr. Jeon?”

They both turn to see Rose, the shop assistant who had been attending to them, trot up to them on
her five inch heels, holding a silky purple garment in her perfectly manicured hands. “The robe you
requested for him.”

“Thank you, my darling,” Jungkook purrs, going to take it from her and she blushes slightly,
granting him a pearly white smile. Taehyung feels a buzz of irritation. Doesn’t she know the kind
of man Jungkook actually is? Or maybe she just sees the mask he shows to the public, the one that
hides how controlling and vicious he is in reality.

Jungkook hands the robe to Taehyung and, taking this as his cue, slips the robe on over the clothes
he’s already wearing. It’s a rich, deep plum colour, the silk cool and smooth against his fingers as
he adjusts the lapels.

Jungkook studies him, nodding in approval. “I knew that would be your colour,” he says smugly.
“Although,” he adds, “that’s not the kind of outfit I envisioned you wearing underneath it. Which
reminds me…” He turns to Rose. “I think we’ll finish up with some lingerie. You see, he’s got a
great ass,” he says, gesturing at Taehyung’s butt, “so I’m thinking we’ll need some silk thongs, the
ones from Agent Provocateur…”

Taehyung feels his face flame. This is Jungkook’s punishment, he realizes, for mouthing off to him
just a few seconds ago. To stand there and talk with Rose about his body like it’s some sort of
object, talk about him like he’s not even there.

“And, you know those little lace panties?” Jungkook continues, seemingly oblivious to Taehyung
glaring at him through the mirror. “The ones that leave a bit of asscheek exposed? He’ll look good
in those too so I’m thinking we’ll need a pair in every colour you have.”

“Of course, Mr. Jeon,” Rose says, dipping into an elegant bow. “Will there by anything else?”

“Yeah, we’ll need some thigh highs, too.” He glances over at Taehyung, smirking at him. “Lots of
those. In black.”

Rose bows again and then struts away, her stilettos clicking on the polished floor.

“Hmm,” Jungkook says, watching her leave. “Maybe we should get some of those for you too…”

“What about comfortable clothes?” Taehyung says testily. “I want comfortable clothes too.”

Jungkook turns back around, frowning at him. “What do you mean, comfortable clothes? The ones
you tried on are comfortable, aren’t they? They fit you properly.”

“No, I mean－” Taehyung heaves a frustrated sigh. “I mean, like sweatpants and tee shirts and
stuff. All those other clothes are too dressy for every day.”

Jungkook scowls at him, taking another puff on his still-smoldering cigarette. “No. I don’t want
you wearing fucking sweatpants and oversized sweaters looking like some fucking slob.” He rakes
his gaze over Taehyung. “I’m paying too much fucking money for you to cover up your body with
that kind of shit.”

Taehyung gapes at him. “I’m not fucking prancing around in lingerie all day when you’re not
around!”

“You will if I want you to.”

“No, actually, I don’t think I fucking will!”

“Taehyung,” Jungkook growls, “I’m the one paying for your wardrobe, so I get to decide what you
wear. Would you like to read over the contract again?”

“I thought that would only be if you took me out somewhere! Or if you wanted to, um, you
know…” Jungkook’s lips quirk up but Taehyung presses on. “I should be able to get to decide
what I want to wear on my own fucking time!”

“What are you going to do, file a fucking complaint against me with Employment Standards?”
Jungkook stubs out his cigarette against the mirror, dropping it on the ground. “You can fucking
bitch about it all you want, princess, but I’m not buying you a fucking pair of sweatpants.”

“Fine,” Taehyung says, ripping the robe off and throwing it over the clothing rack. “I’ll just buy
my own pair with my own money.”

“Like hell you will,” Jungkook snaps. “It’s still my money and you are not spending a fucking cent
of it without my approval.”

“What?” Taehyung explodes. “Are you seriously trying to bully me over a pair of fucking
sweatpants right now, you pathetic, egotistical－”

“Go get fucking changed,” Jungkook demands, pointing a finger at the changing room. “Now.
We’re done here.”

He starts to walk away and that’s when Taehyung snaps. “Well, maybe I’ll just take a page out of
your book and smuggle some in then.”

Jungkook stills and then slowly turns back to face Taehyung, his eyes glittering with menace.
“What the fuck did you just say?”

“Well, that’s what you do, isn’t it?” Taehyung says scornfully. “What is it? Guns? Drugs? Fucking
porno mags?” He narrows his eyes, hands clenched into fists. “Do these people here know who
you really are, you son of a bitch? Jeon Jungkook leader of the fucking Yong Jegug－”

Jungkook seizes his wrist and pulls him into the changing room, slamming the door behind them
and backing Taehyung up against the mirror. “Don’t you ever,” he hisses, pointing a finger in
Taehyung’s face, “run your fucking mouth like that in a public place again, you little whore. I don’t
know where you got that information from and, right now you’re lucky I don’t fucking care, but
being reckless like that can get you fucking killed.”

“Who’s going to kill me? You?” Taehyung fires back. “Just how many people have you killed,
Jungkook, I’m dying to know. Or do you get other people to do your dirty work since you seem to
be so busy getting your dick wet－”

“God, that’s it.” Jungkook spins him around, pressing Taehyung up against the mirror with his
body, grabbing his wrists and pinning them over his head with one hand while he brings the other
one down on Taehyung’s ass, giving it a sharp smack.
“That was pathetic,” Taehyung taunts. “What are you trying to do, swat a mosquito? If you’re
going to hit me, be a fucking man about it and hit me!”

Jungkook snarls at him, bringing his hand up again, this time spanking Taehyung’s ass with such
force that it sounds like the crack of a whip and Taehyung actually jolts from the impact, a startled
groan escaping him as he feels a tingling in his groin. And from the expression on Jungkook’s face,
he knows that he heard it.

“This another kink of yours, baby?” he rasps in Taehyung’s ear, smacking him again. “You want
me to punish you when you’re being naughty? Is that why you try to get me all riled up, you’re so
desperate for my attention?”

“F-fuck you,” Taehyung stammers. But the tingling sensation is intensifying and if he doesn’t fight
it, his arousal is going to become all too apparent in the too-tight pants that he’s wearing.

“Such a little slut, huh?” Jungkook says, his eyes boring into Taehyung’s through the reflection of
the mirror. “You spend one night being my little fuck toy and now you can’t get enough of my
dick, is that it?”

Taehyung shakes his head, biting down on a whimper as Jungkook reaches his hand around,
cupping him through his pants. He tries to squirm away but Jungkook is still holding his wrists
above his head and all he manages to do is press back against him.

“Such a needy little whore, aren’t you?” Jungkook mocks. “You don’t have to play games with me,
baby doll, if you want my cock you can just ask for it…”

Taehyung shakes his head, squeezing his thighs together. It’s just the fear, the adrenaline that is
making him react this way, that is causing his body to respond to Jungkook’s touch. Just like last
night when Jungkook fucked him, causing waves of ecstasy to crash over him.

Fight it. Fight it!

All he wants is Jungkook’s money, he reminds himself. Just his money and nothing else from him.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Jungkook whispers, rubbing his erection against Taehyung’s ass.
“You’re going to get on your knees for me and suck my cock so you can learn when and where it’s
appropriate to open your mouth. And then I’m going to fuck you, right here in this dressing room.
I’m going to fuck you so hard this entire fucking department store will know what a little slut you
are, Taehyung. Sound good to you?”

Taehyung glares at him through the reflection of the mirror, forcing himself to hold Jungkook’s
cold, black stare, refusing to look away. If Jungkook wants to use his body, fine. But he’s not going
to allow himself to be cowed by some short-tempered crime boss who tries to throw his weight
around by having a temper tantrum.

“You can try and fuck me into submission all you want,” Taehyung grits out. “But I still want a
pair of fucking sweatpants.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenches and his hand tightens on Taehyung’s wrists－but then he steps back,
releasing him.

“Fine!” he spits out. “We’ll get you some fucking loungewear, I really don’t give a fuck as long as
you don’t wear it in front of me. But I still have to approve everything.”

“Fine!”
“Fine!” Jungkook slams out of the dressing room while Taehyung exhales a long, shaky breath and
changes into his clothes from this morning, his heart thudding in his chest.

Jungkook allows him to pick out a couple of pairs of soft, cozy sweatpants, a few sweatshirts, and
some oversized tees. All designer labels, of course, and all hideously expensive for clothes that are
meant to be worn around the house. For a second, Taehyung wonders if Jungkook will make him
pay for the loungewear himself, but he just adds it to the pile of clothes that he’s already buying for
him. However, he does draw the line at a pair of flannel pajamas that Taehyung wants to buy.

“Why can’t I have these?”

“You don’t need pajamas,” Jungkook replies. “Because you’ll be sleeping in my bed with me and
you’ll be sleeping naked.”

“Er…why naked?” Taehyung asks, although he’s got a pretty good guess what the answer will be.

Jungkook smirks at him. “Easy access.”

***

Jungkook stares out at the flickering lights of Seoul from the enormous window of his penthouse
while he waits for his staff to finish setting the dinner table behind him. Taehyung’s still in his
bedroom, putting all of his new clothes away, getting himself settled in.

It had been a surreal moment, watching Taehyung step over the threshold and into his place,
clutching his bag to his chest and looking around with wide eyes as Jungkook showed him around
the living area with the leather sofa and the plasma screen TV, the enormous kitchen with the
latest, high-tech appliances (not that Jungkook ever used them), briefly pointing out the doors to
his office and a room that didn’t serve any purpose except to hold some boxes of files and other
shit he didn’t have any place for before leading Taehyung to his master bedroom.

“I believe this is where we’ll be spending the majority of our time together,” he said, ushering
Taehyung into the room.

Taehyung had stopped, gaping at Jungkook’s king size bed. “Why is your bed so fucking big?”

“Hmm…disappointed?” Jungkook said, coming up to stand behind Taehyung, placing his hands on
his waist. “Were you hoping for something a bit cozier?”

“No,” Taehyung said stubbornly. “It just…seems really big for one person, that’s all.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing you’re here to help take up some of that extra space, hmm?”
Jungkook nuzzled against Taehyung’s neck, nipping at his soft skin, feeling a hot rush of arousal at
Taehyung’s quiet gasp.

He spun Taehyung around, backing him up until his legs hit the edge of the bed, where we fell
back onto it with a soft ‘oof,’ Jungkook crawling on top of him, caging him in.

“I think I’m in need of your services, baby doll,” he said, taking one of Taehyung’s hands and
placing it against his crotch. “And I think I still need to punish you for being such a bad boy
earlier.”
Taehyung blinked up at him but then glanced down to where his hand was and started to rub
Jungkook through his trousers, his expression blank, wooden. As if he were touching nothing more
exciting than a TV remote or a cucumber.

“Really going to need you to put more effort in, Taehyung.”

Taehyung’s eyes snapped back to his, glaring at him. “I—”

But then his stomach rumbled and he closed his mouth, looking slightly embarrassed.

Jungkook sighed and sat back on his heels. “You hungry?”

Taehyung hesitated but then nodded, biting his lip. Jungkook had allowed Jin to take Taehyung to
one of the restaurants at the Shinsegae while he had started picking out Taehyung’s outfits with
Rose but that had been hours ago.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I’m hungry too, anyways.” He got off the bed and headed for the door. “You
can put your clothes away while I get something made for us. And make sure you do it neatly.”

He had called his personal chef who lived a few floors below, requesting him to provide a simple
meal of filet mignon and Caesar salad, along with some rice and sauteed vegetables.

"Oh, and send up a bottle of that Merlot, will you? The one from Tuscany.”

A plan had started to formulate in his head, to ply Taehyung with a little wine, get him loosened up
a little so he would be more receptive to Jungkook’s advances. Not that he had a choice, Taehyung
was bought and paid for already, but Jungkook still wanted to break down the remnants of
Taehyung’s stubborn resistance to him, get him to admit that he wanted Jungkook for himself, not
just for his money. Because he had heard that little sound Taehyung had made in the dressing room
earlier, felt the way his body responded to his hands, as much as the kid had tried to hide it.
Taehyung was such a little slut for his dick already. Jungkook just needed to get him to admit it and
they could spend a very pleasant year together, fucking all over his penthouse, and he could just
use Taehyung’s body as a distraction from the constant chaos that resided in his mind.

He was sure that all it would take would be a few glasses of wine to have Taehyung begging for
his dick and then he could lay him out on his dining table, make a meal out of him or fuck him
right up against the window so all of Seoul would know what an obedient little whore Taehyung
was.

“Will that be all, Mr. Jeon?”

Jungkook comes out of his fantasy of fucking Taehyung up against the glass he’s currently looking
through and turns around, nodding at Jisoo, the woman who is in charge of his staff.

“Yes, thank you, you can take off for the night.”

She and the other servers dip into low bows and murmur their farewells before filing out the door,
closing it behind them. Namjoon is stationed outside the penthouse door, taking Jin’s place for the
night but, other than that, it’s just him and Taehyung right now.

Who has still not come out from his bedroom so Jungkook takes his seat at the head of the table
and decides to wait for him. His patience lasts all of five seconds before he heaves a frustrated sigh
and twists around in his chair, calling towards the bedroom.

“Taehyung!”
“What?”

“Get your ass in here, food’s getting cold!”

There’s silence for a few seconds and Jungkook seriously considers getting up and dragging
Taehyung out from the bedroom when he appears, padding into the dining area on bare feet,
wearing the same oversized button down and loose black pants from this morning.

Jungkook’s mouth twists in distaste. He should really make Taehyung take all of his clothes off,
make him eat his dinner naked, put him in his place. But then again, there is something alluring
about seeing Taehyung in his oversized clothes, making him look even smaller and vulnerable than
he already is. So he’ll let it slide. For now.

Taehyung stares at the food laid out on the table, gnawing at his lip. “Oh.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, what now?”

“I just－” Taehyung looks down, his fingers plucking nervously at the hem of his shirt. “I just
didn’t realize we’d be sharing meals together,” he mumbles. “I didn’t think that would be one of
my ‘services.’”

“Taehyung,” Jungkook says, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice, “you are my personal
escort and right now I am requesting the pleasure of your company while I eat. So sit. The fuck.
Down.”

Taehyung still doesn’t move and Jungkook sighs. “You know I’d be very happy to put something
else in your mouth while I eat if you don’t want any food.”

Taehyung gives him a reproachful look but pulls out a chair and drops down into it, his shoulders
hunched.

Spoiled fucking brat.

Jungkook silently doles out food on both of their plates, making sure Taehyung has a bit of
everything but when he goes to pour him some wine, Taehyung stops him, putting his hand over
the glass.

“Oh, um, none for me, thanks.”

Jungkook stares at him. “This wine costs over 300,000 won, Taehyung.”

Taehyung raises an eyebrow at him. “So? I don’t care if it costs three million won, it’ll still taste
like wine so it’ll still taste gross. I don’t want any.”

“For fuck’s sake, is everything going to be a fucking fight with you?” Jungkook slams the bottle
down on the table, causing Taehyung to jump. “Here I am, buying you nice clothes, providing you
with a good meal and all you can do is fucking bitch about everything.” He saws off a piece of filet
mignon, shoving it into his mouth. “When we go out, don’t think for a fucking second that I’ll
allow you to have a fucking sippy cup of juice or something. You’re not going to embarrass me
like that, you’re going to drink whatever I tell you to drink.”

“Fine,” Taehyung shrugs. “But if we’re just eating here by ourselves, I’ll stick with water if it’s all
the same to you.”

They continue to eat in stony silence, the scrape of the cutlery against the plates and their
occasional sips of water and wine being the only sounds. Taehyung keeps his head down, eating
everything in front of him with quick, dainty bites. He finishes all of his food while Jungkook is
still only halfway done, eyeing the rest of the dishes with a hesitant sort of hunger.

“You can have more,” Jungkook says shortly. “You don’t need my fucking permission.”

Taehyung takes second helpings of everything, wolfing it down as fast as he can move the fork
from his plate to his mouth, his lower lip puffed out in a slight pout as he chews.

Jungkook watches him out of the corner of his eye, wondering how the fuck he ended up with a
whore as unsophisticated as Kim Taehyung. And he can’t even get the kid drunk if he refuses the
wine offered to him, won’t be able to seduce his way past his lowered defenses, won’t be able to
steal a drunken kiss or two that Taehyung won’t remember giving the next morning.

Whatever. He’s still allowed to fuck him, drunk or not.

Taehyung continues to ignore him as he eats and Jungkook wonders if he’s this rude with everyone
else when he’s eating or if it’s just with him. Which then leads him to wonder where exactly this
kid came from. Hobi hadn’t provided a ton of details, only saying that he had found Taehyung at a
coffee shop and the kid seemed to be estranged from his family and had no friends to speak of. So
he was probably a runaway, his parents kicking him out of the house once they found out
Taehyung was gay and would prefer to suck cock than eat pussy. The kid had probably been biding
his time at the coffee shop, waiting for a sugar daddy to come along and provide him with the kind
of lifestyle he had always craved but didn’t have because his parents were too middle-class. They
were probably glad to be rid of Taehyung and his shitty attitude.

But…maybe that theory wasn’t entirely accurate. Taehyung had mentioned wanting to go to school
last night and today at the department store, he had seemed almost uncomfortable with the amount
of money Jungkook was spending on clothes for him. Then again, it could have just been the
sticker shock.

He’s a bit of an enigma, this kid. He’ll be a tough nut to crack but Jungkook feels like he’s up for
the challenge. And, besides, maybe the key to getting Taehyung to yield to him is to pretend to be
interested in his personality, his background.

“So,” he says casually, taking a sip of wine, “have you always lived in Seoul or－”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and drops his knife and fork down onto his plate with a clatter. “What the
fuck is this?”

Jungkook feels his jaw clench. “What do you mean what the fuck is this, what are you－”

“I mean this,” Taehyung says gesturing to the table. “Making me eat dinner with you, trying to
have a conversation with me.” He sits back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “God, it’s
like you’re trying to…woo me or something.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, all I did was ask you a simple fucking question－”

“Well, don’t!” Taehyung says, his voice rising. “Don’t fucking ask me questions and pretend to
want to get to know me and all that other bullshit! What do you think is going to happen here,
Jungkook? Do you think I’m going to fall in love with you or something?”

“Taehyung,” Jungkook says quietly. “Shut up. I mean it. Just shut up and eat your food.”

But Taehyung goes on, heedless of the warning in Jungkook’s voice. “I can pretend, if that’s what
you want. It’ll cost you extra, though,” he says, his tone mocking. “Would you like me to greet
you at the door every night with a pair of slippers and a kiss on the cheek? Is there a pet name you
would prefer I call you? Like ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling?’”

“Stop. Talking.”

“You want to introduce me to your mommy and daddy as your boyf－”

“I said shut the fuck UP!”

With a violent sweep of his arm, Jungkook sends the plates and dishes crashing onto the floor,
upending the bottle of wine so it rolls across the table, gushing ruby liquid onto the polished
surface. He yanks Taehyung up by the arm and shoves him forward, bending him over the table.
Leaning over him, he grasps a handful of Taehyung’s hair, pulling his head back, snarling into his
ear.

“This is all I want from you,” he growls, squeezing Taehyung’s ass. “Not love, not a fucking
boyfriend, just a tight little ass to fuck whenever I want to. Is that understood?”

Taehyung nods, his eyes squeezed shut, hands curled into fists on top of the table.

“What have I told you about using your fucking words?”

Taehyung sucks in a breath, exhaling shakily. He opens his eyes, glaring back at Jungkook. “I
understand,” he grits out.

“Good.” Jungkook shoves Taehyung’s pants down just enough to expose his ass, giving it a hard
smack. “Now that we’ve established exactly what I hired you for, let’s put you to work, hmm?” He
rears back, roughly spreading Taehyung’s cheeks apart, hawking a glob of spit onto his hole,
smearing it around with his thumb.

Taehyung flinches but doesn’t struggle or try to get away, even as Jungkook undoes his fly to pull
out his stiffening cock, rubbing it against Taehyung’s ass, thrusting it between his cheeks.

“Are you my whore, Taehyung?” Jungkook rasps as he lines himself up and begins to push inside
Taehyung’s hole. “Are you nothing but my little slut?”

“Yes,” Taehyung says dully. “I’m your whore.” He hisses as Jungkook slowly sinks inside of him,
groaning as Jungkook begins to languidly thrust in and out of him, forcing Taehyung to feel every
single inch.

Jungkook leans over again, pressing his chest against Taehyung’s back as he fucks into him,
keeping a tight grip on his hair. “Does this feel like love to you, Taehyung?” he taunts. “Does this
feel like I’m trying to win you over?”

“No,” Taehyung snaps. “It feels like I’m being fucked by someone who gets off on being a
controlling piece of shit.”

Jungkook claps a hand over Taehyung’s mouth. “I’ve had just about enough of your smart ass
mouth, baby doll,” he whispers harshly. “You’ll know when I want you to open it for me.”

Jungkook starts to increase the pace of his thrusts, hips snapping against Taehyung’s ass,
Taehyung's moans muffled against his hand. “I’m not going to let you come this time,” Jungkook
growls in his ear. “You know why? Because you need to learn that when I fuck you, it’s so I can
get off. Not you. Because you don’t matter.”
He comes less than thirty seconds later, spilling inside of Taehyung with a grunt of satisfaction.

“Fuck…” Jungkook stays on top of Taehyung for a few more seconds, allowing himself to catch
his breath and Taehyung mumbles something against his hand.

Jungkook takes his hand away, smirking down at him. “What was that, sweetheart?”

“I said I fucking hate you!” Taehyung pushes Jungkook off of him, straightening up and backing
away from him, pulling his pants back up. “God, I take back what I said earlier, I couldn’t even
pretend to be in love with a prick like you. I don’t think anybody could!”

He turns to leave but Jungkook grabs a hold of Taehyung’s wrist, pulling him back. “Now you
listen to me, you little whore,” he says through gritted teeth. “I don’t need you to love me. And you
can hate me all you want because I don’t give a shit. You are a convenient fucking hole for me to
stick my dick in and that’s all you’ll ever be!”

“Let go－”

Jungkook releases Taehyung at the exact same moment that Taehyung pushes against his chest,
overbalancing and falling to the floor with a loud thump that seems to reverberate throughout
Jungkook’s entire body.

No.

Taehyung blinks up at him, a look of startled hurt flashing across his face, tears welling in his wide
brown eyes.

No. I didn’t.

For a moment that feels like an eternity, all Jungkook can do is just stand there and stare down at
Taehyung, completely paralyzed. Then he steps forward, not knowing if he intends to help
Taehyung to his feet or do something much worse than what he’s already done.

“No!” Taehyung scrambles to his feet, backing away from him. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

With a strangled sob, he turns to head back to the bedroom but Jungkook calls after him.

“Taehyung.”

He turns around, eyeing Jungkook warily, his handsome face guarded even as tears glimmer along
his lashes.

I’m sorry.

“I wouldn’t think about leaving if I were you,” he says softly. “Because if you do, I will find you.
And you will not like it when I do.”

“I’m just going to go take a shower,” Taehyung snaps. “I feel disgusting.”

He marches towards the bedroom and Jungkook watches him go, an empty hollowness in his chest,
the echo of Taehyung’s body falling to the floor still ringing in his ears.

***
Taehyung rushes into the en suite bathroom, ripping his clothes off, and turning the shower on,
stepping into an icy spray before he figures out the various taps and finally manages to get hot
water. He turns it as hot as he can stand it, wanting the water to scald him, to get rid of the feeling
of that monster’s hands on his body.

Breathe…just breathe…

But his breathing is coming in short little jerks as if he can’t get enough air into his lungs, no
matter how much he inhales. Tears mix with the burning hot water flowing over his face and
Taehyung feels like he might throw up when he feels Jungkook’s cum leak out of him, dripping
down his thighs.

He needs to leave. He needs to get away from that fucking psychopath.

I wouldn’t think about leaving if I were you. Because if you do, I will find you. And you will not like
it when I do.

Taehyung lets out a dry sob. If he leaves, Jungkook will come after him and he’ll end up at the
bottom of the Han river or dead in a ditch somewhere. Jimin had told him to talk to Yoongi if he
was in trouble but the man hadn’t seemed like the helpful type when Taehyung had met him this
morning. If anything, he seemed almost as bad as Jungkook. How could Jimin be friends with
someone like that? Maybe Jimin had meant another Min Yoongi…

He forces himself to take a deep breath to try to calm himself, to try to slow the racing of his heart,
his mind. It’s just for a year. Just one fucking year of letting Jungkook do whatever the fuck he
wanted to his body and then he’d have his money and he’d be free.

No, it’s not worth it. No amount of money is worth being used like this.

But, even if he did leave with the hundred thousand he had already made, who’s to say they
wouldn’t find him? He’d always be constantly looking over his shoulder, paranoid and afraid, even
if he relocated to the other side of the world. These criminal types, they had eyes everywhere, ways
to find people. And they probably also had ways of hacking his bank account, siphoning up his
money until it was all gone and he had nothing.

Just for one year. Just one year of meaningless, emotionless sex. I can tough it out, I’ve been
through worse. I’ve been through so much worse than this.

And he’s not completely alone. Jin had been kind to him so far, buying him some bulgogi at the
Shinsegae earlier, making polite yet distant conversation with him about the art that hung on the
restaurant’s walls. Maybe he could get Jin onto his side, make an ally out of him, someone he
could turn to if he was ever in need of help. And maybe there were other men who worked for
Jungkook who he could persuade to help him in some way or another. Maybe the leader of the
Yong Jegug had a few gruff-on-the-outside, soft-on-the-inside types working for him, like Hobi
had Bo at the Bird Cage.

Taehyung lifts his head up, straightening his shoulders. He is not going to allow some pathetic
bully like Jungkook scare him. If all Jungkook wants is his body, fine. All Taehyung wants from
Jungkook is his money so it’s the ideal arrangement. He’ll keep his heart tucked away where that
monster can’t get to it.

It’s something he’s been doing for years anyway. So he’s used to it.
 But her face flashes through his mind and he’s overcome by a fresh wave of sobs and he leans his
forehead against the shower tiles, letting the tears come. Just for tonight, he’ll let himself be weak.
Just for tonight, he’ll allow himself to cry over things he wished had never happened, over things
he can’t change now.

When he finally makes himself get out of the shower and tentatively pokes his head out the door,
Jungkook is gone.

Chapter End Notes

Playlist

Twitter

Okay, things got pretty rough between them in this chapter but keep in mind this is
only the beginning of the story...next chapter coming to ya next week

Comments and kudos are always appreciated <3

 Chapter 3
Chapter Summary

Jungkook and Taehyung establish a routine...

Chapter Notes

Not really any trigger warnings for this chapter: just the usual degradation, Taehyung
being sassy and Jungkook being a huge dick.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Whore.”

Taehyung’s fists curl into the sheets of the bed as Jungkook pounds into him from behind.

“Fucking slut.”

He tries to make as little noise as possible but he can’t stop the moans that tumble out of his mouth
when Jungkook starts jackhammering against his prostate.

“Still hate me, huh? Bet you love this fucking cock, though.”

Jungkook’s hands dig into his hips, pulling him back onto his cock as he thrusts forward at the
same time and Taehyung’s breath catches in his throat at the sensation. It overwhelms him, undoes
him, every single time. And that’s exactly why Jungkook does it.

“Fuck, come on, you little whore, tighten your little hole around my dick. Tighten it.”

Taehyung comes, crying out as his orgasm smashes into him in huge shuddering waves, causing
him to automatically clench around Jungkook’s cock.

“Fuck.” Jungkook pulls out and Taehyung feels the warm spatter of his cum rain down on his ass,
his lower back. They both pause, their breathing ragged and harsh in the darkened bedroom. Then
Jungkook gives him a perfunctory smack on the ass like he always does and gets up and heads into
the bathroom.

Taehyung waits, listening carefully for Jungkook to turn on either the sink or the shower. When he
hears the shower, he sighs and stretches out on his stomach, resigned to wait for his turn. When
Jungkook only turns on the sink, it means that he’s just washing his hands and freshening up before
going out again. But when Jungkook turns on the shower, it means he’s getting ready to go to bed
and Taehyung has to wait a good ten or fifteen minutes before he can take his own shower and rid
himself of the feeling of Jungkook’s hands on his skin, the stain of his cum.

There’s no way in hell that he’s going to shower with Jungkook and so far, Jungkook hasn’t asked
him to.
Taehyung has been Jungkook’s escort for one entire week and they’ve already established a routine
of sorts. Jungkook texts him every evening on the phone he had provided for Taehyung, telling
him when he’s going to be returning to the penthouse and how he wants Taehyung to wait for him,
what he wants him to wear.

9:30. Red silk thong. Black thigh highs. Ass up on bed.

11:00. Pink lace panties. Black thigh highs. Kneeling on floor in front of bed.

The messages are short, businesslike. Taehyung just sends back a peach emoji to confirm that he
received the text (Jungkook’s idea, not his) and then calculates how much time he’s got until he
needs to get the plug out and prepare himself. To his utter mortification and embarrassment,
Jungkook had presented him with a butt plug the day after their disastrous dinner together and told
him that he was to use it to stretch himself open beforehand so he would be ‘ready to go’ by the
time Jungkook got home. So fifteen minutes before Jungkook is due to arrive, Taehyung changes
out of his sweatpants and tee shirt into whatever lingerie Jungkook has dictated he wear that
particular night, lubes up the plug and inserts it inside himself. Then, to complete his humiliation,
he waits on the bed, prostrate on all fours, sticking his ass up in the air like a cat in heat. Well,
usually he cheats a little bit and just lies on his stomach, playing Candy Crush on his phone until he
hears the penthouse door open and then quickly shuts it down and scrambles into position. Then
Jungkook comes in, takes the plug out, and fucks him. Always from behind, always remaining
fully clothed, and always lasting about ten minutes or so. Taehyung absolutely hates that it takes
Jungkook so long to come.

Taehyung never greets Jungkook when he comes into the bedroom, never says a single word while
Jungkook’s dick is inside of him, never allowing himself to say ‘ah, fuck,’ or ‘yes,’ or ‘fuck,
Jungkook, right fucking there, feels so fucking good…’ Jungkook wants a convenient fucking hole
and that’s exactly what Jungkook gets. He will never, in a million years, give that asshole the
slightest hint that the sex feels good for him too, that he secretly feels a shiver of anticipation when
he hears Jungkook come into the bedroom, that his cock stiffens of its own accord when Jungkook
thrusts inside him. It’s harder to disguise the fact that he comes every time Jungkook fucks him but
that doesn’t mean anything. It’s just his body reacting naturally to the stimulation of something
pressing against his prostate, it has nothing to do with Jungkook himself. Jungkook’s cock might as
well be a dildo or a vibrator for all the difference it would make. But then again, a dildo wouldn’t
have those rough hands to grip his hips or smack his ass with, leaving behind that shockingly
pleasurable sting. And Taehyung’s pretty sure the fastest vibrator on the planet couldn’t match the
speed of Jungkook’s thrusts, would never be able to move against that spot inside of him the way
Jungkook does, until he’s unable to hold back the noises any longer, and he’s nearly sobbing with
ecstasy, coming his brains out.

And, in a weird, twisted way, Taehyung suspects that Jungkook is making sure that he comes,
despite what he had said that first night. Because Jungkook only ever finishes once Taehyung has
reached his climax, never beforehand. But it’s probably only because he wants to feel Taehyung’s
hole clenching around his dick and because he wants to exert even more control over him. It’s
certainly not because he cares about Taehyung’s own pleasure.

Jungkook comes out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, and Taehyung does not
steal a glance at his sculpted chest as he gets up from the bed, scooping up the butt plug and
hurrying into the bathroom. He washes the plug in the sink before he showers, another one of his
‘duties.’ Jungkook’s certainly not going to do it.

He’s given the butt plug the affectionate nickname of ‘Pluggy,’ his own sarcastic way of trying to
make the whole thing more bearable.
Good old Pluggy, he thinks as he scrubs it with soap and water, good old Pluggy, plugging up my
butthole so Mr. Jeon Fucking Jungkook doesn’t have to fuck around fingering me open. Like he did
the first night…

Whatever. The less time spent in bed with Jungkook the better.

He rinses Pluggy and sets him on the countertop to dry before finally peeling off the panties and
stockings he had been wearing, leaving them in a pile on the floor and stepping into the soothing
warm spray of the shower. It’s the best part of his night, as far as he’s concerned.

Taehyung takes his time soaping himself up, wanting to draw out his shower as long as possible so
that Jungkook will be asleep by the time he gets out. Still, he muses as he pushes his wet hair off
his face, it’s not really so bad for a night’s work. Between the prep work, the actual fucking, and
Jungkook’s climax, it all takes about, what, half an hour? Maybe forty-five minutes if he includes
showering and cleaning up afterwards? So little work for so much money. Plus, he gets an orgasm
out of it so maybe that can be considered a perk. Things could definitely be a lot worse.

They could be a lot better too.

He sighs. No use complaining about it or wishing things were different. As much as he might hate
Jungkook, he certainly doesn’t hate his money. And he’s already paid Taehyung for the week, five
thousand dollars being deposited into his bank account only just this morning. He’s still not used to
seeing such an exorbitant amount next to his name and so far, he hasn’t spent anything or even
gone out anywhere.

Even though Jungkook told him he could go where he wanted as long as he had a guard with him,
Taehyung spent his first week as Jungkook’s personal escort holed up in his penthouse, watching
Netflix on Jungkook’s enormous TV, catching up on shows he had only heard about from some of
his co-workers at the coffee shop but never been able to watch. Romantic dramas like Boys Over
Flowers, I Am Not a Robot, and What’s Wrong with Secretary Kim? But he found them all so sappy
and naive, he could only bring himself to hate-watch a couple of episodes each before switching to
anime, which he infinitely preferred. Especially darker shows like Death Note and Attack on Titan,
shows that were cynical and violent. They seemed somehow more realistic to him, more in touch
with what human nature was really like, even though they were cartoons.

When he wasn’t watching TV, he had been playing with the new smartphone Jungkook had given
him, one of the latest iPhone models. In his previous life, he had inherited an ancient Nokia flip
phone from his mother that barely worked and only had games like Snake and Tetris on it, a piece
of technology so out of touch that it may as well have been a rotary phone. It was something his
co-workers at the coffee shop never failed to make fun of him for.

But now, with this new iPhone, an entire universe was accessible to him with just the tap of his
finger. Games that flashed across the screen in vivid, high-definition color instead of sluggish black
pixels; apps that could show him where the nearest coffee shops and restaurants were and allow
him to access almost every single song ever recorded in music history. He avoided the social media
apps though, because Jungkook had forbidden him to go on them and share any details of his or
Jungkook’s life on Twitter or Facebook. Not like Taehyung would want to. He much preferred
YouTube anyways, which was allowed as long as he didn’t make any videos. And he wasn’t
inclined to do that either. What did Jungkook think he was going to do, vlog about his daily
routine? (Hey, guys, welcome to my channel! Today I’m doing a ‘let’s-get-ready-with-me’ while I
wait for the sadistic crime boss who’s paying me for sex to come home and fuck me in the ass!
Keep an eye out for a special guest appearance by Pluggy the Butt Plug!)

No, if he was on YouTube, he mostly watched vine compilations which were really weird and
bizarre but made him laugh for some reason; or cooking videos which were weirdly addicting and
always made him hungry; or nature documentaries about tigers or snakes or crocodiles. But the
most mesmerizing videos to him were the art videos－people doing things like acrylic pours, and
follow-along painting tutorials, and the most realistic pencil sketches he had ever seen in his life.
He even watched a few watercolour painting tutorials before his vision blurred and he had to switch
over to watching something else that didn’t dredge up so many memories.

It was a dangerous, wonderful thing, that phone. Taehyung could waste an entire day playing on it,
once being startled to find that he had dedicated almost an entire afternoon to playing Candy Crush.
With not having to worry about his basic survival anymore, Taehyung was finding it all too easy to
slip into a sort of numb lethargy, where all he did was laze on the sofa all day and eat.

Food had been something that had confused him that first day when he woke up in the penthouse
alone and went hunting for something to eat in the kitchen－only to find the cupboards completely
bare of any sort of food. There was a shelf full of different kinds of alcohol, a jug of water in the
fridge and that was about it. For a few minutes, he had almost been on the verge of a panic attack,
thinking Jungkook meant to slowly starve him to death. Or maybe he had decided that, after last
night, he wasn’t going to bother providing meals for Taehyung and he would have to buy them
himself. Hesitantly, he had ventured out to where Jin was standing guard outside the penthouse
door to ask him.

“Uh, hey, Jin? Anything to eat around here or…”

“Oh,” Jin said, looking surprised. “Yeah, you can just call down to Jungkook’s personal chef and
he’ll make something for you.”

“Personal chef…?”

“Yeah,” Jin said, frowning at him. “Did he not tell you that?”

“No…”

For a second, Jin’s lips twisted into a slight grimace and Taehyung could have sworn he almost
rolled his eyes－but then he gave Taehyung a polite smile and pulled out his cell phone. “I can call
him for you, if you want. What do you feel like?”

“Um…what are my options?”

Jin gave him a puzzled look. “Well, pretty much anything you want. Within reason, of course, but
usually if you request something, he’ll be able to make it for you.”

Taehyung just stared at him. Anything he wanted. He had been living off packages of ramen and
the occasional Lotteria meal for years on end and Jeon Jungkook had a personal fucking chef to
make him anything he wanted, to make him expensive meals that ultimately ended up all over the
floor because Mr. Mob Boss had a short fuse and couldn’t control his fucking temper. Taehyung
had had nice meals brought to him at the Bird Cage but they had been chosen for him beforehand,
he hadn’t really had a say in what he ate aside from raiding the snack cupboard with Jimin. Now
Jin was telling him he basically had unlimited options? How the hell was he supposed to choose
something?

Seeming to sense his dilemma, Jin leaned toward him and said in a conspiratorial whisper, “He
makes really good waffles. With homemade syrup and everything.”

“Oh, um, okay. I’ll have some of those. Please.”

Forty-five minutes later, Taehyung was seated at the dining table, scarfing down an enormous
stack of the most delicious waffles he had ever eaten in his entire life, complete with sticky sweet
syrup, washing it down with what he could only assume was freshly squeezed orange juice. (They
had sent up a pot of coffee too but he avoided that.)

He had just been licking the last remnants of syrup off his fork when Jungkook had walked in.
Taehyung froze, tensing as Jungkook came up to the table but kept his chin lifted, meeting that
cold, black gaze, refusing to look away. Although he couldn’t help the small tremor that went
through him when he remembered what had occurred between them the last time they had been at
the table together.

Jungkook stared down at Taehyung’s empty plate. “So,” he said stiffly, “you’ve eaten.”

Taehyung nodded curtly. If that asshole was going to berate him for eating without him, he had
another thing coming－

But Jungkook hadn’t said anything else about Taehyung’s solo breakfast. Instead, he had pulled a
smartphone out of his pocket and tossed it down onto the table next to Taehyung. “This is how it’s
going to work,” he said.

He then proceeded to explain to Taehyung what he expected when it came to using Taehyung’s
‘services,’ how they would communicate through text messages, what Taehyung was allowed and
not allowed to use the phone for, and other things like that. He also required that Taehyung visit
the spa in the building for weekly manicures and pedicures, waxes every two weeks (Taehyung let
out a small huff of annoyance but knew better than to protest), and regular haircuts. Although
Jungkook had already instructed the hairstylist not to cut it too short because Jungkook had decided
that he ‘preferred it long.’ And Taehyung was also instructed to go to the gym on the ground floor
three times a week, not to build up muscle but to ‘keep his figure.’ Jin would serve as his personal
trainer as well as his bodyguard and chauffeur.

“I’ll be paying you five thousand dollars every Friday by direct deposit into your bank account,”
Jungkook concluded. “Any questions?”

“Yeah. Am I allowed to breathe the way I want to? Or are you going to give me instructions on
how you want me to do that too?”

Jungkook hadn’t responded to that. Instead he just rolled his eyes and walked away. “See you
tonight. Do not ignore any of my messages.”

So that had been Taehyung’s new routine for the past week－hitting the gym with Jin, pounding
away on the treadmill and doing what seemed to be an excessive amount of squats; going for a
mani/pedi at the spa and almost kicking the aesthetician in the face because it tickled when she
touched his feet; and being fucked by Jungkook every single night. There had been one evening
when Jungkook had just requested a blowjob, which Taehyung was reluctant to do because it
meant he would have to take a more active role and actually do something instead of just allowing
himself to be used. He had genuinely tried his best though, kneeling in front of Jungkook while the
crime boss sat at the edge of the bed, taking Jungkook’s cock into his mouth and trying to put all of
Hobi’s banana practices to good use, all the while avoiding looking Jungkook in the eye.

But he could sense Jungkook wincing each time he accidentally let his teeth graze Jungkook’s
shaft and eventually Jungkook had pushed him off his dick, heaving a frustrated sigh.

“Jesus, that’s enough,” he had said. “Are you trying to give me a shitty blowjob on purpose so I
won’t ask you to do it again?”
“No.”

“Whatever. Get your ass on the bed, looks like I’m going to have to come by fucking you.”

Jungkook hadn’t asked Taehyung to give him another blowjob after that. And he hadn’t asked him
to share a meal with him again either. Taehyung ate his meals alone, asking Jin to call Jungkook’s
chef, still too shy to do it himself even though his number was programmed into his phone.
Jungkook must have decided to eat elsewhere because Taehyung hadn’t seen him eat a single meal
in the penthouse since Taehyung’s first night there. He only seemed to come home to fuck
Taehyung, shower, and sleep. He was always gone by the time Taehyung woke up in the morning
and usually didn’t return until late at night. He sometimes wonders what Jungkook does all fucking
day. Not that it matters, he’s just curious sometimes. But he isn’t going to ask. The less he knows
the better.

Taehyung blinks, realizing he’s been standing in the shower for the last ten minutes, lost in his
thoughts, his fingertips now all wrinkled and pruny. He shuts the water off and gets out, drying
himself off and rubbing his hair with the towel, squeezing out the excess water. Then he tiptoes
back into the bedroom, completely naked and dives under the covers, curling up into a little ball as
far away from Jungkook as possible. He’s grateful for Jungkook’s ridiculously massive bed. Most
nights it doesn’t feel like he’s sharing a bed with the crime boss at all, there’s so much space left
between them.

Jungkook lies on the opposite side, facing away from Taehyung, the sheets down around his waist,
revealing his naked torso. Just the other night, out of sheer curiosity, Taehyung had peeked under
the sheets to see if Jungkook slept naked too but no, the fucker wore sweatpants to bed. Fucking
hypocrite. Making Taehyung sleep in the nude while he got to at least put pants on. Taehyung is
still getting used to sleeping naked, he had usually slept with as many layers as possible when he
had been sleeping in the back room of the coffee shop and then again at the homeless shelter. But
at least the penthouse has climate control and after a few minutes of shivering, Taehyung usually
warms up pretty quickly.

He watches Jungkook for a few minutes, listening to the slow rhythm of his breathing. Some sort of
tattoo spirals up his right arm, something Taehyung had noticed on his second night when
Jungkook had come out of the shower. A snake, maybe? Some sort of vine? But it doesn’t matter.
It’s not like he’s going to move closer to find out. All these gang types have tattoos, he supposes.

He rolls over, hugging the blanket up to his chin. One week living in luxury, having so much free
time on his hands and all he’s done is allowed himself to be transformed into Jungkook’s little fuck
pet. Sit. Stay. Bend over. Good boy.

He can’t keep living like this. He can’t continue to waste whole entire days doing fuck all in the
penthouse, waiting around for Jungkook to come home and fuck him. He needs to make the most
of his time, he needs to prepare for his future. He needs a plan.

What should I do, what should I do…

Taehyung’s mind races through various possibilities, thinking of the things he needs to do so that
by the end of the year, he can live on his own as a fully functioning adult.

Learn how to cook. I’m not going to waste money on a personal fucking chef if I can learn how to
do it myself.

Get my GED so I can go to college after this. I’ll be able to study anything I want.
He bites his lip as he thinks of what he’d really love to do, something that he hadn’t even allowed
himself to think about in the last four years because it had just been so impossible, so entirely out
of his reach.

And maybe…just maybe…start painting again.

***

The next day after Taehyung has showered, dressed, and eaten another stack of waffles, he goes out
to talk to Jin.

“Hey, Jin? Jungkook said you could, um, take me out if I needed to go somewhere?”

“Yes…” Jin says cautiously. “Within reason, of course.” He gives Taehyung a rueful smile. “I’m
afraid I can’t take you to the airport or the train station or anything.”

“Oh no, nothing like that. Could you maybe take me to the grocery store?”

“Grocery store?” Jin asks and Taehyung nods. “Uh, okay, sure.”

Half an hour later, Taehyung is wheeling an empty grocery cart through the doors of Seoul’s
biggest superstore, something he’s never done before in his entire life. Such a simple, everyday
thing to most people but to him it’s all new. The squeak of the cart’s wheels, the tinny music being
piped through the speakers overhead, the people bustling around checking their lists on their
phones. And the food. What seems to Taehyung acres and acres of food, every kind of food he can
imagine and more, and he finally has enough money to buy whatever he wants, as much as he
wants. He’s never shopped in a massive store like this, never dared to because it just would have
reminded him of all the things he could never have. Before this, he had just bought his ramen
packages at the convenience store that had been down the street from the coffee shop and that had
been bad enough on its own with its racks of brightly coloured candy and tubs of ice cream in the
freezer.

Food had simply been a necessity over the past few years for him, a fuel to keep his body going.
Now it could be something for him to enjoy, something for him to learn about.

Jin trails him at a respectful distance as Taehyung wanders up and down the aisles, searching for
the ingredients for the recipes he’s decided to attempt－just simple ones like kimchi fried rice and
pan-fried fish. But he also can’t help throwing anything into his cart that catches his eye like purple
rice crackers, ChocoPuffs, and the shrimp chips he had become addicted to at the Bird Cage. He
tries to balance the snacks out with healthy stuff like apples and pears and spinach but he also adds
an entire case of Coke to his cart, something he had only allowed as an occasional treat for himself
before. He had mostly stuck with simple tap water because, well, it was free.

He’s just in the cereal aisle, trying to decide between banana-flavored corn flakes and cookies and
cream Chex when Jin comes up to him.

“Um, Taehyung? You know Jun Woo really doesn’t mind making meals for you. There’s no need
for you to spend money on food…”

“I know,” Taehyung says, glancing up at him. “I just kind of wanted to experience grocery
shopping for myself, I’ve never really been able to before…”
He trails off when he sees the puzzled frown on Jin’s face and he immediately looks away, his
cheeks burning. He hadn’t meant to let something like that slip, Jin must think he was such a
fucking loser.

“Well, in that case,” Jin says quietly, taking the cereal boxes from him and placing them in the cart,
“might as well spring for both so you can decide which one is your favorite. And when we get to
the freezer section, you should try some of those ice cream sandwiches. You know the ones shaped
like fish? Those are really good.”

Taehyung stares at him for a few seconds and then gives him a small smile. “Thanks, Jin.”

“No problem.”

After traveling up and down a few more aisles, Taehyung unexpectedly finds himself in the
stationery section, the shelves stacked with notebooks, pencils, and other school supplies. He tells
himself not to look, to just rush through this aisle as fast as possible but he can’t help himself－he
looks for it. And right beside the crayons and the colouring books, he finds it. The little plastic kit
of watercolor paints, made up of twenty-four different shades and complete with a cheap little
plastic brush. Exactly the same one as she used to get him for his combination Christmas/birthday
present almost every single year. Taehyung is sure that it’s even the same brand. Just under 5000
won, probably the cheapest paint kit money could buy, and the little tray never lasted him the
entire year and he’d have to make do with his broken crayons for a few months until his birthday
came around again. It was only ever the little paint kit and a cheap little sketchpad to paint pictures
on, never anything else, it was all she could afford to give him. But he always squealed with joy
whenever he unveiled the little watercolor kit from its tinfoil wrapping. It was a far more
meaningful gift to him than a bike would be or a remote control car. Even when he was in his early
teens.

What beautiful flowers, Taehyungie, they look just like the ones in the park…

Taehyung reaches out a hand, hesitates, and then grabs onto one of the kits and stares down at it.
His eyes start to sting and he goes to put it back but then he lays it carefully in his cart. Then he
takes it out again, puts it back on the shelf, starts to walk away－only to immediately turn around
and put the kit back in his cart, along with a sketchpad before he can change his mind.

Luckily, Jin has been hovering at the end of the aisle and if he notices Taehyung’s strange
behaviour, he doesn’t say anything about it.

To distract himself, Taehyung finishes up his shopping spree in the frozen section getting a few of
those fish-shaped ice cream sandwiches Jin had mentioned along with some popsicles in the shape
of slices of watermelon.

At last, he wheels his overflowing cart to the checkout, the cashier’s eyebrows flicking up as he
begins to pile all of his stuff onto the conveyor belt.

“Um…big party this weekend. Lots of friends coming over, you know?”

She doesn’t respond to that, just rolls her eyes and starts rapidly scanning the items, moving so
quickly that the food piles up faster than he can stuff it in the plastic bags she handed to him until
Jin finally takes pity on him and comes over to help.

Once everything is packed away into the cart, the cashier’s hand taps on the touchscreen, ringing
up his total and for a few seconds all Taehyung can do is gape at the number displayed on the
screen.
The cashier says something to him but he doesn’t quite hear her. Jesus, so much money for all that
food, he didn’t realize it would be so expensive, he hadn’t even bothered looking at the prices…

“Sir?” the cashier says impatiently. “Sir, how would you like to pay?”

“I…” Taehyung glances at her and then to the people waiting behind him in line, glaring at him, all
of them clearly waiting for this stupid kid to get his shit together and pay for his goddamn
groceries.

It’s okay, I can afford it now, he tells himself. It’s okay, I have money.

“Sorry,” he says, feeling flustered as he reaches for his wallet and the brand new credit card
Jungkook had also provided him. “That’ll be on－”

“Here, we’ll use my card this time,” Jin says, overriding him and handing the cashier a credit card
and giving her a friendly smile. “You got it last time, remember?”

The cashier’s expression immediately changes from barely-concealed contempt to overt

helpfulness, fluttering her eyelashes at Jin as she hands him the debit machine.

“No, Jin, you don’t have to－” Taehyung whispers as Jin punches in his code.

“You shouldn’t have to spend your money on food,” Jin says in an undertone. “Necessities, stuff
like that, it should come out of his bank account, not yours.” Taehyung opens his mouth to protest
but Jin shakes his head. “Don’t worry, the boss will reimburse me.”

Taehyung is overcome with such a sudden rush of affection and gratitude that he almost starts
sobbing right there in the store. “Thanks, hyung,” he whispers.

On the way back to the penthouse, Taehyung sits up front with Jin and Jin lets him choose the
radio station, even singing along with him when a Red Velvet song comes on.

Back at the penthouse, as Jin helps him put all the groceries away in Jungkook’s massive kitchen,
Taehyung can’t help himself from asking the question that’s been nagging at him.

“How’d you get into, um, you know, working for Jungkook?” he asks as he stores the ice cream
sandwiches in the freezer. “I mean, no offense, Jin, but you don’t really seem like the mafia type.
You’re too nice.”

Jin chuckles, stowing away the chips and ChocoPuffs in one of the previously bare cupboards.
“Most people wouldn’t describe me as nice. But I’ll take it as a compliment.”

“Seriously, Jin. If I saw you out in the street, I’d guess that you’d be anything else before I’d think
you were a mobster.” He gives him a shy smile. “I’d say you’re even handsome enough to be a
model or an actor or something.”

Jin’s ears turn red and he quickly looks away but not before Taehyung catches the small smile on
his face. But when he faces Taehyung again, his expression is distant, sober.
“Best not to ask too many questions, Taehyung,” he says awkwardly. “It’s my job to protect you
and the less you know, the better. Trust me, it’s safer for you.” He smiles tightly. “Suffice it to say,
I’m in this line of work due to a sense of familial obligation.”

“Oh,” Taehyung says. “Are you and Jungkook related?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. It’s just my father was, uh, in a similar sort of profession and so I kind of
followed in his footsteps, I guess.”

“Huh.” Taehyung nods as if he understands. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t understand how someone
like Jin, someone kind and sweet and caring, the type of person he would love to have as an older
brother, is stuck working for a monster like Jungkook. It just doesn’t make any sense.

“I think you could do something better,” Taehyung says to Jin. “I mean, I’m glad it’s you guarding
me and stuff and not someone else but you could do a lot better than working for…someone like
him.”

Jin sighs as he starts unpacking another bag of groceries. “Taehyung, it’s not－”

But at that moment, the front door opens and Jungkook appears, scanning around the room before
his eyes land on the two of them standing in the kitchen and he scowls.

Speak of the devil…

“What the hell are you doing in here, Jin?” Jungkook says harshly, coming in to the kitchen. “Why
aren’t you outside guarding the door?”

Jin opens his mouth to answer but Taehyung gets there first. “I asked him to help me put this stuff
away. So if you’re going to get all mad about it, blame it on me.”

Jungkook glares at Taehyung and then jerks his head at Jin, indicating the door and Jin, muttering
an apology, bows and leaves the room, closing the door behind him without so much as a glance
over his shoulder.

Jungkook frowns at the bags of groceries still on the counter. “What is all this shit anyway?”

“They’re called ‘groceries,’”, Taehyung says dryly. “They seem to be a bit of a foreign concept
around here.”

“What the fuck do you need fucking groceries for?” Jungkook says, rifling through one of the
bags. “What, is the stuff Jun Woo makes not good enough for you or something?”

“No,” Taehyung says slowly, “I just wanted to learn how to cook for myself. You know, like an
adult. Instead of having someone always make it for me.”

“Oh, really?” Jungkook pulls out the box of cookies and cream Chex cereal. “Then why did you
buy fucking kids cereal? Because you know this stuff is for children, right?”

“Whatever,” Taehyung huffs, snatching the box from him. “No one says you have to eat it. And I
can still eat whatever I want, there wasn’t anything in that contract about you deciding what I can
and cannot eat.”

Jungkook snorts. “I don’t fucking care what you eat, princess. Just as long as you work all that junk
food off at the gym. Because while I do love that fat ass of yours, I want the rest of you to stay nice
and slim.”
Taehyung nearly chucks the box of cereal at Jungkook’s head. But instead, he clutches it to his
chest and forces himself to take a deep breath. “I want a laptop.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said I want a laptop. I asked Jin about it earlier but he said I would need to talk to you about it
first.” He falters, trying to remember what Jin had told him. “Something about, er, security or
something?”

Jungkook considers him, tapping his fingers against the countertop. “Yeah, we would need to get
one of our tech guys to refurbish one, make sure no one could hack into it, things like that. But
what do you need a laptop for?”

Taehyung shrugs. “I dunno, why does anyone need a laptop these days? It’s not like it’s an
essential piece of technology or anything.”

“I’m not getting a laptop for you unless you tell me why you want one. And if you think I’m going
to allow you to sneak behind my back and get one yourself, forget it. I’ll instruct Jin not to take you
to any computer store of any sort and if you try to order one online, I’ll make sure any of your mail
comes to me first.”

Taehyung wants to scream in frustration because, once again, Jungkook is being a controlling piece
of shit. But he shouldn’t expect anything else from the mob boss at this point and getting into an
argument with Jungkook isn’t going to get him any closer to getting a laptop. So he decides to tell
him the truth. “I want it so I can study for my GED. Take practice courses, things like that.”

Jungkook stares at him. “You never graduated high school?”

Taehyung feels himself redden at the blatant disdain in Jungkook’s voice but holds his gaze. “Why
should it matter to you if I didn’t? It’s not exactly like you’re paying me to solve math problems
for you.”

How many mob bosses does it take to deflower a virgin? Solve for X…or would it be solve for
sex…

Jungkook pokes his tongue into his cheek, giving him a long, slow once-over and Taehyung shifts
uncomfortably.

“That’s right, I’m not,” Jungkook says finally. “But, fine, I’ll get you a fucking laptop. I’ll be
taking the cost out of your paycheck though.”

Taehyung nods curtly, going to put the box of cereal away in one of the cupboards but then he feels
Jungkook’s hand on his wrist, turning him to face him.

“What do you say, Taehyung?” Jungkook says quietly, stepping closer to him, invading his space.
“What do you say when someone agrees to do something nice for you?”

Taehyung tries to tug his arm away but Jungkook’s grip only tightens, not enough to hurt but
enough for the threat of pain to be there.

“Thank you,” Taehyung mutters, dropping his gaze.

“You’re welcome.” Taehyung can feel Jungkook’s eyes on him but he keeps his gaze on the floor.
With Jungkook standing so close to him, Taehyung can smell the cigarette smoke clinging to his
clothes and underneath that, something else, something heady and masculine that invades his
nostrils, making him feel slightly dizzy. Then Jungkook’s hand is on his ass, groping, giving it a
possessive squeeze and Taehyung can’t stop the small gasp that slips out of his mouth.

“See you tonight,” Jungkook whispers. “Wear the thigh highs but don’t bother putting any panties
on.”

Then, before Taehyung can respond, Jungkook is striding away, leaving the penthouse and
Taehyung is left to put the rest of the groceries away by himself.

***

“...and Nam Kang-Dae is still insisting that Baek Hyeon is trying to encroach on his territory, even
though we already settled that dispute…”

Jungkook tries to focus on what Namjoon is saying but he keeps spacing out, his mind inevitably
wandering to where it always seems to go these days.

“...but one of Nam Kang-Dae’s soldiers turned up on the docks this morning with a bullet through
his head and he’s insisting that the Kkachi gang had something to do with it even though I told him
it seemed more like the Jaegyueo gang’s style…”

Jungkook rubs at his forehead. They’ve been sitting at the table in Yoongi’s apartment for almost
the entire afternoon, going over the Yong Jegug’s various business dealings and responsibilities－
what politicians and cops need to be paid off and how much; shipments of cocaine and heroine that
need to be coordinated and distributed; the feud between the Kkachis and the Imugis that has been
threatening to blow up any day now.

And, of course, the ongoing, fruitless search for him.

Jungkook’s father, Jeon Yongsun, had always gone on and on about the importance of the Yong
Jegug, how their organization was the only thing standing between the citizens of Seoul and total
chaos, maintaining peace in the city, making sure everything ran smoothly. He used words like
‘honor’ and ‘duty’ a lot, making it sound like they were the sacred protectors of some fantasy
kingdom and Jungkook was the heir to Yongsun’s throne.

One day, my son, this will all be yours…

But Jungkook had known, even before he became the leader of the Yong Jegug, that it was all a
load of fucking bullshit.

Because it’s not people bowing before you, pledging their everlasting loyalty in exchange for your
protection. It’s not having your orders carried out without question or bestowing favors on people
with a magnanimous wave of your hand while you sit in a plush office chair with a fucking cat in
your lap. It’s resolving petty squabbles before they devolve into bloody, senseless gang wars; it’s
dealing with greedy, corrupt cops who always demand more and more to look the other way when
a drug shipment comes in or when a rival gang member suddenly ‘disappears.’ It’s beating a drug
runner’s head in with a crowbar because he decided he was going to attempt to make off with your
supply and start his own little side business.

And it’s endless, tiring meetings with his inner circle, trying to sort through all the bullshit and
somehow turn it into fertilizer to keep his empire going.
There’s Namjoon, his mediator and one of his guards. Also, he’s possibly the smartest person
Jungkook knows so he oversees anything technical, like when they need to hack into another
gang’s cyber network. Then there’s Bogum, his accountant and Seojoon, his lawyer.

And, of course, Yoongi, his second-in-command. Although whether or not Jungkook can trust him
to stay in that position is something he still struggles with. But, the thing is, he doesn’t really want
anyone else filling that role. Even after everything that happened.

Jungkook sighs and stares out the window. Jin would normally be here too but he’s busy guarding
Kim Taehyung right now…

Kim Taehyung.

That’s who his mind keeps drifting away to, thinking about the kid, wondering what he’s doing
right now. He likes to think he’s languishing around his penthouse, clad in nothing but a pair of
tiny panties, pining away for him, counting down the hours until Jungkook gets back and fucks
him, giving the little slut what he craves because in his imagination, Taehyung wants him, needs
him, aches for him…

He likes to think things like that. But he’s come to the bitter conclusion that this is not the case.

So far, Taehyung has submitted to him, doing exactly as Jungkook requests, wearing what he tells
him to wear, waiting on the bed how he tells him to wait. He lets Jungkook fuck him without a
word of protest, no snappy comebacks like that first night when Jungkook had taken his virginity.
On the surface, it would look like Jungkook had broken him, finally made Kim Taehyung over into
his perfect little whore. But it’s a false image, like the kind you would see in a funhouse mirror.

There is still resistance in Taehyung’s stubborn silence, in the way he refuses to look back at
Jungkook while his cock is inside him, how he doesn’t respond to any of the degrading names
Jungkook calls him.

Whore. Bitch. Slut.

He wants a response, he wants a reaction so the filthy words spill out of his mouth as he fucks
Taehyung even though what he really wants to say is Come for me, baby. Tell me it feels good, tell
me you like the way I fuck you. Say my name.

He’d be satisfied with a ‘yes’ or a ‘please, Jungkook, don’t stop’ or even a ‘fuck.’ But the only
sounds Taehyung makes are the involuntary moans that slip out of his mouth as Jungkook
hammers against his prostate and he knows Taehyung tries to hold them back as long as possible.
So Jungkook chases those noises, chases Taehyung’s orgasm instead of his own because feeling
the kid come apart underneath him is the closest he’ll get to Taehyung admitting that he likes it.
But Taehyung still hasn’t voiced that sentiment out loud and Jungkook doesn’t think he ever will.
He shouldn’t care that much, Taehyung wants his money and Jungkook wants his ass and he gets it
every single night, slipping inside of Taehyung after a long day, the exquisite tight heat feeling like
paradise.

A convenient fucking hole. That’s what Jungkook said he wanted and that’s what Taehyung gives
him. So why does it bother him so much when Taehyung keeps his face buried in the mattress,
refusing to look at him?

There are times he’s considered telling Taehyung to wait for him lying on his back with his legs
spread so the little whore will be forced to look at Jungkook while he fucks him. That would
probably get a reaction out of him but, god, it would be too tempting. Too tempting to lower his
head and taste those sinful-looking lips, doing the one thing that was forbidden to him. He
supposes his obsessive thoughts about kissing Taehyung are for that reason, the whole ‘wanting-
what-you-can’t-have’ sort of thing. If Taehyung hadn’t put that ‘no kissing’ stipulation in the
contract, he wouldn’t even care.

He could always get rid of Taehyung, pay him out and just cut his losses, go back to using the
whores at the Bird Cage, the ones who actually smiled at him and didn’t look at him like he had
horns growing out of his head or a forked tongue. But he still wants Taehyung to yield to him, to
see that defiant fire burn itself out and turn to shameless lust, get Taehyung begging for him, crying
out his name, please, Jungkook, please…

“Boss?”

Jungkook looks around at Namjoon, coming reluctantly out of his fantasy. “Hmm?”

Namjoon is looking at him uncertainly. “I was just asking about what you wanted me to do about
Nam Kang-Dae?”

Jungkook blows out a frustrated breath. “Tell him that we’ll schedule another meeting between him
and Baek Hyeon so we can all come to some sort of final agreement. And tell him that if the two of
them can’t sort their shit out, then we’ll do it for them.”

“Yes, boss.”

Namjoon pulls out his phone to call Nam Kang-Dae’s mediator and Jungkook stands up, restless
and feeling more than a little bit horny. He wanders over to look out the window, thoughts of
Taehyung still flicking through his mind. His gorgeous ass, his beautiful face, the soft little cry he
can’t help but make when he comes…

The meeting’s far from over and he won’t be able to fuck Taehyung for hours yet. But…maybe a
little break is in order? He can just call Jin and tell him to bring the kid over here, have a little
quickie with him in the car…

Before he can talk himself out of it, Jungkook pulls out his phone and taps on Jin’s number.

“Hey, Jin? Bring Taehyung over here to Yoongi’s, will you? No, make him stay in the car, just text
me when you’re here and I’ll come down. And tell him to wear something sexy.”

“Hello, how are you today…”

Taehyung peers at the screen of his laptop, sounding out the English words, the unfamiliar vowels
awkward on his tongue. It’s one of the things he has to study for his GED and, while he feels he’s
getting the hang of it, he much prefers his Social Studies and Science courses. And his Art course,
his one elective. That one is his favorite.
He’s been studying diligently for about a week now, three hours in the morning and three hours in
the afternoon, using online study guides and ebooks he’s downloaded onto his phone. It’s nice to
be able to fill his time with something productive, something that he has to use his mind for, his
current job (and his previous job, come to think about it) not exactly being intellectually
stimulating.

Jungkook had presented him with the laptop a mere two days after he had asked for it, a MacBook
Air, a computer so lightweight and high-tech that he uses his fingerprint to unlock it, feeling like
some sort of secret agent.

Jungkook had hovered over him while Taehyung sat at the dining table with his new computer,
booting it up and frowning slightly as he followed the set-up instructions on the screen. It had been
annoying, having Jungkook standing right there while he was trying to figure things out and he had
opened his mouth to ask Jungkook if he would kindly fuck off when Jungkook spoke.

“Do you want me to show you how to use it?”

Taehyung had blinked up at him, completely caught off-guard that the mob boss was offering to
help him with something. He had almost said yes too, mostly because he was so startled. But then
he imagined Jungkook making all sorts of snide remarks just because this was the first time
Taehyung had ever used a laptop.

So instead he turned away, focusing on the screen again. “No thanks,” he said stiffly. “I’m sure
you have better things to do. If I get stuck, I’ll ask Jin.”

Jungkook had just stood there for a few seconds and Taehyung could feel his eyes on him but he
studiously ignored him, staring at the screen.

“Fine,” Jungkook muttered. “Good fucking luck, baby doll.” Then he had finally left and
Taehyung was able to breathe easily again.

And the laptop had proved to be fairly intuitive and easy to set up, sharing a similar interface as his
iPhone so Taehyung hadn’t even needed to ask Jin for any help. He had felt immensely proud of
himself when he had signed up for his courses all on his own, feeling like he was at last taking a
step forward in his life.

He had kept checking his bank account too, waiting for Jungkook to deduct the cost of the laptop
from his paycheck but Jungkook had still paid him in full on Friday. Maybe he had simply
forgotten but Taehyung wasn’t about to remind him. He’s not going to complain about Jungkook
providing him with a free laptop, even if it had been unintentional.

He leans back in his chair, stretching his arms out and then powers his laptop off, deciding that
he’s put in enough study time for today. Time to relax, maybe make himself a cup of tea, watch a
few more episodes of Death Note before Mr. Jerkface texts him and he has to get Pluggy out.

Just as he’s putting the kettle on, there’s a soft knock at the front door and then Jin pokes his head
in. “Hey, Taehyung?”

“Oh, hey, Jin, I’m just making some tea, you want some?”

“Oh, no, sorry, tea will have to wait. Jungkook has requested that I, ah, take you to him so he can…
see you.”

Taehyung frowns at him. “See me? Like, you mean…” And Jin nods.
“Oh.” Weird. Jungkook has never wanted to have sex in the middle of the afternoon before and
he’s never asked that Taehyung be taken to him. What, can he not wait a few fucking hours? He
needs to fuck Taehyung now?

Huh…kind of flattering almost…

Okay, that thought I just had? It can fuck right off.

Taehyung takes the kettle off the stove, sighing. “Where is he exactly? Like, where will we be
going?”

“Uh, just to another apartment building. He’s sort of in a meeting right now.”

“Meeting?” Taehyung looks up at Jin, raising his eyebrows. “With the people that work for him?”

“Uh…” Jin is looking slightly embarrassed, like he’s already said too much. “You won’t be
meeting them or anything, he asked that you stay in the car. And he also asked that you wear
something…” Jin trailed off, turning the color of a ripe tomato.

“Slutty?”

“Sexy. He used the word sexy.”

“Hmm…” Taehyung taps his finger against his lip, a delicious little scheme forming in his mind. “I
think I can do that. Just give me a few minutes.”

He goes to the bedroom, rummaging in the closet for one of the outfits he had taken from the Bird
Cage, a skimpy little something that Hobi had provided for him. He’s never worn it except to try it
on but he thinks it might do the trick, especially paired with the Dior combat boots Jungkook had
bought for him.

He gets dressed and spends a few minutes primping in front of the mirror－or at least trying to, not
really knowing how to make himself look more alluring. He tries fluffing up his hair a little bit,
giving it that sexy disheveled look. And Jimin had told him once that he has nice lips so he swipes
some lip balm on, even though he certainly isn’t planning on kissing anybody, especially not
Jungkook. But it can’t hurt to make them look kissable. Once he’s done, he gazes at himself in the
mirror and thinks that he might just be the cutest little twink this side of the Han river.

Hopefully, anyway.

But he does get a confidence boost when he comes out of the bedroom and Jin sees him and
immediately makes a strangled choking noise, his eyes popping out of his head.

“What do you think, Jin?” Taehyung says, spreading out his arms to display his outfit. “Do you
think this will work?”

“Y-yeah,” Jin wheezes, still gaping at him. “Yeah, it’ll work f-fine.”

“Cool! Let’s go.” He beams at Jin, giving him a little pat on the shoulder as he trots past.
“Wouldn’t want to keep the boss waiting, would we?”

Taehyung smirks. Okay, Jungkook, time to see who works for you. And time to find out if I can
make them work for me, too.
Jungkook paces restlessly back and forth in front of the table, only half listening to his men discuss
the finer details of the incoming shipment of cocaine, what drug runners to use, how to distribute it
to the dealers, how much to pay them, and other technical, boring shit like that. His eyes keep
straying to the clock on the wall in Yoongi’s living area, getting more and more frustrated with
each passing second. It’s been almost half an hour since he called Jin, telling him to bring the kid
over and he still hasn’t received a text from him, announcing their arrival. It doesn’t take that long
to get from his penthouse to Yoongi’s apartment building, even in heavy traffic. It couldn’t
possibly take Taehyung that fucking long to pick out something to wear, could it? That would
imply that he cared enough to look good for him…

Whatever. The fucking brat was probably just stalling as long as he possibly could.

He’s just about to pull his phone out to call Jin again and ask him what the fuck is taking so long
when he hears the penthouse door open and they all look around to see Kim Taehyung saunter over
the threshold.

Jungkook’s jaw drops.

He’s seen Taehyung in lingerie before, everything from thigh highs to thongs and tiny scraps of
lace but the outfit he has on now can only be described as skanky: A black leather biker jacket over
a tissue thin white tee shirt with a plunging neckline, the fabric so sheer, Jungkook can see
Taehyung’s nipples through it; tiny denim cutoffs that are barely there and he just knows that if
Taehyung turns around, his asscheeks are going to be spilling out of them. But it’s the thigh highs
Taehyung is wearing that really hog all of his attention－wicked black fishnets, exposing more of
his long, golden legs than they cover up, held up by little garter straps that disappear into his
shorts. So he’s got a garter belt on underneath but Jungkook has a very strong suspicion that the kid
isn’t wearing any underwear. Not underneath those shorts.

It’s got to be an outfit he took from the Bird Cage. Jungkook would have remembered buying
Taehyung something like that.

Taehyung strides up to him, a bright smile pasted on his face, the tread of his black combat boots
echoing on the wooden floor. “Babe!” he cries, throwing his arms around Jungkook’s neck－and
then kisses him.

It’s just a kiss on the cheek but it still catches him off guard and he startles slightly, feeling
Taehyung’s soft, pillowy lips pressed against his skin, warmth lingering on his face where
Taehyung’s mouth had touched him. Taehyung pulls back, arms still around his neck, grinning at
him.

“How the fuck did you get in here?” Jungkook says quietly, trying to keep his voice level. But
Taehyung has his scantily-clad body pressed right up against him and he’s having trouble
remembering why he’s pissed off right now. Because he is pissed off at Taehyung, he knows there
is a very good reason why he’s fucking livid with him but Taehyung is making it a bit hard for him
to focus on his anger. “I told Jin to make you wait in the car for me.”

“I know!” Taehyung says cheerfully. “But I was so eager to see you, baby.” He pouts, his big,
brown eyes widening. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
Happy, no. Horny, yes. And that’s what was making it so difficult to concentrate right now, lust
dulling his senses, making him feel stupid and slow. Because Taehyung is dressed like the sluttiest
little streetwalker he’s ever seen in his entire life and Jungkook is just about to tear the little scraps
of fabric right off of him and have him, right then and there.

But…why is Taehyung acting like this? Like he’s pleased to see Jungkook, pretending as if he
hasn’t looked at Jungkook with utter contempt and loathing over the past few weeks. Does he have
a concussion or something? Sudden amnesia?

“But…” Jungkook says slowly, “there’s a guard posted at the door.”

“Yeah, Sang Ook? Oh my god, he’s such a sweetheart!” Taehyung reaches up, squishing
Jungkook’s cheeks. “He just let me in as soon as I told him how much I missed my wittle bunny
wabbit.”

Okay, first of all Sang Ook is so fired. And second of all, wittle bunny wabbit? What the fuck is
going on here?

Taehyung giggles and then turns to face the men sitting at the table in front of them. “Hi,” he purrs,
fluttering his lashes. “I’m Taehyung.”

Jungkook looks at his men and Taehyung’s intentions become all too clear. They’re all gaping up
at Taehyung, mouths open, eyes wide－with the exception of Yoongi who is looking at Taehyung
with bored indifference. But the rest of them are looking at him like he’s an angel sent from heaven
above, faces shining with complete awe. Bogum looks especially smitten, looking like he wouldn’t
hesitate to take a bullet for him. And, one by one, in a matter of mere seconds, he sees his men’s
loyalty instantly shift from him to Kim Taehyung. Jungkook may as well not even be in the room
for all the attention they’re paying to him.

“H-hi,” Bogum stammers, half-rising from his chair and practically diving across the table with his
hand extended. “I’m Park Bogum.”

Taehyung giggles again, shaking Bogum’s hand. “Very nice to meet you, Bogum.” Then he winks.
“I love that tie you’re wearing. Very hip.”

“Thanks,” Bogum says dreamily, looking as if Taehyung had just told him that he was the hottest
stud in all of South Korea. And his tie wasn’t even that interesting, just a plain powder blue tie.

Seojoon and Namjoon introduce themselves to Taehyung, both of them blushing as Taehyung
shakes their hands and gives them some sort of compliment－Seojoon on his haircut and Namjoon
on his smile. Yoongi just gives Taehyung a curt nod and then looks away, his jaw clenched. But
the others are completely under Taehyung’s spell, eating up Taehyung’s little bimbo routine
without question.

Jungkook grinds his teeth. Manipulative little whore.

Taehyung still has one arm wrapped around Jungkook’s shoulders and he turns to him, giving him
a little squeeze. “It’s so nice to finally meet all of your friends, sweetie.” He looks back at
Jungkook’s men, patting Jungkook’s chest. “He’s so funny, he just wants to keep me all to
himself.” Then he leans forward, adding in a stage whisper, “Did you guys know he likes to be
called ‘Daddy’ in bed?”

“No I don’t,” Jungkook says quickly, feeling his face heat. For fuck’s sake, Taehyung is actually
making him blush.
To his men’s credit, not one of them is stupid enough to laugh. Although he does notice Yoongi
cover his mouth with his hand to cover his smirk, his eyes crinkling up at the corners.

Seething, Jungkook grabs onto Taehyung’s wrist and tugs him towards the door. “Come on,
sweetheart, let me walk you back down to the car.”

“Okay!” He looks back over his shoulder, waving goodbye to his men. “It was nice to meet you
guys!”

“Nice to meet you too,” Bogum calls after them, still sounding dazed.

Jungkook pulls Taehyung behind him, not even sparing him a glance as he storms down nine
flights of stairs, through the lobby, and out onto the sidewalk where Jin stands on the curb beside
the car.

“I told you to keep him in the fucking car!” he snaps at him.

“I－”

But Jungkook doesn’t wait to hear his excuse, yanking open the back door of the Lincoln and
shoving Taehyung inside. “Get in there, you little whore!” He climbs in, slamming the door behind
him.

Inside the car, Taehyung immediately drops his bimbo persona, that bright hot fire sparking in his
eyes as he glares at Jungkook. “I don’t know what you’re so fucking angry about, you told me to
come see you.”

Jungkook reaches for him, grabbing his arm and throwing him facedown along the back seat,
tugging his little shorts down to reveal the garter belt, arousal punching through him when he
confirms his suspicions－Taehyung is going commando, his round ass bare of anything except for
the garter straps digging into his buttcheeks.

Jungkook spanks him roughly, making Taehyung cry out. “So,” he snarls, “you wanna call me
‘Daddy,’ huh?”

“Oh, lighten up,” Taehyung huffs, scowling at him over his shoulder. “It was a fucking joke, jeez.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, baby doll,” Jungkook growls, undoing his belt buckle. “I think Daddy needs
to teach you a little lesson…”

Jin stands outside on the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette and doing his best to ignore the slight
rocking of the car, the yelps and moans coming from inside. Harder to ignore is Jungkook’s harsh
voice yelling, “Come on, you little whore, say it! Call me Daddy!” and the hand pressed
desperately against the back window and then the cry of “Oh, Daddy!”

He sighs and starts humming to himself, trying to block out the noise.

Fifteen minutes later, Jungkook emerges from the backseat, straightening his clothes. “Take him
home,” he snarls, jerking his chin at the car and then marches back into the apartment building,
smacking open the glass door and disappearing inside.

Jin drives Taehyung back to the penthouse, glancing at him in the rearview mirror every few
seconds. “You okay?” he asks hesitantly.

“Yeah, Jin, I’m fine,” Taehyung says calmly, staring out the window. He’s quiet the rest of the trip
back but Jin can’t help but wonder at the small smile playing around his lips, a faraway expression
in his eyes.

***

Jimin sighs as he slips under the covers of his bed, showered and divested of his lingerie, now
wearing a pair of pink silk pajamas. It hasn’t been such a bad night. Nam Kang-Dae had requested
his services this evening and all the gang leader usually wanted was to cuddle Jimin a little and
have his ego stroked, have Jimin tell him what a big strong man he was. And he might be in the
mood for a handjob or a blowjob but never anything more than that. The man was well into his
sixties now and he had a bad hip so his fucking days were pretty much over. So it was a pretty easy
night, overall. Plus, Nam Kang-Dae was always respectful, bowing to Jimin afterwards, thanking
him for his services and wishing him a good night.

The only thing that grated on him about Nam Kang-Dae was that he always, without fail, brought
up the auction.

“I bid on you on your auction night, Jimin-ssi,” the gang leader would say every single time. “Did
you know that? I do wish it had been me that had won you. It’s one of my life’s greatest regrets.”

“I wish you had won me too, Kang-Dae nim,” Jimin lied. “It would have been an honor to enjoy
my debut night with a man of such…virility.”

It was a load of fucking bullshit. Jimin wouldn’t change a single thing about his auction night. Or
who he had spent it with.

He turns on the TV mounted on his wall, wanting to distract himself from these stupid, pointless
thoughts he always has. But he misses Yoongi. And he misses Taehyung too. Misses their movie
nights together, how Taehyung always made him dissolve into tears of laughter by speculating on
just how small his buyer’s dick would be and if he would be able to keep himself from giggling.

They wouldn’t get mad, right? If I laughed? he would say. These mobster types, they must have
pretty good senses of humor. I mean, what are they gonna do, shoot me?

Fucking fearless, that kid. Maybe a little bit reserved, he hadn’t told Jimin too much about his past,
only that he had been in a tight spot and needed the money. But that was every whore’s story at the
Bird Cage. Sill, there had been something special about his friendship with Taehyung, an instant
connection, a sort of recognition when they had first met each other. Oh, there you are.

And then that fucker, Jeon Jungkook, had ruined it, stealing Taehyung away because he was
nothing but a selfish, heartless asshole who always had to interfere and make the people around
him fucking miserable. He seems to have developed quite the habit of taking away the people
Jimin cares about, first Yoongi, now Taehyung. He should know by now not to get too attached to
anyone.

He scrolls through Netflix, trying to decide between watching The Proposal and Moulin Rouge,
when there’s a knock on his door.

“Chimmy,” Hoseok’s voice calls through the door. “Oh my little Chim Chim Cheroo…Uncle Hobi
needs to talk to you, my darling…”

Feeling uneasy, Jimin gets up and puts his kimono on before going to answer the door. It’s never a
good thing when ‘Uncle Hobi’ pays him a personal visit. Especially at this time of night.

He opens the door to see Hobi standing there, wearing an acid green suit and grinning at him. Bo
stands slightly behind him in what Jimin calls his ‘bodyguard stance,’ shoulders back, looking
straight ahead, face set in a stony expression.

He feels a little prickle of worry even though he has no idea what Hobi would need to talk to him
about. He’s pretty sure Nam Kang-Dae wouldn’t have any reason to complain.

“Hey, Hobi,” he says, trying to keep his voice casual. “What’s going on? Everything okay?”

“Oh, everything’s peachy keen, jelly bean,” Hoseok says, that shark’s grin fixed on his face. “It’s
just that there’s a man asking to see you. He’s waiting for you in the bar.”

Jimin frowns. “A man? Uh, okay but who is it, exactly?”

“Well, that’s the thing, sugar,” Hoseok says, stepping a bit closer, crowding into his space. “Don’t
know who he is. Never seen him before in my entire life, never been a client here as far as I know.
Now why,” he goes on, taking both of Jimin’s hands in his own, “would a man that’s never been
here before be asking for you?” He squeezes Jimin’s hands just a bit too hard. “You wouldn’t be
dealing under the table, would you, my little Chimmy Chum? You wouldn’t do that to Uncle Hobi,
right?”

“Of course not, Hobi,” Jimin says, keeping his voice calm, maintaining eye contact with Hoseok,
not daring to look away or pull his hands out of Hobi’s grasp. “I wouldn’t do that to the best boss in
the whole world.” He shrugs. “If there’s a man asking about me, perhaps he just heard about me
from one of my clients. You know how they like to brag about me.” He gives Hoseok his most
winning smile, knowing he has the advantage here because he’s telling the truth. He really does
have no idea who would be asking to see him. But there’s still a flicker of fear inside of him,
something he’d be stupid not to feel in Hobi’s presence.

Hoseok considers him for a few more seconds, peering at him as if he’s trying to look directly into
Jimin’s skull. But then he pulls back, releasing his hands and his smile seems more easy now, less
strained. “They do love to brag about my little Chimmy. Not surprising, seeing as how you are oh
so delectable, my pretty.” He eyes Jimin up and down and Jimin fights the urge to wrap his kimono
around himself. Then Hoseok jerks his head at Bo, stepping aside. “Bo will take you up to see him.
Keep it short, Chimmy. You need your beauty rest. And you will tell me if this man has any, ah,
pertinent information worth sharing, understand?”

“Sure thing, Hobi.”

Hoseok disappears down the hallway and Jimin follows Bo up the stairs to the twisting maze of
client’s rooms. Some of the other whores are still working and he can hear moans and heavy
 breathing through some of the doors as they pass.

“Any problems tonight, kid?” Bo asks gruffly as he leads him to the main hall of the Bird Cage.
Translation: Anyone I need to rough up for you?

“Nah, it was all good. Thanks for asking, Bo.”

Bo nods curtly and then they’re at the mahogany double doors that lead into the main hall where
two more of Hoseok’s bodyguards are standing. They bow him through, Jimin nodding to Bo when
he tells him that he’ll wait outside to escort Jimin back to his room.

Jimin heads to the bar on the other side of the hall, winding around the bird cages as he goes. He
nods to Yugyeom and Chanmi, still in their respective cages, obviously not having made their
quota for tonight. If you did not make your quota you did not leave your cage until the crack of
dawn, even though the whores always had keys to their own cages on them. If you tried to sneak
out and go back to your own room, Hobi would send one of his goons after you and drag you out of
bed and put you right back in your cage.

As he approaches the bar, he notices a young man sitting at one end, tapping his fingers on top of
the polished surface, a half-drained pint of beer sitting in front of him. He glances up as Jimin
comes closer, looking at him with polite interest but there’s no attraction or lust in his eyes. Not
that he’s offended or put out, but he can just tell now when a man wants to fuck him. And this guy
doesn’t. So why is he here?

“Hello,” Jimin says cautiously, sliding onto the bar stool next to him. “I understand you’ve been
asking for me?”

“Uh, yeah, hi,” the guy says sounding nervous. He’s quite handsome, Jimin notices, with sandy
hair and nice eyes, and a whole lot younger than the Bird Cage’s usual clientele. “You’re Jimin,
right?”

“Yeah…” Jimin says slowly. “Sorry, have we met?”

“Uh, no, definitely not,” the guy says hastily. “But…” He looks away, biting his lip and then looks
back at Jimin. “Do you know someone named Kim Taehyung?”

Chapter End Notes

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 Chapter 4
Chapter Summary

What a wicked thing to do...to let me dream of you...

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Jungkook stands in front of the door to his bedroom, shadows of midnight darkness stretching
through his penthouse. He waits, hands in his pockets, unmoving.

The door creaks open of its own accord and an enormous tiger pads out, its striped fur matted with
blood. The tiger’s eyes flash at him through the darkness, fluorescing bright gold, the only light in
the shadows of the penthouse, like a bonfire in the middle of a dark jungle. A growl rumbles out of
its throat as it saunters past him, its long tail twitching.

Its throat. It’s bleeding from a wound in its throat.

Jungkook watches as it fades away into the gloom and then turns and steps toward his bedroom,
moving slowly as if he’s wading through water. Each of his footsteps is loud, echoing, like the
ticking of a grandfather clock.

He crosses the threshold into his bedroom and Taehyung is spread out for him on top of the sheets,
wearing nothing but a pair of black thigh highs, his golden skin bathed in moonlight. He sighs
happily, his full lips tilted up in a soft smile.

Finally,” he purrs, spreading his legs even wider in a wordless invitation, “I’ve been waiting for
you, Jungkook…”

A dragon flies past the window, its serpentine body undulating, rippling like a banner, moonlight
shining bright on its silvered scales.

Jungkook shrugs out of his suit jacket and climbs onto the bed, hovering over Taehyung, caging
him in. His cock is achingly hard in his pants, pulsing with desire for Taehyung. He wants to mark
Taehyung, make him his, sink his teeth into soft, golden flesh, wants to devour him. And he wants
Taehyung to mark him too, wants to feel Taehyung rake his fingernails down his back, leaving
behind bleeding red stripes.

Jungkook leans down, ready to feast on him when Taehyung grabs his arms and flips them over so
he’s on top, straddling Jungkook’s hips. He gets his hands on Jungkook’s shirt, tearing it open,
exposing his chest.

Jungkook chuckles. “Feeling feisty tonight, my little tiger?”

Taehyung smiles at him, his eyes flashing gold as he runs his hands down Jungkook’s torso,
fingertips skimming over his ribcage. “Always for you, Jungkook,” he says softly. “Only for
you…”

He leans down, pressing his lips against Jungkook’s chest, soft and yet so incredibly hot against
his skin that the heat is almost painful. When Taehyung pulls back, there’s something left on the
spot where his lips had touched Jungkook. Rubies, blood-red and glimmering.

Then Taehyung is unfastening his pants, sinking down onto Jungkook’s cock, moaning with
pleasure as he begins to ride him. Jungkook grasps Taehyung’s hips, helping him move, unable to
tear his eyes away from the sight of Taehyung’s beautiful face contorted in ecstasy.

“Feel good, baby?”

“Y-yes,” Taehyung breathes, his head thrown back, the column of his neck exposed, “feels so
good…you feel so good inside me, Jungkook…”

“God, Taehyung, you’re beautiful…you’re so fucking beautiful…”

Taehyung sobs, moving his hips faster, his nails digging into Jungkook’s chest, unearthing even
more rubies, beading on his chest like droplets of blood. Taehyung looks straight into his eyes, tiny
diamonds glistening on his lashes like tears.

“Jungkook,” he whispers, “I love you.”

Jungkook groans, feeling like his heart is going to burst out of his chest.“I love you too, Taehyung.
I love you so fucking much.”

There’s an explosion of sparks above them, raining down on them in golden embers, landing on
their skin, bright and burning.

Taehyung grabs a hold of Jungkook’s torn shirt, hauling him upwards so that they’re face to face.

“Kiss me, Jungkook,” he breathes against his lips, “kiss me…”

Jungkook jerks awake, blood pounding in his ears, images from his dream still imprinted in his
mind. Taehyung on top of him, riding him, telling Jungkook how good it feels…

His cock is achingly hard, tenting the front of his sweatpants, precum already leaking from the tip.
He considers it a fucking miracle that he didn’t come in his sleep, especially while having a dream
like that. But he’s still aroused, still in need of release and Taehyung…he needs Taehyung…

He rolls over to see Taehyung in his usual spot－on the other side of the bed, as far away from
Jungkook as he can get without falling off the mattress and ending up on the floor. Jungkook
crawls over to him (Why is his bed so fucking big? Why does Taehyung always have to sleep so
fucking far away from him?), pressing close to Taehyung, his bare chest pressed against
Taehyung’s naked back.

Taehyung is curled into a tight little ball, knees drawn up to his chest, sound asleep. Jungkook pulls
the blanket down, revealing his naked skin, his gorgeous body tucked up tight. His clothed erection
rubs against Taehyung’s ass as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to Taehyung’s shoulder. “Wake
up, baby,” he whispers, moving to mouth along his neck, nibble his earlobe. “Wake up…”

Taehyung makes a little humming noise, stirring slightly. “Mmm…”

Jungkook presses himself more insistently against Taehyung, rocking his hips, grinding against his
ass. “Come on, baby…I want you…want you so bad right now…”

Taehyung seems to come more fully awake, letting out a soft little groan as he looks over his
shoulder at Jungkook, blinking blearily at him. “Mmm…hi…”

“Hi,” Jungkook says, gazing down at him.

Taehyung yawns. “I was sleeping…” he mumbles. He’s still tucked into that tight little ball.

“I know.” Jungkook nuzzles his neck, caressing his arm. “I couldn’t help myself.” He runs a hand
along Taehyung’s thigh, smooth and hairless thanks to the waxing treatments he gets at the salon.
“Why do you always sleep like this?”

“Hmm?” Taehyung says, his eyelids fluttering closed again. “Sleep like what?”

“All curled up like this?”

Taehyung sighs, turning away from him, rubbing his face against the pillow. “I dunno, habit I
guess. My cot was too small for me.”

Jungkook frowns. Wait a second…cot? What the fuck was Taehyung talking about?

He wants to ask him about it but then Taehyung speaks again. “Your bed’s a lot more
comfortable,” he murmurs, “nice and roomy…”

“Yeah?” Jungkook says, gently turning Taehyung to face him and Taehyung makes a little whining
sound as he stretches out beside him. “You like sharing a bed with me, Taehyung?”

“Not so bad, I guess,” Taehyung says, his voice still raspy with sleep. “I don’t get cold like I used
to…”

Once again, it’s a cryptic remark that Jungkook wonders at but his still-throbbing cock is
demanding he prioritize here, put first things first.

“I’ll always make sure you’re nice and warm, baby,” Jungkook whispers, snaking his arms around
Taehyung’s waist, pulling him closer. “Get you all hot and sweaty…I know you like it when I do…
I know you like it when I fuck you in this bed…”

“I…” But then Taehyung gasps when Jungkook leans down and starts sucking a mark onto his
neck, teeth nipping at his soft skin. “Ohhhhhh…”

He can feel Taehyung’s growing arousal against his leg and he pulls back, studying his face in the
shadows of the room. “Tell me you want it, Taehyung,” he says quietly. “Tell me you want me.”

Taehyung’s breath hitches and he places a hand against Jungkook’s chest, not pushing him away,
but tracing his index finger over his skin, drawing an invisible pattern over his heart. “Am I still
dreaming right now?” he says in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know, baby,” Jungkook replies, inclining his head towards him, “I think maybe we both
are…”

He brings a hand up to Taehyung’s face, cupping his cheek, angling his face towards his own,
holding his breath as he lowers his head, his lips mere inches away from Taehyung’s.

But just when their lips are about to brush, Taehyung lets out a startled sound and pushes Jungkook
away, scrambling back from him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Confusion flickers through his dream-dulled brain, puzzled by Taehyung’s rejection because
hadn’t he just asked Jungkook to kiss him mere moments ago? But then the realization crashes over
him and he comes fully awake, remembering why Taehyung sounds so horrified, why he just
pushed Jungkook away.

Rage burns through him and he grabs Taehyung, getting on top of him, pinning him with his body
weight, seizing his wrists and holding them over his head. “What could you do about it, you little
whore?” he snarls in Taehyung’s face. “What the fuck could you do about it if I kissed you right
now?”

“No!” Taehyung cries desperately, turning his face away but Jungkook gets a hand on his chin,
forcing him to look at him, still pinning his wrists to the mattress with one hand.

“You can cry about it all you want, you fucking slut,” he growls. “But I own you and I am going to
take whatever the fuck I want from you and you’re going to give it to me. Understand?”

He starts to lower his head, Taehyung’s lips tantalizingly close, he’s a breath away from finally
tasting him when Taehyung speaks.

“I don’t want you to kiss me.”

Jungkook stills and he lifts his head up to look down at Taehyung’s face. “What did you say?”

Taehyung’s eyes burn with that glorious bright fire as he glares up at Jungkook. “I said I don’t
want you to kiss me, Jungkook. And if you have to force someone to kiss you, then you’re even
more pathetic than I thought.”

For an endless moment, they stare at each other, gazes locked, their chests heaving. The biggest
part of Jungkook’s mind is telling him to just kiss Taehyung, take what he wants because
Taehyung belongs to him and, as Taehyung pointed out himself, the contract between them isn’t
legally binding anyways. So his stupid little ‘no kissing’ stipulation doesn’t fucking mean
anything, is totally worthless and if Taehyung isn’t happy with Jungkook ‘breaching’ the contract,
well, tough shit.

But there’s a much smaller part of his mind whispering that stealing a kiss from Taehyung, forcing
it on him, might just be the worst thing he’s ever done.

And, in the end, it’s the whisper that wins out.

Swearing, he gets up off the bed and storms out, slamming the door behind him. He marches into
the kitchen, opening the cupboard that holds all his alcohol and he grabs a bottle at random, not
bothering to turn any lights on to read the label. He pours himself a glass and gulps it down. It’s
whiskey, Jack Daniels, burning down his throat like liquid fire.

Jungkook pours himself another glass and sets the bottle on the counter, wandering over to the
window, looking out over the shining lights of Seoul, sipping his drink. The alcohol does nothing
to sooth his nerves, he’s still feeling shaky and off balance from what had just happened in his
bedroom, the dream and reality clashing, merging, and he can’t quite sort them out in his mind.

Jungkook, kiss me…I don’t want you to kiss me…

Taehyung above him, riding him, eyes bright with warmth and affection. Taehyung pushing him
away, fear and disgust on his face.
I fucking hate you…Jungkook, I love you…

Taehyung spread out on the bed, smiling at him, telling him he’s been waiting for him. Taehyung
facing away from him when he comes in every night, naked, bared to him but completely silent.

I love you too, Taehyung…I love you so fucking much…

Jungkook rests his forehead against the cool glass of the window, heaving a sigh.

Fuck.

***

Taehyung stands in front of a huge oil painting, the canvas showing a nude woman leaping into the
jaws of a gigantic crocodile, sword raised high in her hand like the heroine out of some
mythological tale. All the paintings are like that in this particular area of the Seoul Museum of Art,
done by the same artist－the canvas right next to it shows a woman staring down an enormous
rampaging boar, spear held high in her hand. And the one on the adjacent wall shows a group of
women climbing over the corpse of a massive snake, having stabbed it to death with their swords,
the hilts of their blades sticking out of its scales.

Taehyung likes them. They’re violent and bloody and, even though the women are all nude, they
don’t feel exploitative or titillating. The women are all painted with strong, athletic bodies, their
faces determined and ferocious looking, more fearsome than the colossal animals they’re battling.
Looking at them makes him feel powerful, inspired, like he could take on anyone and anything if
he only had a sword in his hand. These women aren’t owned by anybody.

He sighs, rubbing self-consciously at his neck. If only he could relate.

He can’t believe that Jungkook actually gave him a hickey last night and, on top of that, had tried
to kiss him. And he can’t believe he had almost let him.

A flush creeps up his face as he thinks of how he moaned like the whore Jungkook is always
insisting he is when he felt the crime boss’s lips against his neck. And he had been getting aroused
too, feeling Jungkook’s arms around him, his muscular body pressed so closely to Taehyung. But
his guard had been down, he had still been hazy and confused from the dream he had awoken from,
not knowing what was real and what wasn’t.

The dream. That’s another thing his mind keeps going back to, still so vivid in his head that it feels
more like a memory. In the dream, he had been lying in bed with Jungkook, both of them naked,
limbs intertwined, snuggling close, moonlight shining down on them through the window as they
talked. Taehyung can’t remember what exactly they had been talking about but he does remember
that the conversation had felt easy, intimate, as if they were a couple talking about whatever it is
couples talk about. Jungkook had been tracing his fingertips all over his body, not to arouse him
but just because he wanted to touch him. And Taehyung had been doing the same thing, running
his hands over Jungkook’s chest, his stomach, touching him in all the places he had been curious to
feel. The most vivid part of the dream, the thing that had felt the most real was when Jungkook
traced his thumb over Taehyung’s lower lip and asked if he could kiss him.

“Tae…can I kiss you?”

And of course, Taehyung had said yes because in the dream, he wanted Jungkook to kiss him
because Jungkook was different. Kinder and more gentle, almost as if he were a completely
different person. Jungkook had started to lean in close and Taehyung had parted his lips for him,
waiting, his heart pounding with anticipation…

And that’s when the real Jungkook had woken him up. But he had still been so confused because
the crime boss was doing almost the same thing as the dream Jungkook, caressing him, murmuring
soft words in his ear. It had been comforting having Jungkook’s muscular arms wrapped around
him, helplessly arousing when he had mouthed at Taehyung’s throat. He hadn’t been able to tell
dream from reality and then Jungkook had lowered his head and they were so close…

Thank god he had remembered in time, remembered who he was with and what he had been about
to lose to him.

He doesn’t know what ultimately made Jungkook back off when he had been trying to force a kiss
on him. All he knows is that Jungkook hadn’t come back for the rest of the night and hadn’t been
in the penthouse when Taehyung had woken up this morning.

Maybe he’s being silly and sentimental about the whole kissing thing－Taehyung doesn’t really
consider himself a romantic. He allows the crime boss to fuck him, after all, and a lot of people
would consider that more intimate than kissing. But Taehyung doesn’t. There’s nothing intimate
about the way Jungkook fucks him and his stubborn heart keeps insisting that he save his first kiss
for someone special, someone he loves. It’s something he can hold on to, a glimmer of hope that
after all of this and Jungkook’s nothing more than a bad memory, he’ll be free to have his first kiss
with someone he’s fallen in love with and with someone who loves him back. He will not cheapen
that future moment by allowing Jungkook to shove his tongue in his mouth.

Or maybe he’s just kidding himself. Who’s going to fall in love with someone who has whored
themselves out to Seoul’s biggest crime boss? How the fuck do you bring that up on a first date?

Taehyung gives himself a little shake, coming out of his depressing thoughts. No use thinking
about that kind of stuff right now. It’ll only make him feel worse about the fucked up state of his
life than he already does.

At least he has the money and the time to visit art galleries now. That’s definitely a positive thing.
He wanders into the next room of the art gallery, looking around at a bunch of abstract sculptures
with holes in them. Jin follows him, keeping his distance, pretending he’s just another visitor
engrossed in the artwork, allowing Taehyung his privacy. He never rushes him either, letting him
wander and look for as long as he likes.

He’s also been to the MMCA and the Kukje Gallery, every one of them seeming like wonderful
palaces from a fairy tale, holding the most exquisite treasure－paintings, sculptures, huge statues
and bizarre art installations. He goes out to art galleries at least three times a week, a little outing
for himself after he’s finished his studies. On other days, he asks Jin to take him to book stores or
just out to one of Seoul’s parks. He’s thought about asking him to take him to an art supply store
but Taehyung isn’t sure if he’s ready for that yet. He hasn’t even been able to bring himself to use
the little watercolor kit that he bought at the grocery store. Not yet.

He stares at one of the sculptures, a vague triangle shape with a hole in the middle. Although he
likes visiting the art galleries and it’s definitely when he feels the closest to being happy, there’s
still an ache in his chest as he looks at all the artwork, a useless wish that she was here to see them
too, tell him what she thinks the artist was trying to say.

He feels it then, a little prickle of awareness as if someone is watching him and he turns, looking
around the room. There’s Jin, of course, but he’s on the other side of the room, pretending to look
at one of the sculptures but his body is still facing Taehyung and he can feel the bodyguard’s focus
on him. But that isn’t the source of the uneasiness he’s feeling all of a sudden.

There’s a young couple holding hands, concentrating more on teasing each other than looking at
the artwork, the girl giggling at something the boy said. A group of tourists trailing along behind a
guide, clutching their little guidebooks. And a man in a baseball cap who he saw in the very first
room. The man turns to face Taehyung, looking him straight in the eyes. And then he smiles.

Cold fear steals over him and before he even knows how to process anything, Jin is there, taking
him firmly by the arm. “We need to go. Now,” he says in an undertone and he leads Taehyung out
of the room, walking briskly towards the entrance.

Once they get outside, Taehyung thinks they’re okay because the man doesn’t seem to be
following them. But then there’s another man, standing on the steps of the museum, wearing
sunglasses and staring directly at Taehyung as Jin herds him down the steps. Taehyung’s heart
leaps into his throat when he sees that the man has his hand in his jacket.

“Shit,” Jin hisses. “Shit.” He gets his arm around Taehyung’s shoulders, pressing him tightly to his
side, shielding him as they run down the steps. Taehyung expects a gun shot to go off any second,
expects a bullet to hit either him or Jin but they make it to the car, Jin unlocking it remotely and
pulling the back door open. “Get in, get in,” he says urgently, shoving Taehyung inside. “Keep
your head down.”

Taehyung climbs into the back seat, his heart pounding, keeping his head ducked low as Jin slides
into the driver’s seat.

“Taehyung, lie down across the back seat,” Jin commands as he starts up the car. “Grab a hold of
the seat belt or something and don’t sit up until I tell you.”

Taehyung does as he’s told, pressing his face against the cold leather of the Lincoln’s backseat,
grabbing onto the seat belt and wrapping it around his arm, gripping tight. Jin pulls away from the
curb, tires screeching but a mere five seconds later he stomps on the brake and Taehyung lurches
forward, almost falling off the seat onto the floor.

Jin swears, looking over his shoulder, placing one hand on the back of the passenger’s seat and
now they’re driving in reverse, weaving drunkenly on the pavement. Taehyung can’t see much
from where he’s lying but judging from the horns honking, he’s willing to bet that Jin is dodging
around cars, driving around the oncoming traffic with one hand, his face set in a look of grim
determination, eyes sharp and focused.

And then they’re turning, the car swinging around so fast that Taehyung’s stomach drops and he
almost vomits all over the seat. They’re going forwards now, Jin driving at such a speed that
everything that Taehyung can see out the window is a complete blur.

“Jin,” Taehyung calls to him, his voice shaking, “what’s happening－”

“It’s okay,” Jin grits out, “it’s okay, I think we lost them, I just need to make sure, just hold on.”

They drive for another twenty minutes, half an hour, Jin making sharp turns and muttering under
his breath. Then they’re wheeling into an underground parking lot and Jin is pulling him from the
Lincoln and ushering Taehyung into the backseat of another vehicle, a huge black SUV with tinted
windows.
“Can I sit up now?” Taehyung asks him as Jin climbs into the driver’s seat.

“No, just stay down, Taehyung, just to be safe.” Jin’s voice is calm but Taehyung can still detect
the barest tremor as he speaks. “I’m taking you back to the penthouse but just stay low, okay?”

Taehyung obeys, adrenaline still pumping through him, making him shake. What was going on?
Who were those men? Why were they after him?

He doesn’t get a chance to ask Jin though because he’s taking out his phone, tapping on it with one
hand as he drives out of the parking garage. “Namjoon?” he barks into it, holding it up to his
mouth. “Jesus Christ, man, where the fuck is the boss? I need to talk to him now.”

***

Jungkook storms past the extra guards posted at the door and into the penthouse, followed by
Yoongi and Namjoon. Jin gets up from where he’s sitting at the kitchen counter. “Boss－”

But Jungkook marches right past him and up to Taehyung, who is sitting on the couch, staring off
into space. “You okay?” he says roughly, placing his hand on Taehyung’s cheek, making
Taehyung look up at him.

“Jeez, I’m fine,” Taehyung huffs, knocking his hand away. “Stop fussing.”

Jungkook scowls at him. Most people would be shitting in their pants after nearly getting cornered
by gang members in an art gallery. But not Taehyung who only looks like he suffered a mild
annoyance, like a broken nail or a stubbed toe.

Fucking fearless, this kid.

He turns and glares at Jin. “What the fuck happened?”

“Two men in the art gallery,” Jin says quickly, as if he’s already been anticipating Jungkook’s
interrogation. “One inside and one waiting outside. And then there was the car that tried to follow
us－”

“You recognize any of them? Gang members?”

“Well, no that’s the thing,” Jin says, “they felt more like hired hit men. They didn’t look like
soldiers or even associates.”

Fuck. So they were random hit men hired by some gang leader to try and cover their tracks better.
Fucking cowards.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, turning to face him. “I want security footage from the gallery and I
want it now. I don’t care what methods you have to use to get it.”

“Yes, boss,” Namjoon says and then bows and leaves the penthouse, smart enough to know not to
stall when it came to carrying out Jungkook’s orders.

Jungkook turns to Taehyung. “You recognize these men? Know them from somewhere?”
Taehyung blinks up at him. “No, why the fuck would I know a couple of hit men－”

But he stops, recoiling when Jungkook leans over him, putting his hands on the sofa and caging
Taehyung in. “I’m gonna need you to think really hard, baby doll,” Jungkook says softly. “Have
you seen them anywhere before? In places you’ve gone to recently, in another art gallery or the
park or that fucking book store you always like to go to. Have you seen them?”

“I…” Taehyung looks away, biting his lip, brow furrowed as he concentrates. But then he looks
back at Jungkook and shakes his head. “No, I’ve never seen them before.”

Jungkook stays there, hovering over him for a few seconds, unconsciously stealing a glance at his
lips and then straightens up, turning to Jin. “This was the first time you saw them?”

Jin nods. “I’m pretty sure this is the first time, I haven’t noticed anyone trailing us until today－”

“You’re pretty sure?” Jungkook takes a step closer and Jin gulps. “You’re pretty sure no one’s
been following Taehyung until today?” He gets right up close to Jin, staring him in the face and
even though the other man is slightly taller than him, Jin looks as if he’s fighting the urge to back
away from him. “There is no margin for error here, Jin, not when it comes to shit like this,”
Jungkook says, his voice rising. “You are supposed to fucking protect him and you let two of these
fuckers get close enough to take a shot at him! So don’t fucking tell me that you’re pretty sure－”

“Don’t yell at him!” Taehyung snaps. “Jin was amazing, he protected me, I’m fine－”

“Taehyung, for once in your life, will you just shut the fuck up!”

“No, I will not shut the fuck up!” Taehyung gets to his feet, his hands clenched into fists. “You
don’t get to fucking come in here and start blaming Jin for something like that! He risked his own
life to protect me and now you’re yelling at him! Fuck you, you asshole, I’m not going to let you
do that!”

“You won’t let me－”

“No, I won’t! If you’re going to get mad at anyone, why don’t you get mad at, oh I don’t know,
the people who actually tried to come after me?”

There’s dead silence for a full ten seconds after Taehyung’s outburst. Yoongi is looking at the kid
with an expression that is a mixture of admiration and disbelief, as if he’s a particularly reckless
stuntman who has just signed their own death warrant.

“Oh, trust me, Taehyung,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth, stepping close to him again. “I am
fucking livid with the men who went after you because it means that they know you belong to me
and yet they’re threatening you anyways, which makes them both very stupid and extremely
dangerous. So let me ask you this, Taehyung,” he continues, “have you told anyone that you’re my
personal escort?”

“For fuck’s sake, no. Because, first of all, who the fuck would I tell and, second of all, why the
fuck would I tell them that I work for someone like you.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook persists, ignoring Taehyung’s little jab. “Mention my name anywhere,
tell anyone at the Bird Cage?”

“No, I didn’t have time. And, like I said, it’s not something I would fucking broadcast anywhere.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue but then Yoongi speaks. “That’s where we have to start, boss.
We should go talk to Hobi, ask him if anyone’s been showing interest in Taehyung since the
auction night, been asking around for him.”

“It’s Jwi,” Jungkook says, glancing at Yoongi. “This kind of shit is that motherfucker’s style, I
know it’s not Nam Kang-Dae－”

Yoongi sighs. “Maybe it’s Jwi, maybe it isn’t but I think we should still talk to Hobi first.”

“Wait, um, Jwi, you said?” Taehyung asks hesitantly. “That name sounds kind of familiar…”

“He was the one who threatened you at the Cage on your auction night,” Jungkook says, watching
Taehyung closely. “You know, because you said he had a small dick? The one you said looked
like he got his face run over by a truck.”

“Oh…” Taehyung says, realization dawning on his face. “Yeah, I ran into him in the hallway at the
Bird Cage. Before I, uh, left with you.”

“What?”

“I didn’t really think much of it, I mean he did ask who won me on my auction night. But I didn’t
tell him,” Taehyung adds hastily when he sees the look on Jungkook’s face. “I just, um, may have
implied that he had a small dick.” Taehyung bites his lip. “Again.”

Both Yoongi and Jin let out quiet snorting sounds, quickly stifled.

“For fuck’s sake,” Jungkook says, rubbing at his forehead, heaving an exasperated sigh. “I knew
you were too mouthy for your own good.”

“Oh, whatever. That guy was a total douche.”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

And for a second, it looks like Taehyung almost smiles at him, as if they’re on the verge of sharing
a joke but then Taehyung just looks down at his feet, fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater.

“Okay, we’re going to the Cage tonight,” Jungkook says to Yoongi. “Call Hobi and let him know
we need a private meeting. And you can tell him I don’t care what else he has going on tonight, this
is urgent.”

“Yes, boss.”

He pulls out his phone and steps away to make the call and Jungkook turns back to Taehyung. “Oh,
and in the meantime, you have to stay here. No more outings for you until we catch this son of a
bitch, understand?”

“What?” Taehyung’s head jerks up and he gapes at Jungkook. “I’m not allowed to leave the
penthouse?”

“Taehyung,” Jungkook says, trying to keep his voice calm, “it’s for your own safety－”

“No, no fucking way! You can’t keep me locked up here like some sort of prisoner!”

“Fine!” Jungkook explodes. “Go outside then! But I’m not going to assign anyone to guard you and
you’ll be out on your own and even more fucking vulnerable to these people than you were today!
And when they inevitably kidnap you, don’t think I’m going to come charging in to rescue you,
princess. I’ll cut my losses and consider you a fucking write-off.”
Jungkook hopes Taehyung doesn’t call his bluff. Because there is no way in hell, if someone stole
Taehyung away from him, that he wouldn’t burn the entire world to the fucking ground to find
him.

“But－”

“Taehyung, what do you think is going to happen if they take you!” Jungkook snaps. “Those men
today had an opportunity to kill you but they didn’t. You know why? Because they don’t want to
just kill you, they want to take you somewhere and they want to hurt you. Do you understand what
I’m saying?”

Taehyung stares at him and then slowly turns to look at Jin, his eyes pleading silently for help. But
Jin shifts uncomfortably and glances away.

“If you ask Jin to protect you when you know there are men out there who are trying to take you,
then you’re putting him in danger as well. And time spent guarding you on your stupid little day
trips is time that could be spent trying to find these motherfuckers. And the sooner we find them,
the sooner you can go outside again.”

Taehyung is shaking his head, backing away from him, eyes darting around the room as if he’s
looking for an escape.

I know you think I’m a monster, Jungkook wants to say, but there are much bigger monsters out
there, ones who’ll rip your body apart, carve up your beautiful face, torture you until you’re
begging them for death. I know these monsters. I’ve met them. So please, just stay here. Stay here
where you’ll be safe, my little tiger.

“Taehyung－”

“Fine!” Taehyung bursts out. “Fucking fine, I’ll stay here! Who cares? Who gives a flying fuck if I
go crazy just as long as you get what you want!”

He turns and strides toward the bedroom, disappearing inside and slamming the door behind him.

“That could have gone better,” Yoongi says mildly.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Could have gone a lot worse too.” He sighs, staring at the closed
bedroom door and then turns to Yoongi. “What did Hobi say?”

“Says he’s free for a meeting anytime before ten so we should probably head over there now.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook smooths down his jacket, adjusting the collar. “It’s gotta be Jwi, though. Who
else would it be? Especially if Taehyung provoked him, he’d want to get his revenge.”

“True,” Yoongi says slowly. “But say you’re wrong and it isn’t Jwi. Say we throw all our time and
energy into finding him and putting him under but it turns out it wasn’t him, it’s someone else we
should have been looking at.” He lifts his chin, looking Jungkook in the eye. “We can’t afford to
make assumptions, boss. We need to know for sure.”

Jungkook chooses to pretend like he doesn’t know what Yoongi is referring to. “Let’s go see Hobi
before he gets distracted by tentacle porn again.”

Yoongi smiles grimly. “Knowing him, he’s already watching it.”

 ***

“So, JK,” Hoseok says, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on his desk. “How’s my
little Taehyungie doing?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Not quite so virginal anymore, I
bet? You been putting that gorgeous ass of his to work?”

Jungkook bristles at Hoseok referring to Taehyung as ‘his’ but reminds himself that he has bigger
problems right now. “I’m not here to make small talk, Hobi,” he says, standing by Hoseok’s desk
with his hands in his pockets. “It seems we have an issue.”

Behind him, he can sense Yoongi pacing restlessly by the door. But he had made it clear already
that they were going to be in and out, get the information they needed from Hobi and leave. They
were absolutely not making any detours while they were at the Bird Cage.

“Issue?” Hoseok says, sounding puzzled. “Uh, what sort of issue?”

“I won’t go into specifics but it appears that someone has let it slip that Taehyung belongs to me
now. They went after him, Hobi.” Jungkook steps around the side of the desk, moving closer to
Hoseok, hands still in his pockets. “Since the only person here at the Bird Cage who knew about
our little arrangement was you, it begs the question－who did you tell?”

“Me?” Hoseok says, pointing to himself. “You think I told anyone?” He scowls. “You know, I’m
quite insulted that you would even ask that of me, one of your oldest and dearest friends. I would
never－”

“Hobi,” Jungkook says quietly, taking out his switchblade from his pocket and flicking it open. “I
am not fucking around right now. Who did you tell?” He begins to carve little x’s in the cherry
wood desk and Hoseok grimaces. Although he looks more annoyed than intimidated.

“JK, I swear I didn’t tell anyone,” Hoseok insists. “And no one else knew about the deal except us.
So I don’t know how they found out that you signed a contract with Taehyung. Are you sure it was
even related to that? Maybe it was random－”

“It wasn’t fucking random,” Jungkook snarls, gouging his blade in deeper into the wood. “They
went after him, they were trying to fucking take him. Or at the very least send a message that that’s
what they’re planning on doing.”

“What about people who asked about him, Hobi?” Yoongi says from the door. “There must have
been people who asked about him after the auction night.”

“Well, yeah, obviously there were,” Hoseok says, rolling his eyes. “Practically everyone who was
there at the auction night has inquired about him at least once.” He huffs, scowling at Jungkook.
“You know I practically gave him away to you for nothing. I bet I could have made three times
what you paid for him in like six months.”

“That’s not my fucking problem,” Jungkook says. “I want names, Hobi. Who specifically asked for
him?”

“Jesus, everyone fucking asked for him, okay? Nam Kang-Dae, Baek Hyeon, even one of Baek’s
fucking guards came up to me with a wad of cash in his hand, asking if it would be enough for a
fucking blowjob from the kid－”

“What about Jwi?” Jungkook interrupts. “Did he ask for him?”

“Jwi?” Hoseok taps at his chin, thinking. “Yeah…” he says slowly. “Yeah, he asked the night after
his auction. But only the one time. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen Jwi around lately. No one
has.”

Jungkook turns to Yoongi, raising his eyebrows but Yoongi only looks back at him and give his
head a small shake. Doesn’t mean anything.

Jungkook faces Hoseok again. “I want a list, Hobi. Of everyone who asked about him and I want
you to highlight the names of the people who seemed to express a particular interest. And I want
that list now.”

“Okay, okay,” Hoseok says irritably, letting his feet fall from his desk and pulling his computer
monitor towards him. “Pretty long list, though, it’ll be longer than my dick.”

“So only like two or three names then,” Yoongi quips. He exchanges a look with Jungkook and for
a moment it feels like it used to be between them, when things were easy and they trusted each
other. The way it felt before everything that had happened. But Jungkook turns away, canceling it
out.

Hoseok gives Yoongi a sour look but then a strange smile comes over his face as he begins to type
on his keyboard. “It is a shame about Taehyung not working for me anymore,” he says casually.
“But I must say my little Jimin is still raking in the big bucks for me. Two, three clients a night,
you know. Sometimes four.” He winks at Yoongi. “Makes you proud, doesn’t it?”

“Extremely,” Yoongi says stiffly.

“I think he’s with someone right now, in fact,” Hoseok says, grinning evilly as he types up the list.
“All the men here just can’t keep their hands off my little Chimmy. Can’t keep their dicks out of
him either－”

Yoongi takes an abrupt step forward, his expression murderous but Jungkook gives him a glance of
warning, gesturing silently for him to back off and turns back to Hoseok.

“What do you tell the guys, Hobi?” he asks, changing the subject. “When they ask about
Taehyung?”

Hoseok shrugs. “Oh, just that he fucked off with his money after his auction night, a sort of one-
time deal you know?”

“And they believe that?”

“Well, yeah,” Hoseok says. “The kid’s obviously not here so why wouldn’t they believe me?”

Someone clearly hadn’t believed Hoseok. Someone had done some more digging, not taking what
the owner of the Bird Cage had told them at face value. Or maybe Hoseok isn’t telling Jungkook
the entire truth.

Still, they had to start somewhere and the list was something to go on. Once Hoseok had printed it
out for them, he stood up, clapping Jungkook on the back. “Drinks? You wanna head to the bar
with me for old times sake, JK? I can have some sushi ordered and we can eat it off of Chanmi－”

“Not tonight, Hobi,” Jungkook says, folding up the list and putting it in his jacket pocket. “We’ve
still got some work to do.”
 ***

Jungkook stares around at his men, all seated at Yoongi’s dining table. The only one not there is
Jin but he’s guarding the penthouse right now, along with the two other guards Jungkook had
posted there. Even though Jin had fucked up by letting the hit men get close at the art gallery, he
had still protected Taehyung and Jungkook had a sneaking suspicion that he had a personal interest
in keeping Taehyung safe. A stupid little schoolboy crush that the little whore had probably
manipulated him into, pretending to be Jin’s friend so he could take advantage of him. A risk,
keeping Jin so close to Taehyung. But even if the kid were stupid enough to offer Jin sexual favors
in exchange for his freedom, for a chance to sneak outside without Jin informing Jungkook, he
knows Jin isn’t stupid enough to accept an offer like that. Not if he values his life.

“This is your priority,” Jungkook says, tapping the list of names sitting in the middle of the table.
“One of the men on this list decided they were going to try and take something that belongs to me.
That was a mistake and they need to be found and punished accordingly. We will operate our
business as usual but this,” he taps the list again, “is your reason for living right now. And it will
keep on being your reason for living until we find the motherfucker responsible. You will not eat,
you will not shit, you will not take a fucking step without thinking of ways to catch them and bring
them to me. You find them, I want them alive. Subdue them, torture them if you have to but the
final kill is mine. Is that clear?”

There are murmurs of ‘yes, boss’ from around the table from everyone. Everyone except Yoongi.

“If I may, boss,” he says quietly. “What about the man who we were originally looking for?”

Jungkook glares at him. “Oh, were you looking for him, Yoongi? It seemed to me your heart
wasn’t in it. It seemed to me like you weren’t even trying that hard to find him.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenches but he doesn’t say anything.

“You can pull double duty, my friend,” Jungkook says coldly. “I believe you’re up for the
challenge. But our priorities have shifted.” He jabs his finger at the list. “I want the fucker who
tried to take Taehyung and I want him now. Understand?”

Yoongi glances away, his eyes shuttered. “Yes boss.”

Chapter End Notes

A couple of people suggested that I do previews for the next chapter in the end notes
so here's my first attempt at a little teaser:

“That is massively fucked up.”

Jungkook looks up at Taehyung, who is gaping at him, looking completely horrified.

He frowns. “It’s the way things are done, Taehyung. Every gang member has to go
through an initiation of some kind and that was mine.”

“So? Doesn’t make it any less fucked up.”

Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated - and I love reading
people's theories about what they think might happen next so feel free to share them in
the comments! (Although I won't tell you if they're right or not haha)

Playlist

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 Chapter 5
Chapter Summary

Jungkook and Taehyung...have an actual conversation with each other??

Chapter Notes

A couple of warnings for this chapter: there is some violence as well as a scene that
features a flashback where a character is coerced into having sex with an adult while
they themselves are underage.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Taehyung putters around the kitchen, making his third cup of tea that day and it’s not even late
afternoon yet. He’s been stuck in the penthouse for two entire weeks while Jungkook and his men
are looking for his stalker and he deals with it by brewing multiple cups of tea a day, sitting
moodily on the couch and flipping through Netflix or reading some of the books he’s ordered
online, and throwing himself into his workouts in the gym on the ground floor, sneakers stomping
on the treadmill as he turns the settings to as high as they can go and sprinting in place like he’s
running for his life.

He’s also allowed to go down to the salon for his waxing treatments and hair appointments
because god fucking forbid he let his leg hair grow out. Jungkook still has the audacity to demand
he keep himself smooth and hairless, that he puts time in at the gym because apparently Mr. Mob
Boss still needs his nightly fuck session even though he’s supposed to be hunting down the fuckers
who are after Taehyung so he can go outside again.

Fucking son of a bitch.

Okay, maybe Jungkook only fucks him every other night now and the sex doesn’t last as long as it
did before, even though Jungkook still makes Taehyung come every time. And he’s eerily silent as
he fucks Taehyung, no degrading harsh words spilling out of his mouth, as if his mind is
preoccupied with something else. It’s kind of strange and Taehyung isn’t sure if he prefers quiet
Jungkook to vocal, domineering Jungkook. Either way, Jungkook still gets off and he’s still paying
Taehyung every week so Taehyung figures the mob boss is still satisfied with his ‘services.’

But it’s weird. Just the other night, Taehyung had been lying in bed, trying to sleep when Jungkook
had come in. He hadn’t sent Taehyung a text telling him to put on lingerie or anything so he had
figured Jungkook wouldn’t be using his body that night. And he had guessed correctly, Jungkook
heading straight to the bathroom and turning on the shower.

Taehyung had pretended to be asleep when Jungkook had gotten out, opening his eyes just a
fraction to sneak a peek at him as Jungkook went over to the closet and dropped the towel from his
waist, sighing heavily as he pulled on a pair of sweatpants. He quickly closed his eyes again and
tried to focus on keeping his breathing even as Jungkook turned around and climbed into bed,
stretching out on the opposite side. And Taehyung had been tempted to say something to him,
along the lines of ‘how’s the search going?’ or ‘any updates?’ or even ‘um, I’m awake if you want
to…you know...’ But he had squashed that thought and kept his mouth shut. He could get himself
off without Jungkook’s help if he wanted to, thank you very much. Although he had to admit that
being fucked by Jungkook was a nice distraction from being so fucking miserable about being
cooped up in the penthouse, the powerful orgasms Jungkook always gave him temporarily clearing
his mind of stress and anxiety. And it’s easier for him to drift off to sleep post-orgasm, his body all
loose and limber, completely relaxed.

But he’ll never admit that to Jungkook.

Taehyung sips at his tea, staring out the penthouse window down onto the streets of Seoul. Maybe
Jungkook’s right and all he does is bitch and complain about everything, it’s not like he’s out on
the streets anymore. He’s staying in a luxurious penthouse and he supposes there are worst places
to spend under house arrest. But, back in his previous life, he had at least been allowed to go
outside and there hadn’t been anyone trying to kill him and he hadn’t had some egotistical crime
boss trying to control his every move. No one had paid him any sort of attention at all as long as he
kept his head down and did his work. He wouldn’t trade the security that Jungkook’s money has
given him for anything but…he misses it sometimes. The anonymity, the freedom to at least go
where he wanted. Within reason, of course, it’s not like he could splurge on going to movie theaters
or shopping malls or any of the other places people with money went when they wanted to
entertain themselves. No, if he took himself anywhere, it was usually to the park. That was free at
least.

Nature is free, Taehyungie…we may not have a lot but nature is always free…look how beautiful
the flowers are…

He bites the inside of his cheek. He misses outside, he misses wandering around the art galleries,
getting lost in the colours and the shapes and the meaning, the wordless stories of the artists. And
he misses her, more so now than ever because that day is tomorrow, it’s already weighing heavy
on his heart like a stone and he feels like he will go fucking insane if he has to spend it trapped in
Jungkook’s penthouse, unable to even go see her…

Fuck it. He has to do something for her.

Setting his tea cup down on the dining table, he marches determinedly to the bedroom and
rummages through his side of the closet, finding the little cloth bag he had stashed on the floor.
Taking a deep breath, he pulls out the little watercolor paint kit and the sketch pad, at last peeling
off the plastic and cracking it open.

***

Yoongi hefts the crowbar in his hand, giving it an experimental swing as if he’s hitting an invisible
baseball with a bat. “It’s a simple question, my friend,” he says, swinging the crowbar again. “Who
hired you?”
The hit man tied to the chair eyes the crowbar nervously, beads of sweat pouring down his face. “I
already told you,” he says defiantly. “The confidentiality of my clients comes first. I wouldn’t be
very good at my job otherwise.” He gulps. “So you can threaten me all you want but I’m not telling
you a fucking thing.”

“Hmm.” Yoongi turns to look at Jungkook, leaning against the wall of the warehouse with his arms
crossed. He stares at the hit man for a few long seconds and then flicks his gaze to Yoongi, giving
him the barest nod.

“Well, maybe I can persuade you to be a little more forthcoming.” Yoongi raises the crowbar high
and then brings it down on the hit man’s knee, so hard that he feels the jolt of the impact all the
way up to his shoulder. There’s a sound like wood splintering and the hit man lets out a howl of
pain as his kneecap implodes.

“Just give me a name!” Yoongi snarls. “I just need a name from you and maybe you’ll be able to
walk out of here instead of crawling on your stomach like a fucking cockroach!”

“Fuck you,” the hit man shrieks, writhing against the ropes tying him. “I swear to fucking god you
are fucking dead, I’ll kill you, you fucking son of a bitch－”

“You are not in a position to make threats right now,” Yoongi says, pointing the crowbar at the hit
man’s chest. “So I suggest you start talking.”

The hit man glares at him, hissing in shallow breaths through his teeth but keeps his mouth shut.

“For fuck’s sake, give me that,” Jungkook growls, coming up and snatching the crowbar out of
Yoongi’s grasp. “I’ll do it myself.” He brings the crowbar down on the hit man’s knee－not the
other knee but the same one Yoongi had just destroyed.

“Give－me－a－fucking－name!”

Each word that Jungkook spits out is punctuated by another blow of the crowbar on the hit man’s
bloody knee. The man is screaming, twisting around in the chair, the metal legs screeching against
the concrete as he flails around, spittle flying out of his mouth.

Jungkook kicks him in the chest, sending him thudding backwards onto the floor, still tied to the
chair. He looms over him, placing a foot on his chest－and then brings the crowbar down on his
crotch. “Was it Jwi?” Jungkook roars. “Was it fucking Jwi who hired you?”

“YES!” the hit man sobs. “IT WAS JWI, IT WAS JWI, NOW FUCKING LET ME GO－”

“I don’t think so, motherfucker,” Jungkook grits out, raising the crowbar again. “You think you can
go after what’s mine? You think you can try to put your dirty fucking hands on him－”

“Boss!” Yoongi shouts and Jungkook looks up at him. “I need to talk to you outside. Now.”

Jungkook gives him a dangerous look and for a second, Yoongi wonders if Jungkook just might
take a swing at him with the crowbar. But then he throws it down onto the concrete floor with a
clatter and follows Yoongi outside the warehouse into the gathering dusk.

“With all due respect, boss,” Yoongi says, facing Jungkook, “but have you gone fucking insane?”

“Have you gone fucking soft?” Jungkook retorts. “I didn’t see you getting any answers from him,
tapping on his knee like it was a fucking xylophone.” He gives Yoongi a disgusted look. “Thank
fuck I stepped in and did your job for you because now we have a fucking name and－”
“Because you gave it to him!” Yoongi says heatedly. “Jesus fucking Christ, that’s basic
interrogation, boss, you never give any information away! Even snot-nosed rookie cops know
that!” He heaves a frustrated sigh. “That guy only told you what you wanted to hear so that
information is fucking tainted. We can’t rely on its accuracy and now we’re back to square one.”

“It’s Jwi,” Jungkook insists. “I know it is, we’re wasting our fucking time going after these hit
men, we should－”

“No, you don’t fucking know!” Yoongi says. “We can’t go after Jwi on a fucking hunch, boss, you
know that!”

They glare at each other for a few long seconds and then Jungkook looks away, his jaw clenched.
“Fuck,” he mutters.

Two weeks. It had taken Namjoon two fucking weeks to trace just one of the hit men using
security footage from the art gallery and now, thanks to Jungkook, they had to start all over again.

He’s not fit to lead the Yong Jegug, a voice whispers in his head, he’s volatile, unhinged, nothing
like his father, doesn’t deserve to be his heir－

Yoongi is seriously starting to wonder if the person who had once told him that had been right after
all.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “Go back inside and take care of him,” he
says, beginning to walk past Yoongi. “And then tell Namjoon to ramp up the search for the other
ones.”

“That’ll take a lot of time,” Yoongi says to Jungkook’s retreating back, “lotta time and resources
that could be spent－”

“Yoongi, that’s an order!”

But Yoongi is at his breaking point and he can’t keep it in any longer. “He’s just a whore, boss!”
he says loudly. “I really don’t see why he’s so import－”

Jungkook whirls around, fists his hands in Yoongi’s jacket and slams him back against the
warehouse. “You call him that again and I’ll cut your fucking dick off!” His eyes are wild, seething
with anger and Yoongi is slightly taken aback by how fucking scary he looks.

He braces himself for a blow to the face, an elbow in the stomach but Jungkook just shoves away
from him and walks back to the car without another word.

“You call him that all the time!” Yoongi shouts after him, exasperated and pissed off but Jungkook
doesn’t answer.

Yoongi lets his head fall back against the hard metal wall of the warehouse, closing his eyes and
taking a few seconds to compose himself. Then, he goes back inside to carry out Jungkook’s
orders.

***
Jungkook trudges down the hallway to his penthouse door, still brooding over what Yoongi had
said to him. As much as he hates to admit it, Yoongi was right－he had fucked up back in the
warehouse. But he was so desperate for answers, desperate for anything that would lead him to the
son of the bitch that was after Taehyung, that he had allowed his anger to cloud his judgment and
cost them the only lead they had managed to get so far.

A rookie mistake. If he had done something like that while his father was still the leader of the
Yong Jegug, Jungkook would probably have been nursing a broken wrist right now. If not worse.

He nods to the guards posted at the door, still including Jin and they bow respectfully back as he
opens the door and enters the penthouse. He’s not usually back this early so it’s a little bit odd to
see Taehyung sitting at the dining table and not waiting for him in the bedroom.

Taehyung looks up at him, frowning. “What are you doing here?”

“I fucking live here, Taehyung. I’m allowed to come and go as I please.”

“I know that,” Taehyung huffs, looking away from him again. “You’re just not usually back this
early.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, heading for his liquor cabinet. “I’ll be sure to send you a warning next
time, princess.”

“Please do,” Taehyung says sarcastically. “It takes a lot of mental preparation to be around
someone who’s so unpleasant.”

Jungkook chooses to ignore this jibe. Coming from Taehyung, it’s a pretty mild insult. Kid must be
off his game tonight or something.

He pours himself a glass of Jack Daniels, not bothering to offer Taehyung any. Out of the corner of
his eye, he can see Taehyung leaning over the dining table, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Then he notices the pieces of paper littered across the surface. “What the fuck are you doing,
anyway?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m painting.”

“Painting?” Jungkook scoffs, walking over to the table. “What are you in fucking kindergarten－”

But he stops when he sees the paintings.

Vibrant color blooms on the various pieces of paper, meticulous brushstrokes depicting various
objects and scenes: there’s a delicate-looking rose done in several different shades of red, so
realistic it looks like it would feel like velvet if Jungkook reached out a hand to stroke the painted
petals. A tiger lily with curling orange petals, dotted with little brown spots like freckles. Two
bluebirds nestled together on a branch, touches of pink on their cheeks and breasts. And then there
are the landscapes, one of a lush green forest and the other one of a beach, showing golden sand
and turquoise water.

He glances at the one Taehyung is currently preoccupied with, another beach landscape but this
time rendered at night, a bright glowing moon reflecting off the sapphire blue waves. He’s using
watercolors out of a cheap little kit, Jungkook realizes, the kind found in children’s schoolrooms,
right next to the modeling clay and the wax crayons. But the way he’s using them, blending them
so expertly, so effortlessly has rendered Jungkook speechless.

But he finds his voice after a few seconds to ask, “Did you just do all of these today?”
“Well, yeah,” Taehyung replies, not looking up from his painting. “I’ve got fuck all else to do.”

“Thought you were studying for your GED?”

Taehyung gives him a brief glance before looking back down at his beach landscape. “I am,” he
says testily, “but I’m mostly just revising at this point. I could take the exam any time but I need to
go to the testing center to do that and since the testing center is outside…” He trails off, falling
silent again.

Jungkook decides not to follow that thread of their conversation, instead pulling out a chair next to
Taehyung and sitting down, picking up the finished beach landscape and studying it more closely.
“Taehyung, these are…incredible.”

“Oh, give me a break,” Taehyung says. “What would a mob boss know about art?”

“More than you’d expect,” Jungkook says mildly. His hand hovers over the page, indicating the
water. “You layered your colors here, right? To make the water look deeper?”

“Uh, yeah I did,” Taehyung says, glancing up at him in surprise. A faint blush appears on his
cheeks. “How could you tell?”

Jungkook shrugs. “I had an expensive education. We were taught all the classical subjects,
philosophy, literature, art, things like that. Of course, we didn’t actually learn how to paint,” he
adds wryly, “just about theory and history, enough to know how to bullshit your way around stuffy
art snobs. And to recognize good technique.” He looks around at Taehyung’s paintings laid out on
the table. “And yours is really good.”

Taehyung puts his brush down, biting his lip as he casts a glance over the dining table, studying his
own paintings. “I’m a little rusty…” he says hesitantly. “It’s been a while since I’ve painted so－”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, don’t be so fucking modest. It doesn’t suit you.”

It’s true, Taehyung’s paintings are quite simple when it comes to subject matter, nothing
revolutionary or anything－but it’s their simplicity that makes them stand out, the attention to
detail so astonishing that Jungkook expects the bluebirds to start singing at any moment or the rose
to start wilting.

She probably would have liked them, he thinks.

“Where’d you learn how to paint like this?” Jungkook asks. “Someone must have taught you.”

Taehyung shifts uncomfortably in his chair, not saying anything and Jungkook sighs. “I asked you
a question, Taehyung."

Taehyung rubs his hand up and down his arm and when he speaks his voice is so quiet that the
words are nearly inaudible: “My mom.”

“Oh.” Jungkook taps his index finger against the beach landscape still in front of him. “She must
be talented herself.”

Taehyung nods mutely, staring down at his unfinished painting, arms crossed in front of his chest.
Jungkook can sense that Taehyung wants to change the subject so he casts around for something to
say.

“My father taught me how to shoot a gun when I was fifteen,” he hears himself saying. “Not as
artistic as this, of course, but a useful skill, I guess. Especially in my line of work.”

Taehyung glances at him, his expression wary. “That seems kind of young.”

“Maybe. But I was going to learn how sooner or later so I guess he figured sooner was better.” He
smiles grimly. “You could say he gave me a crash course in the use of firearms.”

“...crash course?”

“Well, he took a few minutes to show me the basics. How to load it, aim it, where the safety was.
A Glock 22, if I remember correctly.” Jungkook gazes at the beach scene Taehyung has painted,
not seeing it, his mind going back to that day. How heavy the gun had felt in his hand. “Then he
had a rival gang member brought in, some guy they had caught trying to break into one of our
warehouses. My father made him kneel down right in front of me.” Jungkook scratches
thoughtfully at his chin as he reminisces. “And then my father pointed his own gun at my head and
told me I had sixty seconds to shoot the man in front of me or I would end up being the one getting
a bullet in the head.”

“That is massively fucked up.”

Jungkook looks up at Taehyung, who is gaping at him, looking completely horrified. He frowns.
“It’s the way things are done, Taehyung. Every gang member has to go through an initiation of
some kind and that was mine.”

“So? Doesn’t make it any less fucked up.” Taehyung looks away, his jaw clenched. “God, to do
that to a child－”

And that’s when Jungkook realizes Taehyung isn’t horrified of him but for him. Or at least, for the
fifteen-year-old kid he had once been.

He’s a bit confused by Taehyung’s reaction. It’s the first time he’s told that story to someone
without being met with a guffaw of laughter or a smirk or a congratulatory slap on the back. But,
then again, he supposes it’s the first time he’s told that story to someone outside of the criminal
underworld, someone who comes from ‘normal’ society.

To do that to a child…

God, had he been one? A child? He hadn’t felt like one at the time, he hadn’t been naive about the
kind of work his father did, Jungkook had known for a long time that he was expected to follow in
his footsteps, take over the leadership of the Yong Jegug when the time came.

But he also remembers the way his hand had shook when he had been pointing the gun at that rival
gang member, his vision blurred with tears as the man kneeling in front of him pleaded with him
‘please don’t kill me, don’t kill me, please I’m begging you…’ He could see the barrel of his
father’s gun in his peripheral vision, aimed at his temple, his father’s voice calmly telling him how
much time he had left. ‘Forty-five seconds…thirty seconds…twenty seconds, Jungkook, come on
make a decision, it’s either him or you…’ At ten seconds, he had heard the distinctive click of the
safety being switched off on his father’s gun.

Ten…nine….eight…

Jungkook had fired on seven. He had just squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the trigger and there
had been a flash of searing light behind his eyelids, a noise like an explosion. And then the shock
of ringing silence and the acrid smell of gunsmoke.
Jungkook’s knees had been shaking, he had been swallowing back the bile rising in his throat,
trying not to puke his guts out all over the floor but his father had simply patted him on the
shoulder and congratulated him. Or at least, Jungkook thinks his father had congratulated him. It
had been a little hard to make out what he had been saying because Jungkook still couldn’t hear
properly.

That night, as a reward, his father had taken him to the Bird Cage for the first time and told him to
pick out a whore. Placed his arm around Jungkook’s shoulders and steered him around the cages,
pointing out the various attributes of each of the women inside. There had been one male whore on
the floor that night, a blonde blue-eyed twink decked out in silver satin but Jungkook had not dared
to even look at him, show any kind of interest. Male whores were a novelty, something to be
enjoyed of course but if you showed a preference for them over women, especially for your first
time…it was considered unnatural. Suspicious. And he knew, without even having to ask, that his
father wouldn’t allow it.

So he had picked out a woman at random, a pale-skinned whore with fake tits and wavy black hair
named Kandi. She had taken him to a room, and gotten him to lie down on the bed while she ran
her hands all over him, her red-varnished nails long and sharp, like claws. Kissing him with
crimson-painted lips, her tongue snaking into his mouth, nearly suffocating him. It had been his
very first kiss and it left him feeling so disgusted. Disgusted with himself and disgusted with her
and just disgusted with all of it.

And then she had unzipped his jeans, taking his cock out and he had been trying to push her hands
away, stammering that ‘No, she didn’t have to do that, really, she didn’t have to’ but she had just
smiled at him, showing all her teeth.

“It’s okay, baby, just relax, Kandi’s going to make you feel so good, I promise…oh wow, honey,
look how big you are, gonna feel so good inside me…”

Then she had straddled him, riding his cock, throwing her head back and moaning theatrically, her
fake tits bouncing, and Jungkook hadn’t known where to look or what to do with his hands so she
had taken them and placed them on her jiggling tits while she rode him until he came, Kandi
writhing around on top of him, her own orgasm clearly faked. Jungkook had been so nervous and
embarrassed and so not ready that he just wanted it to be over. The entire time he had been having
sex with her he had just wanted it to be over.

But at least the physical release had made him temporarily forget what he had done earlier that day.

Afterwards, his father had brought him back home, walking into the living room where his mother
had been sitting on the sofa, reading a novel and drinking a glass of wine. She had glanced up at
him as they came in but Jungkook stared down at his feet, too ashamed of himself to even look at
her.

“Our son’s a man now,” his father said jovially, clapping Jungkook on the back. Then he chuckled.
“In more ways than one.”

Cold silence greeted this announcement and Jungkook could feel the quiet rage emanating from his
mother, knowing that if he looked up, her face would be set in a neutral expression but her eyes
would be burning with barely-withheld anger.

“Is that so?” she said coolly after a few eternal seconds. Then she had gotten up and walked swiftly
from the room.

“Oh, Nami, come on,” his father said, going after her. “Don’t be like that, I can explain…”
Jungkook had escaped to his bedroom but he could still hear his parents yelling at each other, his
mother’s wrath invading the entire house.

“How dare you!” she screamed. “How dare you do that to our son! He’s just a boy－”

“He’s not a boy, Nami, he hasn’t been one for a while, you just coddle him too much, he needs to
grow up－”

“You promised!” she shrieked. “You promised me you would wait until he was older, that you
would give him a choice－”

“I did give him a choice!” his father yelled back. “I did give him a choice, Nami, I gave him the
exact same choice my father gave me－”

“What kind of choice is that!” his mother howled. “For the love of god, Yongsun, what kind of a
choice is that!”

But for all his mother’s outrage, her protectiveness, her attempts to save him, his father had
ultimately won that battle, cementing Jungkook as his rightful heir from that day on.

He became the Yong Jegug’s executioner. Anytime a rival needed to be eliminated, or a disloyal
soldier needed to be ‘taken care of,’ Jungkook was there with his Glock to put them underground,
blood spatter and brains smeared on concrete becoming an everyday occurrence for him. Doing it
again and again and again until he no longer flinched or blinked when the gun went off, until his
hand no longer shook as he pointed it at someone’s head, ready to end their life.

And his father kept rewarding him with trips to the Bird Cage, and after a while, Jungkook actually
began to look forward to them until he started going there of his own accord. Having sex with
whores and getting off was the ultimate distraction, the physical pleasure providing a temporary
relief from the blood and the violence and the constant chaos that now resided in his mind. Going
there again and again and again until the whores became mere bodies, things for him to use and he
grew bolder with them, telling them exactly what he wanted, how he wanted them to move.

Although he never once used Kandi again. She had left the Bird Cage at some point in the
intervening years and Jungkook still doesn’t know what happened to her. Doesn’t care what
happened to her.

His life became very simple. Enemies were there to be killed and whores were there to be used.

And Jungkook knows, without a doubt, that if he came across the snivelling fifteen-year old he had
once been, he would put a bullet through the kid’s brain, with no remorse whatsoever. Wonders if
maybe that’s exactly what he had done on that day over ten years ago.

“Your father,” Taehyung says now, bringing Jungkook out of his memories, “what happened to
him?”

“He’s dead,” Jungkook says shortly. “Both my parents are.”

“Oh.” Taehyung is quiet for a few seconds and Jungkook thinks that’s the end of it but then he
whispers, “I’m sorry.”

And Taehyung’s words are like a punch in the gut because they sound sincere. The kid sounds like
he actually means it. Is it possible Taehyung…pities him?

Jungkook bristles at the thought. He doesn’t need Taehyung’s pity or condolences or soft, kind
words. Jungkook was given a choice and he made it, wouldn’t change anything about it…would
he?

Well, what the fuck does he know about it? Jungkook thinks savagely. What would he know about
anything, like Yoongi said, he’s just a whore.

And whores are there to be used…

“Taehyung, go to the bedroom and put the plug in,” Jungkook says wearily, not looking at him.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Um, what?” Taehyung says, sounding startled. “But I didn’t think－”

“Taehyung, just do as I say. Go put the plug in.”

He can feel Taehyung staring at him but Jungkook keeps his eyes down, looking at Taehyung’s
paintings. “Fine,” he huffs, the chair scraping against the floor as he pushes back and gets to his
feet. He heads to the bedroom without another word.

Jungkook sighs, picking up Taehyung’s unfinished painting, the one of the sea underneath the glow
of the moonlight, wishing he could step inside and disappear into it.

Taehyung clutches at the sheets as Jungkook fucks him from behind, vaguely feeling the pleasure
of Jungkook’s cock stimulating his prostate but he can’t quite lose himself to the sensation because
his mind is elsewhere, thinking about what Jungkook had told him in the dining room.

He had assumed that Jungkook had been born evil, had ascended from hell to wreak havoc on the
world, a cold-blooded killer from day one. But to be forced into murder like that and at such a
young age…

If someone had pointed a gun at Taehyung and said either kill or be killed, what would he have
done? Who’s to say he wouldn’t have made the same choice? Maybe, born under different
circumstances, he would have become a murderer too, as heartless and cruel as Jungkook.

And Jungkook didn’t have his parents anymore either. It was kind of disturbing, finding out he had
that in common with the crime boss. Can’t believe that he actually feels…sorry for him, in a way.
Because he knows what it’s like to not have a family, to have them ripped away from you.

Then again, with a father like that, maybe Jungkook was glad he was dead. Taehyung certainly
would be. But Jungkook hadn’t said anything about his mother…

As he feels his orgasm building inside him, Taehyung wonders if monsters aren’t in fact born, but
made.

***
The next day, Jungkook is in yet another meeting with his inner circle when he receives a phone
call from Jin.

“Yeah, Jin, what is it?” he says, stepping away from the table where his men are busy discussing
ways of tracking down the other hit men.

“Um, Taehyung has requested that I take him out somewhere today…he’s saying that it’s really
important…”

“For fuck’s sake, what could possibly be so important? Where does he want to go?”

“Well, first he wants to stop off at a flower shop－”

“A flower shop?” Jungkook says incredulously. “No, no fucking way, tell him absolutely not－”

“－and then he’d like to be taken to the Tranquility Gardens cemetery.”

That shuts Jungkook up. He gnaws at his lip, considering. It’d be easy to just say no and deal with
the consequences of a pissed-off Taehyung later but the kid hadn’t been outside in two entire weeks
so the people who were trying to find him had probably lost track of him and wouldn’t be prepared
to try to snatch him away on such a random outing like this.

And no one decides to go to a cemetery just to wander around. Taehyung must have a pretty solid
reason for wanting to go there today, if he’s willing to risk his safety for it.

“All right, fine,” Jungkook says after a few more seconds of deliberation. “But you bring one of the
other guards along, have him use a separate car, just in case. And you make it fast, Jin, don’t let
Taehyung linger anywhere and no detours or little side trips, understand? You take him to those
two places and then you take him straight back to the penthouse.”

“Yes, boss.”

Taehyung steps out of the SUV, a bouquet of flowers clutched in one hand, his paintings from
yesterday held tightly in the other. He’s dressed up for the occasion, wearing the green floral coat
Jungkook had bought him all those weeks ago, the one he figures she would like. He looks around
the cemetery, trying to remember in what area she had been buried in. It’s been a while since he’s
been to see her. Then he spots the willow tree and remembers she had a spot a few rows in front of
it.

He heads toward the gate and Jin moves to follow him. “Oh, no, Jin, please stay here,” he says. “I
just want a few minutes, I’ll be right back.”

Jin gives him an apologetic look. “I’m not supposed to leave you on your own, Taehyung-ssi. I’m
sorry.”

“Please, hyung.” Taehyung hates the desperation in his voice but he just wants to be alone with
her, without the presence of a bodyguard or anyone else. “Please.”

Jin studies him for a few seconds, his eyes clouded with indecision and then he sighs. “All right,
but stay where I can see you, okay?”

“I will, I’ll just be over there,” he says, gesturing in the direction of the willow tree. “I’ll be right
back, I promise.”

Jin nods soberly, leaning back against the SUV and Taehyung enters through the gate, making his
way over to the row of headstones in front of the willow tree. As he walks, scanning the names, he
wonders briefly if Jungkook’s parents are buried here too.

And then he sees her name, Kim Mi Sun, and all other thoughts scatter from his brain.

He kneels down in front of her headstone, inclining his head in a bow. “Happy birthday, eomma,”
he says softly. He lays the flowers down by the headstone, along with the pictures he painted,
pinning them down with a nearby stone. “I painted these for you.”

He knows that the pictures won’t stay there forever, that the stone will come loose and they’ll fly
off into the wind but for now, they’re here and they’re hers. And he thinks she probably would
have been delighted with the idea of paintings being tossed into the sky, lit up by the sun instead of
cooped up inside.

“Sorry I haven’t been to see you in a while,” he whispers. “I would say that I’ve been busy, but I
know that’s no excuse.”

He feels guilty about that. But his job at the coffee shop had been on the other side of the city so he
could very rarely afford to make the bus trip out here. But he always made sure to at least try to see
her on special occasions. On either Christmas or New Year’s or on Mother’s Day. And even if he
couldn’t make it on those days, for whatever reason, he always made sure to save up for a bus
ticket to be with her on her birthday.

He’s just glad Jungkook allowed Jin to take him out today. If he had said no, Taehyung would
have come anyways, would have fought off Jungkook’s guards with his bare hands if that’s what it
took. But the crime boss had been uncharacteristically indulgent today and Taehyung’s thankful he
hadn’t needed to resort to physical violence in order to come see her.

“I miss you, eomma,” he says, feeling his throat tighten. “I miss you so much…”

She had been the only person he had ever loved and she had been the only person that had ever
loved him. He had never known his father, some deadbeat who had gotten her pregnant and then
left her all alone in Seoul, too much of a coward to deal with the consequences of his own actions,
too selfish to stay and help her raise a child. And she had been cut off from her family, estranged
from them because they were traditional, strict, more concerned with upholding the ‘family honor’
than caring for a daughter who got pregnant outside of wedlock.

So it had just been the two of them and they had been the happiest days of Taehyung’s life.

It hadn’t always been easy, of course. She had had to work six days a week just to support them,
just to be able to afford the rent on their tiny one-bedroom apartment. So if he wasn’t at school, he
was being looked after by their next-door neighbor, a kindly old lady named Mrs. Cho or at the
coffee shop with his mother, sitting quietly at a table with his crayons and some paper while she
served coffee to the patrons and brought him the occasional pastry or juice box.

He hadn’t had a lot of friends at school either, sometimes coming home crying because the other
kids made fun of him for his thrift-store clothing and not knowing who Sailor Moon or Goku was
because they didn’t have a TV and he couldn’t watch the shows that all the other kids watched.

But she soothed him as best she could, cradling him in her lap as he sobbed, telling him not to
listen to them, that being the same as everyone else wasn’t a good thing anyways.

You are special, my Taehyungie, and not everyone’s going to understand that but you’ll find people
who will one day, I promise, please don’t cry…

She had tried to make things better for him, taking him to the library, escaping into the picture
books with him, doing her best to put on different voices for the various characters while she read
him the stories, a light, angelic voice for the princesses in all the fairy tales, and a gravelly, rough
voice for the troll in the Three Billy Goats Gruff.

But it was when they were painting or drawing together that Taehyung felt the happiest. She loved
painting flowers and songbirds, things out of nature that they saw in the park she always took him
to. She taught him to draw and paint by teaching him to really see things and appreciate their
beauty－the shimmering ripple of a pond, the iridescence of a dragonfly’s wing. She had rendered
all these things with such effortless skill, making everything come alive with colored pencils and
inexpensive paints, that, for the longest time, Taehyung had believed that she had magical powers,
like an enchantress from one of the fairy tales she read to him.

That was how they spent the majority of their limited time together, his mother spending her one
day off to take him to the park to play or just to sit there and draw or spend entire days painting at
their tiny kitchen table when winter came and it was too cold to go outside. Just the two of them,
cozy and close in their little creative bubble.

But, occasionally, there were days when his mother needed to spend her day off in bed, too
exhausted to get up, catching up on her sleep. On those days, Taehyung would occupy himself with
his artwork, painting his mother’s favorite things before crawling into bed with her to show her.

I painted this for you, eomma…

Thank you, Taehyungie, it’s beautiful, I love it…

As he had entered his teen years, she had needed to take more and more of her days off to
recuperate and Taehyung would make her tea, cook her some ramen and paint more pictures for
her. She always insisted that he fussed over her, that she was fine and just needed to rest, she’d be
better next week, they could maybe go out to the park or spend all day painting, she just needed her
rest today…

And then that morning had come when he was fifteen years old, making tea for her before she
went to work and before he headed to school and it seemed to be taking longer for her than usual to
get up and get ready and Taehyung had called ‘hurry, eomma, you’re going to be late!’ And then
he had heard that awful, echoing thump coming from the bedroom and had rushed in to find her
sprawled on the floor, unconscious and breathing shallowly, her lips pale.

She had spent her last days in a hospital bed, surrounded by stark white walls and crisp white bed
sheets, not a drop of colour to be found.

Tears slide down Taehyung’s cheeks as he stares at her headstone, reaching out a hand to trace his
fingers over her name. “I love you, eomma,” he whispers, “and if you’re in a place right now where
you can see me…” He takes a deep shuddering breath before going on, “…don’t look, okay? I d-
don’t want you to s-see me l-like this.”

Grief washes over him, swallowing him whole and he slouches forward until his face is touching
the ground, fisting his hands in the grass, screaming his anguish into the dirt. He’ll never see her
again, never hear her laugh or watch her beautiful hands hold a paintbrush and he would give all
the money he has, all the money in the world for just five more minutes with her.

Please, just five more minutes…

But he’s already learned the futility of wishing for impossible things so he straightens up,
composing himself, touching a hand to his lips before pressing it to her name. Then he stands up,
brushing off his coat and heads toward the cemetery gate without looking back.

Jin watches anxiously as Taehyung approaches the car, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen. He
doesn’t say anything as Jin opens the back door for him, stays silent when Jin climbs into the front
seat and starts the ignition.

“You want to pick up some food on the way home, Taehyung-ssi?” Jin asks him, looking at him in
the rearview mirror. “I know this place that does really amazing bibimbap－”

“No, thanks, Jin,” Taehyung gasps out, swiping a hand across his face. “I just want to get back to
the penthouse.”

They drive home in silence and every time Jin glances at Taehyung through the rearview mirror,
he can see tears coursing steadily down his face.

***

Jungkook strides down the hallway towards his penthouse, glowering at the guards pacing up and
down the corridor and they press themselves back against the wall, inclining their heads in hasty
bows. He’s in a foul mood. They had talked themselves in circles this afternoon, trying to work out
how to find the other hit men and, what was more infuriating, Taehyung hadn’t sent back a
confirmation text when Jungkook had messaged him earlier about when he would be home, what
lingerie he wanted Taehyung to wear for him. For fuck’s sake was it really so hard for the kid to
text back a fucking peach emoji?

He nods curtly at Jin who is standing right beside the door as he keys in the code on the security
lock. “Namjoon will be here in a few minutes and then you can take off, Jin.”
“Thanks, boss,” Jin says, bowing respectfully. And then he adds, “Um, boss?”

“Hmm?” Jungkook says, his hand on the door handle.

“Maybe…give him a break tonight?”

Jungkook stiffens and turns his head slowly to stare at Jin, glaring at him. Jin drops his gaze,
looking at the floor.

“Careful, Jin,” Jungkook says coldly. “It’s not part of your job to tell me what to do with my little
fuck toy. Is that understood?”

Jin nods, still staring at the ground. “Yes, boss,” he mutters.

“I wouldn’t go falling in love with him either, you know. Because he’s nothing but a manipulative
little whore and the only reason I keep him around is because he’s good at taking dick.”

Jin winces but Jungkook doesn’t care if what he’s saying makes him uncomfortable. He’s not
going to allow anyone to tell him what to do or what not to do with Taehyung or how to treat him.
And the sooner Jin gets over his stupid little crush on Taehyung, the better. Because Taehyung
belongs to him and him alone.

Without another word to Jin, Jungkook enters the penthouse, slamming the door behind him. He
marches straight towards the bedroom, ready to give Taehyung the pounding of his life, punish the
little whore for ignoring his text messages. A small voice whispers that Taehyung was at the
cemetery today, maybe Jin was right, maybe he should give the kid a break tonight－but he
immediately crushes the thought. He’s paying Taehyung for his services, quite handsomely, and if
the kid has had a bad day or wasn’t in the mood or didn’t feel like it, well, that was too fucking
bad, wasn’t it? He knew what he was signing up for when he agreed to become Jungkook’s
exclusive escort.

He pushes open the bedroom door to find Taehyung lying in the dark, curled up under the covers
of the bed, lights from the city outside shining in through the window. Jungkook steps toward the
bed, looming over Taehyung, staring down at him.

“That’s not how I told you to wait for me,” he says quietly. He reaches out a hand and slowly
draws the covers back from Taehyung, revealing his naked body, still curled up into a ball. He sits
down beside him, leaning over him and skims his mouth over Taehyung’s hip, scraping his teeth
along his skin. “Do I need to punish you, Taehyung?” he rasps. “Is that what you want?”

“Just make it quick, okay?”

Jungkook’s head jerks up at the sound of Taehyung’s voice, hollow and choked with tears. He
peers at Taehyung through the darkness, the lights from outside picking up the silvery tracks
staining his cheeks and his hands are gripping his pillow, holding onto it tightly as if he’s bracing
himself for some sort of torture.

Jungkook gets to his feet, stepping away, his mind splitting into two different scenarios as he stares
down at Taehyung. In the first one, he sees himself pushing Taehyung down onto his stomach,
fucking him as he cries into the pillow, taking what’s rightfully his. In the second scenario, he sees
himself climbing into bed with Taehyung, putting his arms around him and holding him close,
soothing him with quiet words and wiping the tears from his face.

And it scares Jungkook, right down to the core of his being, which scenario he’s leaning towards.
So in the end, he doesn’t do either. Without another word to Taehyung, he leaves the penthouse
and goes down to his car, one of his guards scrambling to open the back door for him.

“Take me to the Bird Cage,” he snarls at his driver.

Jungkook walks around the main floor of the Bird Cage, hands in his pockets, casually observing
the whores on display. The chandeliers high above cast an ethereal golden glow over the cages and
the whores sitting inside. There’s Yugyeom, who he’s fucked before and who actually knows how
to give a proper blowjob. But maybe he should use a woman tonight instead. Something different,
something he hasn’t experienced in a while.

He has every right to be here, he tells himself. If Taehyung’s not able or willing to do the job
Jungkook hired him for, he’s going to find a whore who will. There was nothing in that contract
about Jungkook being exclusive, anyways. It was only Taehyung who needed to abide by that rule,
Jungkook could still fuck whoever he wanted.

He approaches Jasmine’s cage, a particular favorite of his, a whore he had enjoyed quite frequently
before he bought Taehyung because she was good at her job and he suspected that she actually
liked having sex with him. Being fucked by him was probably a nice change of pace for her,
considering the much older men she usually had to service.

“Hi, Mr. Jeon,” she purrs as he comes to a halt in front of her cage. She’s dressed in a lacy black
teddy and stockings, wearing a red silk robe over the ensemble, one side of it slipping off her
shoulder. She perches on the swing, spreading her legs invitingly. “It’s been a while since you’ve
come to see me. You wanna have some fun?”

He nods and she hops off the swing, coming over to him and pulling a small silver key out of her
bodice and handing it to him through the bars of the cage. It was one of Hobi’s novel ideas, having
the whores hand their keys to their buyers so the men would be given that extra ego boost, that the
beautiful woman in front of them was choosing to sleep with them, wanted to. But Jungkook, as
part-owner of the Cage, also knew that any whore who tried to refuse a buyer was swiftly dealt
with. Because Hobi had keys to all the cages too. So it wasn’t really a choice at all for them,
merely the illusion of it.

He slides the key into the lock and opens the door, holding out a hand and helping her step down
from her cage onto the floor. She beams up at him, her lips set in a simpering pout, fluttering her
false lashes at him. “Where ya been, honey? It’s been so long since you’ve come here.” She
reaches up and traces a hand over his chest, giving him a teasing smile. “It’s okay, though, we’re
gonna have a lot of fun tonight, aren’t we? I’m already aching for you, Mr. Jeon…”

He stares blankly down at her. She’s beautiful and alluring and sexy, her peaked nipples showing
through the lace of the bodice. And she’ll let him kiss her, if he wants. Jasmine won’t deny him
anything, she’ll let him do whatever he wants.

But she’s not Taehyung.

Jasmine giggles, patting him on the chest. “Why don’t you have a seat at the bar, honey, while I go
get a room ready for us?” She turns to leave. “Won’t be long－”

“Jasmine, wait.”

She stops, looking back at him, a tiny frown on her face. “Um, what is it?” Then she grins again.
“Ooh, do you have a special request? Something you want me to put on for you?”

“No, it’s not that.” Jungkook pulls out his wallet and opens it, taking out a wad of bills. “This
should be enough to cover your quota for the night, I think,” he says, handing the money to her.
“Just…go get some rest, okay? Relax and take the night off.”

She blinks down at the money in her hand then looks back up at him, clearly confused. “Um, I’m
not sure－”

“Trust me, it’s okay,” he says, chucking her gently under the chin. “Just go back to your room. Get
some rest.”

“Um…okay…”

Jungkook doesn’t wait to see what she does, he just heads over to the bar and collapses heavily onto
a stool, waving the bartender over and requesting a whiskey on the rocks.

He sighs, pulling out his cigarettes and lighter from his jacket pocket. All those whores waiting
behind him, ready to be fucked and he only wants the one back at home. When did he become so
fucking monogamous?

He goes to light up but then a memory flashes through his mind, something Taehyung had once
said to him.

Kissing you would be like licking a fucking ashtray.

Grumbling, he stows his cigarettes back in his jacket. Now he can’t even smoke without feeling
fucking guilty about it. And it’s not like Taehyung is going to allow Jungkook to kiss him.

Whatever. He’s been thinking about quitting anyways. His mother had never liked the habit either.

He sips moodily at his drink, thinking he’ll just go ahead and get hopelessly drunk when he hears a
voice beside him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

He looks around to see Jimin glaring at him, still wearing his lingerie for the night, a fuchsia silk
robe thrown over top.

“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” he snaps. “I’m drinking.”

Jimin scowls at him but then a look of excitement sparks in his eyes. “Ooh, drowning our sorrows,
are we?” he says, coming to stand beside him, leaning against the bar. “Did Taehyung finally run
away from you?” He smirks. “I told him to, you know. I told him to run far, far away. And I’m
guessing he has, judging by that sad sorry look on your face.”

“Well, you’d be wrong,” Jungkook says stiffly. “He’s waiting at home for me right now, as a
matter of fact.”

Taehyung curled into a tiny ball under the blanket, silent and unmoving as Jungkook pulls the
covers off of him.
 “I don’t think he’s planning on running away just yet because he loves the way I fuck him. Can’t
get enough, he’s always begging for my dick.”

Taehyung’s hands clutching the pillow, tears streaming down his face.

“He lets me do whatever the fuck I want to him.”

‘Just make it quick, okay?’

“Liar,” Jimin says softly. “He hates you, I just know it.” He tilts his head, that infuriating smirk
still on his lips. “Because who wouldn’t hate you, Jungkook? Who wouldn’t loathe the most
despicable person on the face of the earth?”

“Fuck off, Jimin.”

But Jimin leans in close, placing a hand on his arm and squeezing hard, putting his lips to
Jungkook’s ear. “I hope he kills you, you son of a bitch,” he whispers. “I hope he smothers you
with a pillow while you’re sleeping. Or, better yet, I hope he gets a hold of your gun and blows
your fucking brains out.”

Then Jimin pulls back, sauntering away without another word.

Jungkook stares into his glass of whiskey, his thoughts full of Taehyung, how broken and afraid he
had sounded tonight. How Jungkook had wanted nothing more than to slip into bed beside him and
hold him in his arms.

Chapter End Notes

I couldn't find a line in Chapter Six that would make for a good preview without
spoiling anything so I'll give a more vague idea instead:

In the next chapter, Taehyung brings some much-needed colour to Jungkook's

penthouse and some questions finally get answered...

Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)

And, wow your guys' theories! There have been quite a few and I gotta say there are a
lot of people who are either on the right track or bang on! Keep 'em coming!

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 Chapter 6
Chapter Summary

Taehyung brings some much-needed colour to Jungkook's penthouse and some

questions get answered...

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Jungkook stays at Namjoon’s apartment over the next few days, sleeping in his guest room. It’s
just because it’s more convenient right now, his apartment is in the same building as Yoongi’s so it
saves Jungkook time when he’s going to and from their daily meetings. It’s definitely not because
he wants to give Taehyung some space.

He gets the occasional update from Jin but, other than that, he doesn’t call or text Taehyung
himself. Doesn’t see the need to and what would he say to the kid anyway?

But he still dreams about him every night, awful recurring nightmares where Taehyung is locked in
his cage, swinging out over a black abyss and Jungkook is standing on a ledge right in front of him
and Taehyung is beating his hands against the bars of the cage, screaming at Jungkook to help him,
to let him out. And Jungkook is searching frantically for the key, checking his pockets, looking
everywhere for it, telling Taehyung to just hold on and when he finally finds it, sitting in the palm
of his hand the entire time, he looks up just in time to see the cage drop away into the darkness,
Taehyung crying out his name as he falls down, down, down into the pit.

He always wakes up drenched in sweat, gasping out Taehyung’s name.

It’s only when Namjoon says to him one morning, “Um…you having trouble sleeping, boss?” that
Jungkook decides it’s time for him to return to the penthouse. And, considering the fact that it’s
Friday today and Jungkook had just deposited another five thousand dollars into Taehyung’s bank
account, it seems kind of stupid to be paying for a service that he’s not even using. Who knows?
Maybe Taehyung would welcome a visit from him, maybe he was as pent up and horny as
Jungkook and was craving a good dicking.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

When he gets back to his building and makes his way down the hallway to the penthouse, he
frowns as he hears the boom of music coming from inside.

“What the fuck is he doing?” he asks Jin.

“Painting,” Jin says casually, staring straight ahead. “Just keeping himself occupied, I suppose.”

“Okay…” There’s a strange expression on Jin’s face. It’s as if he’s trying to keep himself from
smiling. But Jungkook’s too impatient to see Taehyung to stop and ask Jin to let him in on the joke.
So instead he just lets himself in, slamming the door behind him－and immediately stops in his
tracks.

Taehyung is on the other side of the living area, facing away from him and rolling bright green
paint onto the previously white wall. He’s dressed in an oversized tee shirt and boxer shorts,
vaguely bopping his head to the music blaring out of the speakers.

Jungkook whirls around, taking in the rest of the penthouse. The wall by the kitchen is painted a
vivid sky blue and the wall right next to it is now a rich shade of plum. His once tasteful
penthouse, decorated in muted shades of white and grey was now a riot of clashing colours.

Seething, he turns to glare at Taehyung who still hasn’t noticed him come in. Jungkook storms
over to the speaker on the hall table and slams his hand down on the power button. “What
the fuck?” he roars.

Taehyung jumps a little and then turns to look at him over his shoulder. “Oh, hey,” he says
carelessly. Then he goes right back to rolling the green paint on his wall, completely ignoring him.

Jungkook strides up to him, hands on his hips. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Taehyung says, not even sparing him a glance. There are spots
of green paint along his hands and arms and even a little patch on his cheek.

“It looks like you’re painting my walls. I didn’t give you fucking permission to do that!”

“Okay, first of all,” Taehyung says, finally turning to face him, “you are never fucking here so
what do you care what colour the fucking walls are? Second of all, I have to be here all the fucking
time since I can’t even go outside anymore and I am sick of staring at boring white walls. I feel
like I’m in a fucking mental institution.”

“You belong in a fucking mental institution,” Jungkook snarls.

“So have me committed to one then,” Taehyung retorts. “I’d probably prefer it to this place, I
imagine I’d actually get to go outside for once.”

Jungkook holds out his hand for the paint roller. “Taehyung, you give me that. Now.”

“Fuck off,” Taehyung mutters, turning away and touching the roller to the wall again.

“You might as well, I’m just going to hire someone to paint over it.”

“Go right ahead. I’ll paint over it again.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yes, I will,” Taehyung snaps. He scowls at Jungkook, his eyes blazing with that bright fire. “Have
it painted white as many times as you want, I’ll just paint over it again! You think I don’t have the
fucking time? I’ll paint it every colour of the fucking rainbow before I resign myself to living with
white fucking walls!”

Taehyung’s voice rises to a near-hysterical pitch and for a second all Jungkook can do is stare at
him. Then he makes a grab for the roller. “For fuck’s sake, give me that.”

“No!”

They tussle over the paint roller, Taehyung putting up more of a fight than Jungkook expects and,
just when he thinks he’s about to wrench it from Taehyung’s grip, the edge of the roller ends up
knocking against Jungkook’s cheek and he feels paint smear against his face.

Taehyung lets out a derisive laugh as Jungkook grimaces, letting go of the roller and swiping at the
paint with the back of his hand. “Well, look at that. You should wear green more often, it really
suits you.”

“Oh, really?” Jungkook places his hand against the wet wall and then tugs Taehyung forward by
his tee shirt, yanking the neck of it down and smearing paint all over his chest and collarbone.
“Can’t say the same for you, princess. I think I prefer you in pink. Like those little lace panties I
bought for you? I’ll have you wear them tonight when I fuck you in the bedroom while I get some
painters out here to－”

Taehyung lets out a squeal of indignation and then presses the roller against Jungkook, rolling it
over his chest, getting green paint all over his shirt and jacket.

Jungkook freezes, looking down at himself, at the green paint all over his Tom Ford suit, his
Armani shirt. “You did not just do that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Taehyung says in mock innocence, pretending to pout. “Was that an expensive
suit?”

“You little fucking brat!” Jungkook grabs Taehyung, crushing him against his body. “You wanna
get fucking messy, baby doll?” he snarls in his face. “Okay, let’s get fucking messy.”

He hooks his foot around Taehyung’s ankle, causing him to trip backwards and they go crashing
down onto the floor, the paint roller flying out of Taehyung’s hand. His other hand has fisted in
Jungkook’s hair on the way down, trying to keep his balance, giving it a sharp tug and Jungkook
snarls, knocking his arm away before he gets his own hands on Taehyung’s boxer shorts, yanking
them down Taehyung’s legs.

“You miss me, baby boy?” Jungkook taunts, kneeling on the floor and giving his own fingers a
quick suck, coating them with saliva. “That why you pick a fight as soon as I walk in, you’re so
eager for ‘Daddy’ to come home and fuck you? Give you his cock?”

“You fucker!” Taehyung spits out. “Like I’d ever miss－” But his sentence ends on a startled groan
as Jungkook thrusts a slicked-up finger inside him.

“I think you did miss me,” Jungkook rasps, roughly moving his finger in and out of Taehyung’s
hole. “I think you’ve been missing the way I can make you come. I think you’ve been fucking
aching for my cock.”

Taehyung shakes his head, whimpering as Jungkook inserts a second finger, his breathing erratic.

“No? You sure, baby doll?” Jungkook moves his fingers faster, fucking him open, nothing gentle
at all about his movements. “Then how come your cock is hard right now, Taehyung? Is ‘Daddy’
making you feel good? Do his fingers feel good in your tight little fuckhole?”

Taehyung gives his head another emphatic shake, his eyes squeezed shut but Jungkook can see the
way he’s biting his lip, feel the way his hips are moving, fucking down on Jungkook’s fingers. It’s
one of the hottest things he’s ever witnessed, seeing Taehyung’s cock arched and leaking against
his stomach, watching his body move against his hand of its own accord, unable to help himself.
Taehyung can deny it all he wants but the evidence of his arousal, his lust, is laid right out there on
Jungkook’s floor for him to see. Once Jungkook fucks him, it should be easy to get a verbal
confirmation out of him.

His own craving for Taehyung is reaching a fever pitch, the need to be inside him so intense that
his desire seems to pulse throughout his entire body, his cock trapped and straining against the
fabric of his trousers. He undoes his fly with one hand, allowing his cock to spring free, continuing
to fuck Taehyung open with his fingers. With one smooth motion, he grabs one of Taehyung’s legs
and throws it over his shoulder, turning him sideways, holding Taehyung’s thigh against his chest
as he removes his fingers, swiftly replacing them with his cock as he fucks into Taehyung with a
grunt.

Taehyung cries out, his head thrown back as Jungkook sets a furious pace, one hand digging into
the flesh of Taehyung’s thigh, the other hand gripping his hip, holding him in place as he thrusts
mercilessly into him.

“You like being fucked like this?” Jungkook growls. “You like being thrown on the floor and used
like a little fuck doll, Taehyung? Hmm? Like it when I punish you with my cock?”

Taehyung’s only reply is a garbled moan, lying on his side as Jungkook fucks him, his hands fisted
in his own oversized tee shirt, hiking it up, exposing his soft stomach, his golden skin coated in the
green paint Jungkook had smeared on him. His cheeks are flushed cherry red, pink lips parted as he
moans at every thrust, eyes still squeezed shut as his hard cock slaps repeatedly against his
stomach. And Jungkook wonders why he ever fucked Taehyung from behind when he could have
been feasting his eyes on such an erotic sight as this.

It spurs Jungkook on to fuck him even harder and Taehyung flails, arching his back and one of his
hands comes up, locking around Jungkook’s wrist, as if he’s holding on for dear life. It’s the first
time Taehyung has touched him during sex.

God, I missed you, he almost blurts out. Missed you so much.

“God, I missed fucking you,” he says instead, the words coming out in a harsh whisper and he’s
not sure Taehyung can hear him. “Missed fucking this tight little hole of yours, missed wrecking
you with my cock－”

Taehyung’s hand tightens on his wrist and then he convulses, voice raised in a wail as cum shoots
out of his cock in thick, white spurts, coating his stomach and the sight alone is enough to push
Jungkook over the edge, a huge shudder wracking his entire body as he spills inside Taehyung.

“Holy fuck.”

They remain on the floor, both of them panting with exhaustion, Jungkook still holding Taehyung’s
thigh against his chest. His leg is covered in paint now where it pressed against Jungkook’s ruined
suit.

Taehyung’s eyes flutter open and he looks up at Jungkook through his lashes, looking completely
fucked out, almost dazed as if he doesn’t know where he is. Jungkook stares back at him, his chest
heaving and for a few spellbound seconds they just look at each other, neither one of them moving.

Taehyung frowns slightly, his eyes roving over Jungkook’s face－and then he makes a small
snorting sound. He covers his mouth, trying to stifle it but then he takes his hand away as he lets
out a great whoop of laughter, his entire body shaking with hysterics.

“You look so fucking s-stupid,” he splutters. “You have p-paint in your hair－”

“You’re covered in paint too,” Jungkook points out. He does not find Taehyung’s laugh adorable.
He does not.

“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?” Taehyung says, grinning cheekily at him.
Oh god, that smile. It dazzles him, nearly blinding him and Jungkook feels a weird sort of stutter in
his chest. As if a tiny electric shock just went through him.

Taehyung gazes up at him, a softer quality to his smile now. But then he blinks, his smile fading
and he glances away, clearing his throat. “I’d like to go take a shower now,” he mumbles. “Please.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says absently. “Sure.”

Taehyung looks back at him, his face uncertain and that’s when Jungkook realizes that his cock is
still inside of Taehyung. He carefully pulls out of him, both of them groaning from the sensitivity
and he allows Taehyung’s leg to fall from his shoulder.

Taehyung gets up, snatching up his boxer shorts and hurries past Jungkook, not looking at him as
he heads for the bedroom. Jungkook watches him go, noticing that there’s a smeared handprint of
green paint on his buttcheek. He doesn’t even know how that happened.

Jungkook braces his hands on his knees, letting out a long exhale, looking around at the brightly-
painted walls. And now there’s paint on his floor too where the roller was lying. He sighs. Where’s
a cleanup crew when you need them?

He glances in the direction of his bedroom, hesitates for a second and then gets to his feet,
following Taehyung into the bathroom.

Taehyung strips off his tee shirt and steps into the shower, his legs feeling like rubber, his body
still coming down from its post-orgasm high. He lets out a contented sigh as the hot water hits him,
turning his face up to the spray. It’s been a while since he’s had an orgasm like that, he muses. Not
for lack of trying while Jungkook had been away－just the other night, Taehyung was so frustrated
and horny that he tried fingering himself for the first time, trying to find that spot that Jungkook
always hit. But he couldn’t fucking find it or reach it or move his fingers in the right way so he had
just given up and ended up jerking off instead. And, even though it had still provided him with
some temporary relief, it had been a poor substitute for the seismic-level orgasms he had been
getting from Jungkook.

Not that Taehyung is ever going to tell him that.

He’s just reaching for the soap on the little shelf mounted on the tiles when Jungkook comes in and
starts stripping off his clothes.

Taehyung stills, his eyes widening. “Um…what are you doing?”

“Well, I’m sure as fuck not waiting for you to use up all the hot water,” Jungkook says,
unbuttoning his shirt. “Besides, I need your help to get this shit out of my hair.”

And, before Taehyung can protest, Jungkook is completely naked and stepping into the shower
with him, closing the glass door behind him.

Taehyung bites his lip, wavering. He could just get out and stubbornly wait his turn－showering
with Jungkook just seems a bit too intimate for his taste. But he’s still covered with paint and cum
and spit and now that he’s in the shower already, he doesn’t really feel like getting out and sitting
around while he’s still coated in various types of fluids. So, maybe just this once, he won’t make a
big deal out of it and just allow Jungkook to shower with him.

But just this once.

Jungkook steps right up close to him, ducking his head under the spray, wetting his hair. Taehyung
looks down which turns out to be a mistake because his gaze gets stuck on Jungkook’s sculpted
chest, rivulets of water running down his pecs, across his toned stomach, heading lower…

Taehyung feels his face heat. He’s never been close to a naked man before, Jungkook had always
kept his clothes on when they had sex and before this, he had only gotten those stolen glimpses of
Jungkook’s body in the darkness of his bedroom, seen a little bit of his chest that first night at the
Bird Cage. He must work out a lot to get a body like this but Taehyung can’t figure out where a
violent crime boss would find time to hit the gym.

Taehyung’s eyes track a single bead of water making it’s way down Jungkook’s torso, following it
as it runs along the ridges of his abdominal muscles. And the urge to reach out and trace his
fingertips across Jungkook’s stomach is so strong that Taehyung has to fold his arms over his chest
to stop himself from doing something so stupid.

Maybe in another life, he’d find Jungkook attractive. Maybe if he had seen him out on the street
somewhere and not known who he was, Taehyung would have given him a second glance, maybe
even given himself whiplash while he was doing a double take.

In another life, ha. More like in another fucking universe.

But even telling himself that, he can’t quite make himself look away just yet and Jungkook is still
occupied with wetting his hair. So Taehyung takes the opportunity to look his fill－but then he
frowns when he notices a long, cruel-looking scar curving across Jungkook’s rib cage, arching
down towards his lower stomach. As if someone had tried to disembowel him at one point.

Wonder how he got it…

“See something you like?”

Taehyung’s head jerks up to see Jungkook looking at him, the corners of his lips tilted up.

“No,” Taehyung says hastily. “I was just, ah,” his eyes fall on the tattoo on Jungkook’s right arm,
“looking at your tattoo.”

It’s a dragon, he realizes, now that he’s actually taking a proper look. The fearsome head sits on
Jungkook’s shoulder, the rest of the body snaking down Jungkook’s arm, the tail wrapping around
his wrist.

“You like it?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Just curious,” he mumbles.

“It’s our emblem,” Jungkook says, holding his arm out so Taehyung can see more of it. “Every
member of the Yong Jegug has one. Not the exact same one and not in the same place but, yeah,
every member’s got some ink somewhere.”

Taehyung scrunches up his nose as a thought occurs to him. “Even Jin?”

“Yes, even Jin,” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes. “He’s got one on his back so don’t go asking to
see it or anything.”

“I wasn’t going to.” It’s weird, though, thinking of Jin having a tattoo. He doesn’t seem like the
type.

Jungkook lets out a huff of irritation and then grabs the shampoo bottle off the shelf and shoves it
into Taehyung’s hand. “Wash my hair.”

Taehyung gives him an annoyed look. “I’m not a fucking geisha.”

“Well, just play the fucking part then.”

Grumbling, Taehyung squirts some shampoo out onto his hand and starts to rub it into Jungkook’s
hair, washing out the green paint. He has to really dig his fingers in to get all the paint out, to the
point where he’s giving Jungkook an unintentional head massage. Jungkook groans and steps
closer, wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist and burying his face in the crook of
Taehyung’s neck. “Feels good,” he murmurs.

Taehyung goes very still, not entirely sure how to deal with having a wet, naked gang leader
pressed up against his body. His heartbeat seems very loud in his ears and all he can seem to focus
on is how warm Jungkook is, how the sensation of having someone else’s nude body pressed right
against his own is entirely, incredibly new.

He lets out a small gasp as he feels Jungkook’s lips ghost against his neck, nuzzling him. “Don’t
stop,” he whispers.

Trying to compose himself, Taehyung goes back to washing Jungkook’s hair, rubbing his
fingertips into Jungkook’s scalp, more deliberation in his movements as he tries to give him an
adequate head massage. It’s the least he can do, really, it’s probably the most benign thing
Jungkook has asked him to do so far…

But there’s nothing benign about the involuntary shiver that runs through him as he feels Jungkook
trace his hands over his back, reaching down to cup his ass, giving it a firm squeeze.

“You need to r-rinse,” Taehyung stammers and to his relief, Jungkook steps away and arches his
head back under the showerhead, his hands coming up to push his hair back to get the last remnants
of shampoo and paint out. But this isn’t very helpful because now Jungkook’s torso is once again
fully on display, all wet and gleaming, and Taehyung doesn’t miss the way his biceps flex slightly
as he rinses his hair. All of a sudden, it feels way too steamy in the shower and Taehyung wonders
if this isn’t real at all and that maybe he’s stuck in the middle of some sort of wet dream.

It’s not fair, he thinks. It’s not fair for someone as shitty as Jungkook to look that good.

To distract himself, Taehyung grabs the soap and starts to lather himself up so he can get clean and
get out of the shower as quickly as possible. He’s just scrubbing the paint off his chest when
Jungkook takes the soap from him, coming close again. “Here,” he says, rubbing the bar over
Taehyung’s skin, “let me do that.”

“I can do it myself,” Taehyung insists, shifting uncomfortably, trying to take the soap back from
Jungkook but Jungkook holds it away from him.

“I know you can,” Jungkook says. “But I want to do it. So just hold still and let me wash you.”

It seems like a bizarre demand to Taehyung but he doesn’t really seem to have any other choice
than to obey so he remains still, standing there awkwardly as Jungkook runs the soap over his chest
and he even takes care to clean Taehyung of the paint on his hands and arms.

He stares down at the tiled floor while Jungkook does this, making himself concentrate on the
green-tinted water swirling down the drain. But then Jungkook actually kneels in front of him to
scrub at the paint coating his inner thigh and Taehyung’s brain nearly short-circuits at having
Jungkook’s head so close to his crotch. He quickly covers himself with his hands and Jungkook
glances up at him, a bemused look on his face but, thankfully, he doesn’t say anything. Not about
that, at least.

“You look like you were hit with a paint grenade or something,” Jungkook says. God, is
that…humor in his voice?

Taehyung’s quiet for a few seconds and then he says, “Are you really going to paint over it?”

Jungkook glances up at him and then goes back to washing the paint off Taehyung’s thigh. “No,
Taehyung, I’m not going to paint over it,” he says. “No point if you’re just going to paint over it
again.”

“Oh." He would normally feel triumphant, victorious, knowing that he had won a battle against the
mob boss but this feels different somehow. There’s a weird sort of ache in his chest as he looks
down at Jungkook, his head bowed as he gently scrubs the paint from Taehyung’s skin. “Thank
you,” he says softly.

“You’re welcome,” Jungkook replies, his voice gruff.

And then, because Taehyung can’t help himself he says, “Can I paint the bedroom too?”

“You’re really pushing it, kid.”

“Oh, come on. It’s dark when you go to sleep anyways.”

Jungkook sighs. “All right, fine.”

***

Yoongi stares at Jungkook across his dining table, both of them quiet. Jungkook isn’t looking at
him, staring off into space, his expression distant. The other members of the inner circle have left
for the night so now it’s just the two of them. Things are awkward and uneasy between them, the
atmosphere thick with that ever-present tension. It never used to be like this. They had been like
brothers, once upon a time. Back before Jungkook had become the leader of the Yong Jegug, back
when Yoongi had called him ‘JK’ instead of ‘boss.’ And then that night had happened and it had
changed everything between them. He supposes he should be thankful that he’s still alive, that
Jungkook didn’t put a bullet in his head like he had threatened to. But even though he’s tried his
best to make amends, to prove his loyalty, Yoongi still can’t help but feel that the entire thing is his
own fault.

He sighs. “I dunno, boss, maybe we can go over the security footage from the art gallery again?
Maybe we missed something－”
“Namjoon’s gone over it a hundred fucking times, Yoongi, there was only the one hit man in there
that we already found.” Jungkook closes his eyes wearily, running a hand through his hair－he’s
been doing that a lot tonight. “And we haven’t been able to track the others so now we’re at
another dead end.”

“Maybe we should go back to the Bird Cage－”

Jungkook opens his eyes, glaring at him. “That’s your solution to everything, isn’t it?” he snarls.
“But I know why you want to go there, Yoongi. You don’t want to go there to get information, you
just want to go see your little whore, Jimin－” He cuts himself off in mid-sentence, his eyes
widening. “Jesus Christ.”

“What?”

“He knows,” Jungkook whispers. “He fucking knows.”

“Knows what?” Yoongi says slowly, feeling uneasy seeing the stunned expression on Jungkook’s
face. “Boss, what are you－”

“Jimin fucking knows that Taehyung was sold to me.” He looks at Yoongi, his jaw clenched.
“When I went there last week, I ran into him at the bar and he fucking asked me if Taehyung had
run away from me yet. God, I was so fucking stupid, too much in my own fucking head to realize
what he was saying.” He gets to his feet, striding towards the door. “We’re going there. Now.”

“Boss, wait!” Yoongi says, scrambling to his feet and going after him. “Just because Jimin knows
doesn’t mean he told anybody－”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jungkook roars. He whirls around and grabs Yoongi by the front
of his shirt, hauling him close to his face. “This is our first fucking lead in weeks and you don’t
want to check it out just because it involves your favorite fucking whore? Because you can’t handle
asking him a few fucking questions?” He gives Yoongi a savage grin and Yoongi feels an icy chill
sweep over him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be the one doing the talking.”

Jungkook sits in one of Hoseok’s leather armchairs as the whores of the Bird Cage file into Hobi’s
office, forming a line by the door. It’s late so most of them are done for the night and wearing
various types of loungewear, their faces rinsed of makeup. Yugyeom is clad in a pair of sweatpants
and a white tank top and he gives Jungkook a small smile before yawning, scrubbing a hand over
his face. Jasmine on the other hand is wearing a Juicy Couture velour track suit, her long hair
thrown up in a messy top knot and she squeaks when she sees him, looking down at the ground to
hide her bare face, hands flying up to try and fix her hair. Jimin wears a pair of white silk pajamas,
a kimono with a cherry blossom print thrown over top but he’s not looking at Jungkook－his eyes
are on Yoongi who is standing beside Hoseok’s desk.

“Good evening, ladies,” Jungkook says. “And gentlemen,” he adds, nodding at Yugyeom and
Yugyeom winks at him. “I apologize for hauling you out of bed and interrupting your free time but
I’ve got a few questions to ask of you.” Casually, he takes his switchblade out and flicks it open,
tapping the blade against the arm of the chair, poking little holes into the leather. Behind him, he
hears Hoseok let out a huff of annoyance. “Questions concerning Kim Taehyung.”
He keeps his eyes fixed on Jimin as he says this and he notices Jimin go very still, his expression
carefully neutral. But there’s just the slightest twitch of his head, the barest flinch, that gives him
away.

“Now I just want all of you to think very carefully over the past few weeks and tell me if anyone
came to see you and asked about Taehyung. If they were looking for him, if they asked if he had
been sold, things like that.”

The whores all frown in puzzlement, stealing glances at each other and again Jimin gives himself
away by staring straight ahead, keeping his face blank. He’s just about to ask the rest of them to
leave so they can get down to the proper interrogation when one of them speaks.

“Oh yeahhhhhh,” a twig-skinny blonde drawls. “I think someone did ask me about him…once…”
Her name’s Jinx, a drug addict, which has earned her the affectionate nickname of ‘Jinx the Junkie’
by the men who come to the Bird Cage. Jungkook’s never used her but he’s heard stories that
she’ll do anything that’s asked of her just as long as she’s tipped with dime bags of coke and hits of
meth.

She’s probably high right now, judging by the dopey grin on her face and getting any accurate
information out of her will be like trying to interrogate a shitfaced monkey. But still, he has to at
least try.

“You remember who it was, Jinx?” he asks, watching her carefully. “What they were asking about
him?”

Jinx screws her face up as she thinks and it’s kind of painful to watch. “Uhhhhh…no, don’t
remember who it was, all the guy’s faces just sorta...” she sighs, picking at a spot on her face, “…
blend together, ya know? He gave me some coke, I remember that much.” She grins. “Oh man, I
was soooooo fucked up.”

“Wonderful,” Jungkook mutters. “Do you remember anything about what he asked about Kim
Taehyung? What he wanted to know?”

She puffs out her cheeks, tilting her head back and forth. “Just sorta wanted to know who he was
friends with here, I think,” she says uncertainly. “Who he was close to, ya know?” She glances
over at Hoseok’s art print of the woman being eaten out by the octopus, her expression dreamy.
“Probably wanted a threesome or some shit. I only remember because he kept fucking asking, he
wouldn’t shut up about it and I just wanted to do some coke, right? So I finally fucking told him
that Taehyung and Jimin were BFFs.” She guffaws, leaning past the other whores to look at Jimin.
“Because you were, right, Chiminy? Like two peas in a pod, that’s what I told ‘im you guys were,
like two peaaaaaaas in a poddddddd…”

“Shut up,” Jimin hisses. He’s glaring at her, looking like he might actually haul off and smack her
across the face. “Just shut up, Jinx.”

But the damage has already been done. “Thank you, Jinx,” Jungkook says and then looks around at
the rest of the whores. “That’ll be all, you can leave now.” He looks at Jimin, smirking. “Except
for you, Jimin. I still have a few questions for you.”

The whores all file out again (Jasmine giving him one last flirtatious glance over her shoulder) and
then it’s just Jungkook and Jimin staring each other down, Yoongi and Hoseok still by the desk
behind them.

“So,” Jungkook says, getting to his feet and approaching Jimin, casually tapping his switchblade
against his leg. “You knew Taehyung had been sold to me? He told you?”

Jimin’s eyes dart to the knife in Jungkook’s hand and then he nods curtly. “The day he left, he told
me. But I haven’t told anyone. No one’s asked me about him.”

“Hmm, is that so?” Jungkook says softly, standing right beside Jimin. “Are you sure about that?
Because it seems someone knows that he belongs to me now and, I gotta tell you, Jimin, it’s
causing me all sorts of problems.”

Jimin gives him a sideways glance. “So? Like I give a fuck.”

“Well, I know you don’t give a shit about me but what about him? Doesn’t it bother you to know
that someone sent hit men after him? Tried to kill him?”

“W-what?” At last there’s a crack in Jimin’s facade as he gives Jungkook a bewildered look. “But
that doesn’t make any－” But then he stops, looking away again, staring helplessly at Yoongi.

Jungkook glances at him too. Yoongi’s arms are crossed over his chest, a conflicted look on his
face as his eyes dart between Jimin and Jungkook. “Just tell him, Jimin,” Yoongi says finally.
“Please, if you know anything, just tell us. We need to know.”

Jimin swallows nervously, hesitating for a few seconds and then he speaks. “A guy came to see me
a few weeks ago. He…he asked about Tae. Asked if I knew what had happened to him－”

“What?” Hoseok says, his voice harsh. “That’s not what you told Uncle Hobi, Chimmy. No, you
told me that the guy was just trying to hustle a session out of you at a discount price and you sent
him packing.”

Jimin blinks rapidly, his eyes shimmering with tears. “I l-lied…”

“You little－”

“Hobi, shut the fuck up!” Jungkook commands. He turns back to Jimin. “Who was he? How did he
know about Taehyung?”

“Said his name was Minho,” Jimin says, his eyes darting all around the office as if looking for an
escape. “Said that he knew Taehyung from before. Like, before he came to the Bird Cage. He said
－” But then Jimin stops, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“What?” Jungkook says through gritted teeth, tapping his fingernail against the blade of his knife.
“What did he fucking say?”

Jimin raises his head to look Jungkook right in the eye, determination on his face, any trace of fear
completely gone. “He said he was Tae’s boyfriend.”

The words slam into Jungkook like a sledgehammer and, even though he’s standing on solid
ground, he feels like he’s falling. Boyfriend, Tae has a boyfriend—

“You lying fucking bitch!” Hoseok explodes, getting up from his chair and coming around the
desk. “There’s no fucking way he had a boyfriend, I did my background checks, he’s never been
with anyone－”

“Well, you obviously didn’t look very hard, did you?” Jimin shouts. “Obviously the great,
infallible ‘Uncle Hobi’ fucked up this time!” Jimin’s hands are curled into fists, his cheeks flushed
pink with anger. He turns to Jungkook, his eyes sparking with wrath and defiance and the
resemblance to Taehyung in that moment is so strong that Jungkook can understand why Yoongi
fell so hard for Jimin. “So I told Minho that Tae had been sold to you. And I also told him to do
everything in his power to get him back, to get him away from you.” He tosses his head, smoothing
his hands down his robe. “I don’t know anything about any fucking hit men, it must have been
someone else.” His eyes fall on the knife still in Jungkook’s hand and he gives him a contemptuous
look. “So, if you’re going to try and threaten me, if you wanna go ahead and kill me, you go right
ahead.” He looks over at Yoongi, longing and hopelessness flickering over his face. “I just really
don’t give a fuck anymore.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Jungkook says softly. “I’m going to buy you.”

Both Jimin and Yoongi start talking at once.

“Boss, come on, you don’t need to do that－”

“Oh my fucking god, like I would ever let you touch me, you son of a bitch－”

Jungkook ignores them both, looking at Hoseok. “How much you want for him, Hobi?”

Hoseok glares at Jimin, his normally cheerful smile replaced by a twisted sneer. “Well, he’s one of
my most in-demand birds so usually I’d be a bit reluctant to see him go…but, then again, I’m not
sure I want some lying fucking whore staying here at the Cage.” Hoseok shakes his head, a bitter
grin on his face. “After all Uncle Hobi’s done for you, Chimmy, this is how you repay him.” He
makes a tutting noise and then looks back at Jungkook. “You can have him for a hundred thou.
He’s almost all used up anyways.”

“Done.” Jungkook says. He turns back to Jimin, folding his switchblade into the hilt and slipping it
back inside his pocket. “Go get your stuff. We’re leaving now.”

Jimin doesn’t move. “Fuck you. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Jimin, you can walk out of here or I can drag you out, it’s your choice.”

“Boss,” Yoongi says, coming up to them and Jungkook can hear the underlying panic in his voice.
“You don’t need Jimin, you already have Taehyung－”

“Oh, is that a problem or something?” Jungkook snarls. “What, am I not allowed to have two
whores or something? Is that against the fucking rules?”

Yoongi doesn’t say anything but his eyes are silently pleading with him not to do this. And
Jungkook wants to scream at him for being so weak, for letting his feelings for Jimin cloud his
judgment, wreck his sanity. But he doesn’t because he feels like he might know just a little bit
about what Yoongi’s going through. Because there are demons howling in his head, screaming at
him to find whoever this Minho fucker is and wipe him off the face of the planet for daring to have
touched Taehyung first, for daring to have touched him at all.

But he says he’s never been kissed, a small voice whispers, it doesn’t make any fucking sense －

“You can fucking relax, Yoongi,” Jungkook says harshly. “I didn’t buy him for me, I bought him
for you.” He grabs Jimin’s wrist and shoves him towards Yoongi and Yoongi hastily catches Jimin
in his arms. “He’s your fucking responsibility now. Can’t fucking keep him here if he’s going to
keep blabbing about Taehyung to whatever little dickweed comes along.”

They’re both looking at him like he’s insane, like he’s fucking crazy, and, at that moment,
Jungkook wonders if he just might be.
“So why don’t you go ahead and give your whore a kiss, Yoongi,” Jungkook snaps. “I doubt Jimin
here will put a fucking ‘no-kissing’ stipulation in your fucking contract. Go on, I’m waiting. We’re
not leaving here until I see you give your whore a nice big kiss.”

Yoongi hesitates, looking uncertain but Jimin just glares at Jungkook before turning to Yoongi,
grasping his face in his hands and pulling him in for a soft, tender kiss. Then Jimin pulls back,
throwing his arms around Yoongi’s neck, whispering his name with a little catch in his voice and
they cling to each other for a few long seconds, as if they’re in danger of being torn apart again.

Rage boils through Jungkook, hotter than hellfire, because Taehyung will never look at him the
way Jimin looks at Yoongi, never voluntarily put his arms around him, never grant Jungkook the
privilege of kissing him. And Yoongi, even after all he’s done, all the ways he’s fucked everything
up, gets what he wants. And Jungkook doesn’t. And he never will.

“All right, that’s enough,” he snaps. “Go get your fucking stuff, Jimin, I need to settle up with
Hobi before we head back to the penthouse.”

Because he has a few certain questions for Kim Taehyung now. A few certain questions he’d
fucking kill to get the answers to.

Jungkook storms into his bedroom and rips the covers off of Taehyung. “Wake up!”

Taehyung is curled up as usual, hugging his knees to his chest and he stirs, his head popping up off
the pillow. “Hm?” he says groggily. “What?”

“Get your ass dressed and come out into the living room. Now.”

Taehyung blinks blearily up at him, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “What?” he says again.
“Why?”

“Taehyung, I said now!”

He’s in no mood to be generous or lenient or forgiving like he was earlier in the shower. Because
all he can think about right now is Taehyung in bed with someone else, letting another man run his
hands over his body, letting someone else kiss him－

“Okay, okay,” Taehyung says irritably, starting to get out of bed. “Jeez, just give me a fucking
second…”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for him, striding back out into the living room where Yoongi and Jimin are
waiting, holding hands. Jimin glares at him, still wearing his silk pajamas, but Yoongi is looking
around the penthouse, frowning. “Uh…did you paint in here?”

“Don’t ask,” Jungkook grumbles.

A minute later, Taehyung comes stumbling out of the bedroom dressed in a tee shirt and
sweatpants, mouth open wide in a yawn, his hair a mess. “What’s going on－” But he stops short
when he sees Jimin and Yoongi. “Jimin?”

“Tae!” Jimin cries and then they’re rushing towards each other, colliding with each other as they
embrace because it seems today is Everybody Wants to Hug Park Fucking Jimin Day.

“What are you doing here?” Taehyung says, pulling back to look at him.

“Tae, oh my god, are you okay?” Jimin replies, grasping Taehyung’s face in his tiny hands,
examining him. “Has he been hurting you－”

“What? No, Jimin, I’m fine but what are you－”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Jungkook goes up to them and forces them apart, scowling at Jimin. “Why
don’t you go ahead and tell Taehyung what you told us at the Bird Cage, Chimmy? Go on, tell
him.”

Jimin gives him a dirty look but then turns back to Taehyung, his expression softening. “Okay,
Tae, listen to me,” Jimin says, taking Taehyung’s hands in his own. “Minho came to see me.”

Jungkook feels himself tense as he waits for Taehyung’s response but Taehyung just gives Jimin a
blank look. “Who?”

“Minho,” Jimin says, more urgently now. “You know…” He gives Taehyung a significant look but
Taehyung still looks clueless.

“I’m sorry, am I supposed to know who that is?” Taehyung says. “Is he a client of yours or
something?”

“No, Tae, come on,” Jimin says, sounding a little panicky now. “He said he was your boyfriend, he
said that you two had been separated and that he had been looking for you…” But he trails off
when Taehyung starts shaking his head.

“Jimin, I’ve never had a boyfriend or anything, I told you that,” Taehyung says quietly. He shrugs.
“I don’t know anyone named Minho. I’m sorry but whoever this guy was he was lying to you.”

Jungkook feels relief wash over him because he can tell that Taehyung isn’t trying to protect Jimin
or help him save face right now. He’s telling the truth.

Jimin’s face falls. “No,” he whispers, letting go of Taehyung’s hands and dropping down onto
Jungkook’s sofa. “No, no, no, no…” He buries his face in his hands, stifling a sob.

“A ruse,” Yoongi says quietly, gazing at Jimin. “Someone sent this Minho guy to the Bird Cage to
find out who Taehyung had been sold to, to get a name.”

“Yeah, no shit!” Jungkook snarls. He looms over Jimin, looking down at him with disgust.
“Congratu-fucking-lations, Jimin, you’re responsible for nearly getting Taehyung killed.”

“No,” Jimin whimpers, his face still in his hands. “I didn’t mean it…I was trying to help－”

“Help!” Jungkook explodes. “You were trying to fucking help? By giving away such an important
piece of information? To the first jackass who came along and asked you for it? Did you even stop
to think that this Minho fucker could be lying to you, could be working for someone, are you really
that fucking stupid－”

“Jungkook, stop!”
Taehyung gets between him and Jimin, slapping a hand over his chest, a fierce sort of
protectiveness written over his face. “Jimin didn’t do it on purpose, okay? He’s my friend, he’d
never do anything to deliberately hurt me－”

“Taehyung, he’s the one responsible for putting you in danger－”

“He didn’t mean to!” Taehyung fires back. “People make mistakes! He thought he was helping me,
it’s not like he was trying to put me in harm’s way, he didn’t know it would lead to hit men coming
after me!”

“But－”

“Look, I know you’re upset and we’re all very impressed by your yelling and screaming about it
but would you please, for once in your life, just chill?”

Jungkook stares at him. “Did you just tell me to chill?”

“Yeah, I did.” The corners of his lips tilt up slightly. “What are you going to do about it, tough
guy?”

And there’s something in Taehyung’s eyes, not the blazing defiant fire but something equally as
compelling, a sort of boyish playfulness that renders Jungkook mute. It soothes him, seeing that
humor sparking in Taehyung’s eyes, a cooling balm to his fiery temper. For a long second, they just
stare at each other and Jungkook suddenly becomes very aware of Taehyung’s hand on his chest,
pressed right up against his heartbeat.

Taehyung blinks and he looks down at where his hand is, his cheeks flushing pink and he hastily
pulls his hand away, crossing his arms over his chest. “At least it’s a lead, right?” he says
awkwardly, not looking at him. “Whoever this Minho guy is, maybe he could, I dunno, be able to
tell you who’s after me?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says, trying to focus on the matter at hand. “We requested that Hobi look back
through his security footage, get the guy’s info for us.” Requested. More like threatened him with
castration.

“And there it is now,” Yoongi says, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking the screen. “I
swear his tech guys could give Namjoon a run for his money.” He squints at the message. “Choi
Minho, twenty-four years old, lives in the Gwanak district.”

“Address too?”

“Yep, it’s all here. Lives alone apparently.”

“Good. We’ll go there now.”

Jungkook heads toward the door, Yoongi following him but Taehyung calls after him.

“Wait…you’re not going to hurt him, are you?”

Jungkook spares Taehyung a brief glance over his shoulder, his hand on the door knob. “Not unless
we have to.”
Jungkook and Yoongi stand in the hallway of a dingy apartment building, wearing black leather
gloves and masks that cover the lower half of their faces. Their ‘ninja masks’ they had once joked.
Back when they used to joke with each other about these things.

“Okay, it’s number 15,” Yoongi says, checking the info on his phone again. “So, how do you want
to do this, boss, do you want me to pick the lock or－”

But Jungkook is already storming over to apartment number 15, kicking the door open and
disappearing inside.

Yoongi sighs. “Or we could just do that,” he mutters before hurrying over to the door and
following Jungkook inside, making sure to close the door behind him.

It’s a tiny shoebox of an apartment, narrow and cramped, the kitchen so small it looks more like
one of those fun-size kitchens for children. Jungkook is standing by the only other door in the
apartment, the one that presumably leads into the bedroom, looking at him impatiently through the
shadows. Yoongi hastens over and they pause for a second, listening. There’s a slight snoring
sound coming from behind the door. It only sounds like one person and Yoongi just hopes that this
Minho guy doesn’t have any company tonight.

“You going for the arms or legs?” Yoongi whispers.

“Arms,” Jungkook hisses back. Then, before Yoongi can say anything else, Jungkook barrels into
the room and Yoongi has no choice but to follow him in.

They waste no time ripping the blankets off the bed, the two of them scrambling onto the mattress,
Jungkook sitting at the head of the bed, pinning down the guy’s arms by kneeling on them while
Yoongi pins his legs. The guy wakes up with a yell, struggling helplessly but Jungkook just clamps
a gloved hand over his mouth, both of them flicking open their switchblades.

“You’re Choi Minho?” Yoongi asks calmly. The guy looks at him, eyes wide and terrified,
Jungkook’s hand still covering his mouth. “You can just nod or shake your head.”

The guy makes a little squeaking noise, muffled by Jungkook’s hand and then nods.

“Okay, good,” Yoongi says, holding his switchblade over the guy’s crotch. He’s wearing nothing
but a pair of boxer shorts and Yoongi is kind of impressed that he hasn’t gone ahead and pissed
himself. Not yet, anyways. “We don’t want to hurt you, Minho, we just have a couple of questions
for you. And when you answer them, we need you to be honest. Understand?”

Minho nods again, his eyes nearly bulging out of his face, his chest heaving.

Jungkook stares down at him, his own switchblade hovering mere inches over Minho’s face. “I’m
going to take my hand away now so you can talk,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, “but if
you yell or scream or do anything stupid, I’m going to cut your face off, pretty boy. So be nice and
cooperative, yeah?”

Minho, his eyes fixed on Jungkook’s knife, tilts his head in the barest of nods.

“Okay.” Jungkook takes his hand away and Minho heaves in a great shuddering breath but doesn’t
scream.
“So, Minho,” Yoongi says conversationally, “we understand that you paid a visit to－”

“Do you know Kim Taehyung?” Jungkook interrupts, staring down into Minho’s face.

“W-what?” Minho stammers. “N-no, I don’t know him－”

“No?” Jungkook says, tilting his head to the side, lowering the knife even closer to Minho’s face.
“You never touched him?” Jungkook’s knife is hovering right over Minho’s lips now as if he’s
contemplating cutting them off. “Never kissed him?”

“N-no, I swear I never met the guy!”

Yoongi fights the urge to roll his eyes; this certainly wasn’t the line of questioning they had agreed
upon beforehand and he decides to make an attempt to get the interrogation back on track. “But,
see, we’re a little confused by that, Minho. Because we know you’ve been asking about him. We
know you went to the Bird Cage and were asking about Kim Taehyung.”

“Oh, that,” Minho says, his voice shaky. “Fuck, I knew it was fucking sketchy, I fucking knew it
would come back to bite me in the ass－”

“Tell us what happened, Minho,” Yoongi says. “Tell us how you knew about Kim Taehyung and
why you went to the Bird Cage asking for him.”

“Well, it’s kinda fucked up how that happened,” Minho says, his eyes still on the knife in
Jungkook’s hand. “See, this guy found me through my Instagram page, said he had some work for
me. Said that all I needed to do was go to this brothel and talk to this one guy about this other guy,
pretend to be this Taehyung guy’s boyfriend and just try to get a name, find out who he had been
sold to. And, well, he offered me a ton of cash for it, and it seemed fairly simple so I did it. And I
got a name out of that whore who worked there－” Yoongi’s hand involuntarily tightens on
Minho’s leg and Minho’s voice goes up a notch, “－and so yeah, I went back and gave the guy the
name and he gave me the money, mission accomplished, you know?”

Yoongi frowns at him. “Did this job not seem kind of…odd to you?”

“Well, sure it did but I’m a struggling actor and I needed the cash. It’s not the weirdest thing I’ve
done for money.” He laughs nervously. “Plus, I thought it was kind of cool, you know? Like a sort
of secret agent thing.” He gulps, eyeing Jungkook’s knife again. “At least, I thought it was cool at
the time.”

So that explained why Minho had been hired. Yoongi gives Jungkook a cautious look before
asking the crucial question. “Who hired you?”

Minho whimpers, shaking his head slightly. “He said if I told anyone, he would, uh, make things
unpleasant for me.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook says harshly. “Well, we’re here right now, Minho, and I can guarantee you that
if you don’t tell us who hired you, we’re going to make things extremely unpleasant for you. And if
you think I’m bluffing right now, I’m not.” He moves the knife so that it’s hovering over the tip of
Minho’s nose. “What do you think, my friend? Should we start with a nose job? All these actor
types want plastic surgery, don’t they? Maybe we can help kickstart your career, pretty boy…”

“That’s a possibility,” Yoongi says casually. He moves his own knife so that it’s resting right
against Minho’s crotch. “Or how about a sex change? Maybe you’d have a more lucrative career as
an actress…”
“Oh my god, please don’t cut my fucking dick off!” Minho pleads, panic flaring in his eyes.
“Please, oh my fucking god, please－”

“Give us a name then.”

“Uh, Jee,” Minho says hastily. “No, Jwi, he said his name was Jwi. Ugly son of a bitch, with these
godawful teeth－”

Jungkook abruptly gets up, releasing Minho. “I fucking told you!” he snaps at Yoongi before
storming out of the room.

Yoongi heaves a sigh before getting off the bed. He’s never going to hear the end of this. He puts
his switchblade away, glancing at Minho, who is staring up at him, wide-eyed.

“Uh…good luck with the acting career,” Yoongi says awkwardly.

“T-thanks,” Minho stammers, looking slightly bewildered. “Appreciate it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just gonna…” He trails off and then leaves the room, hoping that they hadn’t
traumatized the poor guy. But, all things considered, he thinks Minho had handled it quite well.

“I’m so sorry, Tae.”

“Jimin, stop apologizing for god’s sake. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Taehyung and Jimin are sitting together on Jungkook’s leather sofa, facing each other, their hands
loosely intertwined.

Jimin shakes his head, a guilty look on his face. “I thought I was helping,” he says in a hushed
voice. “And this Minho guy, he was so convincing, that it never even occurred to me that he might
be lying, that he might be working for someone.” He bites his lip. “I was just so desperate to get
you away from Jungkook, I didn’t think. I’m sorry,” he says again.

“Don’t be,” Taehyung insists, squeezing his hand. “Come on, Jimin, stop beating yourself up, I
know you were just trying to help me. How could you have known?” He smiles slightly.
“Although this guy must have been really convincing, considering I told you I’ve never had a
boyfriend before.”

Jimin groans, letting his head fall back on the sofa. “God, I know, I was so fucking stupid. But he
told me that you guys had kind of kept your relationship under wraps for, you know, obvious
reasons and I thought that maybe you had decided to keep it a secret while you were at the Bird
Cage to protect him.”

“That makes sense,” Taehyung says slowly. “I can see why you would think something like that.”

Jimin gives him a dry look. “Shut up, you brat. You don’t need to be so fucking patronizing. If I
were you, I’d be fucking pissed at me right now for being such a dumbass.”

“Oh I am,” Taehyung says, laughing. “I’m so mad at you. Look at my face, look how mad I am.”

“Jerk.” Jimin punches him on the shoulder and then takes his hand, going quiet for a few seconds.
“Has it been awful?” he whispers.

“It’s been…interesting,” Taehyung says hesitantly, thinking back over the last few weeks with
Jungkook. He’s not sure how to put into words how conflicted he feels about the sex, how he can’t
help but find Jungkook physically attractive even though he finds him repulsive in almost every
other way. And he doesn’t know how to explain to Jimin that weird ache in his chest he had felt
earlier while he and Jungkook had been in the shower together.

He shrugs. “The money’s good,” he says finally. “And, well, he’s almost never here so I hardly
ever see him and I have a lot of free time to pretty much do whatever I want so…that’s a plus.”

“Hmm…” Jimin says, giving him a shrewd look. “Well, glad to hear it but why do I get the feeling
you’re not telling me everything?” When Taehyung doesn’t respond, Jimin rolls his eyes. “Fine,
keep it to yourself, I won’t pry.” He makes a noise of disgust. “God, I can’t believe I owe it to that
asshole for getting me out of the Bird Cage.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah,” Jimin says reluctantly. “He, uh, ‘bought’ me tonight. Not for him!” he adds hastily when
he sees Taehyung’s eyes widen. “Thank fucking god. No, he bought me for, um, Yoongi.” He
smiles, his cheeks turning pink. “I never thought it would happen,” he whispers.

“Yoongi…he’s not just a friend of yours, is he?”

“No,” Jimin says shyly, glancing away, “he’s so much more than that, Tae.”

There’s a weird emotion welling up inside Taehyung, something that is part happiness, part envy.
“I’m so glad you’re out of there, Jimin,” Taehyung says, letting the happiness win out. “How did
you guys even, you know, get together in the first place? Like, how did it happen?”

“We－”

But then the door swings open and Jungkook and Yoongi come in, interrupting their conversation.

“Well?” Jimin says anxiously. “How’d it go?”

“Got a name,” Yoongi says, coming over to sit beside Jimin while Jungkook heads straight for the
liquor cabinet and pours himself a drink. Yoongi eyes Jungkook carefully before going on. “It
is Jwi that’s after you,” he says to Taehyung, sounding slightly apologetic. “He hired this Minho
guy to get Jungkook’s name out of Jimin.”

“Yeah, like I said,” Jungkook snaps, striding over and dropping down into the armchair that sits
adjacent to the sofa, “all this time we’ve been wasting going after these fucking hitmen, we should
have been going after Jwi.” He sips moodily at his drink, glaring at Yoongi.

“At least we know for sure now,” Yoongi argues. “And, even if we had been going after Jwi this
entire time, we still may not have found him by now. Like Hobi said, he’s completely dropped off
the radar. No one knows where he is or what he’s doing right now. He’s always been like that.”

“So…how long do you think it’ll take to find him?” Taehyung says, looking between Yoongi and
Jungkook.

Jungkook sighs, sitting back and putting his feet up on the coffee table, staring at the ceiling.
“Could be weeks,” he says dully. “Who the fuck knows?”

“Weeks?”

“Or…maybe it won’t take that long,” Yoongi says thoughtfully. “There’s the Party coming up next
week. I haven’t even really thought about it because we’ve been so busy with this but…Jwi usually
makes an appearance. It’d be bad for him if he didn’t.”

Jungkook scowls at him. “No guarantee though. We wouldn’t be able to know for sure if he’s
going to turn up.”

“Wait,” Taehyung says, trying to keep up. “What party, what are you guys talking about?”

“It’s an annual gathering of sorts,” Yoongi says. “Between all the gang leaders and other key
members, sort of a truce night, you know? A chance for people to make deals and maybe settle
disputes, size each other up. And then there’s the traditional poker game between the leaders…”

“It’s just a big dick-swinging contest,” Jungkook says scornfully. “And, like I said, no guarantee
Jwi will show up.”

“Well, what if we gave him an incentive?” Yoongi says.

Jungkook stares at him, tapping his fingers on his glass. “What kind of incentive?”

Yoongi’s eyes slide to Taehyung. “Live bait.”

There’s absolute silence for a few seconds and then Jungkook explodes. “No! Absolutely not,
no fucking way－” He slams his empty glass down on the coffee table and gets up, shoving his
hands in his pockets and pacing restlessly around the living area. “You’ve lost your goddamn
fucking mind if you think we’re going to try something like that－”

“Try what?” Taehyung says, looking at Yoongi. “What do you mean ‘live bait?’”

“I mean,” Yoongi says patiently, ignoring the snarling sounds coming from Jungkook, “that you
should accompany Jungkook to the Party. And we should let it slip that you will be attending the
Party. I bet my left nut that Jwi will come just to get a look at you. Hell, he might even get the idea
in his head that he can try and seduce you away from Jungkook or something.”

“Please don’t bet your left nut on this,” Jimin sighs. “In fact, please don’t bet your left nut on
anything.”

“I said we’re not fucking doing that,” Jungkook growls. “It’s way too fucking dangerous－”

“Is it, though?” Yoongi says mildly. “Weapons aren’t allowed at the Party, you know that－”

“I don’t fucking care if weapons aren’t allowed, I’m not putting Taehyung in a situation where he’s
surrounded by a bunch of gang leaders! And I am especially not dangling him out in front of
fucking Jwi Haechung like a fucking carrot on a stick!”

“Oh for god’s sake, do I not get a fucking say at all?” Taehyung jumps to his feet and goes to stand
directly in front of Jungkook. “I like this plan, the sooner we can get this Jwi fucker to stop coming
after me, the better! I don’t mind if it’s dangerous, I can handle myself－”
“Taehyung, we’re not doing it,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth. “End of discussion.”

“Oh would you just fucking－” Taehyung closes his eyes and makes himself take a deep breath,
trying to compose himself. He opens his eyes again, looking Jungkook right in the face. “I want to
be able to go outside again, Jungkook,” he says quietly. “I’m sick of being stuck in here all the
time.” To his utter embarrassment, he feels his throat tighten, tears welling in his eyes but he blinks
them away and forces himself to go on. “I’ll stick to whatever plan you guys come up with, I’ll do
whatever it is I need to do, just please let me do this. Please.”

Jungkook stares at him for a long moment, his eyes roving over Taehyung’s face. His expression
isn’t softer necessarily but it does seem less intense than it had been a few moments ago. Then he
looks away, letting out a long exhale, running a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he mutters. Then he
turns to Yoongi. “But only if we come up with a plan that I’m satisfied with. And we’re only going
if we know for sure that Jwi’s going to be there.”

Yoongi nods. “We’ll set up a meeting first thing tomorrow. And I think Taehyung should be there
too,” he adds, glancing at him. “It’s better if he knows all the details.”

“Fine, whatever,” Jungkook says tiredly, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Now would you and
Jimin get the fuck out of here so I can get some fucking sleep?”

“Sure, boss.”

Jimin gives Taehyung a hug before he leaves, whispering, “See you later, alligator,” in his ear
before leaving the penthouse with Yoongi, hand in hand with the gang member. It’s a little bit
strange, Taehyung muses, he didn’t think Yoongi would be Jimin’s type, too rough around the
edges for his sweet, bubbly friend but, whatever it is they have between them, it seems to work.
And Jimin seems so happy now…

He looks around at Jungkook, frowning when he realizes that Jungkook has wandered over to the
window, staring out at the city below. Taehyung goes to head back to the bedroom, moving past
him but then stops, turning to look at Jungkook over his shoulder. “That Minho guy…you didn’t
hurt him, did you?”

“Nope,” Jungkook answers. “Didn’t have to.”

“Okay, um, good.” He’s sort of waiting for Jungkook to follow him to the bedroom but Jungkook
doesn’t move. “Well, I’m just going to go back to bed then.”

Jungkook just grunts so Taehyung decides to cut his losses for the night and heads back to the
bedroom. Big deal, I’m not that horny anyways, so what, who cares－

He’s just reached the door when he feels a hand on his wrist, stopping him, and he turns to face
Jungkook, who had moved so quietly, Taehyung hadn’t even heard him approach.

“You’ve really never been with anyone?” Jungkook asks, staring down at where his hand is gently
holding Taehyung’s arm.

“No,” Taehyung says, feeling himself blush. “Never.”

“How come?” Jungkook rubs his thumb over Taehyung’s wrist, the sensation raising goosebumps
along Taehyung’s arm. “How come you’ve never been with anyone?”

How come…How was Taehyung supposed to answer that?

 Because when you’re seventeen years old and sleeping in the backroom of a coffee shop, it’s kind
of hard to agree to go on a date with that cute boy who keeps coming in and flirting with you. Even
though he’s got a gorgeous smile and kind eyes and always says something to make you laugh
every time he comes in, you still have to turn him down when he finally asks you to go see a movie
with him because how do you explain to him that he has to come pick you up at the coffee shop
because, haha surprise, you fucking live there. And he’s so hurt and confused, you can see it on his
face but you can’t do one fucking thing about it because rejecting him is better than telling him the
truth. It’s safer. Because when you’re nineteen years old and have become as bitter as the black
coffee you have to make every fucking day, you just end up resenting all the cute couples who come
in for coffee dates, who hold hands with each other while they’re waiting in line, who lean in for
kisses while they’re sitting across the café tables from each other and it makes you want to fucking
scream and throw boiling hot coffee on them because they’re just reminding you of what you can’t
have and never will have because you’re just some homeless, broke loser who no one will ever
love.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung says, “guess I haven't met anyone that interested me.” And, before he
can stop himself, he adds, “You don’t count.”

The words just slip out of him and for a second Taehyung wishes he could take them back. But it’s
the truth, isn’t it? Jungkook is just using him for his body and Taehyung is just using him for his
money, they’re just using each other. It’s not real. Whatever ‘relationship’ they have with each
other isn’t real.

Jungkook stiffens and he glances up at Taehyung but in his eyes isn’t anger or hatred but what
looks like sorrow. Sorrow and disappointment and just a pure, deep unhappiness. An unhappiness
that echoes in Taehyung’s own heart.

Jungkook looks back down, releasing Taehyung’s wrist only to slide his hand down so that his
fingertips are brushing against Taehyung’s hand, delicately, gently. “No,” he says softly. “I guess I
don’t.”

Then he pulls his hand away and leaves the penthouse without another word, closing the door
behind him with a quiet ‘click.’

Taehyung stares after him, that weird ache rising in his chest again as he glances down at his hand.
He runs his fingertips of his other hand over the place where Jungkook had touched him, unable to
shake the feeling that as soon as Jungkook had pulled away, Taehyung hadn’t wanted him to.

Chapter End Notes

Preview for the next chapter:

'Someone makes a strangled choking noise and Taehyung looks up--right into Jwi
Haechung’s ugly rat face. Jwi is sitting directly across from them, a cigar in his hand,
his bloodshot eyes wide and staring. If Taehyung thought he looked like he had been
run over by a truck before, his expression now matches his face--Jwi looks like he’s
just been hit by a bus.'

Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)

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 Chapter 7
Chapter Summary

Welcome to the Party...

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“Taehyung.”

There’s a hand on his shoulder, shaking him awake and Taehyung opens his eyes to see Jungkook
sitting on the bed beside him. “Hm?” he says sleepily. “What?”

“I want a massage.”

Taehyung blinks at him in the darkness, trying to see by the expression on Jungkook’s face if he’s
actually being serious right now. “So go see a masseuse, what the fuck does that have to do with
me?”

“I want a massage from you.” He stands up and shrugs out of his jacket, starts to unbutton his shirt.
“There’s massage oil in the bathroom underneath the sink.”

Taehyung stares up at him. “Are you kidding me－”

“Taehyung, I’ve had a very long fucking day, I’m tired and I just want this one fucking thing
before I go to sleep. Is that really too much to ask of my own personal escort?”

“Jesus Christ, fine.” Taehyung gets up and storms into the bathroom, flicking on the light and
opens the cupboard underneath the sink, hunting for the massage oil. He finds a bottle of Shunga
Aphrodisiac Warming Oil in Vanilla Fetish that’s never been opened. Taking the plastic off the
cap, he unscrews it and gives it a cautious sniff. And wouldn’t you know it, it smells exactly like
vanilla, warm and sweet and sugary. It brings to mind the vanilla frappuccinos he had made when
he worked at Starbucks. God, it seems so long ago now.

He goes back into the bedroom to find Jungkook shirtless and stretched out on his stomach, his
head resting on the pillow, eyes closed. Taehyung thinks he might have just dozed off already but
then his eyes open, peering at Taehyung through the shadows of the room. “Are you just going to
stand there, princess, or are you going to give me a massage?”

“I don’t know why you’d want a massage from me,” Taehyung says irritably. “It’s not like I’ve had
a lot of practice doing them before.”

“Whatever. It’s just a fucking back rub, it’s not fucking rocket science.” Jungkook sighs, closing
his eyes again. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

Taehyung huffs but decides that the best thing to do is just stop arguing and get this over with so he
can go back to sleep. Tentatively, he sits down beside Jungkook on the edge of the bed, still naked,
wondering if he should maybe put some clothes on first. He’s just contemplating making a dash for
the closet to at least put some boxers on when Jungkook speaks.
“Straddle me.”

“Um…what?”

“Straddle my hips. It’ll be easier for you, you won’t have to twist your back as much.”

“Er…okay…” Feeling extremely apprehensive, Taehyung moves and swings his leg over
Jungkook’s body so that he’s essentially sitting on top of his butt, one knee on either side of his
hips.

This is fine, he thinks as he drizzles some massage oil out onto his hand, this is totally fine, I’m just
sitting naked on top of Seoul’s most powerful mob leader and I’m about to give him a massage,
haha, no biggie.

But it’s a bit hard to ignore how fast his heart is drumming in his chest.

Taking a deep breath, he reaches out and runs his oil-slicked palms over the warm expanse of
Jungkook’s back, starting near his shoulders and working his way down. He doesn’t really know
what he’s doing so he alternates between rubbing and kneading motions, trying to concentrate on
what his hands are doing and not on how solid Jungkook’s muscles feel underneath his fingertips.

But this goes right out the window when Jungkook lets out an absolutely filthy groan when
Taehyung starts in on his lower back. Taehyung stills, feeling his ears burn, an entire rush of heat
going through him, straight to his groin. He bites his lip. Definitely should have put boxers on.

“Um…feel okay?” he asks hesitantly.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Jungkook moans, his voice muffled by the pillow. “You’re really good with your
hands, baby doll…”

Taehyung repeats the motion, eliciting another groan of pleasure from Jungkook and, in addition to
a pair of boxers, Taehyung wishes he had a pair of earmuffs or something to block out the sounds
Jungkook is making. Quickly, he reaches down and readjusts himself before going back to
massaging Jungkook. Oh, god, just don’t poke him with it!

“So, is everything ready?” he asks loudly, trying to distract himself. “For tomorrow night, I mean?”

“Mm hmm,” Jungkook mumbles. “It’s all going according to plan…we got a confirmation that
Jwi’s definitely going to be at the Party…”

“Okay, um, good.”

To Taehyung’s surprise, Jungkook had actually allowed him to attend the meeting where they
worked out a plan to take down Jwi, like Yoongi had suggested. He had been a bit intimidated
going to Yoongi’s apartment and seeing Jungkook’s inner circle again, feeling more out of his
depth this time because he wasn’t making an attempt to win them over, wasn’t trying to get one
over on Jungkook. But they had been welcoming just the same, Namjoon and Seojoon smiling at
him and shaking his hand, even Yoongi giving him a nod of greeting. Jimin had been there too,
giving him a hug, apparently having a place at the meeting too based on the simple fact that he
now lived with Yoongi. And then there had been Bogum, bouncing around him like an eager
puppy.

“Hey, Taehyung-ssi!” he said, beaming at him. “Come sit beside me!”

“Um…okay…”
Bogum had pulled out a chair for him at Yoongi’s dining table and then dropped down into the
seat next to him, propping his head on his hand and gazing at him. “Do you like anime, Taehyung-
ssi? What sorts of shows do you watch? I usually watch sports anime, Haikyuu! and Free!, you
know, but I also really like－”

There had been a great clattering sound as Jungkook shoved a chair between Taehyung and Bogum,
forcing them to make room for him as he squeezed in between them, draping a possessive arm
around the back of Taehyung’s chair and glaring at Bogum. Jin, who had taken a seat on the other
side of Taehyung, shifted his chair a few inches away from him. Taehyung gave Jungkook an
annoyed look but Jungkook just gave him a hard stare before turning to face the other men sitting
around the table and Taehyung hadn’t known whether to yell at Jungkook or start laughing at him.

“So,” Jungkook said, “what’s our strategy?”

The meeting had lasted three hours as they talked about various schemes, certain contingencies,
what may or may not go wrong. Taehyung had mostly listened unless a question was directed at
him or concerned him.

Was it necessary for Taehyung to even be there? Couldn’t they just make Jwi think Taehyung was
going to be at the Party? (This was asked by Jungkook.)

Once they had established that, yes, it was necessary for Taehyung to be there if they wanted to get
Jwi where they wanted him, they moved onto issues of safety.

One of us should definitely be around Taehyung at all times, right? (Bogum.) I mean, at no point
should he be left on his own? (Bogum again.)

Jungkook and the rest of them had agreed on this but when Bogum had tentatively raised his hand
and opened his mouth to volunteer, Jungkook had said, “Jin, you’ll be coming into the Party with
us. The rest of you will be stationed outside. The fewer members of the Yong Jegug that are in
attendance, the better. That way, Jwi won’t suspect a trap.”

Bogum had shut his mouth and put his hand down, looking extremely disappointed.

“He still might suspect a trap,” Yoongi said. “He’s definitely got a few screws loose but he’s not
stupid.”

“He’s been getting careless, though,” Jungkook replied. “That little stunt he pulled with Jinx was
clever, getting Jimin’s name out of her and sending in that Minho guy as a ruse because he knew
Jimin would never tell him anything directly. But he fucked up when he told Minho his real name,
didn’t cover his tracks well enough. I’m thinking his obsession with Taehyung is clouding his
judgment.” His hand had involuntarily tightened on the back of Taehyung’s chair as he said this.

After a couple more hours of discussion, they had come up with what Taehyung considered to be a
fairly simple plan: Let it slip that Taehyung, the desirable dove, would be attending the Party with
Jungkook and let the underworld grapevine do its thing. They would use Hobi as their
rumormonger, pay him a fee to ensure that the crucial information was fed to the right people who
would then go on to feed it to Jwi. Once at the Party, Taehyung would be there as bait to taunt Jwi,
playing the part of Jungkook’s smitten whore in order to push him off balance so that he would end
up storming out of the party－and into the waiting arms of the rest of the members of the Yong
Jegug. They had decided that the poker game would be the best time to do this and as soon as Jwi
walked out, Jungkook would give the signal through text message so that the others would be
ready for him.
“What do you think?” Jungkook had asked Taehyung quietly while the others had been going over
the finer details of the plan. “Think you can act like you’re absolutely crazy about me while we’re
at the party?”

Taehyung had given him a sardonic look. “I think I can fake it for one night.”

“Oh, really?” Jungkook had smirked and leaned in close, whispering in his ear. “That’s funny, you
don’t usually have to fake it with me.” Then he had placed his hand on Taehyung’s thigh and given
it a suggestive squeeze, causing Taehyung to jump up from his chair and blurt out that he needed to
use the bathroom. Jimin had pointed him in the general direction and Taehyung had left the table,
his cheeks flaming.

That had been just a few nights ago and since then, Jungkook and the rest of the Yong Jegug had
been so busy putting the plan into action, getting everything ready, that he had hardly been at the
penthouse at all, only coming in to get a few hours of sleep before going out again. So Jungkook
hadn’t been requesting any ‘services’ from him over the last few days and Taehyung figures that’s
the only reason why he’s got a boner right now while giving him a massage. He’s just really pent
up, that’s all. It has nothing to do with touching Jungkook, rubbing warm oil into his back…

Jungkook shifts underneath him, groaning again as Taehyung works on a knot in his lower back.
“So,” he says, “is this massage going to have a happy ending?”

“I suppose that’s your call,” Taehyung replies, trying to sound indifferent but he can’t disguise the
little hitch in his voice as he says it.

“I think I’d like that,” Jungkook whispers. He turns around, forcing Taehyung to lift his hips up to
allow Jungkook to lie down on his back, facing him. “I think I’d like that very much…”

“O-okay.” Determinedly not looking at him, Taehyung fumbles with the front of Jungkook’s
trousers, undoing the fastenings and taking out his cock, already rock hard and leaking. His own
cock twitches as he takes it into his hand and gives it a slow stroke, hoping that it’s dark enough in
the room to disguise his own arousal. Come on, it’s just a handjob, you can do this…

But he can’t hide the little startled noise he makes as Jungkook trails a hand up his thigh,
tantalizingly close to his erection. “You’re so fucking cute,” Jungkook says in a low voice. “Such a
hellcat outside of the bedroom but still so fucking shy when it comes to sex…can’t even look me in
the face while you stroke my cock…”

Taehyung’s cheeks burn as he pumps his hand up and down Jungkook’s cock, the massage oil
making everything slippery and smooth. “Just t-trying to concentrate.”

“Oh?” Taehyung gasps as Jungkook suddenly wraps his hand around his erection and squeezes. “Is
that why you’re hard right now, baby doll? Because you’re concentrating?”

Taehyung squirms on top of Jungkook, his hand faltering as Jungkook strokes his own hand over
Taehyung’s cock. “It’s the, um, aphrodisiacs in the - fuck - oil…”

Jungkook chuckles, a low, raspy sound that seems to ripple through Taehyung. “Sure, baby doll.
Blame it on the fucking oil.” He takes his hand away and Taehyung whimpers at the loss of
pleasure, unable to keep himself from wrapping his other hand around his cock just to get some
relief as he continues to stroke Jungkook.

But then Jungkook gently pushes Taehyung’s hand away from his cock. “I changed my mind,”
Jungkook says. “I’m going to jerk off to the sight of you making yourself come.”
Taehyung winces at the thought of doing something so private in front of someone else, especially
Jungkook. “I d-don’t－”

“Do it,” Jungkook commands. “Wrap your hand around that pretty cock of yours and make
yourself come. I’m not going to ask you again.”

Feeling as if his entire body is on fire, Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut and does as he’s told,
taking his aching cock in his hand and beginning to stroke. His breath catches in his throat as he
hears the slick sounds of Jungkook working his hand over his own cock, flinches when he feels
Jungkook’s other hand sliding over his hip, reaching down to cup his ass.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” Jungkook breathes.

“N-nothing. I’m not thinking about anything.”

“Liar,” Jungkook says. “You’re thinking about me, aren’t you?” He runs his fingertips over the
cleft of Taehyung’s ass, drawing teasing circles around his hole, causing him to gasp. “You’re
thinking about how badly you want my cock in that tight little hole of yours…you’re dying for me
to fuck you right now…”

“N-no.” Taehyung shakes his head, swallowing back the moan that wants to escape him even as he
moves his hand faster. “No. I’m not…”

But even though he’s determinedly keeping his eyes closed, not looking at Jungkook, his mind is
still overflowing with images of the man lying right underneath him.

Jungkook spanking him, Jungkook in the shower, muscled chest dripping wet, biceps flexing,
Jungkook’s hands and Jungkook’s mouth and Jungkook’s body all over him, doing things they
hadn’t done before, his hands tangled in Jungkook’s hair as Jungkook fucks him, moving over him,
inside of him, taking everything from him…

“Just admit it, baby,” Jungkook says silkily, his voice hypnotizing in the darkness. “Just admit that
you love the way I fuck you, that you’re always craving my cock and I’ll give it to you…”

Taehyung lets out a sob, shaking his head again. If he admits it, if he gives in, Jungkook will have
complete control over him and Taehyung will never be able to leave, he won’t want to because it
would be far too easy to allow himself to fall under Jungkook’s dark spell, to fall into Jungkook’s
voice and Jungkook’s arms and Jungkook’s eyes, falling into that black abyss where he’ll stay and
just be Jungkook’s whore forever…

He tries to block out the images but they keep coming in a steady flood and there’s no way for
Taehyung to stem the tide.

Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook…

Taehyung cries out as he comes, shuddering on top of Jungkook, splaying a hand on his chest to
steady himself as he spills onto his hand, his stomach but it’s not enough, not nearly enough,
because he does want Jungkook to fuck him, wants Jungkook’s cock inside of him, fucking him
into oblivion.

Jungkook groans - fuck, I’m coming - and Taehyung feels his body tense underneath him as he
climaxes. He opens his eyes to see Jungkook gazing up at him, pupils blown, his expression
hungry, intense.

“Fuck, come here,” he whispers, reaching up and cupping his hand around the back of Taehyung’s
neck, pulling him down to him, his lips parted－

“No, don’t!” Taehyung twists his face away and Jungkook swears, pushing him off, getting up and
storming into the bathroom, leaving Taehyung sprawled naked on the sheets, his heart racing.

When Jungkook comes back out, his hair is slightly damp, face gleaming as if he had just splashed
water on it. He stands by the bed, hands shoved in his pockets, looking at Taehyung but not really
seeming to see him. “That was out of line and I apologize,” he says stiffly. “You can be assured
that it’s not going to happen again.” He jerks his head towards the bathroom door. “Go take a
shower. Get cleaned up.”

Taehyung does as he’s told and when he comes back out into the bedroom, Jungkook isn’t there.
When he hesitantly peeks out the door, he sees Jungkook sitting at the dining table, facing away
from him, his head in his hands.

***

“Jimin, please don’t poke me in the eye.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I’m not going to poke you in the eye. Stop fidgeting.”

Taehyung and Jimin are in Jungkook’s bathroom, his friend having volunteered to do Taehyung’s
makeup for the Party tonight. At least, that’s what he’s attempting to do but Taehyung keeps
flinching every time Jimin gets the eyeliner pencil anywhere near his eye.

“I don’t know what your problem is,” Jimin huffs, coming at him with the pencil again. “You had
your makeup done at the Bird Cage.”

“Yeah, and that sucked too. I felt like Hobi’s makeup artist was trying to gouge my eyes out.”

Jimin smirks. “That’s because he was a sadistic son of a bitch. In fact, I’m sure Hobi hired him for
that very reason.” He gives Taehyung a reassuring pat on the cheek. “I’ll be gentle, I promise. I’m
just doing eyeliner, mascara, and some Lip Smacker. And a little bit of blush, that’s it. Ooh, but
maybe we should do some glittery eyeshadow too－”

“Jimin－”

“Okay, okay, we’ll nix the eyeshadow. Now just hold still. I’d like to finish doing your makeup
sometime this week.”

Taehyung complies, closing his eyes and allowing Jimin to swipe the eyeliner pencil along his
lashline with only a minimum of grumbling. They’re both quiet for a few minutes and then Jimin
speaks.

“I hope everything goes okay tonight,” he says softly. “I kinda hate that you’re putting yourself in
danger, Tae. Or, I hate that he’s putting you in danger.”

“I agreed to do this, Jimin,” Taehyung says. “It’ll be fine. As long as we stick to the plan, I don’t
see how anything could go wrong.” He pauses, his eyes watering as Jimin brushes on some
mascara. “I’m just glad that you’re not going to be there.”

Jimin makes a tsking noise. “No, I get it, you don’t want me around, it’s fine. God, and here I was
thinking we were friends－”

“You know what I mean, Jimin.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jimin says, smiling at him. “You’re almost as bad as Yoongi, you know. Way too
overprotective.”

When Jimin had hesitantly floated the idea of coming to the Party as well, to lend moral support as
well as maybe some extra security, both Taehyung and Yoongi had shouted him down, saying that
it was too dangerous, that it was unnecessary. Jungkook had just outright laughed at him.

“Yes, I can see it now, all those tough gang leaders quaking in their boots because Taehyung is
accompanied by the world’s tiniest bodyguard. And Jwi will no doubt be so intimidated by you that
he’ll just turn himself over to us right then and there, saving us a whole lot of trouble.” He let out a
derisive snort. “God, why didn’t I think of that.”

Jimin had looked like he was either going to protest or throw a chair at Jungkook (a feeling
Taehyung could definitely identify with), but it had been Yoongi who had ultimately persuaded
Jimin to stay out of it, that if he was at the Party as well, Yoongi wouldn’t be able to focus on
protecting Taehyung because he would be too worried about protecting Jimin.

“Can I ask you something?” Taehyung says as Jimin dusts some pink blush onto the apples of his
cheeks with a soft, fluffy brush.

“You just did,” Jimin says cheekily. “But go on, ask me another.”

“How did you meet Yoongi? Like, how did you get involved with him?”

The brush stills on Taehyung’s face as Jimin considers him. “I guess I haven’t told you that story
yet, have I?” and Taehyung shakes his head.

“Well,” Jimin says carefully, moving to apply blush to Taehyung’s other cheek now. “He won me
on my auction night at the Bird Cage.”

“Oh.” Jimin had told him before, weeks ago when Taehyung had been freaking out about his own
auction night, that the man who had bid on him had been kind and respectful and not at all rough or
domineering. Maybe you’ll get lucky like I did…But he had never actually told Taehyung who it
was until now. Although Taehyung had already had his suspicions about how Jimin and Yoongi
had met and now his friend had just confirmed it.

“What was it like? Your auction night, I mean?” Taehyung doesn’t mean to pry but he can’t help
but feel curious as to how Jimin’s auction night differed from his own. “You don’t have to tell me
if you don’t want to－”

“No, I don’t mind. It was…amazing.” Jimin pulls back and lets the blush brush fall away from
Taehyung’s face as he glances to the side, a slight frown line creasing his forehead as he
reminisces. “But, god, I remember being so scared that I just burst into tears as soon as Yoongi
walked in.” He smiles, looking back at Taehyung. “And then he just kind of paused by the door
and said something like, ‘fuck, I knew I was ugly but I didn’t think I was that ugly.’ And that made
me laugh so I told him that I didn’t think he was ugly at all, I thought he was quite handsome…”
Jimin sighs, tapping the brush against his leg. “So he asked me why I was crying and I told him
that it was just because I was really nervous so he came and sat beside me and told me that it was
okay, that he wasn’t going to force me into doing anything, he just wanted to spend some time with
me.” There’s a soft look in his eyes as he speaks. “So I remember we just laid down on the bed and
talked for a while.”

“Really? About what?”

Jimin shrugs. “Oh, all sorts of things, I can’t even remember half of what we talked about.
Although I do remember him telling me a story about this one time he and a friend almost got
killed jumping from rooftop to rooftop around the Dongjak district because some rival gang
members were chasing them. Come to think of it, he was probably talking about Jungkook.”

Jimin’s words conjure up an image in Taehyung’s mind of Jungkook leaping off a roof like one of
those parkour enthusiasts he’s seen on YouTube and it almost makes him want to smile for some
reason. It’s kind of fun to imagine Jungkook, Mr. Big Boss Man, in his designer suit and handmade
leather shoes, pulling off Spider-Man stunts.

“So…you two didn’t end up having sex?”

“Oh no, we fucked,” Jimin says, laughing. “But…it kind of felt like more than that, you know?”
His face sobers, a hint of pink glowing on his round cheeks. “There was this lull in the
conversation at one point and we were just looking at each other and then he told me I was
beautiful.” Jimin’s blush deepens and his eyes look slightly misty. “And then…he kissed me. I
didn’t think I was going to do that but it just felt right.”

Jimin looks down, absently patting the brush against his palm and Taehyung takes the opportunity
to compose himself. Because he can’t help but feel envious that Jimin’s auction night had been
romantic, that he had been lucky enough to have been won by someone who was kind and gentle
and patient while Taehyung had been…used. There was no other way to put it, Jungkook had used
him and was using him still. Just like Taehyung was using Jungkook, only in a different way. Yes,
it felt good and it was pleasurable but the sex between them would never be mutual or romantic or
intimate, it would always be some sort of transaction or power play.

Bitch. Whore. Slut.

Taehyung had known what he had been signing up for when he agreed to become Jungkook’s
personal escort and that he doesn’t have any right to complain about being used by him. But
sometimes, god, just sometimes he wants a sensual caress or a whispered endearment, just some
subtle thing to make him forget that Jungkook is paying him for sex. He’s crazy for wanting these
things from Jungkook, he knows full well the type of person he is. But he can’t help it sometimes.

He’d even settle for Jungkook calling him beautiful. Just once.

“So what happened after that?” Taehyung says to distract himself from his thoughts. “After your
auction night, I mean?”

“Well, I thought it was just going to be a one-time thing,” Jimin says, finally putting the brush
down and picking up a tube of Strawberry Lip Smacker. “I didn’t really know how to process what
I was feeling at the time. I just knew that I liked him and wanted to see him again but it wasn’t like
it had been a date or anything so I couldn’t really be like ‘hey, let’s go see a movie on Friday.’” He
uncaps the lip balm and gently applies it to Taehyung’s lips, the scent of artificial strawberry
tickling his nostrils. “But then he came back a couple nights after that. And then a few nights after
that. Soon, he was requesting that I go out on ‘dates’ with him but they felt like real dates, like he
took me to dinner and then one time we went clubbing at the Octagon. And one time we had a
nighttime picnic on the roof of his apartment building.” Jimin sighs, a dreamy expression on his
face. “How could I help falling for him? When I was with him, I didn’t feel like a whore at all, I
felt as if he liked me for who I really was.” He puts the cap back on the lip balm, a flicker of
sadness in his eyes. “It was hard to sleep with other men once I realized that I was in love with
him,” he whispers. “But I just tried to compartmentalize it as best I could. And I wouldn’t let
anybody else kiss me. That was something I could hold onto, something I could save for just him,
you know?”

Taehyung nods. He understands a little bit of what Jimin is saying. He had put that ‘no kissing’
stipulation in his contract with Jungkook for a reason, because he still wants to save his first kiss
for someone special. The only problem is, Taehyung doesn’t know who he’s even saving it for.
Doesn’t know if that ‘special someone’ even exists for him.

Jimin heaves another sigh, running a hand through his hair. “But it got harder and harder, because I
knew I was in love with him but I wasn’t sure if he felt the same way, like I knew he cared about
me but I started to doubt whether it was as real for him as it was for me. Like, he’d come see me or
take me out on a date and as soon as he left, I’d just start crying. I felt so confused. But then he
came to me one night, really late, I hadn’t even been expecting him and then we…made love.”
Jimin’s lips tilt up at the corners. “God, I know that sounds super cheesy but there’s no other way
of putting it. And he told me he loved me too so that kind of sealed the deal. He said he was going
to talk to Hobi about signing an exclusivity contract with me so I could get out of the Bird Cage
and we could finally be together…” Jimin trails off, crossing his arms over his chest, a shadow
passing over his face. “But then…”

Taehyung kind of wants Jimin to stop talking because he’s got a pretty good idea of what’s coming
but he stays silent, waiting, listening.

“Then I didn’t see him for weeks after that,” Jimin continues in a small voice. “Three entire weeks,
not a single word from him. I was devastated.” Jimin blinks rapidly and then his face hardens, his
jaw clenching. “And then it wasn’t Yoongi who came to see me, but Jungkook.”

Taehyung’s heart leaps into his throat. “But you said－”

“No, not like that. I told you, I never had to sleep with him, he only came to talk to me.” Jimin
purses his lips. “He sat me down at the bar and he told me that he was the new leader of the Yong
Jegug and that there would be no exclusivity contract between me and Yoongi, that he didn’t want
his second-in-command being distracted by some ‘greedy whore.’ And he said that if I tried to
contact Yoongi or if we tried to meet in secret, then he would ‘remove a certain part of Yoongi’s
anatomy that would make him far less appealing to me.’ Fucking asshole, I was ready to smash a
glass over his head.” He sniffs, swallowing thickly before going on. “Yoongi still came to see me
in secret but not as often as before. And I begged him to leave the Yong Jegug, I told him that he
didn’t owe that fucker anything but he told me that he couldn’t leave, that there was something that
he still needed to do, something that he was responsible for. He never told me what it was though.
Still won’t tell me,” he concludes bitterly.

Taehyung doesn’t know what to say to that. Because, yes, Jimin and Yoongi were together now but
that still didn’t excuse Jungkook for separating them in the first place, for using his position as
leader to involve himself in their relationship, keep them apart. And what possible reason could
Jungkook have had for not letting Yoongi and Jimin see each other anymore?

“But why, though?” he asks, finding himself voicing his own thoughts. “Why would Jungkook－”

“I don’t know,” Jimin says, sounding irritable. “Yoongi won’t tell me that, either. Maybe he was
jealous that Yoongi had someone who actually gave a damn about him and Jungkook didn’t. Or
maybe it was because he was on some sort of power trip and becoming the leader of the most
powerful mob in Seoul went to his head. Needed to show everyone who was boss, you know?” He
tilts his head, a strange smile on his face. “But you want to know what I think really happened?”

“What?” The word comes out in a whisper, Taehyung’s pulse thumping loudly in his ears.

“I think Jungkook killed the previous leader of the Yong Jegug. His father or uncle or whoever it
was. I think he murdered him so he could become the new leader and I think Yoongi’s covering for
him.”

Taehyung goes very still as he remembers what Jungkook had told him when he had asked about
his father.

He’s dead. Both my parents are.

He doesn’t really want to believe it but why shouldn’t he? It seems all too possible that Jungkook
had killed his own father to take the leadership of the Yong Jegug for himself. He thinks of
Jungkook’s ‘initiation,’ how his father had pointed a gun at his own son’s head and been ready to
kill him. Was it really so far fetched to think that Jungkook had eventually gone on to do the same
thing, to turn the tables on him?

There are two thoughts clashing in Taehyung’s mind and he doesn’t know which one he’s more
drawn towards.

No, it can’t be true and Good fucking riddance.

“Well,” he says slowly. “I don’t really know what to think about that. But at least you and Yoongi
are together now, right?”

“Yeah…I suppose.” Jimin wrinkles his nose slightly. “Still can’t believe I have Jungkook to thank
for that. Ugh, I think I hate him even more now because now I feel like I actually owe that bastard
something. But if he thinks he can call in any favors from me, he can fucking forget it.” He chews
on his bottom lip, his expression distant. “But I do get to be with Yoongi now so…”

Something of Taehyung’s hidden envy must have shown on his face because Jimin frowns at him.
“Tae? What is it?”

“Nothing,” Taehyung says quickly. “I’m just really happy for you guys.” He tries to smile. “I
mean, I’m glad everything worked out for you. In the end.”

Jimin studies him closely for a few seconds and then reaches for his hands and pulls him closer.
“Tae, I want you to listen to me,” he says softly, voice full of quiet sincerity. “After your contract is
up, you are going to be able to leave here and you are going to find someone who loves you and
values you and treats you the way that you deserve. I promise.” He squeezes Taehyung’s hands
before reaching up and tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. “You’re going to break a lot of
hearts along the way, kid, but once you find someone worthy of you, you will love and be loved
and everything will be wonderful. And Jungkook will just be miserable and lonely and live an
empty, sexless life because he’ll realize after you’ve left that nobody compares to you in any way.”
He gives him a mischievous grin. “And you’ll forget all about him because you’ll be living happily
ever after with someone else.”

Taehyung tries to smile back but can’t quite manage it. He tries to find the words to agree with
Jimin but his throat is too tight. He wants to believe what Jimin is telling him, that he will go on to
find that fairy-tale love that his friend had found with Yoongi but…he doesn’t. He doesn’t believe
he’ll find it. Because, honestly, who would love him? Who would look at his damaged, bitter heart
and be like ‘yep, sign me up!’ Who would be willing to make the promise to stay by his side and,
what’s more, be able to keep that promise? Because Taehyung has loved before, a different kind of
love for his mother than it might be with a romantic partner, but a profound, deep love all the
same. And it had nearly shattered him into a million pieces when she had left him. Maybe she
hadn’t left him by choice but she had still left him. Left him alone and confused and angry, to the
point where he thinks he’s liable to lash out at anyone who tries to get too close just because he’s
so scared of loving someone again only to have that person be ripped away. Who, in their right
mind, would want to deal with that?

It’s a question that he can’t bring himself to voice to Jimin but a question that echoes in his mind
just the same.

Who would ever love someone like me?

“Are you finished yet?”

Taehyung and Jimin turn to see Jungkook standing in the doorway, scowling at them. But then he
blinks when he sees Taehyung, his eyes roving over his face. “You look nice,” he says roughly, as
if he’s reluctant to admit it. Then he turns to Jimin. “You actually did a better job than I thought
you were going to.”

“Oh, I am ever so pleased you think so,” Jimin says sarcastically. Then he faces Taehyung again,
pulling him in for a hug. “Be careful, okay?” he whispers in his ear. He steps back, giving his
shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “When this is all done, we’ll have another movie night. Or we’ll
actually go see a movie, since you’ll be able to go outside again.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, forcing a smile. “Sounds like a plan.”

Jimin leaves, deliberately knocking his shoulder into Jungkook as he passes him, although since
he’s quite a bit shorter, all he does is kind of graze Jungkook’s elbow. He gives Taehyung one last
wave and then he’s gone, leaving him alone with Jungkook.

Jungkook pokes his tongue into his cheek, giving him another once-over and then jerks his head
towards the bedroom. “I’ve got your clothes laid out already.”

Taehyung nods and skirts past him, heaving a sigh when he sees the outfit laid out for him on the
bed. Lingerie. Of course it’s fucking lingerie.

Taehyung rubs his hand self-consciously up and down his arm. “Why can’t I wear a suit, too?” he
asks, nodding at Jungkook’s own black suit, complete with his ever-present black button-down
shirt.

Jungkook comes to stand beside him, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Because you’ll be going
there as my whore, Taehyung. Which, I don’t know if you remember this, but that’s what you are
anyway. So I’m not paying you to wear a suit, I’m paying you to wear this.” He rubs a hand over
his eyes. “Believe me, I’m not exactly thrilled at the prospect of all those men ogling you while
you’re wearing something like this. But you have to look the part. So would you just go get
changed, please?”

Deciding not to waste time getting into an argument that he’ll ultimately end up losing, Taehyung
gathers up the various scraps of lingerie and heads into the bathroom to change. A bit prudish
maybe, not wanting to change in front of Jungkook, but the outfit includes a garter belt and
stockings and no one looks sexy strapping into garments like these.
He takes off his tee shirt and sweatpants, stepping into the black lace panties and pulling them on.
At least it’s not a thong and his ass won’t be hanging out. Next come the garter belt and the
stockings but he leaves the little garter straps for last because they always end up being the trickiest
part. The black satin slip is next, pulling it over his head, the spaghetti straps so thin, Taehyung
feels like they might just snap off completely if he adjusts them too much and the slip will fall
away from his body, pooling at his feet. At least the slip is sort of like clothing, although the hem
is so short, he knows that he’s just going to be tugging it down all night, trying to cover himself.
Last is the purple silk robe Jungkook had bought for him at the Shinsegae department store a
couple of months ago and he’s grateful for this too, seeing as it provides even more coverage. Still,
he feels quite naked and he’s sure he’s going to be blushing the entire time they’re at the Party,
essentially parading around in his underwear. Of course, he had had qualms about sitting in the
cage at Hobi’s brothel on his auction night in the white lace lingerie but he had been far more
worried about the prospect of losing his virginity to a stranger so that had only been a secondary
concern.

Finally he fiddles with the garter straps, managing to get the front two straps and one of the back
ones clipped onto the stockings without too much trouble but the last one seems to be particularly
finicky, not wanting to cooperate and attach itself to the top of the stupid stocking. Or maybe he’s
having trouble with it because his hands are trembling slightly.

Frustrated, he puts his leg up on the bathroom counter, seeing if he can get a better angle that way
and he feels like he’s almost got it when Jungkook knocks on the door.

“What the fuck is taking you so long?”

“God, just a minute!” Taehyung snaps, his fingers slipping on the strap. “I’ve almost got it, just
hold your fucking horses－”

The bathroom door swings open and Taehyung’s head jerks up, his hands stilling on the strap as
Jungkook barges in, his expression impatient. But then he pauses on the threshold, his eyebrows
shooting up as he stares at Taehyung, his gaze following the line of Taehyung’s leg still propped up
on the sink.

Taehyung hastily puts his foot down, feeling his face heat. “It’s this stupid clip,” he mumbles. “I
can’t get it on.”

Jungkook licks his lips and steps closer, turning Taehyung to face the mirror while he stands right
behind him. “I’ll do it.”

Taehyung determinedly keeps his eyes down, refusing to look at the expression on his face as he
feels Jungkook push the robe and the slip aside, his hands skimming over Taehyung’s thigh as he
clips the garter strap on. He feels very warm standing behind Taehyung, solid and masculine, and
Taehyung finds himself gripping the edge of the counter to stop himself from leaning back into
him.

“There we go,” Jungkook murmurs, clipping the strap on and tightening it. He lets the robe and the
slip fall back into place and then Taehyung feels Jungkook’s hand on his chin, raising his head so
that he’s forced to look at himself in the mirror. “Look at you,” he purrs, sounding pleased. “I think
you look quite tempting, don’t you?”

Taehyung gazes at his reflection in the mirror, at his eyes, made to look bigger and more sultry
thanks to Jimin’s makeup, at his lips tinted berry ripe with the lip balm, plump and glossy, at his
body swathed in silky soft lingerie, both concealing and revealing him at the same time. He thinks
he looks exactly like what he’s supposed to look like and seeing himself like this makes him feel
like crying.

“I look like a whore,” he says softly. His eyes cut to Jungkook’s reflection and they gaze at each
other through the mirror.

“You are a whore, Taehyung,” Jungkook says. His tone isn’t harsh or rude; he says it simply as if
he’s stating a fact. “You’re my whore. And tonight, I need you to act like there’s nothing else you’d
rather be. Do you think you can do that for me? Because if you don’t, if you give me attitude, or
mouth off to me or whatever, Jwi is going to see that and he’s probably going to think he can play
the long game, sit back and come up with some kind of offer to tempt you away from me. So he’ll
leave, he’ll slip away before we have a chance to grab him and who knows when we’ll have the
opportunity to get to him again. So, I’m going to ask you again: can you do this for me?”

Taehyung stares at Jungkook through the mirror for a few seconds. The short answer is: no. No, he
can’t do this for Jungkook. But he can do it for himself. He can do it so he can go outside again, go
and visit the art galleries he’s been missing or just go browse at a bookstore. He can do it so he’s
not kept locked away like some fairy-tale princess trapped in a tower.

He lifts his chin, looking Jungkook right in the eye. “Yes,” he says firmly. “I can do this.”

“Good.” Jungkook’s lips tilt up into what could almost be considered a smile and then he reaches
into his pocket and pulls something out. “I almost forgot about this,” he says, looping it around
Taehyung’s neck. “The finishing touch.”

It’s a black velvet choker with a small diamond dangling from the middle in the shape of a
teardrop. Taehyung tries not to think about how much it reminds him of a collar. Jungkook adjusts
it, fastening the clasp at the back. “Feel okay?” he murmurs.

“Mm hmm.”

“Yeah? Not too tight?”

“No.”

Jungkook steps back, giving Taehyung one last appraisal in the mirror. “Okay, let’s go.”

After slipping into the shoes Jungkook has provided him, they head out the door and down to the
Lincoln where Jin is waiting to drive them to the Party. The shoes are thankfully not high heeled
stilettos but simple black velvet ballet flats from Chanel.

“I thought about putting you in heels,” Jungkook says on the way down. “But then you’d be taller
than me.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “God forbid.”

Jin gives him a warm smile when they get down to the car, opening the door for him and
Taehyung is glad that it’s him and not someone else who’ll be at the Party with them. It’ll at least
be less nerve-wracking knowing that Jin will be there to watch his back, someone he knows he can
rely on.

Taehyung sits as far away from Jungkook as possible, wrapping his robe around himself and gazing
out the window as Jin drives them to the outskirts of Seoul. Apparently the Party was held at some
big mansion which was 1) not surprising and 2) a good thing for their plan, supposedly, because
that would give the Yong Jegug plenty of time to get into position once Jungkook gave Yoongi the
signal to anticipate Jwi. And lots of room to bundle Jwi away from the prying eyes of other gang
leaders. Because, according to Jungkook, going after a mob leader was…a delicate business. Not
necessarily frowned upon but you did need to have a good reason for doing so if you didn’t want
retaliation from the other leaders. Something to do with ‘honor’ or whatever.

“If they knew we were going after Jwi, they’d want to have a fucking vote on it or something,”
Jungkook had said. “It’s better if we do it ourselves without involving any of the other leaders.”

“Won’t they have a problem with it afterwards?” Taehyung had asked. “Like, once they find out?”

“Not if they’re smart,” Jungkook had replied simply.

Taehyung glances over at Jungkook now, who has his phone out, presumably texting Yoongi who
is already at the Party with the other members of the Yong Jegug, stationed outside somewhere,
hidden away.

Jungkook looks up at him and then slips his phone back in his jacket pocket. “Sounds like Jwi’s
already there,” he says and Taehyung nods. Jungkook drums his fingers along the car door,
considering him. “Nervous?”

“No, not really,” Taehyung says, looking away. “I just want it to be over and done with already,
you know?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says quietly. “I know what you mean.”

After driving in silence for another five minutes, Jin turns the car around a corner and they’re
driving through an open wrought-iron gate and Taehyung gets his first glimpse of the mansion.

“Jesus,” he whispers.

The place is massive, looking more like a medieval castle than a mansion, with towering turret-like
peaks and a sweeping double staircase leading up to the doors. The car rolls slowly along the
seemingly endless driveway, a sprawling green lawn on either side, complete with hedges cut into
the shapes of animals and Taehyung spots a dragon, a fox, and some sort of big cat, either a jaguar
or a leopard by the looks of it.

“Who even lives in a place like this?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Jungkook says casually. “No one really lives here, it’s rented out to hot
shot international tourists throughout most of the year, CEOs and movie stars and people like that.
Every gang leader owns a share of the property so everyone gets a share of the revenue generated
by the place. So you could say it’s like neutral ground. That’s why the Party is held here.” He
smiles grimly. “Also, it’s probably one of the few legitimate income streams that any of the leaders
have.”

Taehyung can’t tear his eyes away from the house. There is a certain beauty to its construction,
he’ll admit, but it’s more ostentatious than anything. Then again, he hadn’t expected the Party to be
held in some flimsy little shack.

“I bet you could fit a dozen coffee shops in there,” Taehyung murmurs to himself. “Maybe even
more.”

He hadn’t meant for anyone else to hear his comment but beside him, he hears Jungkook chuckle.

Jin pulls the car into a large gravel parking area that sits right beside the house and parks the
Lincoln in between an electric blue Lamborghini and a shining black Rolls Royce.
“That’s Nam Kang-Dae’s car,” Jungkook says as he helps Taehyung out of the car, nodding at the
Rolls Royce. “He’s never allowed himself to be driven in anything but a Rolls Royce.”

Taehyung nods vaguely, looking around at the other cars in the parking lot－Bugattis and Ferraris
and other sleek, shining vehicles that he doesn’t know the names of. He may not know what all of
the cars are but he knows one thing for sure－all of them are very expensive. He feels a sudden
mischievous urge to start keying all of them. Or at least do that prank he’s seen on YouTube where
people cover their friends’ cars in post-it notes. He has a vivid image of one of the powerful mob
leaders angrily ripping little colored squares of paper off of his expensive car and he has to swallow
back a laugh. He feels giddy for some reason but he figures that’s just the nerves finally starting to
settle in.

Their feet crunching over the gravel, Taehyung follows Jungkook across the parking area to the
front steps, Jin trailing behind. Music booms through the walls of the house, some hip-hop track
that Taehyung can’t place. He shivers as an icy wind gusts past him, causing his silk slip to cling to
his body and he wraps his robe around himself, trying to keep out the chill. It’s the beginning of
November now and he’s not exactly dressed for cold weather. They climb up the steps, facing the
double doors and Taehyung pauses, craning his neck to take in the enormous house. Another shiver
runs through him but it’s not because of the cold. He hadn’t really given it a lot of thought before
but it’s only now occurring to him how many things could go wrong, all the ways their plan could
fail.

What if they couldn’t provoke Jwi to storm out of the party? Or what if they provoked Jwi into
attacking either him or Jungkook? What if Jwi snuck in a weapon—a knife or, even worse, a gun?

“Hey,” Jungkook says from beside him and Taehyung turns to look at him. “I’m not going to let
anything happen to you.”

Taehyung’s first instinct is to snap at him, tell Jungkook that he doesn’t need to be concerned about
him, he can take care of himself, thank you very much. But there’s something about the way
Jungkook is looking at him right now, something about the way he had said those words, as if he
was making Taehyung a solemn promise to protect him, that holds him back. So instead of
snapping at him, Taehyung nods.

“I know,” he says. “Thanks for saying that.”

Jungkook blinks at him, looking surprised. “You’re welcome.” Then he offers Taehyung his arm
and, after hesitating for a split second, Taehyung takes it, placing his hand on Jungkook’s bicep,
the solid muscle oddly reassuring underneath his palm.

They step up to the doors and they open from the inside, admitting them entrance and they cross
the threshold into the entryway where a metal detector and two huge bodyguards stand waiting for
them. Jin goes through the metal detector first, and then Jungkook, both of them being patted down
by the guards before it’s Taehyung’s turn to step through the detector. But when one of the guards
moves towards him, an eager look on his face, Jungkook stops him, getting in between him and
Taehyung.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Jungkook says irritably. “Does it look like he’s hiding a fucking gun on him
anywhere? See, look,” and suddenly he’s running his hands all over Taehyung’s body, down his
sides and between his legs, turning out the pockets of Taehyung’s robe to show he’s not hiding any
weapons. “He’s clean.”

Taehyung feels his face burn and he quickly occupies himself with looking around the entryway,
taking it in－gleaming white marble floors, high ceilings, and a gigantic crystal chandelier that
looks like it could actually sit several people in its golden arms like tree branches.

“All right, fine,” one of the guards says, waving them through. “Have a good evening, Mr. Jeon.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook says curtly and then he’s tugging Taehyung across the entryway to a door
that opens up into a lounge area, where there’s already quite a few people milling inside.

A huge bar dominates one long wall, countless bottles of alcohol lined up on the shelves behind it.
On the other side of the room are arranged tufted leather sofas and armchairs, occupied by men
wearing suits and women wearing flimsy lingerie like Taehyung. Although one woman is
completely naked, dancing between the legs of one of the men seated on the sofa, running her
hands all over her naked body as she writhes in front of him. The man she’s dancing for isn’t even
paying any attention to her, Taehyung notices. He seems to be too preoccupied talking to the man
sitting opposite him, peering around the dancing woman in order to carry on the conversation.

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook mutters in his ear as he guides him to the bar, his hand on Taehyung’s
lower back, “I’m not going to ask you to do that for me.” Then he smirks. “Not in public anyway.”

Taehyung almost rolls his eyes but then checks himself. You’re supposed to be his lovesick whore,
remember? Don’t roll your eyes!

“I don’t mind, Mr. Jeon,” he says in a breathy voice. “I’ll dance for you if you want.”

He could have sworn Jungkook let out a noise, something that sounded almost like a growl but
then they’re at the bar and Jungkook is lifting Taehyung bodily onto one of the barstools, grabbing
his thighs and roughly pulling him to the edge of the seat so he’s pressed right up against
Jungkook, the other man standing in between his thighs.

“Yeah?” Jungkook says in a low voice. “You wanna dance for me, baby doll?”

“Mm hmm,” Taehyung purrs, putting on what he hopes is a sultry smile, placing his hands on
Jungkook’s shoulders.

“Hmm…maybe later.” He leans in to nuzzle Taehyung’s neck, whispering in his ear. “You’re
doing really good, Taehyung, that’s perfect.”

Taehyung tilts his head in a show of granting Jungkook better access while at the same time
glancing around the room. He frowns when he realizes that Jwi doesn’t seem to be present so their
little ‘show’ is completely wasted on their intended target. He gasps as Jungkook’s lips move over
his throat. Still…it can’t hurt to stay in character in the meantime, part of it is making the other
leaders believe it too…

“You look so fucking good,” Jungkook murmurs, running his hands over Taehyung’s thighs, “fuck,
Taehyung, do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you when this is all over?”

Taehyung isn’t quite sure how to respond to that because he doesn’t know if Jungkook is being
serious or if he’s slipped into his own role too. “I－”

“There’s my little dove!”

Jungkook detaches himself from Taehyung’s neck and they both look around to see Hoseok
bounding over to them, dressed in a red velvet suit. He comes right up to them, leaning in as if he’s
planning on planting a kiss onto Taehyung’s cheek but Jungkook blocks him, shoving him aside
with his elbow.
“Oof,” Hoseok says, wheezing slightly and clutching his ribs. “Chillax JK, chillax, I’m just saying
hi…”

“Well, you can say hi without touching him,” Jungkook says irritably. Then he leans close to
Hoseok and mutters, “Status?” Hoseok whispers something in Jungkook’s ear that Taehyung
doesn’t quite catch and Jungkook nods.

Hoseok turns to Taehyung again, grinning broadly. “You look gorgeous, my darling,” he says,
eyeing him up and down. “Purple’s a good color on you, maybe I should have had you in a set like
this for your auction night…” He reaches a hand out as if he’s going to feel up Taehyung’s robe but
Jungkook knocks his hand away, scowling at him.

“Remember what I said two seconds ago? About not touching him?”

“Okay, okay, jeez, possessive much?” Hoseok pulls his hand back, heaving a sigh. “I gotta go
make sure Chanmi’s prepped for the next show. See ya, kids.” He winks at Taehyung, displaying
his shark’s smile. “Good luck tonight, kiddo. Uncle Hobi’s pulling for ya.”

“Um…thanks?”

And then Hoseok’s striding away, leaving Jungkook and Taehyung alone again.

“What does he mean by ‘show?’” Taehyung asks. “What’s he talking about?”

“Oh, he’s talking about the sex shows they have in one of the other rooms,” Jungkook says,
tapping his fingertips against Taehyung’s knee. “Apparently that’s where Jwi is right now. They’re
still getting things set up for the poker game but it should start in a few minutes.”

“Okay…” Taehyung doesn’t really know what’s involved in a ‘sex show’ and decides he doesn’t
care to be enlightened about it.

“You want a drink?” Jungkook says, nodding at the shelves of alcohol behind Taehyung.

Taehyung cocks an eyebrow at him. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

Jungkook huffs a laugh. “Definitely not. I need you lucid tonight.” He lowers his voice. “It’ll look
weird if you don’t have a drink in your hand, though. So what do you want?”

“Um…what am I allowed to have?” Taehyung says uncertainly, remembering their dinner together
when Jungkook had said that he was going to tell Taehyung what he was allowed to drink when
they were out together. God, it seems like ages ago.

“Hmm…I’m guessing you’re not a big drinker, are you?” and Taehyung shakes his head. Jungkook
studies the rows of alcohol and then signals the bartender over. “Sex on the Beach, please. Just
one.”

“That’s a drink?”

“It’s sweet,” Jungkook says, smirking at him. “You’ll like it.”

The bartender makes up the drink and passes it to Jungkook with a bow who hands it to Taehyung.
He takes the red and orange concoction and takes a dubious sip but is surprised to find the drink
fruity and sweet with the hint of a tang, and he's hardly able to taste any booze.

“This is pretty good,” he admits, taking another sip.

“I told you,” Jungkook says, sounding pleased with himself. “But just make sure you sip it, don’t
chug it. If you’re falling down drunk during the poker tournament, it won’t exactly help our…er…
game.”

Taehyung nods, stirring the drink with the little coloured stick that was poking out of the glass.
“I’ve never played poker before,” he says. “Probably a good thing I won’t be the one playing.”
Jungkook’s hands are still on his thighs and Taehyung casts around for something else to say to
distract himself from the fact that Jungkook is standing so close to him. “So, are you any good? At
poker, I mean?”

“I’m decent,” Jungkook says shrugging. “Yoongi’s better at it, actually, he’s got a really good
poker face. But I tend to win more than I lose so I suppose I have that going for me.” He runs a
finger underneath one of Taehyung’s garter straps, lowering his voice to a husky whisper. “I’ll
show you how to play sometime, if you want. We can play strip poker…”

“Okay, I’d definitely l-lose,” Taehyung says, unable to keep his voice from hitching. “Seems you’d
have an unfair advantage over me.”

“Yeah, that’s the idea,” Jungkook says, giving him a devilish grin. And the sight of Jungkook’s
smile makes something stutter in Taehyung’s chest and he has to look away from him, feeling shy
all of a sudden.

“It’ll be my first time playing as a leader,” Jungkook muses and Taehyung turns back to look at
him. “I’ve been in the room while the game’s been going on and it’s a weird atmosphere, usually.
The leaders crack jokes and shit like that but underneath there’s this underlying tension, like
someone’s masculinity is determined by a hand of cards. It should be pretty easy to rile Jwi up.”

Taehyung nods absently but he’s stuck on something Jungkook had said. It’ll be my first time
playing as leader…

Which only leads him to think about what Jimin had told him earlier. About Jungkook killing his
own father in order to take over the leadership of the Yong Jegug.

“Can I ask you something?” he says quietly.

“Yeah, sure.”

Taehyung hesitates, not daring to look Jungkook in the eye as he asks his question. “Why did you
separate Yoongi and Jimin? Like, why did you keep them apart for so long?”

Jungkook goes very still and when Taehyung risks sneaking a peek at him, his face is blank,
carefully arranged in a neutral expression. “I had my reasons, Taehyung,” he says shortly. “Maybe
they didn’t seem like good reasons to Jimin or Yoongi but they seemed like good reasons to me at
the time. That’s all you need to know.”

Taehyung nods, his other question on the tip of his tongue－Did you really kill your own father?－
but he decides that maybe isn’t the right time to ask that question. And maybe he doesn’t want to
know the answer.

He leans back against the bar, away from Jungkook but keeping his legs spread with Jungkook
standing between them. He casts his eyes around the room, taking in the naked dancing girl, the
other women sitting around the room in their lingerie like ornaments, the men joking with each
other and laughing, hands groping, pawing at the women like animals and he feels nothing but
contempt for all of them, for everyone at this entire stupid Party.
Jungkook chuckles and Taehyung glances back at him. “What?”

“You just have this look on your face,” Jungkook says, a small smile playing around his lips. “Like
you are above every single person in here, like you’d claw out the eyes of any man who so much as
looked at you the wrong way. It’s hot.” He trails his fingertips down Taehyung’s leg, tickling his
knee and Taehyung jerks. “It’s how you looked at me when I first saw you.” He glances up at
Taehyung, amusement in his dark eyes. “You’re like a little－”

“Gentlemen!”

They both turn to see a heavyset man in a navy blue suit standing by the door.

“The poker tournament is about to begin. Would the leaders make their way to the games room,
please.”

Jungkook sighs and steps back. “That’s my cue, I guess.” Taehyung doesn’t move to follow him.
They had discussed beforehand that Taehyung would wait a while before coming into the poker
game, under the guise of bringing Jungkook a drink. Jungkook wanted him to make an entrance,
catch Jwi off guard and throw him off his game.

“Well, um, good luck,” Taehyung says. “Let me know if you need anything. Mr. Jeon,” he adds
quickly and remembers to give Jungkook a vapid smile.

Jungkook studies him for a few seconds and then, taking him completely by surprise, he takes
Taehyung’s hand in his own and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles. “See you soon, baby,” he purrs.
Then he winks at him before he strides away, following the other leaders out of the room.

Taehyung watches him go, his hand tingling on the spot where Jungkook’s lips had brushed
against his skin. He’s going to have to pull himself together, he realizes. He can’t let every single
look and touch from Jungkook affect him. Not tonight.

Not ever.

Jin comes over to him where he had been hovering around the door, sliding onto the barstool
beside him. “Feeling okay, Taehyung-ssi?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He waves a hand, gesturing around the room, at the decorative women and the
smug-faced men－gang members, presumably, not high up enough to join in the poker game.
“This whole thing just feels so weird, you know? Like it all seems so…”

“Artificial?”

“Yeah, maybe that’s the word I’m looking for. Either way, it just all feels kind of surreal.” He
turns back to Jin, shrugging his shoulders. “I just never thought I’d be in a place like this, you
know?”

Jin laughs but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

There’s a troubled sort of expression on Jin’s face and Taehyung wants to ask him so many things
－about himself, about how he really got into the Yong Jegug but he also wants to ask him about
Jungkook. How did he become the leader? Do you know why he interfered with Jimin and
Yoongi’s relationship? And why do I get the feeling sometimes that there’s another side to him, a
side that I only get a rare glimpse of?

But Jin probably wouldn’t tell him anything, even if he considers Taehyung a friend. For, as much
as he’s protective of Taehyung, he gets the feeling that Jin is somewhat protective of Jungkook as
well, in a strange way. And Taehyung knows that having a conversation like that isn’t a good idea
anyways, not in a place like this. But, still, he has so many questions.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jin,” Taehyung says softly, placing a hand on Jin’s arm. He smiles. “I feel a
lot better knowing you’ve got my back. You’re like the brother I never had.”

Taehyung feels Jin tense underneath his hand. “Right,” he says, a sad smile on his face. “Brother.”

Taehyung removes his hand, feeling confused. Why did Jin sound so…defeated? Surely, someone
as good and kind as Jin couldn’t feel that way about him?

“Jin,” Taehyung says, feeling his throat tighten. “I－”

“It’s okay, Taehyung,” Jin says, patting his shoulder. “I’m honored that you see me as a brother.”
He smiles but it looks more like a grimace. “And, no matter what happens, I’ll always consider you
a friend.”

This only leaves Taehyung feeling even more confused. Did Jin actually have…feelings for him?
How can that be possible? Jin is handsome and sweet and seemed to have been able to hang onto
his humanity, despite working for the mob. He had done so much for him, put his life at risk to
protect him but Taehyung had been under the impression that he had been doing it out of a sense of
duty and maybe because they had also developed a sort of brotherly friendship. Or, at least
Taehyung had thought so until now.

The worst part about it is that no matter how much Taehyung wishes he could return Jin’s feelings,
he just…doesn’t. He feels a warm platonic affection for him but nothing more than that. And the
truth is that no matter what he feels towards Jungkook－animosity, contempt, attraction, longing－
his feelings for the leader of the Yong Jegug are anything but platonic. And he hates himself for it.

You deserve so much better, Jin, he wants to say. You deserve so much better than someone like
me.

He opens his mouth to say something, anything to clear the air but then Jin’s phone vibrates and he
takes it out of his jacket pocket to look at it.

“That’s the boss,” Jin says, his tone far too casual. “He’s asking that you bring him a drink now.
Whiskey on the rocks.”

Taehyung waves the bartender over and passes the order on and, before he can take a second to
calm his nerves, he’s following Jin out of the room with the drink in his hand, the ice cubes
clinking around in the glass as they make their way up the sweeping marble staircase and down the
hall to a door at the end.

Two huge guards are stationed at the door but Taehyung keeps his head held high even though he
feels far too exposed to their leering gazes as their eyes travel over his tiny silk slip, his black
stockings.

Jin pauses just before they reach the door, turning to face him. “Good luck, Taehyung-ssi,” he
whispers. “As long as we stick to the plan, everything will be fine.”

Taehyung nods, finding it difficult to speak at the moment. He turns away from Jin and marches up
to the door, looking both the guards right in the face.

“Mr. Jeon requested I bring him a drink,” he says, injecting some breathlessness into his voice to
make himself sound more like the vapid whore he’s supposed to be right now. As an extra
precaution, he puts on his most winning smile. “So help a boy out and let me in?”

The two guards exchange looks before glancing back at him. One of them takes a second to
deliberately rake his gaze over Taehyung’s body before bowing and standing aside, gesturing him
forward.

“Thank you,” Taehyung says brightly as he goes past them. Fuck you, you assholes, under different
circumstances I’d smash this glass over your ugly fucking heads.

Taehyung steps across the threshold and into the room, looking around. It’s a fairly small room,
dominated by the poker table in the center, the top of it covered in green felt. The air is choked
with cigar smoke, swirls of it drifting up towards the ceiling. The leaders sit around the table, cards
in their hands and Taehyung notices a couple of other whores in the room as well－a redheaded
woman decked out in turquoise blue lingerie standing behind one of the men and rubbing his
shoulders; and another male whore, a delicate looking boy wearing nothing but a pair of tight red
briefs sitting in the lap of a gray-bearded man. Taehyung uneasily notes that the boy is wearing a
black leather collar attached to what looks like a dog leash.

And there, lounging in one of the high-backed chairs is Jungkook, his attitude one of easy
nonchalance as if he owns the entire place, right down to the colorful Turkish rugs thrown on the
floor. He looks like the Prince of all that is dark and sensual, sitting on his very own throne.

Taehyung goes to him, automatically drawn to him as if he’s being tugged along a string that
Jungkook holds in his hand, reeling him in. Even if it wasn’t a part of their plan, Taehyung has the
feeling that he would go straight towards Jungkook anyway, that he wouldn’t be able to resist him
if he tried.

It’s a terrifying thought.

As Taehyung comes around the table, Jungkook looks up, his eyes dragging over Taehyung’s
body, landing in certain areas and he feels a warm flush creep up his face but he keeps his eyes
fixed on Jungkook as he approaches him, granting him a soft smile.

Taehyung offers the drink to Jungkook with a submissive bow, keeping his eyes on the floor.
“Thanks, baby doll,” Jungkook says, taking the drink from him and, as part of the script, Taehyung
bows again and turns to leave when Jungkook catches his wrist and pulls him down into his lap.

“Stay here, baby,” Jungkook murmurs. “Hold my cards for me.”

“Yes sir,” Taehyung says demurely, taking Jungkook’s cards from him and glancing down at them.
Jungkook has an ace, a king, a queen, a jack, and a ten, all hearts, but Taehyung has no idea
whether it’s a good hand or not.

Jungkook grasps Taehyung’s waist, pulling him more firmly against him so that his back is pressed
against Jungkook’s solid chest, his buttcheeks resting right against Jungkook’s crotch. He wiggles
a little bit, trying to get more comfortable while at the same time playing the tease and he feels
Jungkook’s hand tighten on his waist.

“Stay still, kitten,” Jungkook says in a low voice but loud enough for the other men to hear. “You
know I can’t control myself when you get naughty.”

Taehyung lets out a playful giggle even as Jungkook’s words send a shiver down his spine. “Why
do you think I do it, daddy?”
Someone makes a strangled choking noise and Taehyung looks up－right into Jwi Haechung’s
ugly rat face. Jwi is sitting directly across from them, a cigar in his hand, his bloodshot eyes wide
and staring. If Taehyung thought he looked like he had been run over by a truck before, his
expression now matches his face－Jwi looks like he’s just been hit by a bus.

“Ah, so you won the pretty little dove that night,” says the grey-bearded man, now looking at
Jungkook with a mixture of envy and awe. “I was wondering where such a beautiful boy had flown
off to. A fine acquisition, to be sure.” He chuckles, patting the knee of the boy still sitting in his
lap. “Nothing against you of course, my pet,” and the boy nods, staring at the floor.

“What can I say, gentlemen,” Jungkook says smugly, taking a sip of his drink. “One night with me
and,” he looks across the table, smirking at Jwi, “he just couldn’t fathom being fucked by anybody
else.”

There are guffaws of laughter around the table from all the men with the exception of Jwi, whose
lips pull back to expose his yellowed teeth in an ugly sneer. “Seems you paid a lot of money for a
virgin,” Jwi says, practically spitting out the word. “I can’t imagine he would have been worth half
of what you paid for him, Jeon.”

“No?” Jungkook puts his drink down on the table and shifts Taehyung in his lap so that
Taehyung’s arm is looped around his shoulders, causing him to snuggle closer. “Well, I know you
think doves are a waste of money, Jwi, but believe me, he was worth every single penny.” He
nuzzles at Taehyung’s neck, running his hand up Taehyung’s thigh. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Oh…yes,” Taehyung breathes, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. It’s part of the act, to rile
Jwi up, to have Taehyung writhe and moan in Jungkook’s lap to push him to the boiling point
but…part of it isn’t an act. How can it be when Taehyung feels a pulse of arousal at Jungkook’s
touch, his focus zeroing in on where Jungkook’s hand is now drawing small circles along his inner
thigh…

“Fuck, tightest ass I’ve ever had in my life,” Jungkook growls, his other hand tracing a path up
Taehyung’s side, over his rib cage, brushing his thumb over one of his nipples through the thin silk
of his slip and Taehyung lets out a small gasp, nearly dropping the cards. “And you should hear
him moan for me, he’s so fucking sensitive. I barely need to touch him before he’s begging for my
cock. God, I’d hate to be the man who lost to me the night of the auction.” He grips Taehyung’s
thigh, squeezing it, his blunt nails digging into his skin. “But then again, maybe you didn’t bother
bidding, Jwi. Maybe you weren’t able to.”

One of the men says something but Taehyung doesn’t quite hear it because his mind feels all fuzzy
and all he can seem to focus on is the feel of Jungkook’s hands on him, warm and rough, stroking
and teasing. Fuck, he’s hard right now, he can feel his cock straining against the lace of his
underwear and he just hopes Jungkook’s hands don’t go any higher because he’ll be able to feel
Taehyung’s arousal for himself, he’ll know that Taehyung isn’t just acting right now, he’ll know
just how much his touch affects him…

With trembling hands he places the cards face-down on the poker table, unable to hold onto them
any longer, and he holds onto the arm of the chair instead, one arm still wrapped around
Jungkook’s shoulders and he grinds down against Jungkook, playing the part of his lust-crazed
whore but, god, he can’t even tell if it’s a part he’s playing anymore because his need for Jungkook
is driving him insane, he’ll go crazy if Jungkook doesn’t fuck him here, now…

His eyes fly open in surprise when he feels Jungkook’s impressive length pressing against his ass,
rock-hard and pulsing. Taehyung lets out a breathy moan that is completely involuntary and
chances a glance at Jungkook’s face but he doesn’t look affected by the fact he’s sporting a hard-
on right now, there’s still that ever-present smirk on his lips as he stares down Jwi. But, on closer
inspection, Taehyung can detect a faint shallowness to his breathing and he shifts slightly
underneath Taehyung.

“Are you daddy’s little slut, baby?” Jungkook says in a low voice, giving his thigh another rough
squeeze. “You wouldn’t want anyone else fucking you, right? Not when you’re always craving
daddy’s dick?”

Taehyung nods. “Mm hmm…” It’s the only noise he can manage to make right now. He’s way
beyond coherent speech, way beyond coherent thought. He rocks against Jungkook’s erection, at
the same time drawing his robe over his lap while he still has the presence of mind to cover
himself. He doesn’t think Jungkook has noticed his arousal, he’s pretty sure it’s all still an act for
him.

But if it is, why is Jungkook hard right now?

Before Taehyung can puzzle this out, Jwi speaks. “How much you want for him, Jeon?”

Taehyung feels Jungkook tense underneath him. “What?”

“How much do you want for him?” Jwi says again. He waves his cigar at Taehyung, the end of it
trailing smoke. “He’s a whore and all whores have a price so how much do you want for him?” He
grins wickedly, his sharp eyes greedy. “Unless perhaps you’ve gone and gotten yourself too
attached to him? What’s the matter, Jeon? Not willing to share? Does your sweet little whore have
you wrapped around his finger or somethin’?”

“Hell, I’d buy him,” another man says. “Man, I was pissed when Hobi told me he left the Cage
after his auction night. I was dying to try him out.” He turns to Jungkook, an eager look on his
face. “How do you feel about letting me have him for one evening, Jeon? I’ll pay you what Hobi
usually charges plus a little premium.”

“Gentlemen,” the older bearded man says, looking a bit uncomfortable, “this is not the time or
place to be bargaining－”

“Oh, but I think it’s the perfect time to strike a deal, Kang-Dae nim,” Jwi says, displaying his rat’s
smile. “When else are we going to get the opportunity? Seems to me you have a habit of keeping
him hidden away, Jeon. Maybe you’re still too young to understand how it all works, I’m sure your
father couldn’t have taught you everything. Maybe he forgot to tell you that, when you’re playing
with the big boys, you make nice and share your toys. To keep the peace, you know?” His grin
widens, making him seem even more grotesque. “So. Why don’t you make dear old departed dad
proud of you and name your fucking price, hmm?”

Taehyung can practically feel the rage emanating from Jungkook, sweeping over him like a
gathering storm. He thinks Jungkook might be mere seconds away from throwing Taehyung off his
lap and diving across the table to tear into Jwi. And if he does that, their whole entire plan will be
ruined.

Not here, not here, we’re not supposed to take him out here…

Desperate to rein Jungkook in, Taehyung grasps his face in his hands and turns Jungkook to look at
him. “Don’t let them have me, daddy,” he says, his tone pleading. “No one fucks me like you do.”
He allows his lips to graze Jungkook’s temple, looking over the top of his head right at Jwi. “No
one’s as big…”
The smile vanishes from Jwi’s face, swiftly replaced by a look of seething outrage.

Jungkook nuzzles him, his hand tightening on Taehyung’s waist before turning to face Jwi again, a
satisfied smirk on his lips. “Well, I’d be happy to lend him to you, Jwi, but seeing as he’d rather
stay with me…” He gives a careless shrug of his shoulders. “Guess my hands are tied.”

The man called Kang-Dae chuckles. “You’ve got him very well-trained, Jeon. I, for one, think it’s
admirable when a whore shows a certain loyalty. After all,” he says, giving the boy on his lap an
affectionate squeeze, “we do give them so much.”

Taehyung bristles at the old man’s words and it’s Jungkook’s turn to sooth him, running his hand
along Taehyung’s thigh in a gentle caress and he can practically hear what Jungkook is thinking: I
know, I know, just remember the part you’re supposed to be playing right now…

He takes a calming breath, trying to reorient himself. And it does help, the way Jungkook is
touching him and he finds himself leaning into him even more, his neglected cock still aching with
need. But that’s not his priority right now, he should be focused on getting Jwi to storm out, at least
that fucker had dropped the whole idea of buying him from Jungkook－

“How about we play for him?” Jwi says.

Jungkook’s jaw clenches. “What do you mean, ‘play for him?’”

“I mean I’ll show you mine and you show me yours,” Jwi says, nodding at the cards in front of
Jungkook. “Whoever has the highest hand, wins the whore.”

“Gentlemen, really,” Kang-Dae huffs. “This has gone far enough－”

“Stay out of it, old man,” Jwi grits out. “I’m taking on the responsibility of teaching the kid here a
lesson in sharing.” He smiles at Jungkook, his eyes cold. “What’s the matter, Jeon?” he taunts.
“Scared you’ll lose?”

Taehyung feels Jungkook’s hands tighten on him again, as if by holding onto him as tightly as he
can, he’ll be able to stop Jwi from taking him. But Taehyung already knows, without having to ask,
that this is a challenge that neither of them can wriggle their way out of. Because if Jungkook says
no to Jwi’s challenge, he’ll be branded a coward, be seen as weak and spineless by the other
leaders. Taehyung might not know a lot about being in the mob but he does know that displaying
any sort of weakness is the equivalent of painting a target on your back.

Fuck.

Jungkook tilts his head in the barest of nods and Taehyung can feel the thump of Jungkook’s
heartbeat against his spine. “You’re on,” he says quietly. “Show me what you got.”

Jwi throws his cards down－three sevens and two sixes. “Full house,” he says triumphantly. “I
don’t think there’s any way you can beat that so－”

But Jungkook is slowly picking up his cards and turning them over face up, fanning them out so
the whole table can see. “Royal flush,” he says, his eyes fixed on Jwi. “Pretty sure that means I
win, Jwi.”

“Oho!” Kang-Dae says, chortling. “Look at that! I must say, Jeon, you’re a better player than even
your father!”

Jwi is staring at Jungkook’s cards, disbelief and horror written all over his ugly face. “Y-you－” he
splutters. “You－”

“You’re not going to accuse me of cheating, are you?” Jungkook says mildly. “That’s a very
serious charge at our traditional poker game, isn’t it? So I’d think twice before doing something
like that. Maybe you just need to accept the fact that you lost to me.”

Jwi stands up, pointing a finger at Jungkook. “This isn’t over, you little prick!” Then he storms out
of the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Hmm,” Kang-Dae says, staring after him. “Strange behaviour, even for Jwi…perhaps we should
hold a council meeting about him…”

“Ah, let it go, Nam,” one of the other men says. “He’s always been like that, he just does too many
drugs.”

Taehyung heaves a sigh of relief. Now all Jungkook needed to do was text Jin, give him the signal
to be on the lookout for Jwi－

“Good job, baby,” Jungkook whispers in his ear. “You did so well.” He lifts his hand, presumably
to reach for his phone－but then the tips of his fingers graze Taehyung’s still-throbbing erection
and Taehyung gasps.

Jungkook’s hand stills over Taehyung’s cock and then he grasps it in his hand, giving it a rough
squeeze as if confirming Taehyung’s arousal for himself. Taehyung jerks in his lap, letting out a
startled groan and trying to push Jungkook’s hand away from his crotch. But the damage has
already been done.

“Gentlemen,” Jungkook says, his voice eerily calm. “I think it’s time to wrap things up here.
Would you kindly give me and my whore some privacy?”

“Aw come on, Jeon,” one of the men says, laughing, “we’ve barely gotten started－”

“Baek, if you and the others don’t leave now, I will put your cigar out on your tongue. Get out.
Now.”

The threat in Jungkook’s voice is so palpable that the other men don’t hesitate to vacate their
chairs, scrambling away from the table and towards the door, towing their whores behind them and
slamming the door shut.

Before Taehyung can say anything, Jungkook is lifting him up onto the poker table, shoving him
back onto the soft felt surface. Poker chips and playing cards go flying as Taehyung is knocked flat
onto his back, his limbs splayed out, Jungkook looming over him.

Jungkook’s eyes are dark as he rucks up the hem of Taehyung’s slip, rubbing his palm over
Taehyung’s hard cock. “Is this because of me?”

Taehyung whines, his hips jerking up into Jungkook’s touch, desperate for friction. But Jungkook
grasps one of his hips with his other hand, holding Taehyung in place, forcing him to hold still.
“I’m going to ask you again, Taehyung,” he says, his voice soft and laced with danger, “are you
aroused right now because I was touching you?”

Taehyung wavers, torn in two by not wanting to admit what Jungkook does to him and wanting to
be rid of this ache, this need, this craving that only Jungkook can fulfill. But, staring up at
Jungkook, his traitorous body on full display for the mob boss to see, he knows that he’s only
fighting a losing battle. Figures that he’s been losing himself to Jungkook for quite some time now.
So instead of denying it, he licks his lips－and he nods.

“Say it.”

Taehyung whimpers, shaking his head, while at the same time trying to move against Jungkook’s
hand, needing something to ease the ache, god, something, anything－

But Jungkook only presses him more firmly against the table, removing his hand to palm at his
own crotch. “Say it, Taehyung,” he says, gazing down at him. “Say it or I won’t give you a fucking
thing. I’ll jerk myself off and cum all over your hot little body and I won’t allow you to touch
yourself like I did last night. I won’t allow you to do anything to relieve yourself.”

The thought of not getting release, when it’s the one thing he’s in dire need of the most right now is
like being threatened with torture. He whines again, moving his hand down to try and touch
himself but Jungkook catches his wrist, pinning it to the table. “Taehyung, say it.”

“It’s because of y-you,” Taehyung finally gasps out. “It’s because of you, Jungkook, okay? I’m
hard because you touched me, now please do something, please－”

“I just thought you were a good actor,” Jungkook says, his eyes fixed on Taehyung’s face, still not
touching him. “Writhing around in my lap, moaning like a slut, I thought it was all just part of the
act. But it’s not an act, is it, Taehyung? You’ve been my little cockslut since day one, haven’t
you?”

Taehyung nods frantically, his entire body tingling at Jungkook’s words. “Yes, yes, I’m your little
slut, Jungkook,” he babbles helplessly, “now please, please I need－”

“What do you need, baby?” Jungkook says. “What do you want?”

“Your c-cock,” Taehyung stammers. “Please I want it so bad, need it inside me－”

“Yeah?” Jungkook traces his hand along Taehyung’s thigh, snapping one of his garter straps. “I
haven’t fucked you all week, so you’re craving my cock in your little hole, is that it? You want me
to fill you up, baby, fuck you good?”

Taehyung is near tears at this point, feeling as if his entire body might scorch itself to ash if
Jungkook doesn’t touch him soon. “Jungkook, please－”

But then Jungkook is stuffing two of his fingers into Taehyung’s mouth, cutting him off. “Suck on
those for me, baby,” he growls. “Get them nice and wet so I can fuck you open for my cock.”

Taehyung moans around Jungkook’s fingers, laving them with his tongue, his eyes rolling back as
Jungkook skims his other hand over his weeping cock, rubbing it through the lace of his panties.
“So fucking sexy like this,” Jungkook says, “I was ready to fuck you in the car on the way here,
wanted to fuck you on that barstool downstairs right in front of everyone…”

Taehyung makes a muffled noise around Jungkook’s fingers, his words conjuring up such filthy
images in his mind that only turn him on even more. God, if that’s what Jungkook had wanted,
Taehyung would have let him, would have let Jungkook have him in the car even though Jin would
have been able to hear them, or would have allowed Jungkook to bend him over the stool in the bar
downstairs, would have let him fuck Taehyung in front of all of those people…

His body is completely gone for Jungkook at this point. Taehyung would have let Jungkook fuck
him while swinging from that huge chandelier in the entryway if that’s what Jungkook fancied.
Jungkook removes his fingers from Taehyung’s mouth, a string of drool escaping his mouth and
landing on his chin. Taehyung impatiently wipes it away as Jungkook roughly shoves his panties to
the side and slides in one finger, Taehyung’s breath hitching as he feels Jungkook’s finger curl
inside him, brushing right up against his swollen prostate.

“Right there, baby?” Jungkook breathes, his eyes fixed on Taehyung’s face. “You want it right
there?”

“Y-yes,” Taehyung breathes, his vision blurred with tears. “Please, m-more…”

“Needy boy,” Jungkook rasps, inserting a second finger and Taehyung lets out another broken
moan. “Can’t believe you’ve been denying what a needy slut you are for so long but I always knew
you were…always knew how badly you wanted my cock every night…”

Taehyung bucks against Jungkook’s fingers, his hips undulating as he feels his orgasm start to
build but he doesn’t want to come by being fingered, he wants to come by being fucked, he just
wants and wants and wants, the ache inside him intensifying, expanding until it takes over his
entire body.

“F-fuck me,” he pleads, his voice shaking. “Please, Jungkook, I w-want you to fuck me.”

Jungkook stares down at him, his black gaze heated, burning with lust and Taehyung knows that
he’s in for something rough, something dark but it’s what he wants. It’s exactly what he wants.

Without warning, Jungkook removes his fingers and Taehyung sobs at the loss, so far gone that he
reaches down, trying to put his own fingers in, to fill up the emptiness but Jungkook knocks his
hand away, unzipping his fly and spitting on his palm, stroking his length.

“You ready for this dick, baby?”

Taehyung nods jerkily, a heady thrill of anticipation swooping through his stomach. “Yes, I’m
ready, I’m ready, Jungkook, please－” His words end on a guttural moan as Jungkook lines
himself up and begins pushing his way inside. And it burns, it burns like every other time
Jungkook has used spit instead of lube but Taehyung loves it, revels in it, spreading his legs even
wider to accommodate the stretch, Jungkook’s size. Jungkook sheathes himself to the hilt with a
grunt, holding onto Taehyung’s hips in an almost painfully tight grip and Taehyung almost passes
out right there, just from feeling the fullness of Jungkook’s cock inside him.

Jungkook grasps one of Taehyung’s thighs, throwing Taehyung’s leg over his shoulder, turning his
head and kissing Taehyung’s ankle through the sheer stocking. Taehyung feels Jungkook’s cock
pulse inside him but Jungkook still hasn’t moved yet. He whines, trying to grind against him but
Jungkook stops him with a mere look.

“Fuck me,” Taehyung whispers.

“Hmm? Speak up, kitten, I can’t hear you.”

Taehyung clears his throat, feeling as if he’s about to spontaneously combust. “Fuck me,” he says,
louder this time. “Please.”

Jungkook smirks at him. “You asked for it.”

He withdraws his cock almost all the way out only to immediately slam back in and Taehyung lets
out a strangled cry as he arches back, body bowed on the table as Jungkook sets a furious pace,
fucking into him without a trace of mercy or inhibition.
“Oh my god,” Taehyung sobs over and over as Jungkook pounds into him, “oh my god, oh my god,
ohmygod－”

“Fuck, so tight, baby,” Jungkook snarls, “you like being fucked like this? You like it when I wreck
your little tight little ass?”

“Yes,” Taehyung keens, his arms flailing around for something to grab a hold of. He finally
manages to latch onto Jungkook’s forearms, hanging on for dear life as his entire body is jolted
back and forth across the poker table. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes－”

He struggles for air, every breath he manages to inhale immediately punched out of him by
Jungkook’s rough thrusts, hitting his sweet spot every time until he’s completely overwhelmed, the
burn and the ecstasy and the friction pushing him to the edge, to the limit and he comes violently,
squeezing his eyes shut as his entire body is wracked with shudders.

Jungkook slows down, stops and Taehyung opens his eyes, blinking up at him. He’s still inside of
Taehyung, still hard, and Taehyung flinches slightly as he feels Jungkook’s cock throb against his
sensitive walls.

Jungkook looks down at Taehyung, giving him a feral grin. “What, did you think we were
finished?”

And then he’s reaching down, grasping Taehyung around the waist, lifting him up and before
Taehyung can process what’s happening, he finds himself being slammed against the wall,
Jungkook holding him up in his arms.

Taehyung flails again, desperate for something to hold onto because he feels as if he’s going to fall
and he has no choice but to wrap his arms around Jungkook’s shoulders, holding on tight.

Jungkook jostles him slightly, adjusting his grip. “It’s okay,” he whispers, “I’ve got you.”

Taehyung gulps in a breath, looking into Jungkook’s face－and in that moment, something shifts
between them.

Jungkook stares up at him, still inside him but unmoving, his eyes no longer wild and intense but
half-lidded, looking at Taehyung intently, as if he’s seeing him for the first time. “I’ve got you,” he
says again and Taehyung nods mutely, curling his fingers into the fabric of Jungkook’s suit jacket,
bringing him even closer.

Jungkook starts to move, not fast like before but a slow erotic glide in and out, Taehyung
whimpering at the oversensitivity but not wanting Jungkook to stop. He feels like he doesn’t ever
want this to stop.

They move slowly up and down like a ship bobbing over the waves of the sea, not once looking
away from each other and Taehyung feels his breath catch in his throat as he gazes into Jungkook’s
eyes, completely captivated. And he feels himself falling, just as he feared he would, falling into
Jungkook’s solid warmth and his dark eyes, obsidian black and sinfully beautiful.

Jungkook’s gaze darts down to Taehyung’s lips before looking back into his eyes. “Feel good,
baby?”

“Yes,” Taehyung breathes. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah? You wanna come again?”

“Y-yes please.”

Jungkook huffs a laugh, his soft smile piercing right into Taehyung’s heart. “So polite.” He shifts
closer, burying his face in the crook of Taehyung’s neck as he begins to fuck up into him, his pace
quickening and Taehyung clutches at him, moaning at every thrust, the oversensitivity sending him
spiraling upwards until every nerve in his body is singing with heightened pleasure.

He comes apart in Jungkook’s arms, shaking against him as his second orgasm shatters through
him, gripping Jungkook’s waist with his thighs as he cries out. And as he feels Jungkook release
inside him, filling him with his warm cum, he hears Jungkook’s whispered groan in his ear.

“Tae…”

Jungkook stills, panting against his neck, still holding him up against the wall for a few seconds.
Taehyung hisses as Jungkook carefully pulls out of him, setting him back down on the ground－
but Taehyung’s knees buckle as soon as his feet hit the floor and he falls forward against
Jungkook’s chest and then feels Jungkook sweeping him up into his arms before collapsing back
onto one of the chairs, cradling Taehyung in his lap.

They gaze at each other, chests heaving and Taehyung feels that familiar ache bloom in his chest as
he stares down at Jungkook, one of his hands still fisted in Jungkook’s jacket.

“You’re trembling,” Jungkook murmurs, one of his arms wrapped firmly around Taehyung’s waist,
holding him close.

“So are you,” Taehyung says softly. He reaches up and brushes a lock of hair away from
Jungkook’s forehead, his fingertips caressing Jungkook’s cheek and Jungkook groans softly,
leaning into his touch. He turns his head, pressing his lips to Taehyung’s palm, his wrist and then
leans forward, mouthing at Taehyung’s neck, his chest.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook whispers against his skin, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe of
warmth against his collarbone. “God, Tae, you’re so fucking amazing…”

Taehyung stifles a sob, wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s neck, keeping him close, resting his
cheek on the top of Jungkook’s head as the aftershocks of their orgasms keep shivering through
them. He hadn’t known sex could be like that, could feel like so much more than just sex. He
doesn’t even know what had happened between them, only knows that it had felt incredibly
profound, terrifying and wonderful all at the same time. A sort of echo had reverberated through
his heart when Jungkook had been inside him, gazing right into his eyes, a kind of dizzying
recognition. It’s unnerving. Feeling this way about Jungkook, Taehyung feels as if he’s both lost
and gained something at the same time.

Jungkook places another soft kiss on his neck and then pulls back to look at him, his eyes heavy
lidded, suggestive. “You wanna go again, baby?” he breathes, running a hand along Taehyung’s
thigh.

Taehyung’s hand slips down to Jungkook’s chest, feeling the thunder of his heartbeat against his
palm. Another round just might end up killing the pair of them but Taehyung is so far beyond
caring at this point. Desire is coursing through him again, desire for Jungkook and now that he’s
finally admitted it, that he wants and needs and aches for him, Taehyung figures that there’s no
going back now and he may as well enjoy it while it lasts.

He drops his gaze, boldly undoing one of the buttons on Jungkook’s shirt, nodding shyly. “Sounds
like a－” But then he stops.
He had been about to say ‘Sounds like a plan’ when the realization hits him. The plan. His head
jerks up, looking around the empty room, his heart in his throat. “Oh my god,” he says in a
horrified whisper. “We forgot about the plan.”

“Hmm?” Jungkook says, currently occupied with undoing the clasps on Taehyung’s garter straps.
“What plan, what are you－”

But then he freezes and they both exchange panicked looks before Jungkook is lifting him off his
lap, setting Taehyung down hastily on the edge of the table while he gropes for his phone in the
pocket of his jacket, pulling it out and hurriedly stabbing his fingers at the screen. He holds it to his
ear, gnawing at his lip. “Come on, come on,” he mutters. And then, “Yoongi? What’s going on, did
you get a hold of Jwi? Tell me you got him.”

Yoongi says something on the other end－or, more accurately, it sounds like he shouts something
judging by the volume of his voice and then Jungkook hangs up with a snarl of frustration.

“Shit.” He turns to Taehyung, his face pale. “Jwi’s gone.”

Taehyung follows Jungkook down the marble staircase, his legs so rubbery, he feels as if he might
just collapse at any moment. He had tried to clean himself up as best he could with some cocktail
napkins but his slip is still stained with cum and it clings to his sweat slicked body, his robe damp
and soiled as well.

Jin meets them in the entryway, eyes widening at Taehyung’s disheveled appearance before turning
to Jungkook.

“What the fuck happened, Jin?” Jungkook snaps. “You didn’t see Jwi come down this way?”

“No,” Jin stammers. “I mean, I was keeping a lookout but I was waiting for your signal, boss, it’s
possible I missed him－”

“Fuck.” Jungkook strides to the doors leading to the outside and smacks them open, Taehyung and
Jin hurrying to keep up.

“You okay, Taehyung ssi?” Jin asks quietly as they follow Jungkook outside and down the steps
towards the parking lot.

“Yeah, Jin, I’m fine,” Taehyung gasps. But he’s so completely exhausted, it’s all he can do not to
fall down the stairs. Jin must sense this because he grabs a hold of Taehyung’s elbow and helps
him navigate the stairs, guiding him to the gravel parking lot where Yoongi and the other members
of the Yong Jegug are waiting.

As soon as Yoongi spots Jungkook striding towards him, his face twists into an expression of pure
anger and he marches up to him, his eyes blazing. “What the fuck, boss?”

“Don’t ask me what the fuck,” Jungkook yells, jabbing a finger at Yoongi’s chest. “Why the fuck
didn’t you take down, Jwi? He must have come out here, you must have fucking seen him－”
“We were waiting on you,” Yoongi fires back. “We were waiting on your signal, boss, that was the
plan, you told us not to make a move until we heard from you. We were hiding around the back
like you told us to and next thing I know, the soldier we stationed in the parking lot is calling us,
telling us there’s a car fucking speeding out of the parking lot.”

“Well, was it Jwi or not?”

“We don’t fucking know! We weren’t in fucking position yet!”

“Jin!” Jungkook snaps, looking over at him. “Did you look through the house at all, did you see
him anywhere－”

“No,” Jin says apologetically, stepping forward to consult with the group. “I was waiting in the
lounge area like you told me to but I didn’t know that Jwi had left the poker game, I didn’t know it
was time to pass the signal onto Yoongi－”

Yoongi throws his head back, laughing wildly at the sky. “Well, that’s just fucking perfect!” he
yells. “Our one opportunity to nab the son of a bitch and we missed it!” He stares at Jungkook, his
teeth bared. “So what’s the plan now, boss man, huh? You have another scheme floating around
that you can go ahead and fuck up for us?”

“Don’t you fucking talk to me like that, Yoongi, or I’ll cut your balls off and feed them to you!
What, are you all so fucking stupid, you can’t keep fucking track of one fucking guy! You need me
to do everything for you－”

Yoongi and Jungkook are screaming right into each other’s faces and Taehyung vaguely wonders
if they’ll get into a fistfight right there in the parking lot. But his exhaustion is intensifying,
weighing heavily on his shoulders and he wanders a little bit away from the group, wanting to get
away from all the shouting.

He sighs, tilting his head back, looking at the full moon floating across the sky. Maybe that’s why
everyone’s so on edge tonight.

Jungkook and Yoongi are still yelling at each other and it sounds like more outraged voices are
joining in, people taking sides and Taehyung wants to snap at them all to just shut up already
because he just wants to go home now and go to sleep, he’s just so tired. He’s seriously
considering just laying down on the gravel and taking a nap there.

Fuck. There’s a pebble in one of his shoes now and he bends over, trying to dig it out from
underneath his foot without taking his shoe off. And he’s so tired, so fucking out of it at this point,
that he doesn’t hear the crunch of footsteps behind him until it’s too late.

Cold hands seize him, pulling him backwards against someone’s body and a greasy voice hisses in
his ear. “Don’t scream, you little slut, or I’ll slit your fucking throat.” There’s a flash of pointed
silver hovering at his throat and Taehyung freezes, his entire body going on lockdown, his focus
zeroing in on the knife Jwi is holding to his neck.

Jin is the first one to notice and he shouts at the others, the other members of the Yong Jegug
turning and Jungkook’s eyes widen when he sees Taehyung, and he immediately steps towards him
－

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jwi says, holding the knife even closer to Taehyung’s neck, the point of it just
touching his skin. “Don’t move, any of you. If you do, I’ll spill your little whore’s blood all over
your shoes.” His other hand is fisted in Taehyung’s hair, holding his head back, his grip so tight
that Taehyung’s eyes begin to water.

Jungkook stops, his eyes wide and staring. He raises a placating hand towards Jwi, as if he’s trying
to calm a rabid animal. “Let him go, Jwi.”

“Nope, no, I don’t think I will, Jeon.” Jwi’s voice is dripping with savage glee. “Not when he feels
so fucking good pressed against me. I can see why you wanted to keep him all to yourself.”

“Jwi, what do you want? You want money?” Jungkook’s voice is calm and even though he’s
addressing Jwi, his eyes are fixed on where the knife is pointing at Taehyung’s neck.

“This isn’t about money, you fucking prick!” Jwi shouts, sounding slightly hysterical now. “This is
about you not knowing how the fucking world works! It doesn’t matter that you’re the leader of
the Yong Jegug, you still don’t get to do whatever the fuck you want with no fucking
consequences!”

“Jwi－”

“I was supposed to fucking win him!” Jwi screams. “I was supposed to win him at the auction that
night, finally get a little status for myself but no, Jeon, you just had to sweep in and keep him all to
yourself. We thought you might take after your father but you’re just a fucking kid who doesn’t
know shit about anything!” As Jwi rants, he presses the tip of the knife deeper into Taehyung’s
skin and Taehyung feels a sharp prick of pain and the warm trickle of blood down his neck.

“Jwi, stop!”

There’s command in Jungkook’s tone, authority, but something else as well, something else
underlying it.

Something like panic.

“You don’t get to call the shots right now, Jeon,” Jwi snarls. “It’s my turn. So here’s what’s going
to happen.” He takes a step backwards, dragging Taehyung with him. “I’m going to take your
whore back to my boys and we’re going to have ourselves a good old-fashioned gang bang.” He
brays a laugh, the sound of it scraping against Taehyung’s eardrums. “Pass him around, take turns,
you know? Make him bleed a little bit, maybe, or hold a knife to his throat while he sucks my cock.
He’s got such a pretty mouth on him. Don’t you, sweetheart?”

Jwi’s words conjure up the most unspeakable images in Taehyung’s mind and he can feel bile
rising in his throat, he wants to puke, he wants Jwi’s hands off of him, he wants to leave his body
and just fly away…

Jwi laughs again. “Don’t worry, Jeon, I’ll send you pictures. Hell, I’ll send you a
fucking video. And he’ll be crying, he’ll be screaming for you to come save him but I think, even if
you do manage to find us, it’ll be too late…”

“Jwi,” Jungkook says quietly and this time Taehyung can hear the naked plea in his voice. “Just let
him go.”

“Too late for bargaining, Jeon,” Jwi spits out. “You should have just fucking sold him to me when
I asked.” He takes another step back and Taehyung is forced to step back with him, his ballet flats
slipping on the gravel.

“So how about it, you little whore?” Jwi rasps in his ear. “You ever been fucked with a knife?”
And that’s when Taehyung decides to die.

Because he is not going to allow himself to be dragged back to god-knows-where and let Jwi and
his men rape and torture him. He would much rather die here in this gravel parking lot than put
himself through something like that.

He steels himself, his mind racing, thoughts of his mother clamoring in his mind along with other
flashes of memory－chasing a dragonfly through the park, the paintings of the warrior women he
had seen in the art gallery a few weeks ago, Jimin’s bubbly laugh－and the night he had first seen
Jungkook through the bars of his cage.

Oh my god, he thinks wildly. I’ve never even been kissed!

He looks up at the silver-bright moon and the sight of it calms him for some reason, stills the chaos
in his mind. Maybe he’ll die without knowing what it’s like to be kissed by someone but maybe
what he had experienced with Jungkook earlier in the mansion…

Maybe that had been just a little bit beautiful.

Taehyung closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, inhaling what he thinks might be one of his final
breaths. Carefully, very carefully, he moves his hand behind him so that it’s hovering right over
Jwi’s crotch. Because, while he may have decided to die, that doesn’t mean that he’s going down
without a fucking fight.

He exhales, opening his eyes, looking right at Jungkook, letting him see the resolve on his face.

Goodbye, Jungkook.

He sees Jungkook’s eyes widen, hears him shout something, his lips might have even formed the
shape of Taehyung’s name but Taehyung doesn’t know for sure because he’s ramming his hand
upwards, right into Jwi’s balls and throwing his head back at the same time, slamming it back
against Jwi’s face and Jwi releases him with a yelp of pain, the edge of the knife tracing a line of
fire-bright pain against his collarbone but he’s free, he’s falling to the ground but he’s free.

Taehyung scrambles back against the side of a car, looking wildly around for Jwi and he’s there a
few feet in front of him, lying on the ground and moaning, clutching at his balls. And then
Jungkook is storming over, like something out of a nightmare, raising his foot up and then
stomping directly on Jwi’s face.

There’s a sickening crack and blood gushes out of Jwi’s nose but Jungkook raises his foot again,
bringing it down on Jwi’s face once more, on his chest, kicking him in the stomach, the crotch,
anywhere his foot lands. Jungkook’s lips are pulled back from his teeth in a silent snarl, his
handsome face a mask of demonic fury as he rains blow after blow down on Jwi. He does not say
one word as he’s beating Jwi, just animal-like grunts escaping him every time he lands another
kick.

Taehyung presses back against the car, turning his face away, putting his hands over his eyes, just
wanting it to be over, just please let this be over－

“Boss, not here!” he hears Yoongi shout. “We can’t do this here, we have to take him somewhere
else－”

“Jin, take him home!” Jungkook growls, his voice completely unrecognizable.

And then Jin is there, tugging him to his feet, half-dragging, half-carrying him to the car.
The world tilts, upending him and Taehyung falls against Jin, plunging down into blissful
unawareness.

Yoongi drags a stumbling, bleeding Jwi into the warehouse, his hands already cuffed behind him, a
black hood over his face. Jwi is groaning with every wobbling step and Yoongi can hear him
breathing wetly through his mouth under the hood.

Make them count, asshole, Yoongi thinks. You’re not going to be able to do that for much longer.

He throws Jwi down onto the hard concrete floor, going over to the worktable and picking up a
bundle of hemp rope. Unwinding it, he heads back over to Jwi and kneels beside him, threading the
rope through the handcuffs and tying a knot around his wrists before moving down to wrap it
securely around his ankles, tying it in such a way that Jwi is completely immobile.

Jungkook comes to stand beside him as Yoongi straightens up, dusting off his hands. He knows
he’s in for it later, for going off on Jungkook outside the mansion but he’s hoping Jwi will bear the
brunt of Jungkook’s rage.

He’s not so sure, though. Jungkook had been eerily silent on the drive here.

“How do you want to do this, boss?” Yoongi ventures, making sure to keep his tone respectful.
“Do you want me to start in on him or－”

“No,” Jungkook says, still staring down at Jwi. “You don’t touch him. Nobody touches him until I
get back. I come back and I find him dead, it’ll be you in his place and I’ll use you as a stand-in.”

Then he abruptly turns around and heads for the warehouse door.

“Wait,” Yoongi calls after him. “Where are you going?”

“Going to check on Tae!”

Jungkook strides down the hall to his penthouse, his heart pounding in chest. Jin is stationed at the
door, left slightly ajar, and he’s peering inside but he looks up as Jungkook approaches.
“How is he?” Jungkook says curtly but he feels he already knows the answer to that by the stricken
look on Jin’s face.

“Pretty bad, boss,” Jin whispers. “He passed out on the way over but as soon we got back, he woke
up and just started screaming. I tried to tell him that it was okay, that he was safe but he just
screamed at me to get out.” He blows out a shaky breath. “It’s like he didn’t even recognize me.
He’s stopped screaming now, at least.”

“Where is he now?”

“Just sitting on the sofa.”

Jungkook nods. “Okay, stay out here.” He goes past Jin into the penthouse and closes the door
behind him, noticing that there’s not a single light on.

Taehyung is seated on the sofa, his knees drawn up to his chest, staring off into space. He doesn’t
look around as Jungkook moves closer to him, doesn’t even seem to know he’s there.

Jungkook cautiously sits next to him on the sofa. “Tae?” he says quietly.

No response. Taehyung has his arms wrapped around his knees and it’s then that Jungkook notices
that Taehyung is shaking from head to toe. Shaking so violently that Jungkook almost expects
Taehyung to shatter into pieces right before his eyes.

He moves a bit closer, carefully reaching up to pull Taehyung’s robe away from his shoulder so he
can inspect his wounds. There’s the nick on his throat and the longer cut on his collarbone but
they’ve both stopped bleeding at least, the blood having clotted already. He won’t need stitches,
the cuts thankfully being quite shallow but seeing them still punches his heart into his throat.

“Come on, baby,” Jungkook whispers, standing up and taking Taehyung’s hands in his own. “Let’s
go get you cleaned up.”

He steps back, trying to pull Taehyung up from the couch but Taehyung’s hands slip out of his
grasp, his arms falling limply down by his sides. He doesn’t look up at Jungkook, just continues
staring off into space, shaking and shaking and shaking.

Jungkook drags his hands through his hair, helplessness threatening to overwhelm him. This is his
fault. He did this, this is his doing.

He inhales shakily, trying to compose himself. Taehyung needs him right now and if he falls apart,
he’ll be completely fucking useless and he’ll just have failed Taehyung all over again.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, crouching down near Taehyung. “Tae, I’m going to pick you up and carry
you to the bathroom, all right? Will you let me do that?”

Taehyung doesn’t acknowledge him, just stares straight ahead so Jungkook moves closer, getting
one of his arms underneath Taehyung’s legs and the other one around his waist, hoisting him up
into a bridal carry. Taehyung doesn’t make a sound, his head lolling against Jungkook’s chest.

He’s a complete dead weight in Jungkook’s arms.

“It’s okay,” Jungkook whispers, carrying him towards his bedroom, “it’s okay, you’re okay,
everything’s going to be fine, I promise…”

His stomach twists as he thinks about the promise he had made to Taehyung earlier that evening.
‘I’m not going to let anything happen to you.’ God, what right did he have to promise Taehyung
anything? How would Taehyung trust him to keep his word after what had happened tonight?

He hurries into the bathroom, managing to turn the light on with his elbow, before setting
Taehyung gently on the edge of the counter and bending down to rummage under the sink for the
bottle of disinfectant. He finds it, along with a clean washcloth and he straightens up, twisting the
cap off the bottle and soaking the cloth.

“Shh, you’re okay,” Jungkook soothes, even though Taehyung isn’t saying anything, hasn’t made a
sound. “Shh, it’s okay, shh…”

He removes the velvet choker and gingerly wipes the cloth against Taehyung’s cuts, continuing to
make little shushing noises as he cleans the wounds, wipes the blood away. Taehyung doesn’t even
flinch as the disinfectant soaks into his cuts, doesn’t make any noise of protest or discomfort. He
just sits there slumped on the bathroom counter, shaking.

Jungkook puts the cloth down, taking Taehyung’s face in his hands, looking at him closely. “Tae?”

Taehyung is staring right at him but he doesn’t seem to see him, looking right through Jungkook as
if he’s not even there. His eyes are blank, glassy, an unsettling dead look in them, like a doll’s eyes.
That fire that had burned so fiercely within them has completely gone out.

And Jungkook wants it back.

“Baby?” Jungkook strokes his thumbs across Taehyung’s cheekbones in a gentle caress. “Can you
hear me?”

Taehyung still doesn’t respond so Jungkook gets his hands on Taehyung’s shoulders, giving him a
little shake. “Tae, come on!”

Taehyung just stares at him blankly, no trace of recognition on his face. It’s as if Taehyung is an
empty shell, hollowed out and lifeless.

Desperate, Jungkook grabs Taehyung and pulls him against his chest, rocking him in his arms,
muttering more useless, soothing words against his hair, rubbing his back. Come on, baby, come
on…

It’s then Jungkook becomes aware that Taehyung’s teeth are chattering and he pulls back the
sleeve of his robe to see goosebumps raised all over Taehyung’s arms.

“You cold?” Jungkook murmurs, not expecting a response at this point. “I’ll run you a bath,
okay?”

He makes himself step away from Taehyung, ripping his suit jacket off and throwing it on the
floor, rolling his sleeves up before going over to his jacuzzi tub and turning the tap on, holding his
hand underneath the flow of water to make sure it’s not too hot. Once he’s set the plug in and the
tub starts to fill up, he goes back over to Taehyung and lifts him up off the counter, setting him on
his feet. “I need to take your clothes off, baby. Is that okay?”

Taehyung doesn’t say yes but he doesn’t object either and Jungkook will have to undress him at
some point anyways so he sets about removing his clothes as carefully as he can, slipping the robe
off his shoulders and then his stained slip, letting both garments pool on the tiled floor.

He’s going to burn them. He’s going to burn each and every single piece of the ridiculous outfit
that he had made Taehyung wear this evening. God, if he had let him wear something else, would
things have gone differently? If he had let him wear a suit instead of making him parade around in
lingerie, would that have made any fucking difference?

He kneels down in front of Taehyung, undoing the garter belt and letting it fall to the floor, tugging
off the lace panties and then rolling the stockings down and lifting Taehyung’s feet up, one at a
time, pulling the stockings all the way off. Taehyung is completely naked now, standing there with
his arms dangling at his sides, totally unresponsive, as if he’s a department store mannikin.

Jungkook feels his throat tighten and he presses his face into Taehyung’s soft stomach, wrapping
his arms around his waist, trying to hold back the wave of despair that threatens to pull him under.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he breathes, his voice muffled against Taehyung’s skin. “I’m so sorry.”

An image of Jwi holding the knife to Taehyung’s throat flashes through his mind and he grips
Taehyung even tighter, wanting to reassure himself that Taehyung is still here with him, that he
didn’t die in that gravel parking lot right in front of him.

When he had seen Jwi pointing that knife at Taehyung’s neck, he felt as if his entire world was
crumbling away underneath him. There had been a screaming in his head, an unending shriek of
pain and terror and paralyzing fear, so loud in his mind that he hadn’t been able to think clearly. All
he could see was that knife aimed at Taehyung’s throat and, in that moment, he would have given
Jwi anything he wanted if he would have only let Taehyung go. He would have handed over his
entire empire, would have gotten down on his knees and prostrated himself before Jwi, bowed his
head until the gravel was cutting into his face if he’d only please god, let him go…

But the sick fuck had only wanted to take Taehyung away somewhere to hurt him, to mutilate him
and Jungkook had never felt so powerless, so helpless. Being the leader of the Yong Jegug was
fucking meaningless if he couldn’t protect Taehyung, if he couldn’t keep him out of harm’s way.

And when Taehyung had looked at him, so calm and so brave, that burning determination in his
eyes, Jungkook had immediately known what he was planning on doing. And it had almost broken
him completely.

TAE, NO!

But then Taehyung was somehow miraculously alive, he had managed to get away from Jwi and it
had only taken Jungkook one look to confirm that Taehyung was okay before the demons hooked
their claws into his brain, howling at him to hurt, maim, kill－

He should have gone to Taehyung first. He knows, for the rest of his days, that he’ll always regret
not going to Taehyung first.

He suddenly becomes aware of the sound of the water splashing into the tub again and he pulls
back, looking over to see the tub is almost full. Placing a soft kiss on Taehyung’s stomach, he gets
to his feet and turns the tap off, testing the water with his hand to find that it’s hot, but not scalding.

Taehyung hasn’t moved at all so Jungkook goes back over to him and picks him up again, carrying
him over to the tub and carefully lowering him into it. Taehyung just sits there in the water, knees
up to his chest, staring at nothing. He doesn’t even seem to register the change of temperature.

Jungkook shucks his clothes off, his trembling hands fumbling over the buttons on his shirt until he
gets impatient and just rips it off, sending buttons pinging down onto the tiled floor. Once he’s
completely naked, he steps into the tub, settling behind Taehyung, pulling him back against his
chest, wrapping his arms around him.
Taehyung jerks against him, and he struggles, thrashing in the tub but Jungkook only tightens his
hold, putting his lips to Taehyung’s ear.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s me, you’re safe, it’s okay…”

And then it occurs to him that Taehyung has no reason to be reassured by his presence.

It’s a bleak thought but Jungkook ignores it, placing his hand on Taehyung’s chest, his heart
slamming against his palm like a trapped bird desperately beating its wings against its cage.

“Tae, it’s okay, shh, I got you…”

Taehyung heaves in a deep shuddering breath but he stops struggling, slumping back against
Jungkook’s chest, eyes fixed on the ceiling. After a few minutes, his breathing evens out and they
stay there for who knows how long, Jungkook holding Taehyung’s trembling body against his
own, murmuring more soothing words in his ear, the gentle lapping of the water in the tub the only
other sound.

As he strokes and soothes Taehyung, Jungkook thinks back to that moment in the mansion when he
had pressed Taehyung against the wall, moved inside him while gazing deeply into his eyes and
something inside of him had seemed to unlock. He had never felt so connected to anyone before,
during sex or at any other time in his life. It had been euphoric, like he was committing the
sweetest kind of sin and yet, it had felt completely right and natural. As if there was no one else he
needed, nowhere else he’d rather be than right beside Taehyung.

But he had fucked it all up, forgotten why they were there in the first place, what they needed to
do. And it’s because of him that they almost failed to get Jwi, it’s entirely his fault that Taehyung
almost sacrificed himself by nearly slitting his own throat and is now so far away from him that
Jungkook doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to reach him again.

The water gradually cools down until it’s only lukewarm and Jungkook decides to get Taehyung
out of the bath before he gets too cold. Stepping out of the tub, Jungkook lifts Taehyung out of the
water, beads of it dripping off his naked body and plinking down onto the tiled floor as Jungkook
grabs a towel and dries him off. Taehyung is still mute, still glassy-eyed but at least he’s stopped
shaking.

He carries Taehyung into the bedroom, tucking him into bed, climbing in beside him and wrapping
his arms around him again, their naked bodies pressed tightly together. He presses a gentle kiss to
Taehyung’s forehead, tracing a hand down his back, holding him close in the darkness. It isn’t until
he’s completely sure that Taehyung has drifted off to sleep that he gets out of bed, gets dressed
again, and heads back to the warehouse.

Yoongi sits on a metal folding chair, absently flicking Jwi’s switchblade in and out of the hilt as he
stares at the the gang leader lying on the concrete floor, the hood still over his face. Jwi had tried
talking to him earlier, his voice muffled as he attempted to appeal to Yoongi, offering him all kinds
of things: money, drugs, the keys to his Lambo. Yoongi hadn’t responded to any of these offers,
nor to the threats Jwi started making when he realized Yoongi wasn’t about to take the bait.
It’s been well over an hour since Jungkook had left but Yoongi does not dare start in on Jwi,
doesn’t touch him. He had believed Jungkook when he had said that he would use Yoongi as a
stand-in if he was insane enough to kill Jwi himself.

He hears the warehouse door slide open and looks around to see Jungkook come in, the heels of his
shoes echoing on the concrete. He walks right up to Jwi, staring down at him and Yoongi feels a
sliver of unease. There’s a dead, empty look in Jungkook’s eyes and he looks borderline unhinged.
Inhuman.

Yoongi steps up beside him and Jungkook holds out his hand. “The knife.”

Yoongi wordlessly passes him Jwi’s knife and Jungkook bends down next to Jwi, roughly pulling
him into a kneeling position and ripping the hood off. Jwi blinks up at him, his nose bent to one
side, smears of dried blood covering the lower half of his face.

“P-please,” Jwi stammers, his eyes wide in his ugly face. “Please, I－I’ll give you anything you
want, Jeon, just please－”

“Stop talking.” His voice has an eerily flat quality to it that only serves to heighten Yoongi’s sense
of uneasiness.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him!” Jwi babbles desperately, heedless of Jungkook’s warning. “I was just
playing, man, come on, wasn’t it obvious?” He lets out a shriek of hysterical laughter. “J-just a
fucking joke, I didn’t mean it－”

Jungkook crouches down in front of Jwi and, without warning, thrusts the knife into his cheek.

Jwi screams, trying to struggle away but Jungkook seizes him by his greasy hair and gouges the
blade in deeper. “You pulled a knife on him,” Jungkook says, still in that eerily flat voice. “You
threatened to slit his throat right in front of me.” Jungkook twists the knife and Jwi’s eyes nearly
bulge out of their sockets, a choked gagging noise coming out of his mouth. “Did you really think,
after doing all that to him, that I would be merciful?”

Jwi’s mouth gapes open like a fish, blood pouring out of it, his gaze swiveling to Yoongi, pleading
silently for help but, even if Yoongi wanted to stop Jungkook, he wouldn’t. He’s not that stupid.

“You made him bleed,” Jungkook whispers. “So I am going to skin you.”

The hairs at the back of Yoongi’s neck rise and this time his unease escalates to horror. Yes,
they’ve tortured people before but always for some purpose or other, to get information and things
like that. They’ve never once tortured for the purposes of revenge and something like this,
something so gruesome, seems a bit extreme, even for them.

“Boss…?” Yoongi says uncertainly.

“Go outside and guard the door,” Jungkook says, not taking his eyes off Jwi. “Have a cleanup crew
on standby. Don’t come back in until I tell you to.”

“Yes, boss.”

Yoongi goes outside and stands in front of the warehouse door, gazing up at the moon. A cool
breeze drifts past him, ruffling his hair and causing him to shiver but it’s not the only reason for the
chill stealing over him. He keeps his eyes on the cold bright moon, attempting to empty his mind of
all other thoughts.
The screams coming from inside go on for a very long time.

Jungkook showers at Yoongi’s place, the water going down the drain tinted red for a good half an
hour before it finally runs clear. He soaps himself up three times over, scrubbing his skin nearly
raw, wanting to make sure that there is not a trace of Jwi’s blood left anywhere on him. There is no
way he’ll even think about touching Taehyung again while any of that fucker’s blood remains on
him.

Once he’s satisfied that he’s finally clean of all the dirt and blood, Jungkook gets out of the shower
and changes into the sweatshirt and joggers that Yoongi provided for him. Yoongi’s shorter than
him but he likes oversized clothes when he’s hanging out at home so the clothes mostly fit him,
even though the pants are a little short at the ankle. He steps out of the bathroom, closing the door
softly behind him. According to Yoongi, Jimin is still in the bedroom, sleeping.

Yoongi is sitting at the dining table when Jungkook comes out, his hands clasped in front of him.
“I was out of line earlier,” he says, turning to look at Jungkook. “Undermining you in front of the
others. I apologize for that.”

“Not like you haven’t done it before,” Jungkook says shortly. He doesn’t give a fuck about Yoongi
undermining him. All he cares about is getting home to Taehyung.

“You want some coffee or something?” Yoongi says, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I can make
eggs or－”

“Thanks, but I’ll be heading back to my place,” Jungkook says, shoving his hands in his pockets.
They’re both quiet for a few seconds, neither of them looking at each other.

“I’m appointing you temporary leader of the Yong Jegug,” Jungkook says finally.

“What?” Yoongi glances up at him, looking puzzled. “Why?”

“Because my priority right now is taking care of Taehyung. And I trust your judgment more than
anyone else’s. If anything comes up that you think is urgent, you can consult me on it but only if
it’s urgent. Got it?”

Yoongi opens his mouth, closes it again and then nods, looking away from him. “Yes, boss,” he
mutters.

“Good.” Jungkook heads toward the door. “Congratulations, Yoongi, you finally got what you
wanted.”

“For fuck’s sake!” Jungkook turns to see Yoongi slam his fist down on the table, glaring at him.
“It’s never what I wanted, Jungkook,” he says and Jungkook can detect a faint break in his voice.
“You know that. You have to know that.”
 Jungkook stares at him for a long moment, his hand on the doorknob. “Either way, I’m sure he
would be very proud of you right now.”

Then, before Yoongi can respond, Jungkook opens the door and leaves without another word.

Once he’s back at his penthouse, Jungkook heads straight for the bedroom, stripping off his
borrowed clothes and slipping back into bed beside Taehyung, spooning against him.

Taehyung stirs, his body tensing until Jungkook whispers, “Don’t worry, it’s me,” and then he
relaxes, his hand reaching for Jungkook’s and holding onto it tightly.

Jungkook closes his eyes, completely exhausted and he’s just about to drift off to sleep when he
hears Taehyung speak.

“Did you kill him?” he says in a hushed voice.

“Yeah, baby, I killed him.”

Taehyung sighs, squeezing his hand. “Good.”

Chapter End Notes

Sorry, I don't have time to go through the next chapter and find a proper preview for
you guys, all I can say is that Jungkook and Taehyung's relationship develops further...

Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)

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 Chapter 8
Chapter Summary

And I will try to fix you...

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Jungkook doesn’t wake up until much later that morning to find Taehyung still curled up beside
him. He thinks Taehyung is still asleep until he notices his fingers plucking at the corner of the
pillow. He yawns, giving Taehyung’s waist a squeeze. “How you feeling, baby?”

Taehyung’s shoulders jerk up in what Jungkook considers to be a shrug.

“You hungry?”

Another jerk of the shoulders and Jungkook frowns, sitting up so he can see Taehyung’s face better.
He’s staring straight ahead, knees drawn up to his chest, his fingers still worrying the corner of the
pillow.

There’s a tightness in his chest as he stares down at Taehyung but Jungkook hopes Taehyung’s odd
behaviour is due to his exhaustion and nothing worse than that. After all, they had only had time
for a brief meal before they had needed to start getting ready for the Party and neither of them have
eaten since. Maybe once Taehyung eats he’ll feel better.

“I’ll get us some food made, okay?”

Taehyung just shrugs again so Jungkook, his uneasiness increasing, gets out of bed and pulls a pair
of sweatpants on before calling down to his personal chef and ordering up some bacon, eggs, and
toast.

“Waffles too,” he adds before he hangs up, remembering Jin once mentioning that they seemed to
be Taehyung’s favorite.

Forty minutes later after he’s showered and dressed, one of his staff is at the door with a serving
tray and Jungkook takes it from her and carries it into the bedroom, setting it down on his end
table.

“Come on, Tae, breakfast is ready,” he says, sitting on the edge of the bed, slathering some butter
on his toast and shoving it in his mouth. His stomach rumbles peevishly and he swipes a piece of
bacon up too, chewing on it as he pours syrup over the waffles.

Taehyung slowly sits up, slouched against one of the pillows, staring dully at the breakfast tray.
His eyes still look worryingly blank and he makes no move to take any of the food.

“Tae,” Jungkook says, injecting a note of gentle warning into his tone. “You need to eat.” He cuts
up the waffles and then stabs a syrup-lathered piece with the fork and holds it up to Taehyung’s
mouth, the bit of waffle drooling syrup back onto the plate.
Taehyung stares at the waffle for a few seconds and then, to Jungkook’s relief, opens his mouth.
He carefully feeds Taehyung the waffle and Taehyung chews mechanically, staring down at the
plate. Jungkook is just spearing another bite onto the fork when he hears Taehyung say something,
his voice muffled by the food still in his mouth.

“Hmm?” Jungkook glances up, his eyes fixed on Taehyung. “What’d you say, baby?”

Taehyung swallows his mouthful of food and tries again. “Are you going to get rid of me?”

Jungkook starts to feel that tightness in his chest again and he puts the plate back on the tray,
taking Taehyung’s hands in his. “No, baby, of course not,” he says gently. “Why would I get rid of
you?”

“Because he touched－” Taehyung sucks in a deep breath, his eyes shimmering with tears.
“Because he t-touched－” He pulls away from Jungkook, his hands flying up to feel the cuts on his
neck. “Because he touched me,” he gasps out. He lets out a strangled sob, scrambling back against
the headboard, looking wildly around the room as if he doesn’t know where he is and then he’s
screaming, his hands are fisted in his hair and he’s screaming and crying, hyperventilating to the
point where Jungkook thinks he might pass out. He grabs Taehyung and lifts him onto his lap,
cradling him in his arms and Taehyung clutches at him and sobs, and it’s all Jungkook can do not to
start screaming himself.

“Just breathe,” Jungkook whispers, his voice shaking, “come on, baby, just breathe, shh, I got you,
shh…”

After what feels like an eternity, Taehyung’s harsh sobs taper off to little whimpering noises but
he’s started trembling again, his entire body shivering in Jungkook’s arms. After helping Taehyung
get dressed－having to lift Taehyung’s limbs like he was putting clothes on a ragdoll－Jungkook
carries Taehyung into the living area and lays him down on the couch, thinking that maybe all
Taehyung needs is a chance to relax and tune out, occupy his mind with something else.

After turning on Netflix and getting no response when he asks Taehyung what he feels like
watching, Jungkook selects a random anime and just sits there beside him as the story unfolds,
glancing at Taehyung every ten seconds to gauge his reactions. But he doesn’t laugh during any of
the funny parts, doesn’t tear up at any of the sappy bits－he just stays curled up on one end of the
sofa, staring blankly at the screen.

After a few episodes, Jungkook turns off the anime and, out of sheer desperation, turns on a gory
horror movie. He hates himself for doing it but he’s getting anxious now and he wants to try and
provoke some sort of reaction out of Taehyung, even if it’s a negative one. But Taehyung is
completely unresponsive to the copious amounts of blood and guts splattering across the television
screen, watching the movie with no visible sign of interest, as if he’s watching nothing more
exciting than a car insurance commercial.

He switches back to the anime and tries feeding Taehyung again but he only accepts a couple of
bites of food and a few sips of water before stubbornly turning his face away when Jungkook tries
to offer him more. Except for the few words he had spoken that morning, Taehyung remains
completely silent throughout the entire day. As the sun starts to sink below the skyscrapers outside,
Jungkook turns the TV off and kneels down beside Taehyung on the floor in front of the sofa,
taking one of Taehyung’s hands in his, lacing their fingers together.

Come on, my little tiger, he thinks as he runs his hand through Taehyung’s hair, gazing into his
face, come back to me.
But Taehyung just stares at him with those blank, empty eyes, silent and distant. And he remains
like that throughout the next day. And the one after that.

***

“You ever been fucked with a knife?”

Taehyung comes thrashing awake, a scream lodged in his throat, the image of Jwi’s ugly rat grin
still imprinted in his mind. He feels hands grabbing at him and he strikes out blindly, his fist
connecting with something solid.

“Ow! For fuck’s sake, Tae, it’s me!”

He blinks and Jungkook’s face comes into focus in the shadowed bedroom, his arms wrapped
tightly around Taehyung’s waist, holding onto him. “It’s me,” he says, quieter now. “It’s okay,
you’re safe.”

Taehyung gulps in a huge breath, allowing Jungkook to pull him back down to lie beside him, his
head nestled on Jungkook’s shoulder, Jungkook’s hands stroking delicate patterns over his back.
Taehyung whimpers, burrowing into Jungkook’s solid warmth, clutching at him as images from
his nightmares flash through his mind.

In those blood-chilling dreams, Taehyung is once again in his cage while Jwi and other leering,
faceless men surround him, gazing in at him through the bars, baring their teeth, salivating while
holding cruelly sharp knives. They gibber and shriek like hyenas, taunting him, laughing at him as
he sobs and screams for help, telling him in the most graphic detail what they plan on doing to him
once they open the door to his cage. Sometimes they stay outside, unable to pick the lock, rattling
the bars as they try to get to him. But sometimes they get in.

Taehyung wants the dreams to stop, he just wants everything to stop. He can’t believe that he had
finally decided to die, finally come to terms with leaving everything behind and is somehow forced
to go on living. Dying would have been so much easier.

So he’s done the next best thing. He’s given up completely, all the fight drained out of him, no
longer wanting to engage with the world, wanting no part of it. Why would he? It’s only brought
him pain and sorrow, twisted him into this bitter, unhappy person. So what’s the point? Seriously,
what is the fucking point? He should have given up long ago, it would have been so much easier
after his mother died to just lie down and never rise again.

But Jeon Fucking Jungkook won’t leave him the fuck alone, keeps trying to shove food in his face,
carrying him into the shower and insisting on washing him even as Taehyung just stands there
under the spray, unmoving. He makes Taehyung lie on the sofa next to him as they watch an
endless stream of idiotic movies and dumbfuck anime, Taehyung’s head in Jungkook’s lap, not
taking in any of it. His interest in anything, even the smallest thing, has completely evaporated. He
doesn’t want food, he doesn’t want sex, and he certainly doesn’t want to sit in front of the TV all
day. Jungkook could lock him in a stark white room with nothing at all to do and Taehyung would
be perfectly content to sit there until he died. That’s the only thing he feels like doing now－
waiting to die. He just wants to retreat inside himself where no one can reach him but Jungkook is
always tugging at him, somehow always there to force him out of bed, make him eat a couple of
bites of food, insist that he keep on living even though it’s the furthest thing from what Taehyung
wants.

Jungkook’s hands skim over Taehyung’s back, the warmth of them stealing away the cold that
Taehyung wants to wrap himself in. “It’s okay,” Jungkook murmurs against his hair, “you’re safe.”

Safe.

Taehyung’s heart nearly cracks in half and, deep inside himself, he feels a faint echo of something
he vaguely remembers feeling before, something he had felt for the man lying beside him before
he had decided to give up.

***

Jungkook knocks on the door to Yoongi’s apartment, anxiety thrumming through him at leaving
Taehyung by himself, even if it is just for a short while. But he’s become desperate at this point,
it’s been four entire days since the Party and Taehyung is still in a nearly comatose state. He’s
willing to try anything at this point.

Yoongi opens the door, looking haggard, dark circles under his eyes, lines of exhaustion drawn
tightly around his mouth. He raises an eyebrow at Jungkook. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks. So do you.”

Yoongi steps aside, beckoning Jungkook to come in. “What are you doing here? Coming to check
up on me?”

“Partly. I was actually hoping to talk to Jimin, though.”

“Jimin? Why would you want to－”

But they’re interrupted by angry footsteps and they turn to see Jimin marching right up to them. He
raises his hand and smacks Jungkook right in the face, his palm cracking against his cheek with
such force that Jungkook actually rocks back a step.

“How fucking dare you!” Jimin shrieks, raising his hand again. “You motherfucker, you were
supposed to keep anything from happening to him!” He tries to slap Jungkook again, but Yoongi
grabs him around the waist, hauling him away from Jungkook.

“Jimin, stop!”

“Yoongi, let go, that asshole actually let that Jwi fucker get close enough to pull a knife on him!
Tae could have fucking died－”
“Jimin, I know!” Jungkook roars. “I know it’s my fault, okay?”

Jimin stops struggling against Yoongi’s hold and just gapes at him for a second. Then he composes
himself, rearranging his face into an indifferent expression and shrugs Yoongi off.

“Well, of course it’s your fucking fault,” Jimin snaps, crossing his arms over his chest. He gives
Jungkook a disgusted look. “What the fuck are you doing here anyway?”

“I need your help,” Jungkook says and he hurries on when he sees Jimin open his mouth to start
arguing with him. “With Tae, I need your help with Tae. I just－” He blows out a breath, running a
hand through his hair. “I just really think he could use a friend right now.”

Jimin’s expression softens slightly and then he nods. “All right,” he says quietly, “just give me a
couple of minutes.”

He heads off in the direction of the bedroom and Jungkook and Yoongi stand there awkwardly for
a few seconds, not looking at each other.

“So,” Jungkook says finally, more to fill the silence than anything else, “how are things?”

“Okay, I guess,” Yoongi replies. “None of the other leaders seemed to really care that Jwi has
disappeared, funnily enough. I arranged a meeting with Baek and Nam Kang-Dae to divide up his
territory between us.”

“Oh,” Jungkook says, nodding vaguely. “Good.”

“A couple of people have been asking around, wondering where you are. I just said that you
decided to go on vacation.”

Jungkook nods again. It’s weird, even though he feels slightly guilty about leaving Yoongi to take
care of everything on his own, there’s not a lot he misses about being the leader of the Yong Jegug.
He knows he can’t hide away with Taehyung forever, he has responsibilities that he can never
shake but, if he’s being honest with himself, a vacation sounds nice.

Before he can ask Yoongi anything else, Jimin comes out of the bedroom, freshly changed and,
after grabbing a few snacks out of the cupboard, comes over to where Jungkook and Yoongi are
still standing by the door.

“Okay,” he says soberly, “let’s go.”

Once they’re back at the penthouse, Jimin heads straight over to Taehyung, exactly where
Jungkook had left him curled up on one end of the sofa, staring off into space.

“TaeTae?” Jimin says softly, sitting down beside him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “You
okay?”

Taehyung stirs, glancing up at him. “Hey, Jimin,” he mutters.

Jungkook’s heart thumps erratically in his chest and he steps closer. It’s the most Taehyung has
spoken in the last few days.

But then Taehyung’s face crumples and he lets out a strangled sob, covering his face with his
hands, his shoulders shaking.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t cry…” Jimin rubs Taehyung’s back, turning to glare at Jungkook and he
decides to leave them on their own for a little while.

He steps out into the hallway where Jin is still standing guard and leans back against the wall,
heaving a sigh.

“How is he?” Jin asks hesitantly.

“About the same,” Jungkook says dully. “Although he seemed to recognize Jimin, at least.”

“Well, that’s good, I guess.”

“Hmm.” Jungkook sinks down to sit on the floor, propped up against the wall and after a few
seconds, Jin sits down across from him.

“I keep going over it in my head,” Jungkook says, staring at a spot on the wall beside Jin’s
shoulder. “I just keep wondering what I could have done differently, how I could have prevented it,
you know?”

“Yeah, me too,” Jin says, tapping his fingers against his knee. “I feel like it was my fault, I was the
one who left him on his own to come talk to you guys－”

“No,” Jungkook says, shaking his head. “It wasn’t your fault, Jin. It was mine. I should never have
brought him there in the first place, I should have known it would be too risky.”

“At least he’s still alive,” Jin says quietly.

Barely, Jungkook thinks but doesn’t say out loud.

“I thought I would know what it would be like to be the leader,” he says instead. “But I had no
fucking idea.”

“Well, I don’t think any of us really knew what we were getting into,” Jin says, “back before our
initiations, I mean.”

Jungkook snorts. “Yeah, we thought it was all gonna be expensive cars and tons of cash and
looking like a badass because we would finally be allowed to carry guns.”

“Yep,” Jin says absently, staring at the floor.

Jungkook considers him for a few moments. He had known Jin practically all his life, just like he
had known Yoongi for such a long time. Both like older brothers to him and Jungkook had known,
even before he became the leader of the Yong Jegug that they would both be members of his inner
circle because he trusted them, felt like they were part of his family. But as he had gotten older and
his father really started to train him to one day take his place, he had discouraged Jungkook from
being so close to them, treating them so informally.

“You will be their leader one day,” his father had told him. “Not their friend. Make sure they know
their place. You must not be afraid to discipline them when you have to.”
And his father had always hissed in his ear that Jin would make a poor member of his inner circle
anyway, there was a reason Jin served as a guard and not as an assassin or mediator or any other
type of position where he was required to get his hands dirty. He was too soft, too weak. In other
words, Jin had managed to hold onto a shred of his humanity and was still capable of being kind
and modest.

Weak. His father would still think that of Jin. But Jin had risked his own life to protect Taehyung
and, if it wasn’t for him, Taehyung might very well be dead by now. Weak. Jungkook bristles at
the echo of his father’s voice in his head. Jin wasn’t weak. He was the furthest thing from it.

“You’ve been doing a really good job protecting him, Jin,” Jungkook says quietly. “I mean it. I
wouldn’t trust anyone else to look after him the way you have. So I don’t want you blaming
yourself for what happened.”

Jin’s gaze flicks up to him and he looks genuinely surprised by Jungkook’s words. “Er…thanks,
boss.”

And Jungkook wants to tell Jin to stop calling him that, to just go back to calling him Jungkook or
JK. He even starts to say so but then the door opens and Jimin comes out into the hall, his eyes a
little swollen.

Jungkook and Jin both get to their feet. “How is he?” Jungkook asks.

“He’s sleeping now,” Jimin says wearily. “Ate a few bites of food but that was about it. I just put a
movie on but he didn’t really seem to watch it.”

“Did he say anything?”

Jimin looks at Jungkook, biting his lip. “He said that you make it better at night,” he says
reluctantly. “Whatever the fuck that means, he didn’t really elaborate.” He sighs, running a hand
through his hair. “So whatever the fuck it is you’re doing, you must be doing something right.” He
straightens his coat, turning to leave. “I’ll come over again in the next couple of days to see him.”

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “I can get Jin to take you－”

“No need,” Jimin says shortly, walking down the hallway. “Yoongi’s already waiting for me
downstairs.” He steps into the elevator and Jungkook sees him scrub a hand over his face before
the doors slide closed, hiding him from view.

Jungkook steps toward the door, wanting to get back to Taehyung as quickly as possible but then
he pauses when an idea strikes him.

“Where was his favorite place to go, Jin?” Jungkook asks. “Like, before all this, when you took
him out places, where did he most like to go?”

“Art galleries, usually,” Jin says. “Places like the Kukje or the PKM, usually. They show a lot of
avant-garde stuff, you know?”

“Right…” Jungkook nods to himself, opening the door. “Thanks, Jin.”

He steps inside, closing the door behind him and goes over to the sofa where Taehyung is still
sleeping. He picks him up and cradles him to his chest, starting to carry him to the bedroom when
he feels Taehyung shift slightly, his arms coming up around Jungkook’s neck, his head nestled
against Jungkook’s chest.
Jungkook pauses, looking down at him. “You okay, baby?”

Taehyung makes a little humming noise. “M’ tired…”

“I know, baby, I’m taking you to bed.” He carries Taehyung the rest of the way to the bedroom and
lays him down on the bed, tucking the covers around him. Once he climbs in beside him and wraps
his arms around him, Jungkook lays awake for a while, staring at the ceiling, a plan formulating in
his head…

***

The next morning, Jungkook lets Taehyung sleep in while he holds a quick meeting with his inner
circle－bizarrely right out in the hallway of his penthouse, which is a first for all of them. Once
he’s told them his idea and how he wants them to execute it, they respond with such enthusiasm
that Jungkook has to whisper-shout at Bogum to keep his voice down, who is practically buzzing
with excitement.

After Yoongi suggests that they get Jimin in on it as well, Jungkook dismisses them and Jin leads
the way after reassuring Jungkook that he’ll keep him posted and let him know when it’s all done.
Once they’re gone, Jungkook heads back into the bedroom and sits beside Taehyung, gently
shaking him awake.

“Come on, Tae, wake up. We’re going out today.”

Taehyung blinks up at him, yawns once and stretches－and then rolls over, facing away from him
and hiking the covers up over his head.

Jungkook grits his teeth and stands up, forcibly pulling the covers off of Taehyung and throwing
them towards the end of the bed. “Tae, come on, I’m having work done here today and it’s going
to be loud and noisy and there’s going to be a bunch of people milling around here. You really want
to be around for that?”

Taehyung groans, curled up into a ball. “Go away.”

“Taehyung, if you think I won’t drag you out of here wearing nothing but your tee shirt and boxer
shorts, fucking try me. You have five seconds to get up and get your ass in the shower. Five…”

Taehyung glances over his shoulder at him, giving him a reproachful look.

“Four…” Jungkook continues, “three…two…” He starts to reach for Taehyung but he knocks
Jungkook’s hand away, getting up and storming into the bathroom.

“Fucking fine, I’m going!”

Jungkook heaves a sigh of relief. An annoyed, angry Taehyung is certainly better than a silent,
lethargic one. Plus, it’s the first time Taehyung has gotten himself into the shower all by himself in
about a week.

Taehyung takes an inordinate amount of time in the shower to the point where Jungkook has to go
in and harass him out of it. Once Taehyung is dried off and dressed in the clothes Jungkook has
laid out for him, he reluctantly follows Jungkook out of the penthouse and down to the parking
garage－but he stops when Jungkook opens the passenger side door for him.

“Where are we going?” he asks, staring into the car.

“You’ll find out when we get there,” Jungkook replies. “Get in.”

But Taehyung steps away from the car, his head swiveling back to the elevator that will take him
back to the penthouse. “No…I don’t want to…”

“Tae, get in the car!” Jungkook hadn’t meant to yell but his voice ends up echoing around the
parking garage, bouncing off the concrete walls.

Taehyung stares at him but he doesn’t look angry or even hurt. Instead, right in front of his eyes, he
sees Taehyung retreat back into his shell, his face completely devoid of any expression.

“Tae, please,” Jungkook says, softer now. “Please get in the car. I need you to come out with me
today.”

After what feels like an eternity, Taehyung folds himself into the front seat and Jungkook shuts the
door, going around and slipping into the driver’s seat beside him. He starts the ignition, flipping
through the radio stations until he finds some generic pop music.

“You can change it if you want,” Jungkook says as he pulls out of the garage and out onto the
street.

Taehyung leans forward and switches the music off before crouching down in his seat, wrapping
his coat around him and they drive in complete silence for the next twenty minutes. But once
Jungkook pulls into a parking space right outside the PKM Gallery, Taehyung sits up a little bit,
peering out the window.

“What are we doing here?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Just felt like coming here today,” he says casually. “And I was hoping you
might like to accompany me.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond to that but he doesn’t resist when Jungkook opens the door for him and
helps him out of the car. As they climb the steps, he sees Taehyung eyeing the poster outside the
gallery that advertises their current exhibits with what could be considered cautious interest.

Once inside, the first piece they’re confronted with is a towering glass sculpture, twisting and
curving in a rainbowed ribbon up to the gallery’s ceiling. He hears Taehyung’s sharp intake of
breath as they stand there gazing up at it.

“Wow,” he breathes, walking around it, looking at it from every angle. “That’s incredible.”

Jungkook nods, but he’s more focused on Taehyung than on the sculpture. His mouth is open in
awe, eyes wide as he comes full circle around the sculpture to stand beside Jungkook again.
“Wonder how long it took the artist to make?”

“I’d imagine a couple of hours at least.” He had been attempting to make a joke but he doesn’t
think it really lands because Taehyung is already looking around the rest of the gallery, not really
paying attention to him.
“Wonder what else they have…”

Jungkook lets Taehyung lead the way as they continue throughout the rest of the gallery, checking
out some more glass sculptures by the same artist－blown glass flowers blooming along one wall,
and a more abstract sculpture that is made up of triangular prisms, reflecting beams of coloured
light.

“The exploration of the centre of the sun,” Taehyung murmurs, reading off the card pasted beside
the sculpture. “Huh. I like that.”

They move onto another room of the gallery that has abstract paintings done in black, white and
grey but Taehyung doesn’t really seem to like these because he moves onto the next room almost
immediately that has acid-bright neon paintings of pink trees and green owls. The colors remind
Jungkook of Hoseok’s suits but Taehyung lingers over them for a while, seeming to admire the
eye-searing vividness of them.

Just as Taehyung is staring at a painting of a purple skyscraper, another couple wanders in, walking
behind Taehyung as they pass by and Taehyung startles a little, his head swiveling to look over his
shoulder. Blowing out a shaky breath, he faces the painting again, drawing his coat tightly around
him but then he looks over his shoulder again, staring around the room. His eyes are wide,
borderline panicked and Jungkook can see him already retreating inside himself again.

He steps up behind him, gently cupping Taehyung’s elbows with his hands, not pressing too close
but just enough to let him know that he’s there. Taehyung tenses, glancing back at him. “What are
you doing?”

“Well, this way if anyone tries to come up behind you, they’ll have to go through me first.”

“Oh.” Taehyung turns to look back at the painting again, and Jungkook can feel him relax a little.
“Okay.”

They move into the next room of the gallery to find the space almost completely filled with
monkeys－little wire monkeys suspended from the ceiling; tiny wire monkeys scattered over the
floor in a seemingly random pattern; and one huge wire monkey in the center of all of it, it’s wire
paws raised high as if it’s about to either surrender or start praising Jesus.

“Um…” Taehyung says, looking around at the monkeys. “This is…interesting.”

“What do you think it means?”

“I dunno,” Taehyung says, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Something about evolution? Or
religion, maybe?”

“Or maybe the guy just has a really weird fucking thing for monkeys.”

Taehyung’s hand falls from his face and he stares at Jungkook, looking shocked. “Did you just
make a joke?”

“The guy thinks Planet of the Apes is a porno movie,” Jungkook continues, on a roll now. “He
jacks off to the centerfold spreads of monkeys in National Geographic.”

“Oh my god,” Taehyung says, swatting him on the arm. “You’re terrible.” He glances back at the
tiny wire monkey sculptures but not before Jungkook catches the hint of a smile curving his lips.
And when they move onto the next and final room, Jungkook swears that Taehyung lets out a
small giggle and says, “monkey porn,” under his breath.
There’s a few interesting sculptures in the last room－a marble statue of a winged goddess, a
dragon made entirely out of chopsticks, and another one they couldn’t quite figure out－Taehyung
thought it might be an octopus but Jungkook said it looked more like a spider having a brain
aneurysm. The card didn’t really help. It just read ‘Eight.’

And that’s when Taehyung notices the banana duct-taped to the wall.

“That can not be an exhibit,” he says, moving closer and staring at it. “Someone had to have put it
here as a joke.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook replies, coming over to stand beside him. “It does have a card next to it.”

Indeed the banana does have a card displayed next to it, helpfully providing them with the title:
Banana Duct Taped to Wall.

“No fucking way!” Taehyung gapes at the banana, looking outraged. “That’s not art! That’s not
even a good practical joke! There’s no talent behind it, no skill－”

“Well,” Jungkook says, trying not to laugh, “some people might say that the very fact that it’s
provoking such a strong reaction from you would make it art.”

“Are you kidding me?” Taehyung says, turning to glare at him. “You’d have to be down to your
last brain cell to consider that art.”

And there it is. A spark of anger in Taehyung’s eyes, a flickering ember of that familiar fire that
had once blazed so fiercely and when Jungkook sees it, he can’t help himself－he grins.

Taehyung frowns at him. “You’re making fun of me,” he mutters, turning away from him.

“You’re really cute when you’re mad, you know that?”

“Shut up.” But a there’s a small smile on his lips even as he says it.

“I do agree with you, you know,” Jungkook says quietly. “Someone once said to me that while
good art can provoke and shock and be controversial, if there’s no skill to back it up…” He shrugs.
“Then the shock value ends up obscuring the meaning behind it and so it becomes meaningless.”

Taehyung glances at him, a bemused look on his face. “Who told you that?”

Jungkook shrugs again, staring at the banana but not really seeing it. “Just someone I used to
know.”

“Well, they sound like they knew what they were talking about.” Taehyung looks back at the
banana taped to the wall, shaking his head. “I bet you anything someone did put it there as a joke,
with a fake card and everything.” He steps forward, reaching his hand out. “I bet you if I pulled it
off the wall nothing would happen.”

“Tae…” Jungkook says, “maybe we shouldn’t－”

But Taehyung’s hand is already closing around the banana, yanking it off the wall. He pauses,
listening for a moment and then looks back at Jungkook, cocking an eyebrow. “See?” he says
triumphantly. “I told you it was a－”

There’s a shrill ringing noise and Taehyung immediately drops the banana.

They stare at each other wide-eyed as the alarm sounds from every direction and, behind
Taehyung, Jungkook can see a security guard heading straight for them.

“Holy fuck, come on!” Jungkook grabs onto Taehyung’s hand and hauls him from the room, both
of them weaving around the other confused patrons of the gallery as they book it to the front door.
The security guard is yelling something at them but Jungkook doesn’t pause to see what he wants,
pulling Taehyung behind him as he bursts through the front door, the two of them leaping down
the front steps and onto the sidewalk. They both rush into the nearest alleyway, and Jungkook
peers around the wall to see the security guard from the gallery out on the front steps, looking
around for them but after a minute or so, he gives up and goes back inside.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t actually fucking take it,” Jungkook says, blowing out a breath. “Or we
would have been hauled off to art jail.”

“Take it?” Taehyung gasps. “I should have fucking eaten it.” And then he bursts out laughing,
leaning against the alley wall, practically crying with hysterics and Jungkook feels a swelling
lightness in his chest as Taehyung’s laughter bubbles up to the sky.

After the banana debacle at the art gallery, Jungkook drives them to a little diner nearby so they
can get something to eat. Taehyung is a little more subdued now, entering the restaurant behind
Jungkook, staying close to him as he looks warily around at the people sitting in the booths,
looking over his shoulder every five seconds.

“Table for two,” Jungkook says to the hostess. “And make it a corner booth, please.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, sir, but all our corner booths are occupied at the moment. I can show you to
another table or－”

“No need,” Jungkook says, taking Taehyung by the elbow and walking right past her. He goes to
one of the corner booths at the back, where a young couple is cozied up together, sharing a plate of
fries between them.

“Find another table,” Jungkook says shortly, taking out his wallet and handing the guy a wad of
cash. The guy looks at the money in his hand, then back up at Jungkook, looking like he’s actually
about to start arguing with him but the girl snatches the cash from him and stuffs it in her purse.

“We’d be happy to!” she says, flashing him a smile and pulling the guy out of the booth and over
to a table by the window.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Taehyung mutters as they slide into the booth.

“I like corner booths,” Jungkook says stubbornly, signaling over a confused-looking waitress. Once
she hands them menus, Jungkook flips his open, looking at the American-style food on offer.
“What do you feel like?”

Taehyung shrugs, not even bothering to open his menu. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having,” he
mutters.

“Fine. We’ll have two cheeseburgers, two orders of fries, and two Cokes,” Jungkook says to the
waitress, handing her back the menus. “Oh, and a banana split for dessert.”
She bows and trots away with the menus tucked under her arm. Taehyung raises an eyebrow at
Jungkook. “A banana split? Really?”

Jungkook smirks at him. “Yeah, I was thinking instead of eating it, we could duct tape it to a wall
and sell it for a billion dollars.”

The corners of Taehyung’s lips quirk up. “If we got two banana splits and duct taped them to the
wall, we could make two billion dollars.”

“How very shrewd of you,” Jungkook says, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “You should be an art
dealer. Or an art critic, with your own column in some fancy art magazine.”

“Oh, I would have torn that fucking banana to pieces.”

“You practically did.”

Taehyung snorts but then goes quiet for a few seconds, fiddling with the salt shaker on the table.
“Thank you for taking me there today,” he says softly, not looking at him. “It was…nice to get out,
I guess.”

“Don’t have to thank me,” Jungkook says, “I－”

But at that moment the waitress returns with their food and they’re both quiet for a while as they
eat. It’s not exactly Wagyu beef but Jungkook supposes it’s tasty enough for greasy diner food and
at least Taehyung is eating, quietly chewing on his burger, his lower lip puffed out in a pout. Once
they’re down to the banana split, Jungkook slides a bit closer to Taehyung on the seat, under the
pretense of being able to share the ice cream between them. Taehyung gives him a sidelong glance
but doesn’t say anything, ducking his head shyly and spooning ice cream into his mouth.

“We really shouldn’t be eating this,” Taehyung says, going in for another bite. “This has the
potential to be a billion dollar sundae.”

“Not anymore, it isn’t. We’ve eaten most of the bananas already.”

Taehyung giggles, clamping his hand over his mouth to stifle the sound, slumping down in the
booth as he tries to contain himself. Once he’s gotten his laughter under control, he takes his hand
away from his mouth, heaving a sigh. “I’m never going to get over that,” he says, shaking his head.
“Every time I see a banana, I’m just going to fucking lose it.”

“Tae, I owe you an apology.”

“What?” Taehyung straightens up in the booth, frowning at him. “Why? I mean, for what?”

“For that night,” Jungkook says, forcing himself to keep looking into Taehyung’s face. Because it
would be too easy to look away, to hide from him but Jungkook reminds himself that he owes this
to Taehyung and he’s going to do it properly. He inhales a deep breath and goes on. “I owe you an
apology for letting Jwi get close to you. For putting your life in jeopardy when I promised that I
wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“Oh.” Taehyung looks away, biting his lip. He shrugs. “Wasn’t your fault,” he mutters. “I actually
feel like it was mine.”

Jungkook stares at him. “For fuck’s sake, why the fuck would it be your fault?”

Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest, still chewing on his lip. “Because I was stupid enough to
wander away from you guys. I was just so exhausted, I wasn’t even thinking clearly. And then…”
He trails off, blinking rapidly and Jungkook can see that his eyes are glistening. “I was so scared,”
he whispers. “And I couldn’t stand the thought of him taking me away somewhere and doing…
doing those th-things to me.” He swallows thickly, slouching back against the booth, his eyes
darting around the diner. “I just didn’t think I could stand it, I was such a fucking coward－”

“Hey!” Jungkook says sharply and Taehyung turns to look at him, eyes wide. “You are not a
coward, Tae. You’re one of the bravest people I know.” He reaches for Taehyung’s hand, taking it
in his own. “Actually, I think you might be the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

“I’m not brave,” Taehyung says in a hushed voice, shaking his head. “You don’t know what I was
thinking that night, the kinds of thoughts I’ve been having this past week－”

“You are brave,” Jungkook insists, squeezing Taehyung’s hand. Then he smiles. “You’re like a
little tiger cub.”

“A tiger cub?” Taehyung stares at him, looking at him as if Jungkook had just declared that he was
emperor of all Korea. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“It means you’re brave and ferocious,” Jungkook says, stroking his thumb over the back of
Taehyung’s hand. “You’re always snarling at anyone who dares to cross you. Usually me. But you
can’t help being so fucking adorable at the same time. So, like I said, you’re like a little tiger.”

“What a weird thing to say to me. You’re weird.” But Taehyung smiles as he says it, glancing
down at their intertwined hands. The smile fades from his face and he looks back up at Jungkook,
his expression a bit apprehensive now but he makes no move to pull his hand away. And
Jungkook, before he can stop himself, brings his other hand up to cup Taehyung’s cheek, his gaze
traveling down to Taehyung’s full lips. They shouldn’t be doing this, Jungkook reminds himself,
not in full view of the rest of the people in the diner, they’re sitting too close together as it is. Then
again, Jungkook would only take anybody who had a problem with it and put them underground,
this is his city after all and he can do whatever he wants, even kiss Kim Taehyung in the middle of
crowded diner. But…does Taehyung want him to? Would he allow it?

He looks back into Taehyung’s eyes, watching him closely for some sort of signal, some sign that
will give him the go-ahead to proceed. Taehyung is staring at him, his big brown eyes wide and he
resembles a puppy more than a tiger in that moment. Jungkook strokes his thumb over Taehyung’s
cheek and hears the hitch of Taehyung’s breath, sees his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips and
Jungkook, his self-restraint at the breaking point, shifts closer, starts to lean in－

His phone vibrates in his jacket pocket and Taehyung startles away from him, Jungkook’s hand
falling from his face. Quietly seething at the interruption. Jungkook takes his phone out and
answers it. “What?” he snaps.

“Uh, hey, boss,” Jin says uncertainly. “Just calling to let you know that we’ve pretty much finished
up here. You said you wanted me to give you a heads up when we were done…”

“Yeah, that’s fine, Jin,” Jungkook says, sighing and running a hand through his hair. “Thanks, tell
everyone they can leave.” He hangs up and looks over at Taehyung who has put about a foot and a
half of space between them and is currently folding and refolding one of the napkins on the table,
determinedly not looking at him.

Swallowing back his disappointment, Jungkook waves the waitress over. “Check please.”
Taehyung is quiet on the way home and when they get back up to the penthouse, he gives Jin a
tired smile and a nod before they go inside but nothing more than that. Jungkook closes the door
and Taehyung turns to him, shucking off his coat.

“I think I’ll go take a nap,” Taehyung says, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I’m kind of tired…”

“Okay,” Jungkook says slowly, taking Taehyung’s coat from him and hanging it up. “Can I show
you something first?”

“Show me something?” Taehyung immediately looks suspicious and he glances at the bedroom,
taking a step toward it. “Can’t you show me after? I’m really tired.”

“Tae, it’ll take two minutes, okay? And then you can take a nap, come on.” Jungkook beckons
Taehyung to follow him, striding to the door that led to his makeshift storage room. Or, what had
used to be his makeshift storage room.

Taehyung trails after him reluctantly. “What is it?”

“It’s…” Jungkook’s hand is on the knob but then he pulls back, turning to Taehyung. “It’s a
surprise. Close your eyes.”

Taehyung scowls at him, looking more irritable by the second. “Well, whatever it is, can’t it wait?
I’m not in the mood for a surprise right now, Jungkook, I want to get some sleep－”

“Tae, come on, just indulge me, okay? Close your eyes.”

Taehyung lets out an impatient huff but closes his eyes and Jungkook opens the door and takes a
quick look inside. Satisfied, he turns back to Taehyung and reaches for his hands. “I’ll lead you in.
Don’t open your eyes until I tell you to.”

“If this is a surprise party or something, I’m actually going to punch you in the face.”

“Easy there, tiger. No need for that.”

Taehyung snorts, a small smile playing around his lips now and Jungkook stops on the threshold,
staring at his mouth. It would be so easy just to close the distance between them right now, press
his lips to Taehyung’s and finally capture a kiss from him. Taehyung’s eyes are closed, he
wouldn’t even see it coming…

But no. He’s not going to do that. Not when he’s finally managed to gain at least some of
Taehyung’s trust. So he makes himself look away and leads Taehyung the rest of the way inside
the room.

“Can I open my eyes yet?”

“Uh…” Jungkook stalls, taking one last look around the transformed room. What if he doesn’t like
it? He moves so he’s standing right beside Taehyung, not wanting to block his view. “Yeah, okay,
you can open them now.”

Taehyung’s eyes fly open－and he gasps. He stands there, gaping around the room for ten seconds,
twenty seconds, not saying anything and Jungkook, feeling restless, starts to move around the
room.

“So your easel’s over here,” he says, only serving to point out the obvious when he goes to the
fully adjustable easel standing by the window. “You should have pretty good light over here but
there’s a couple of floor lamps you can use too if you find you need more.” He waves a hand at the
metal floor lamps in the corners of the room. “You’ve got a table here for drawing, of course, and
you can adjust this too so it’s at more of an angle, it’ll probably be better on your back if you do…
And all the supplies you should need are in here,” he continues, wandering over to the huge cabinet
standing along one wall and opening the doors. “So there’s a full set of brushes, they’re in this
leather roll here…a couple of palettes and palette knives…paint of course, I got you oils and
acrylics, I wasn’t sure which one you would prefer working with…oh, some more watercolor kits
too in case you just wanted to stick with that…some pastels, pencil crayons, pencils,
sketchbooks…” He closes the door and then indicates the blank canvases, leaning beside the
cabinet. “I told the guys to get you a few different sizes, but if there’s a certain size you want and
we didn’t get it or if you run out, just let me know and I’ll order more for you…” He nods at the
little table up against the opposite wall. “And that just has a little Bluetooth speaker on it so you
can listen to music or something while you’re in here－”

Jungkook hears a muffled sob and he turns to see Taehyung with his hands pressed to his mouth,
his shoulders shaking as tears leak out of his eyes and stream down his face.

“You don’t like it?” Jungkook says quietly, stepping towards him. “It’s okay if you don’t, I know I
didn’t ask you, we can make it into something else if you want－”

“No, it’s－” Taehyung removes his hands from his face, wrapping his arms around himself,
inhaling a shaky breath. “It’s wonderful.”

He reaches for Jungkook’s hand, giving it a brief squeeze before letting go, his eyes alight with joy
as he looks around the room and Jungkook thinks that he just might go ahead and turn his entire
penthouse into an art studio for him.

Taehyung stays in his brand new art studio for the rest of the day and Jungkook leaves him to his
own devices, poking his head out the door to tell Jin that it had been a success before calling
Yoongi to catch up on the Yong Jegug’s business dealings.

“All good, boss,” Yoongi says. “The division of Jwi’s territory went fairly smoothly and it sounds
like Hobi’s got another dove to auction off this week so, you know, that’ll bring some money in for
us.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“Uh, yeah, I…I’ve started up the search for him again, boss. I even might have a lead that traces
him to somewhere in South America.”

“Oh.”
“Yeah.”

There’s a pause as Jungkook tries to figure out how to parse this information, wonders if Yoongi is
even telling him the truth. But he wouldn’t be stupid enough to lie about it, not when Jungkook can
check with the other members of the inner circle so easily.

“I figured that’s what you would want me to do,” Yoongi says. “So…”

“No, that’s good. Let me know if you find out anything else.” It’s funny, they’ve been looking for
him for months now, with an all-consuming urgency but now that they finally have a lead,
Jungkook doesn’t feel any sense of relief or elation. He just feels sort of numb. And, if he’s
perfectly honest with himself, the search hasn’t seemed that important for a while now. Not since
he met Taehyung.

But still, they have to find him. There’s no other option but to find him at this point.

“How’s Taehyung doing?” Yoongi asks.

“Better, I think. He seems to like the art studio.”

“Oh. Good. Jimin will be glad to hear that.”

“Yeah…”

There’s another long, awkward pause and Jungkook can almost sense what Yoongi is thinking.
When the hell are going to come back and actually do your job?

“I’ll be back soon, Yoongi,” Jungkook says, not sure if he’s reassuring him or warning him. “You
won’t have to play leader for too much longer.”

Yoongi heaves a sigh. “Sounds good to me. This leader shit is fucking exhausting.”

“Fucking tell me about it.”

They might have laughed about it once, turned it into some kind of joke. But they both know all
too well by now that there’s nothing funny about it. About any of it.

They hang up and, after making sure Taehyung is still occupied in his studio, Jungkook goes down
to the gym to get in a workout, something he’s neglected this week. He stays down there for a
couple of hours, going for a leisurely jog on the treadmill, lifting some weights, and finishing up
by beating up a punching bag, getting some pent-up aggression out. Sometimes the image of Jwi’s
bleeding corpse flashes through his mind but he manages to block most of that night out. It helps
that he feels completely justified in what he did to Jwi. If he had to do it over again, he’d just end
up doing the exact same thing, only he’d do it even slower, draw it out even longer. His only regret
about it is that he only got to do it once.

Once he’s tired himself out, Jungkook heads back up to his penthouse and showers before calling
down to his personal chef and ordering up some food, just a simple stir fry along with some rice.
Taehyung comes out to eat a little bit when Jungkook asks him if he’s hungry but he can tell he’s
eager to get back to his studio judging by the way Taehyung wolfs down the food and then sits
there fidgeting while Jungkook is still eating.

“Go on,” Jungkook says, smirking at him. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

Taehyung immediately jumps up and trots back to his studio, leaving Jungkook on his own but he
doesn’t mind. As long as Taehyung is actually occupied with something and not laying on the sofa,
staring off into space, Jungkook considers it a good thing.

He sits in front of the TV until he’s tired and then he gets up and knocks on what he now considers
to be Taehyung’s door. “Tae? I’m heading to bed.”

“What? Oh, okay, be right there!”

“No, I was just letting you know. Stay there for as long as you want to.”

But Taehyung ends up coming into his room just as Jungkook is getting into bed, going into the
bathroom to wash his hands. “Those oil paints are really nice,” he calls over the sound of the water.
“I’ve never worked with them before, they’ll take some getting used to but I like working with
them so far…”

“Oh?” Jungkook says, grinning at him as Taehyung comes into the bedroom. “Does that mean
you’ve gone and painted a billion-dollar masterpiece already?”

Taehyung chuckles, stepping out of his pants and climbing into bed wearing nothing but his boxers
and oversized tee shirt. “No, not yet, I was mostly just experimenting. Mixing colours and stuff,
you know?”

“Hmm. Well, let me know once you’ve painted something and I’ll call up the art gallery so we can
sell it.”

“Are you trying to exploit my talent for money?”

Jungkook grins at him. “That’s the idea, yeah.”

“Jerk.” Taehyung turns out the light and crawls over to Jungkook. “I should have known you had
an ulterior motive.” He snuggles close, laying his head on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Seriously,
though, thank you,” he whispers. “For everything you did today.”

“You’re welcome.” Jungkook’s heart is pounding in his chest. He thinks this might be the first time
Taehyung has voluntarily cuddled up next to him and not just because he’s seeking comfort or
woken up from a bad dream. He tries to take deep, calming breaths, willing himself to fall asleep
but then all of his senses go on high alert when Taehyung starts tracing his fingertips over
Jungkook’s bare chest, his stomach－he’s only wearing a pair of sweatpants, his typical sleepwear.

“Tae,” he says, placing his hand over Taehyung’s, stopping him. “Go to sleep.”

Taehyung stills, his hand remaining on Jungkook’s stomach. “You don’t want me anymore?”

“What? Of course I want you, Tae. But…I just thought it was best if I gave you some space.”

“I know,” Taehyung whispers, moving his hand again, tracing circles over Jungkook’s skin,
goosebumps prickling along where his fingers brush. “But it seems kind of silly to keep me around
if you’re not going to have sex with me. Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

“Tae…” Jungkook doesn’t know how to answer that question. Because he doesn’t see Taehyung as
his whore anymore, doesn’t see him as a whore at all, not since that night at the mansion when it
dawned on him that Taehyung meant so much more to him than that. But if he’s not his whore…
what does that make him?

“And besides,” Taehyung continues, his hand moving lower now, tracing along the waistband of
Jungkook’s sweatpants, “…I’m horny…” He presses against Jungkook and Jungkook can feel him,
half hard through his boxers and his own body responds to the knowledge that Taehyung wants
him. Physically, at least.

Jungkook isn’t sure if it’s right to do this or not but hot arousal is already pulsing through him and
Taehyung is now pressing soft kisses to his chest, moving down his body to lick at his abs, his
tongue tracing the line of the scar on his stomach. His hands ghost over where his lips have been
and he turns his face, rubbing his cheek against Jungkook’s hard stomach.

“You’ve got such an amazing body,” he whispers, placing a kiss on Jungkook’s hipbone as he
hooks his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down just enough to allow his
cock to spring free. “And you’re so big…”

Jungkook fists his hands in the sheets, groaning as Taehyung drags his tongue along Jungkook’s
cock, from the root to the tip. “Tae…you don’t have to do that…”

“It’s okay…” Taehyung murmurs, wrapping a hand around him and lowering his mouth. “I want
to…”

Jungkook sucks in a breath through his teeth, his eyes fluttering closed as he feels the warm
wetness of Taehyung’s mouth engulf the head of his cock. It’s somehow worlds better than the few
times Taehyung has attempted to blow him before and Jungkook vaguely wonders if it’s because
Taehyung is actually into it, might be enjoying pleasuring him with his mouth.

And he does seem to be enjoying it, judging by the way he’s moaning around Jungkook’s cock,
taking even more of him inside his mouth, deliberately making himself gag on it as he strokes him
at the same time, his hand and his mouth moving in tandem with each other, speeding up.

“Holy fuck, Tae,” Jungkook moans, gently threading his hands through Taehyung’s hair. “Fuck,
baby, that’s so good…feels so fucking good…don’t stop…”

But then Taehyung does stop, pulling off of his cock with a sticky pop and Jungkook makes a noise
of frustration, his orgasm ebbing away. There’s a rustling sound and in the darkness of the room,
he can just make out Taehyung pulling his tee shirt off, wriggling out of his boxer shorts. Then he’s
moving up Jungkook’s body again, this time completely naked, straddling him, trying to lower
himself onto Jungkook’s cock.

“Fuck me, Jungkook,” he pleads, his voice desperate. “Fuck me…please…”

“Wait, baby, you’re not prepped, it’ll hurt－”

“Don’t care,” Taehyung whines, shaking his head. “I don’t care if it hurts, I want it, I want it so bad
－”

“Tae, I care.”

Taehyung stops moving, his eyes wide and black-looking in the shadows.

“I care if it hurts you,” Jungkook says again, running a hand over his thigh. “I want this too but I
want it to feel good for you. So let me prep you, okay?”

Time seems to stand still as they stare at each other through the darkness. Jungkook’s cock is
throbbing, aching with the desire to be inside Taehyung but he wants to do it right. He wants to get
it right this time.
Finally, Taehyung shifts, leaning over to get the lube out of the bedside table, handing it to
Jungkook. Taehyung remains on top of him, straddling his hips so once Jungkook has his fingers
slicked up, he reaches behind Taehyung, circling and teasing around his hole for a few moments
before easing one finger in, moving it in and out slowly.

Taehyung whimpers, grinding back against Jungkook’s hand, tugging at his own cock as he shifts
on top of him. “F-fuck…”

“You’re so tight,” Jungkook whispers, gazing up at him. “So fucking tight, baby, that’s why I have
to fuck you open first…have to get you ready to take my cock…”

“H-hurry,” Taehyung whines, his breath hitching as Jungkook slides in another finger, “p-please,
Jungkook, hurry…”

Jungkook complies, moving his fingers faster, stretching him open and by the time he’s three
fingers deep, Taehyung is writhing on top of him, trembling with need, his voice ragged as he begs
Jungkook to ‘put it in.’

“Okay, baby, hold on…”

Jungkook carefully removes his fingers and grasps his cock in his hand, positioning Taehyung over
it. “Lower yourself onto it, baby, nice and slow…”

They both groan as Taehyung sinks down onto Jungkook’s cock, Taehyung’s mouth falling open as
he lowers himself, inch by inch, until Jungkook’s cock is fully sheathed inside him. “Oh my god,”
he moans, his fingernails digging into Jungkook’s chest, “oh my god…”

Jungkook gazes up at him, feeling like his entire body might burst into flame at being engulfed by
Taehyung’s tight wet heat, he’s dying to start moving but he makes himself hold still, waiting for
Taehyung to adjust. This usually isn’t his favorite position to be in, he just always feels so fucking
vulnerable lying on his back, not being in control but for Taehyung, he’ll make an exception.
Tonight, he’ll gladly hand over the reins to him. Finds that he wants to.

“Come on, baby, move,” Jungkook urges, grasping Taehyung’s hips. “Ride me…”

Taehyung lifts himself up slightly before easing himself back down, his palms pressing against
Jungkook’s chest. “L-like this?”

“However you want to, baby…take what you need…”

Taehyung whimpers, moving on top of him, experimenting with different angles, different rhythms
until he gasps, grinding down against him and bucking his hips desperately against Jungkook’s
palms. “Ohhhh fuck…fuck it feels so good…”

“Right there, baby?” Jungkook tightens his grip on Taehyung’s hips and starts to thrust upwards.
“You want it right there?”

“Y-yes, oh my god, Jungkook, right there, right fucking there, please…”

Jungkook thrusts up into Taehyung faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room,
mixed with Taehyung’s sobs of pleasure, crying out ‘yesyesyes’ as he bounces erratically on top of
Jungkook, head thrown back as he releases all over Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook’s not far behind,
his own orgasm shuddering through him as Taehyung’s hips stutter, his hole clenching tightly
around his cock.
Taehyung collapses on top of him, their bodies slick with sweat and cum but Jungkook just holds
him closer, wrapping his arms around his waist, feeling Taehyung tremble against him.

“Feel better?” he whispers.

“Mmm,” Taehyung mumbles against his skin, “much better.”

They fall asleep like that, not bothering to get up and shower, limbs intertwined as they drift away
into dreaming darkness…

Taehyung cowers in his oversize bird cage as Jwi and his men surround him, leering in at him
through the bars, shrieking with maniacal laughter.

“Look at the poor little dove,” Jwi croons, “all alone, no one around to save you…Jwi’s coming
for you, pretty…we’re all coming for you…”

Taehyung stifles a sob, looking around frantically for a weapon of some sort, anything to protect
himself against these monsters but there’s nothing in here with him, nothing at all. He’s completely
naked, completely vulnerable and once they get in here, they’ll be no stopping them, there’s no
escape for him…

Jwi is picking at the lock with a switchblade and Taehyung goes cold as he hears the telltale click
of the lock being undone and it’s the sound of his own undoing. There’s a ferocious grin on Jwi’s
face, his court jester’s smile nearly splitting his face in two as the door swings open and he steps
inside.

“How about it, you little whore?” Jwi rasps. “You ever been fucked with a knife?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to scream but then there’s a rumbling, scraping sound from above, the
building that they’re in starts shaking and crumbling, there’s a screeching, renting noise as the
entire roof is torn right off －

Moonlight pours in and Taehyung gasps as an enormous black dragon looms over them, smoke
curling from its nostrils. With an echoing roar, it surges in, its rage filling the entire building as it
attacks Jwi’s men, fanged mouth pulled back in a snarl. Screams of terror fill the air only to be cut
short as the dragon rips the men into pieces, sending body parts flying all over the place, blood
gushing up in spouts like macabre fountains. Jwi is backing away, trying to flee but the dragon lets
out another earth-shattering roar, leaping over to him, seizing Jwi in his talons and tearing his
head clean off.

And then there’s silence, the floor strewn with dead bodies and stained with blood.

The dragon turns to look at him, the full moon reflected in its black eyes but Taehyung, instead of
feeling afraid, feels relieved. Safe.

He steps out of his cage, going over to the dragon, stretching out his hand to touch the dragon’s
scaly face. “Thank you,” he whispers, placing a soft kiss against a scale. “For saving my life.”
 The dragon regards him with those familiar black eyes and Taehyung feels an echo of recognition,
a reverberation of something strong and deep and everlasting. And it is this feeling, more than the
dragon itself, that scares him.

The dragon lowers itself, its eyes full of dark promise and Taehyung clambers onto the dragon’s
back, straddling its warm scales with his naked thighs. With a running leap, the dragon launches
itself into the sky and together they soar upwards to the moon and stars.

Chapter End Notes

Preview for next week's chapter:

“Tae,” Jimin whispers, “stop looking at him like that.”

“Huh?” Taehyung turns to look at his friend, frowning at him. “Looking at him like
what－”

“Like you’ve got some sort of crush on him! Jesus, Tae, if I didn’t know any better, I’d
think you had some sort of weird thing for him.”

“I…” Taehyung trails off, unsure of what to say.

Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated! (And wow, your
guys' comments for last week's chapter were amazing! Thank you!)

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 Chapter 9
Chapter Summary

"There may be something there that wasn't there before..."

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Yoongi stifles a yawn as he listens to Bogum’s report on the Yong Jegug’s financial situation.

“We’ve got more assets now, thanks to our share of Jwi’s territory,” Bogum says, tapping at the
balance sheets in front of him. “So all in all, I’d say we’re set to have a pretty good year. Despite,
um, you know…”

Bogum goes quiet and the rest of the members of the inner circle shift uncomfortably. Still a
touchy subject, it seems, the way Jungkook had become the leader of their organization. A leader
who has not been here for the past week and has shifted all of his responsibilities onto Yoongi.
He’s still not sure if it’s a punishment or a gesture of reconciliation on Jungkook’s part.

“Well, that’s good, I suppose,” Yoongi says finally. He turns to Namjoon. “Did we get any updates
from that source we found in South America? About where he might be?”

“I sent a message to him just last night, still waiting for a reply. He still might be narrowing down
the exact location. I’m expecting him to try and get more money out of us before he actually tells
us where he is.”

“If he does ask, tell him no, that he doesn’t get the rest of his payment until he can tell us the exact
location with actual proof that he’s there.”

Namjoon nods, looking away from him. “Understood.”

There’s a very pregnant pause and no one seems to be willing to meet Yoongi’s eye. Bogum stares
down at the papers in front of him, shuffling them around and Seojoon is apparently fascinated by
the view outside Namjoon’s window. They’ve been having the meetings at his apartment instead
of Yoongi’s because Yoongi doesn’t want Jimin to overhear him discussing mob business. And he
especially doesn’t want his lover to hear him talking about the search for him.

Not one of the other members of the inner circle ever says his name in front of Yoongi. Whether
it’s out of fear or courtesy, Yoongi doesn’t know. And they don’t call him ‘boss’ either, even if
Jungkook has appointed him the temporary leader of the Yong Jegug. They’re smart enough to
know that it’s only temporary and Yoongi wouldn’t want anyone to call him that anyway.

He makes himself focus on the meeting again, even though he’d much rather be with Jimin right
now. He hopes that one day he can leave this all behind and just start a life with Jimin, a real life in
a different city somewhere, hell, maybe even a different country. Where Jimin can go to college,
like he’s always talked about doing and study dance or theatre, something artistic while Yoongi
gets a job in a hardware store or as a mechanic, something simple, something normal. Whatever the
fuck that is.
They’re just going over the new drug shipment that’s coming in when the door opens and
Jungkook walks in. Everyone goes quiet as he comes up to the table they’re all sitting at and drops
into a chair, heaving a sigh. He looks dully at the balance sheets sitting in front of Bogum, then
glances back at the door as if he’s contemplating just getting up and walking out again. But instead
he straightens up, adjusting the collar of his jacket.

“So,” he says quietly, “what’s our situation?”

One by one, they fill Jungkook in on the status of the Yong Jegug, all the various moving parts of
their organization. No one bothers to say ‘welcome back, boss’ or asks if Jungkook is back for
good. There’s no need.

***

Jungkook knocks softly on the door to Taehyung’s art studio, only entering when Taehyung calls
“come in!”

He opens the door to find Taehyung in his usual spot: standing by his easel, dressed in an oversized
tee shirt and sweatpants, paintbrush in hand. Taehyung glances over at him, giving him a shy
smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Jungkook goes up to stand beside him, checking out the painting. “You’ve been in here all
day?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, dabbing his paintbrush against the canvas. “I think this one’s almost done.
I just need to add some more stars.”

It’s been just over a week since Jungkook gave Taehyung the art studio and he’s been working in it
every day, producing painting after incredible painting as if he’s possessed by some sort of art
demon. Or maybe he was still pissed off about the banana in the art gallery and that was what
motivated him－striving to create real art. Either way, the pieces he’s creating are truly
mindblowing and Jungkook can’t help but wonder what they might go for if Taehyung was to have
his own art show.

Although he’ll admit that the first piece Taehyung had painted was a bit disturbing－it depicted a
dove, lying dead on the floor of its silver cage, small wings askew. It only took one glance to know
the entire story: the dove had broken its wings on the bars of its cage, desperate for freedom. His
second painting was less grim, although there was still a certain sadness to it that was hard to
define: it showed a tiger cub and a frail-looking bluebird lying nestled together, the tiger cub’s
body curled protectively around the bird’s body, as if shielding it from something. But the bluebird
seemed so fragile and small, its turquoise feathers scattered around the ground in little tufts. When
Jungkook looked at it, he felt as if he was witnessing the end of something.

Thankfully, Taehyung’s next couple of paintings were more cheerful; in one of them he had simply
covered a canvas with what looked like every type of flower known to man, painted petals
blooming with vivid colour. The one after that was another landscape, a beach scene painted at
night, just like the one he had done in watercolor all those weeks ago.

He gazes at the painting Taehyung is working on now, feeling something akin to enchantment as
he takes it in. It shows an enormous black dragon flying over swirls of moonlit clouds, a naked
man straddling its broad back. A bright white moon hangs over the scene, picking out the pair in
highlights of silver and, although it’s hard to know for sure, Jungkook is almost certain that the
naked man riding the dragon is Taehyung himself. As for the dragon…well, he doesn’t want to
read too much into it.

But he thinks it might be his personal favorite of the paintings Taehyung has done so far.

“It’s incredible,” he murmurs, still looking at the painting. “Truly a masterpiece.”

Taehyung snorts. “You say that about every painting I do.”

“That’s because they’re all masterpieces. I’m not flattering you, Taehyung, I’m simply stating
facts.”

Taehyung shakes his head, looking embarrassed but pleased. “I don’t think you’re being very
objective but I suppose I’ll take the compliment.”

“Good.” Jungkook reaches up and rubs a hand over Taehyung’s back, gratified that Taehyung
allows the touch. “You hungry?”

“A little bit, I guess,” Taehyung says, keeping his eyes fixed on the painting. “I don’t think I’ve
eaten since lunch.”

“I’ll get us some food made.”

Taehyung nods and Jungkook heads toward the door, taking out his phone to call his personal chef
when Taehyung calls him back.

“Um…can I ask you something?” His voice sounds hesitant, nervous.

Jungkook glances back at him, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure.”

Taehyung bites his lip, his gaze flicking over Jungkook’s body. “Can I…I mean, would it be okay
if I sketch you?” he blurts out.

Jungkook stares at him. “You want to sketch me?”

“Uh, yeah.” Taehyung blushes, looking down at his feet. “I want to get better at drawing people.
I’ve already tried with Jimin but he fidgets way too much, he won’t sit still.” He looks back up at
Jungkook, the hint of a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m thinking that you, being a hardened
criminal and all, would be up for the challenge of sitting still.”

“Oh, you think so, do you?” Jungkook purrs and Taehyung’s smile falters, the blush on his face
deepening. “All right, fine, I can sit still for you. But we’re having some dinner first.”

After they eat, Taehyung gets out a sketchpad and a pencil but instead of asking Jungkook to sit in
his art studio, he merely requests that they sit on the sofa in the living room instead, Jungkook on
one end, Taehyung on the other.

“It’s more comfortable,” Taehyung says when Jungkook asks him about this. “For me and for
you.”

“You want me to pose nude?” Jungkook asks, smirking at him but Taehyung shakes his head, not
meeting his eye.

“No, no need for that,” he says hastily, busying himself with turning to a fresh page in his
sketchpad. “And you can wipe that smirk off your face. I know what you’re trying to do.”

“Oh? What is it I’m trying to do?”

“Never mind. Just shut up, sit still, and keep your face relaxed.”

Jungkook obeys and they sit in silence for a while as Taehyung scratches his pencil over the paper,
moving it in rough, broad strokes. He has Jungkook sit in a fairly relaxed pose so it’s not too hard to
sit still, Taehyung asking him occasionally to turn his head this way or that way. Taehyung has
instructed him to keep his face turned in three-quarter profile to him so Jungkook isn’t looking
directly at him but he can’t help sneaking occasional sidelong glances at Taehyung, noting the way
his brow is slightly furrowed, how he pokes his tongue into his cheek as he draws.

Twenty minutes in, Taehyung makes a tsking noise, rubbing at his sketchpad with an eraser. “It’d
be way easier to draw people if they didn’t have noses,” he grumbles.

“Are you saying I have a weird nose?”

“No, I’m just saying it’d be easier to draw your face if you didn’t have a nose.” He puts the eraser
down, picking up his pencil again. “Even back when I used to paint all the time, I almost never
painted portraits. I usually stuck to animals and flowers and stuff like that. And then I had to stop,
so it’s like learning how to do it all over again.”

Jungkook glances at him. “Why’d you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Why’d you stop painting?”

“Oh.” Taehyung looks up at him and then back down at his sketchpad. “I had to drop out of school
when I was fifteen because I needed to get a job to support myself. So it didn’t really leave me any
time for art. Oh, that reminds me,” he adds, “I booked an appointment at the testing center next
week to finally get my GED.”

“That’s good.” But what Taehyung has just said is still nagging at him and, even though he knows
he should just leave it alone, Jungkook can’t help asking another question. “Why’d you have to
drop out in the first place though? Why would you have to support yourself at that age?”

The pencil stills on the sketchpad and Taehyung goes quiet for a few seconds, gazing down at the
paper. “I was kinda left on my own,” he says finally, not looking at him. “So I didn’t really have a
choice, I guess.”

It’s then Jungkook remembers the day Taehyung had requested to be taken to the cemetery, how he
had found him curled under the covers later that night with tears streaming down his face and
something heavy settles in the pit of his stomach. “But you must have had friends, family－”

“Nope,” Taehyung says, his pencil moving again, concentrating on his sketch. “Just me.”

Just me. Jungkook turns over the implications in his mind of a fifteen-year-old kid left to fend for
himself in Seoul, a high school dropout with no qualifications, no support. He can’t quite grasp the
full meaning of it though; Jungkook had always had money, never had to work just in order to
survive, to put food on the table. He had always had the best of everything, designer clothes and
expensive cars, practically anything he wanted could be provided for him with a mere snap of his
finger. He can’t quite wrap his mind around Taehyung having to sacrifice his own education, his
love of art, just to keep himself alive. And fifteen was so young to be left on your own…

“You worked in a coffee shop, right?” Jungkook asks, remembering what Hoseok had told him the
night of Taehyung’s auction.

“Yep,” Taehyung replies, scratching out some more lines on the paper. “Lived there for a while
too, actually.”

“...lived there?”

“Well, yeah,” Taehyung says casually, “rent being what it is in this city, I couldn’t really afford a
place of my own. But it was okay, the owner of the shop was really nice and he gave me a cot to
sleep on in the back room.”

Jungkook goes very still, Taehyung’s words smashing into him like a sledgehammer.

A cot. To sleep on. In the back room.

There seems to be a high-pitched ringing in his ears as a flood of images crashes through his mind
of Taehyung all alone, sleeping on some cheap metal cot with a thin mattress for a bed, tucked
away in some tiny back room with shelves piled high with coffee grounds and paper cups. No
friends. No family. No home to speak of.

Just me.

And too many things are starting to make sense now. How Taehyung had bargained for more
money when Jungkook had first roped him into an exclusivity contract, his reluctance to spend any
of the money Jungkook deposited in his bank account, even though he had almost two hundred
grand by now. And how he always curled into a tight little ball as he slept, before he had allowed
Jungkook to hold him in his arms during the night…

Your bed’s nice and roomy…my cot was too small for me…

Oh god. And he had once had the audacity to think Taehyung was greedy, selfish, nothing but a
gold digger on the hunt for a sugar daddy. When all Taehyung had been doing was trying to
survive. To ensure that he had some sort of security, the type of security Jungkook had always
enjoyed and taken for granted.

“And then the owner died, unfortunately,” Taehyung says now, still concentrating on his sketch.
“It was so sad, he was such a sweet man. And so his son kicked me out of the shop－”

“He kicked you out?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says absently, scribbling hard on the sketchpad. “Seemed to have the idea that I
had been mooching off his father so he told me to leave, that I wasn’t welcome there anymore.” He
clears his throat. “In so many words. I did find work at a Starbucks eventually but I had been
staying in a homeless shelter when Hobi found me.” There’s a tiny splintering noise. “Shit, I broke
my pencil…”

A homeless shelter. Staying in a fucking homeless shelter.

Deep, abysmal shame washes over Jungkook as he imagines Taehyung asleep in a homeless
shelter, nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. No wonder he had agreed to Hoseok’s offer of
auctioning off his virginity.

And while Taehyung had been fighting for his survival all alone since the age of fifteen, Jungkook
had been…what? Just what the fuck had he been doing? Executing rival gang members, going to
the Bird Cage, partying his youth away, burning money on whores, liquor, designer clothes,
tricked-out cars. Coasting on a veritable sea of cash his entire life, drunk on power, getting his way
by throwing money at people. He remembers one time he had ended up buying a whole entire bar
on his twenty-first birthday and proceeded to get shitfaced and he, along with the other celebrants,
had gone on to smash all the glasses and bottles in the place, laying waste to everything, just for the
hell of it. Just because he could. He may as well have celebrated his birthday by lighting an entire
pile of money on fire and having a marshmallow roast.

When that money could have been used to buy Taehyung an apartment of his own, allow him to go
to school.

Jungkook gnaws at his lower lip. Why hadn’t he been out looking for Taehyung instead of wasting
his time on all that meaningless shit? Why hadn’t he been trying to find him so that he could get
him out of the back room of the coffee shop or out of that fucking homeless shelter and actually
provide for him?

A tiny voice whispers that it isn’t entirely his fault, he hadn’t known about Taehyung back then,
hadn’t even been aware of his existence. How could he have known? But Jungkook brushes the
excuse away impatiently. Because it doesn’t matter if he hadn’t known, he still should have been
dedicating all his time and resources to looking for Taehyung, to finding the missing piece of him
－

“Hey,” Taehyung says and Jungkook startles out of his reverie when he feels Taehyung nudge him
with his foot. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Jungkook takes Taehyung’s foot in his hands and starts to massage it, kneading it lightly.
“I’m fine.” But there’s a tightness in his chest now, a rising lump in his throat.

Then Taehyung jerks, trying to pull his foot away. “D-don’t,” he gasps, “that tickles－”

“Seriously?” Jungkook smirks, his dark mood dissipating as he rubs the tips of his fingers along
the sole of Taehyung’s foot. “You’re ticklish?”

“Oh my god, stop－” A giggle slips out of Taehyung’s mouth as he makes another desperate bid to
yank his foot out of Jungkook’s grasp. “You’re such a j-jerk－”

“Where else are you ticklish, hmm?” Jungkook grabs Taehyung by the ankles and hauls him
towards him so he’s lying flat on the sofa. He scrambles on top of him, digging his fingers into his
sides. “Here, baby? You ticklish here, too?”

“S-stop!” Taehyung squirms underneath him, convulsing with laughter, trying to get away. “I’m
going to p-punch you in the d-dick, I s-swear to g-god－”

“Ticklish little tiger, huh?” Jungkook teases, not letting up as Taehyung flails around helplessly,
“I’m not gonna stop till you start purring, baby－”

Taehyung squeals, pushing against Jungkook’s chest and they go crashing down onto the floor
beside the couch. Taehyung lands on top of him, straddling his hips, staring down at him with a
triumphant gleam in his eyes.

“Tigers don’t purr, you asshole,” he says breathlessly, his chest heaving for air.

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“Nature documentary I watched on YouTube.”

“Oh?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow, running his hands over Taehyung’s thighs as he lays flat on his
back, gazing up at him. “So what kind of noises do tigers make?”

“They…” Taehyung trails off as Jungkook’s hands roam over his thighs, reaching one hand around
to squeeze his ass. “They…”

“What kind of noises, Tae?” Jungkook rasps, feeling himself get hard. “Tell me.”

Taehyung answers with a quiet moan as he grinds down against Jungkook’s erection, rocking his
hips back and forth. His eyes flutter closed, a pink blush staining his cheeks as he moves, so like
when he’s riding Jungkook’s cock for real instead of just grinding on it.

These past few nights, Jungkook hasn’t pushed Taehyung for sex, instead allowing Taehyung to
come to him and most nights, he does, always in the same way. Cuddling close like he does every
night now but allowing his hands to wander over Jungkook’s chest, moving down his body to take
Jungkook’s cock in his mouth before climbing astride him and riding the fuck out of him. It’s
blissful, feeling like an erotic dream every time but Jungkook can’t tell if Taehyung does it out of
genuine desire or because he craves some sort of distraction, just wanting pure release. It’s a bit
ironic that he’s left wondering if Taehyung has now started using his body instead of the other way
around. He doesn’t mind, though, not really. If sex is a part of Taehyung’s healing process,
Jungkook will gladly provide it for him. He figures it’s the least he can do. But he’s discovered that
he wants something even more intimate with Taehyung, not just stolen moments in the darkness,
not just mindless gratification. He doesn’t have a name for what he wants with Taehyung, all he
knows is that he wants more with him. He wants so much more.

But he’s not sure if he deserves it.

Taehyung rocks his hips faster, his breath coming out in little puffs as he grinds his erection against
Jungkook’s. He whines, fisting his hands in Jungkook’s shirt, head thrown back as he moves on top
of him. It’s not very comfortable, lying flat on his back on the hardwood floor but Jungkook grips
Taehyung’s hips, helping him.

“It’s okay, baby, go ahead,” he breathes, “you can come if you want to, come on…”

Taehyung’s eyes fly open and he stops moving, his gaze heated and simmering with lust as he
stares down at Jungkook. Then he abruptly gets off of him, standing up and heading towards the
bedroom, glancing back at Jungkook before he disappears inside. Curious and more than a little
intrigued, Jungkook gets up and follows him, his cock still painfully hard.

When he steps inside the darkened bedroom, his breath catches in his throat. Dim light shining in
through the window reveals Taehyung on the bed, positioned on his hands and knees, facing away
from him. He’s taken his tee shirt off and pushed his sweatpants down to his knees, his gorgeous,
round ass bared to him. He peeks at Jungkook over his shoulder, blinking owlishly at him.

“Come on,” he pleads. “Jungkook, come on…”

Jungkook climbs onto the bed behind him, his heart racing in his chest, seeing that Taehyung has
already gotten the bottle of lube out. “You don’t want to get on top?”

“No,” Taehyung whispers, shaking his head. “I want it like this.” He backs up into Jungkook,
deliberately rubbing his ass against Jungkook’s crotch in slow, erotic circles. “Fuck me like this.”

Jungkook groans, his eyes rolling back in his head as he feels Taehyung’s luscious ass rubbing
against his dick. “Fuck, baby…”

“Come on…hurry…”

When Jungkook slips inside Taehyung after thoroughly stretching him open, he starts slow,
restraining himself from pounding into him from the get-go but Taehyung pushes back against him,
begging him to fuck him harder, faster, please, Jungkook. So Jungkook takes him roughly, hands
digging into Taehyung’s hips in a bruising grip, fucking him the way he used to fuck him, when he
used to make Taehyung wait in the bedroom for him, ass up on the bed, decked out in lingerie.

He hates himself for it, doesn’t want it like this anymore. He wants Taehyung facing him, looking
into his eyes so he can watch the pleasure flicker over his face. He doesn’t want Taehyung on all
fours like some sort of animal, like he’s some sort of toy for Jungkook to use. He wants to go slow,
take his time, worship Taehyung with his hands, his mouth, wants to feel that same sense of
connection he had felt the night they had sex at the mansion.

But Taehyung has asked him for this, begged him for it and he finds he can’t refuse him. Not when
he’s crying out Jungkook’s name over and over, moaning out how good his cock feels, how he’s so
close, he’s so fucking close…

When they both come, Jungkook can’t help but remember that this is all he wanted from Taehyung
at first－Taehyung begging and moaning for his cock, pleading for Jungkook to fuck him, the
once-defiant Taehyung made over into his perfect little whore. And now that he’s witnessed it, it
leaves him feeling sick to his stomach even as he comes down from the high of his orgasm.

Once they’re cleaned up, Taehyung snuggles beside Jungkook, resting his head on his shoulder. At
least there’s this, Jungkook thinks, stroking a hand down Taehyung’s back. At least Taehyung
allows Jungkook to hold him afterward and falls asleep in his arms. He doesn’t seem to have as
many nightmares anymore and he stretches out beside Jungkook instead of curling himself into that
tight little ball.

His jaw clenches as he remembers what Taehyung had told him earlier, about having to sleep, for
years on end, in the back room of a coffee shop on a cot that was too fucking small for him. Until
the coffee shop owner’s asshole son had kicked him out and he was forced to reside in a homeless
shelter.

“Hey, Tae?”

“Mmm?” Taehyung sighs, squeezing Jungkook’s waist. “What is it?”

“That guy who made you leave the coffee shop. What was his name?”

“His name?” Taehyung says sleepily. “Yujin.” He yawns widely, rubbing his cheek against
Jungkook’s shoulder. “Lee Yujin.”
 ***

Yoongi steps into the coffee shop, looking around. It’s a nice little place, with a chalkboard menu
displayed on the wall and small cozy table settings scattered around. There’s even a small
makeshift stage along one wall where Yoongi assumes they have open-mic nights. It’s mid-
afternoon so there’s only a few people in the place right now, a couple of teenage girls with mugs
of tea, giggling about something on their phones, and an elderly man reading a newspaper. Which
is good. Fewer witnesses means fewer complications.

He steps up to the counter where a young man is busy cleaning the espresso machine.

“Uh, hi,” the guy says as Yoongi approaches, frowning at Yoongi’s ‘ninja’ mask. “Can I help
you?”

“Yeah, are you Lee Yujin?”

“Um…yeah.” He scratches nervously at the back of his neck, his eyes darting around the shop.
Yoongi thinks he looks a bit jittery and he doesn’t think it’s because the guy has had too much
coffee. “Sorry, but why are you－”

“Can you step outside with me for a minute?” When Yujin hesitates, Yoongi steps back, jerking his
head towards the door. “Won’t take long. I just need to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Um…okay…” Looking extremely dubious, Yujin follows Yoongi outside onto the sidewalk. He
stops short when he sees Jungkook standing next to the curb, wearing his own ninja mask, a
sledgehammer slung casually over his shoulder.

“Is this your car?” Yoongi says, indicating the junky-looking Volvo Jungkook is standing next to.

Yujin eyes the sledgehammer that Jungkook is holding and nods mutely.

“Cool.” Yoongi turns to Jungkook. “Okay, boss, have at it.”

Jungkook gives Yujin a cold look and then hefts the sledgehammer in his hands, bringing it
swinging down in a wide arc, breaking one of the Volvo’s headlights. Then he brings the hammer
up again and smashes out the other one.

“Hey!” Yujin protests, stepping forward. “What are you doing, that’s my car－”

“I wouldn’t get in his way, if I were you,” Yoongi says, placing a restraining hand on Yujin’s
shoulder. “Don’t take it personally, kid, he’s just getting some aggression out.”

“But…” Yujin looks on helplessly as Jungkook proceeds to walk around the car, smashing out
every single window, sending glass tinkling onto the ground, swinging the hammer into the body
of the car, leaving enormous dents. A few people out walking on the sidewalk look around
curiously, stopping in their tracks as they watch Jungkook wield the sledgehammer and cars slow
down as they pass, the people inside staring wide-eyed out of their windows but no one actually
tries to stop Jungkook or even comes over to demand what’s going on. Yoongi has found that if
you do something out of the ordinary in broad daylight, most people don’t actually question it all
that much. Because if you do something like this in the middle of the day where people can witness
it, bystanders seem to think that it must be allowed for some reason. That, and most people don’t
want to get involved in something that’s none of their business, potentially put themselves in
harm’s way. It’s a strange little quirk of human nature but it usually tends to work in their favor.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Yoongi says, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“You’re not going to go to the police about this because, frankly, they won’t do anything about it
anyways. But this should cover the cost of a new car. A nicer one, actually, than this piece of shit
you’ve been driving.” He hands Yujin a check. “So, really, we’re doing you a favor.”

“Um…okay…” Yujin looks down at the check Yoongi has just handed him, his eyebrows shooting
up.

“And you’ve got siblings right? A few brothers and sisters?”

“Yeah…two brothers, three sisters.”

“Well, here’s a little something extra,” Yoongi says, raising his voice over the sound of Jungkook
destroying Yujin’s car, handing him another check. “To ensure you all have a nice Christmas. I
believe that’s enough for a few nice Christmases, in fact.”

Yujin gapes down at the check Yoongi has just handed him and then looks up at Jungkook again
who has now climbed on the hood of the Volvo and is smashing in the windshield, swearing at the
top of his lungs.

“Fucking son of a fucking BITCH!” Jungkook screams. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”

“Uh…sorry, but what the hell is this about? Like, don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the money and
everything but…what the hell is his problem?”

“Like I said, it’s nothing personal,” Yoongi says, watching Jungkook knock off one of the side
mirrors, sending it flying into the air. “I don’t think you’re the one he’s really mad at.”

Once Jungkook has finished smashing the shit out of Yujin’s car and Yujin has retreated back
inside the relative safety of the coffee shop, Yoongi goes up to Jungkook, surveying the wrecked
Volvo.

“Feel better?”

Jungkook sighs, leaning against the sledgehammer and wiping at the sweat beading on his
forehead. “Not really.”

“Well, at least you got some exercise out of it. Maybe smashing up cars with a sledgehammer
should be a part of your new workout routine.”

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle up at the corners for a brief second and Yoongi could swear that he’s
smiling underneath the mask. “I think I’ll stick to lifting weights.”

Jungkook returns to the penthouse with Yoongi, his arms aching, his back stiff but at least he had
managed to teach that Yujin fucker a lesson. Hopefully, anyways. Yoongi had been the one to
suggest they pay him off and Jungkook hadn’t been very happy with that idea but Yoongi had only
argued that it would simplify things, make it easier to keep Yujin quiet. So in the end Jungkook had
agreed, even though it didn’t feel right to reward the fucking asshole that had forced Taehyung out
onto the streets. But, then again, his reasons for wanting to destroy Yujin’s car weren’t really that
selfless in the first place. He had only been trying to absolve himself of some of the guilt he was
feeling about Taehyung having to fend for himself at such a young age, while Jungkook had been
living in the lap of luxury.

It had been cathartic in a way, even if the guilt still lingers. And it did make for a good workout, as
Yoongi had said, judging from the soreness of his muscles.

When they get inside the penthouse, it’s to find Taehyung and Jimin sitting on the sofa together,
chatting animatedly about something. They look around as Jungkook and Yoongi come in and
Taehyung gives him a small smile, one that makes Jungkook’s heart stutter in his chest. He hadn’t
told Taehyung what he had gone out to do and decides that it’s best if he keeps it to himself.
Because he’s not sure if Taehyung would be pleased or horrified to know what he did.

“What’s that?” he asks, nodding at the piece of paper Taehyung is holding in his hands.

“My exam results,” Taehyung says shyly, showing the paper to him. “I passed. I got my GED.”

“Passed with flying colors, I might add,” Jimin declares, throwing his arms around Taehyung and
giving him a squeeze. “Just like I said you would. I’m so proud of you, TaeTae.”

Jungkook feels a warm glow of pride as he glances over Taehyung’s exam results.
“Congratulations,” Jungkook says quietly, looking up at him and Taehyung blushes. “We should
－” He had been about to say, “We should celebrate,” but Jimin beats him to it.

“We need to celebrate!” he exclaims, clapping his hands excitedly. “Let’s go to the movie theater
tonight, just the two of us, my treat. I promised I would take you there, remember?”

“Okay, that sounds－”

But Jungkook interrupts, his hand tightening on the paper. “No, not just the two of you,” he says
firmly. “Not without a guard.”

Jimin’s mouth falls open and he glares at Jungkook. “Are you fucking kidding me? You won’t
even let him go to the fucking movie theater without a bodyguard? God, you are such a controlling
son of a－”

“Jimin, it’s fine,” Taehyung mutters. “I don’t care.”

“Oh, really? Well, you should care, Tae, considering how well you were protected the last time
you went out somewhere. Because I don’t remember Jungkook or any of his guards being very
fucking good at it.”

There’s a very awkward silence and Jungkook notices Taehyung rub self-consciously at the small
scars on his neck. The scars he had gotten that night Jungkook had failed him so completely.
Seeing them threatens to plunge him into those dark memories but it also serves to cement his
resolve.

“Jimin, it’s not up to you,” Jungkook says coldly. “No guard, no movie.”

Jimin opens his mouth to argue but Taehyung places a hand on his arm, shaking his head. “Jimin,
it’s fine, really, I don’t mind if Jin comes with us－”
“It won’t be Jin going with you,” Jungkook says. “It’ll be me.”

“Oh.” Taehyung gives him a startled look but then glances away, fidgeting with the sleeve of his
sweater. “That’s fine, too, I suppose.”

“It’s really not,” Jimin says, giving Jungkook a disgusted look. “But whatever, I don’t feel like
arguing.” He heaves a sigh and pulls out his phone. “Now let’s see what’s playing at the theater…”

Taehyung waits with Jimin in the lobby of the movie theater while Jungkook and Yoongi stand in
line for popcorn and drinks. Because Jimin had insisted that if Jungkook and Yoongi were going to
escort them to the theater, then they would be paying for all of their food and for their own tickets
－Jimin was only treating Taehyung, this was supposed to be their night out after all.

But Taehyung had noticed that Jimin hadn’t kicked up too much of a fuss when Yoongi had
decided to come along too.

“I suppose we could have gone out for dinner instead,” Jimin grumbles, scowling over at
Jungkook. “But I’m sure Mr. Boss Man would have insisted on coming with us no matter where
we went.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Taehyung says, looking around the theater, taking it in. He’s never been inside
one before, could never afford a night out at the movies. “It’s nice to get out, at least.”

“We should have snuck out,” Jimin says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Or just asked Yoongi to
come, there’s no reason for him to be here…”

Taehyung tunes him out as his eyes fall on Jungkook, standing at the counter now with Yoongi and
ordering their food. The crime boss seems a bit out of place here in the theater, dressed in his usual
designer black suit and tailored black shirt, while everyone else around him is in casual wear, jeans
and winter jackets, sneakers and toques. Yoongi is in a suit too and the two of them look way too
formal for a night out at the movies. It’s almost like playing a very easy game of Spot the Mob
Members.

But Jungkook looks completely at ease as he stands there at the counter, hands in his pockets and
Taehyung can just imagine him placing their order with the same intimidating tone he uses to boss
around his minions.

“You’re going to give me four bags of popcorn with extra butter and you’re going to give them to
me now. And you’re also going to hand over some Milk Duds and some Peanut M&Ms, just like we
agreed. And I swear to fucking god, if you even think about giving me Diet Coke instead of regular
Coke, I’ll slice you open and pour your blood into the soda fountain, understand?”

The ridiculous thought makes him smile and he has to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing.
It’s then that Jungkook glances over at him, cocking an eyebrow at him, a slight smirk on his face
and Taehyung feels his face heat and he suddenly becomes fascinated with the pattern of the
lobby’s popcorn-strewn carpet.
Jungkook and Yoongi head over to them carrying all of their snacks on little cardboard trays and
Jungkook hands Taehyung a bag of popcorn and a box of candy.

“You wanted Coke, right?” he says, passing Taehyung a huge plastic cup.

“Yes, thank you. Although you didn’t have to get me such a big drink. If I have all of this, I’ll be
getting up to pee every five minutes.”

Jungkook chuckles. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

Taehyung’s heat skips a beat. Next time…?

“Come on,” Jimin says impatiently. “We still need to go get our seats.”

The four of them troop into one of the auditoriums, Jungkook walking right next to him, his hand
on Taehyung’s lower back, guiding him along. He feels a swooping sensation in his stomach at
such a casual, intimate touch and his mind starts racing.

Is he going to sit beside me? Is he going to try to hold my hand? Should I let him? Oh my god, is
this a date? Are we on a date right now? Does this count? He said he was just coming as my
bodyguard for the night but are we on an actual DATE? Do I want it to be a date? Oh my god, oh
my god, oh my god…

But Jimin solves this dilemma for him as they climb the stairs to some seats at the very top. “I
think here’s good, Tae, what do you think?”

“Yeah, sure, looks good to me.”

But when Jungkook and Yoongi go to follow them, Jimin stops them. “What the fuck do you think
you’re doing?”

“Uh,” Yoongi says. “We…”

“You’re not sitting with us!” Jimin snaps, glaring at Jungkook. “This is supposed to be me and
Tae’s night out, we didn’t ask for a fucking bodyguard contingent. Go sit somewhere else.” His
face softens as he glances at Yoongi. “Sorry, honey, I wouldn’t mind you sitting with us but this is
supposed to me and Tae’s celebration so…”

Jungkook’s jaw tightens as he glances between them and Taehyung opens his mouth to say to
Jimin that he really doesn’t mind if Yoongi and Jungkook sit with them－

“Look, there’s a couple of seats a few of rows down,” Jimin says, waving his hand impatiently.
“You can go sit there and keep an eye out for any would-be assassins.”

“Come on,” Yoongi mutters, placing his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Let’s just go sit down
there. Jimin’s right, it’s their night out…”

Jungkook gives Jimin one last reproachful look but turns and follows Yoongi down to a pair of
seats a couple of rows in front of them. He glances up at Taehyung, giving him a small nod before
taking his seat and facing the screen.

Jimin and Taehyung sit down in their own seats, shucking off their coats as the movie theater
begins to fill up with more people.

“I really don’t mind if they sit with us, Jimin－”

“Well, I do,” Jimin says shortly. “We didn’t ask them to tag along, this is supposed to be our night
out, to celebrate you getting your GED.” He opens up the bag of licorice Yoongi had bought for
him, offering Taehyung a piece. “Wouldn’t be much of a celebration if you had to suffer in that
asshole’s presence, now would it?”

Taehyung takes the piece of licorice and chews on it, not saying anything.

Jimin wiggles in his seat, Jungkook apparently forgotten as the previews start to play. “This should
be good,” he whispers. “I’m really excited for this movie. And it’s your first time seeing anything
on the big screen, you’ll love it.”

Taehyung nods but he finds his gaze going to where Jungkook is sitting instead of focusing on the
preview for the new superhero movie that’s playing on the screen right now. He can only see the
back of his head and watches as Jungkook tosses a piece of popcorn up into the air and catches it in
his mouth. The sight is so endearing that he can’t help from smiling, a sort of glowing warmth
igniting in his chest.

“Tae,” Jimin whispers, “stop looking at him like that.”

“Huh?” Taehyung turns to look at his friend, frowning at him. “Looking at him like what－”

“Like you’ve got some sort of crush on him!” Somebody shushes him and Jimin lowers his voice,
leaning in close. “Jesus, Tae, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you had some sort of weird thing
for him.”

“I…” Taehyung trails off, unsure of what to say.

“Oh my god.” Jimin sounds horrified. “You do have some sort of weird thing for him! You’ve
gone full Stockholm Syndrome!”

“No, I haven’t!” Taehyung insists. He glances back to where Jungkook is sitting. “I don’t know
how to explain it, Jimin, but…he’s different now. He’s changed－”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jimin whisper-shouts. “He is the leader of the fucking Yong
Jegug, he’s killed people, Tae. He’s a monster－”

“Well, what about Yoongi?” Taehyung retorts. “You honestly think he’s a model citizen?”

Jimin pauses and even in the darkness of the theater, Taehyung can see the blush rising on his
cheeks. “Yoongi’s different,” he says finally. “He’s nothing like Jungkook, he’s a good man who
was forced into the mob, it’s not like he had a choice－”

“Well, what if it’s the same for Jungkook?” Taehyung says, remembering what Jungkook had once
told him about his ‘initiation.’ “What if he didn’t have a choice either? I think you’re being a bit
hypocritical, Jimin－”

“Okay, fine, maybe he didn’t have a choice either,” Jimin concedes. “But he chooses how he lives
now, how he treats people. Same with Yoongi. And Yoongi treated me with kindness and respect
from day one. He never once degraded me or made me feel like an object, not even when I was
still at the Bird Cage.” He narrows his eyes at Taehyung, his expression defiant. “Can you honestly
say the same about Jungkook?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to argue but then closes it again, looking away. The night he had lost
his virginity to Jungkook comes back to him, how Jungkook had treated him, objectified him,
called him every degrading name under the sun.
 Bitch. Whore. Slut.

It’s hard to think about now, he doesn’t want to remember how that night had unfolded because the
Jungkook that had taken his virginity seems like an entirely different person from the Jungkook he
knows now.

“Your silence speaks volumes,” Jimin huffs. “I don’t care how ‘nice’ you think he is to you now.
He sees you as his property, Tae, not as a person. You said he was still paying you every week,
right?”

Taehyung looks down at his hands and nods.

“I rest my case. Yoongi isn’t paying me to be in a relationship with him.”

Taehyung shifts uncomfortably in his seat, feeling his heart sink. Was Jimin right? Did Jungkook
still see him as his whore? Maybe the dynamic between them had changed but perhaps that was the
only relationship Jungkook really wanted from him. Just some convenient sex with some pleasant
companionship on the side. Nothing more than that, nothing deeper. But then why had Jungkook
transformed an entire room in his penthouse into an art studio for him? Why did he only wait for
Taehyung to initiate sex between them now instead of demanding it under his own terms?

But, then again, Jungkook hadn’t said anything about terminating the contract between them. He
still deposited five thousand dollars into Taehyung’s bank account every single Friday.

Yoongi isn’t paying me to be in a relationship with him.

Tears sting his eyes and he swipes at them with his hand, sniffling a little and beside him, he hears
Jimin sigh heavily.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” he says gently, taking Taehyung’s hand in his and giving it a reassuring
squeeze. “I know I sound like I’m being harsh but I just think you deserve better than someone like
him. Someone who treats you right from the beginning and doesn’t feel the need to bind you to
him with a fucking contract.”

The movie starts and they both go quiet, Jimin still holding onto his hand. Taehyung doesn’t really
pay much attention to the story unfolding on the screen, though. His gaze keeps straying to where
he knows Jungkook is sitting, to the man who had gifted him with his very own art studio, the man
who had treated him so cruelly on the night they had first met.

And he doesn’t know how to reconcile the two.

Chapter End Notes

I know the last couple of chapters have been short but I promise Chapter 10 is going to
be a long one - at least as long as Chapter 7, if not longer, so hold tight.

Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)

Preview for next week's chapter:

“What do you like better, the polar bear with the scarf or the silver reindeer?”

“For the last time, Tae, I don’t fucking care. Get whichever one you like. Get both if
you want.”

Jeon Jungkook, leader of the most powerful crime organization in Seoul, is currently
shopping for Christmas decorations. In a Wal-Mart no less.

(A Christmas chapter in a mafia au? It's happening!)

Playlist

Twitter
 Chapter 10
Chapter Summary

Taehyung and Jungkook enjoy a cozy little Christmas together... (and yes I am adding
that Katy Perry song to the playlist, fight me)

Chapter Notes

I already talked about this on Twitter but just in case you don't follow me there, I'm
posting this chapter early because it's super long and because of my changing work
schedule. Also, upcoming chapters will still be posted on Fridays but I'll be posting
them on Friday evenings as opposed to Friday mornings (PST).

Anyways, hope you enjoy the Christmas chapter! :)

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“What do you like better, the polar bear with the scarf or the silver reindeer?”

“For the last time, Tae, I don’t fucking care. Get whichever one you like. Get both if you want.”

Jeon Jungkook, leader of the most powerful crime organization in Seoul, is currently shopping for
Christmas decorations. In a Wal-Mart no less. A nightmare of a place full of middle class people
oohing and aahing over the ‘roll backs’ on things like Star Wars Lego sets and plastic Santa
Clauses. Jungkook doesn’t even know what a fucking roll back is but he’s certain that they don’t
have them at the Shinsegae department store. Which he had suggested in the first place when he
had agreed to take Taehyung shopping for Christmas decorations but Taehyung had insisted they
come here instead.

“Don’t be silly,” he had argued. “There’s no need to spend a ton of money on Christmas
decorations. Besides, Jimin told me he got that cute elf garland at Wal-Mart.”

That ‘cute elf garland’ is currently sitting in the shopping cart Jungkook is leaning against, along
with a stuffed penguin wearing a Santa hat, a set of red and green Christmas mugs, a tube of
multicoloured tree ornaments and a box containing a fake tree for said ornaments to go on.

This is all Park Jimin’s fault. He had invited Taehyung over to Yoongi’s place last week to help
him decorate the apartment and he had enjoyed himself so much, that when Jungkook had gone to
pick him up, Taehyung couldn’t stop smiling, chattering on about how much fun it had been and
how many cute decorations Jimin had. Not wanting to be outdone, especially by Jimin, Jungkook
had suggested that they decorate the penthouse too. Which is why he’s now stuck in a crowded
Wal-Mart a mere week before Christmas, watching Taehyung try and decide between a scarf-
wearing polar bear and a cheap silver reindeer.

He’s never bothered to decorate the penthouse before, never had a reason to string colored lights
along the balcony or put up a tree. But Taehyung has wandered around the store with an eager
smile on his face, even laughing at a dumb sign that said ‘Treat Your Elf.' He’s definitely not as
skittish in public places as he was a few weeks ago, even if he tends to stay close to Jungkook. Not
that Jungkook minds.

Jungkook leans against the handle of the shopping cart, propping his chin on his hand as he
watches Taehyung look between the polar bear and the reindeer, worrying his lower lip between
his teeth. He smiles. Really, despite the crowds of stressed shoppers and the annoying Christmas
music, he supposes he doesn’t have a lot to complain about.

Taehyung holds the decorations over his head. “What do you think, Jin?” he says, calling down the
aisle to where Jin is standing guard, protecting them from belligerent shoppers and small children.
“Reindeer or polar bear?”

“They’re both nice, Taehyung-ssi. It’s up to you.”

“You two are no help whatsoever,” Taehyung grumbles, lowering the ornaments and considering
them again. Finally, he puts the reindeer back on the shelf and the polar bear in the shopping cart.
“Okay, I think that should be good.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook says dryly. “You sure you don’t want to get a couple of those twenty-foot
inflatable snowmen we saw when we came in here? Because if your goal is to decorate my
penthouse with the tackiest decorations ever, then I think those would add the finishing touch.”

“No, I don’t want the twenty-foot snowmen,” Taehyung says loftily. Then he gives Jungkook a
cheeky grin. “They won’t fit in your penthouse.”

When they return to the penthouse, Jungkook asks Taehyung if he wants to decorate the tree right
away but Taehyung shakes his head.

“Maybe not right now…I’d like to get another hour of painting in, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Jungkook carries the box that contains the tree over to the living area, putting it
down near an electrical outlet on the wall. “Maybe I’ll get it set up first and then we can decorate
it together?”

Taehyung nods, giving him a shy smile. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” Then he retreats to his art studio,
closing the door behind him. He’s been more secretive about his art lately, not letting Jungkook
into his studio or showing him any of the things that he’s been working on. He tries not to take it
too personally, even though he burns with curiosity to know what Taehyung is up to in there. All he
knows is that Taehyung seems to be working with a lot of black paint recently, judging by the
flecks of obsidian that dot his hands. But he figures Taehyung will show him when he’s ready.

He gets the tree set up without too much trouble, even though he’s never had to do it before. His
mother had always made sure that the family home was decorated tastefully, in shades of silver and
gold with a twelve-foot Christmas tree standing in the living room. All done by professional
decorators of course; she had never been one to get her hands dirty. Still, it had been her favorite
time of year and there’s a small ache in his chest as Jungkook steps back to make sure the tree isn’t
crooked. He wonders what she might have thought of Taehyung’s elf garland.

After he’s satisfied that the tree is straight, he takes the other decorations out of the plastic
shopping bags and sets them all on the dining table; Taehyung can decide where he wants to put
them. Then he sits on the sofa and waits for Taehyung to come out of his art studio, calling
Namjoon to make sure that the deal with Nam Kang-Dae to purchase a share of one of his night
clubs had gone smoothly. Unlike more ‘legitimate’ business organizations, the Yong Jegug did not
take Christmas holidays.

After another half-an-hour, Taehyung comes out of his art studio and into the living area, surveying
the tree. “Looks good,” he says. “Needs decorations, though.”

“Well, you can do that. I did my job for the night.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Yes, it must have been such an arduous task.” He heads toward the
kitchen. “I’m going to make some hot chocolate first. You want some?”

“Sure. Oh, wait no, I just remembered that I’m not five years old.”

“Fuck you,” Taehyung says, laughing as he takes out the new red and green Christmas mugs.
“You’re never too old for hot chocolate. Jimin and I had some when we were decorating at his
place.”

“Oh, is that what you did after I dropped you off at daycare? Did you guys write letters to Santa
too?”

“You’re such a jerk.” But Taehyung smiles as he pours milk into a mug and puts it in the
microwave. Jungkook gets up and heads into the kitchen, opening up the liquor cabinet.

“Enjoy your cup of liquid sugar, baby. I, on the other hand, am going to have an actual adult
beverage.” He pulls out a bottle of spiced rum and pours himself a glass. “You know, cause I’m an
adult?” He takes a sip, smirking at Taehyung over the rim of his glass.

“Careful. I might get overwhelmed by your rugged masculinity and swoon right here on the spot.”

Jungkook tilts his head, stepping closer. “And here I thought you were always overwhelmed by my
rugged masculinity.”

Taehyung blushes, turning away from him to face the microwave. “Ha! You wish.” And even
though he says it sarcastically, Jungkook can still detect the slight tremor of nervousness in his
voice.

He opens his mouth to tease him some more but it’s then the microwave beeps and Taehyung takes
his mug out, busying himself with stirring in the hot chocolate powder, avoiding Jungkook’s gaze.

It’s a new side of Taehyung that he’s still getting used to, this sudden shyness outside the bedroom.
He’s used to defiant Taehyung, angry Taehyung, even playful, mischievous Taehyung. But
flustered, blushing Taehyung? He’s not sure what to make of it.

He holds out the bottle of rum, nodding at Taehyung’s mug of hot chocolate. “Feel like spiking
your drink? I bet you anything it’ll make it taste better.”

“I seriously doubt it,” Taehyung grumbles but he holds his mug out and allows Jungkook to add a
splash of rum to his hot chocolate. He takes a sip, smacking his lips thoughtfully.

“Well?”

Taehyung shrugs. “It’s okay. Would taste better without the alcohol though.”

“You only think so because you have very unsophisticated tastebuds.”

“You have unsophisticated tastebuds.”

Jungkook smirks, his gaze lowering to Taehyung's lips and his smile fades. Taste…

Taehyung’s lips probably taste like chocolate and rum right now, deliciously warm and sweet, the
alcohol lingering on his tongue. It’s an intriguing theory and Jungkook finds he would give
anything to test it out.

Taehyung sips at his hot chocolate, holding the mug with two hands like a little kid might do. He’s
dressed in one of his oversized sweatshirts, the sleeves flopping over his delicate hands, which are
speckled with black paint again. And it strikes Jungkook in that moment, just how beautiful
Taehyung is.

Taehyung lowers his mug, swiping his tongue over his lower lip, considering him. And for a
second, Jungkook could swear that Taehyung steals a glance at his mouth but then he hastily looks
away and heads for the tree. “Come on, let’s get this decorated,” he says, putting his mug down on
the coffee table and opening up the tube of ornaments. “We don’t have elves to do it for us.”

“I could have someone do it for us, you know,” Jungkook says, following him over to the living
area. “Save us the time and work.”

Taehyung makes a tutting noise. “For fuck’s sake, where’s the fun in that? When you have a
Christmas tree, you are supposed to decorate it yourself, while drinking hot chocolate and listening
to cheesy Christmas music on an old-fashioned radio that only has one working speaker.”

“Oh?” Jungkook smirks at him. “Is that what you would call a Christmas tradition?”

Taehyung takes out one of the ornaments and stares down at it, not meeting his eye. “Something
like that,” he says quietly. He looks back up at him, flashing an overbright smile. “So we should
have music too, don’t you think?”

Jungkook obliges him and finds a station playing ‘All the Holiday Hits’ on his phone and turns on
the speaker, where the opening notes of Katy Perry’s ‘Cozy Little Christmas’ immediately start
pouring out. He winces.

“I didn’t realize one of your Christmas traditions involved torturing your ear drums.”

“Oh, hush. I like this song, it’s catchy.”

Taehyung hums or sometimes sings along to the music as they go about putting the ornaments on,
moving around to decorate the back of the tree as well, even though Jungkook insists this is
pointless because no one will see the back of the fucking tree.

“Santa will know,” Taehyung teases. “And he’ll put us on the naughty list for doing a half-assed
job of decorating.”

“Fuck that. If Santa tries to put either one of us on the naughty list, I’m going to pop a cap in
Santa’s fat ass.”

“Pop a cap in Santa’s ass?” Taehyung bursts out laughing. “You can’t say that! He’ll definitely put
you on the naughty list.”

“Well,” Jungkook says huskily, giving Taehyung a sidelong glance, “maybe I belong on the
naughty list.”

“I would say so.” Taehyung grins at him but then he sees the way Jungkook is looking at him and
he blushes, hastily retreating behind the tree, hiding from him. “This side definitely needs more
ornaments,” he says, a bit too loudly.

Jungkook smirks but stops teasing him and pretty soon the rest of the ornaments are on the tree and
they turn off the rest of the lights in the penthouse, only leaving the tree lit up and they sit on the
couch together to admire their handiwork.

Taehyung snuggles close to him, curling up beside him with his knees to his chest, slipping his feet
underneath Jungkook’s thigh. He does this sometimes when they happen to be sitting on the sofa
together and Jungkook tries to ignore the way it always makes his heart thump erratically in his
chest.

“It looks really pretty,” Taehyung murmurs, gazing at the tree, the lights reflected in his brown
eyes, turning them a warm shade of gold. “This is the first year I’ve decorated a Christmas tree
since I was, let’s see….fourteen, I think?”

“This is my first time decorating a tree ever,” Jungkook says, not even bothering to look at it. He’s
too busy staring at Taehyung. “When I was growing up, we always had staff for that, you know?”

“Hmm. So how would you rate your first Christmas tree decorating experience?”

“Four stars. The company was extremely pleasant but the work itself sucks. I might bump it up to
four and a half stars if we had listened to better music.” There’s still some Christmas music
playing, some cover of ‘Silent Night.’ “Plus, my back is sore. I’m probably going to need a
massage later.”

“You should go see a masseuse then.” Taehyung gives him another cheeky grin and then looks
back at the tree, his smile fading slightly. “When I was little, my mom and I had one of those little
tabletop trees to decorate. And we made our own ornaments too, cut out little reindeer and
snowflakes out of card paper and decorated them with glitter and stuff.” His eyes are bright as he
gazes at the tree, his expression soft, vulnerable. “And a little bluebird that she had made out of
some cheap felt. She was really creative like that.” He bites his lip, wrapping his arms around his
knees. “God, I wish I had kept it,” he whispers.

Jungkook places a hand on Taehyung’s knee, rubbing his thumb gently over the material of his
sweatpants. He’s not sure if he should voice the question that he wants to ask.

What happened to her?

He opens his mouth, hesitates but then Taehyung speaks as if he had heard the question
telepathically.

“She had cancer.”

Jungkook’s thumb stills on Taehyung’s knee and he glances up at him but Taehyung’s gaze is still
fixed on the tree, looking at it but not really seeing it.
“I remember－” he stops, takes a deep breath and then goes on. “I remember when she was in the
hospital, I tried putting up some pictures I had painted for her around her bed but the fucking staff
took them down.” He sniffs and scrubs an impatient hand over his eyes. “Something about it being
against regulations or some bullshit like that. I don’t know. I j-just wanted her to have some c-
colour. Sometimes I feel as if it drained the life right out of her, being surrounded by all that stark
whiteness. It was all so…joyless.”

Something in Jungkook’s chest clenches as he remembers what Taehyung had said the day he had
painted the penthouse walls.

I’ll paint it every colour of the fucking rainbow before I resign myself to living with white fucking
walls!

God, if he had only known. He would have let Taehyung paint his penthouse the very day he had
first moved into it.

A tear slips down Taehyung’s face and he presses his lips together, blinking rapidly. “It was my
fault,” he gasps out. “She hadn’t been well for a l-long t-time, she just kept getting sicker and
sicker and I didn’t even fucking n-notice－”

“Oh, baby, no.” Jungkook gently pulls Taehyung forward so that he’s cradled in his lap. “It wasn’t
your fault－”

“Y-yes it was!” Taehyung heaves in a shuddering breath, clutching at Jungkook’s shirt. “It was my
f-fault, I was her s-son, I should have figured it out s-sooner, I should have m-made her go s-see a
doctor－”

“How could you have known, baby?” Jungkook says softly, brushing a lock of hair away from
Taehyung’s face. “You were fifteen, right? There’s no way you could have predicted that would
happen, Tae, you can’t take responsibility for that.”

Taehyung shakes his head vehemently, more tears spilling out of his eyes. “It was my fault,” he
sobs. “It was.”

“No, baby, no, shh…”

Taehyung buries his face in Jungkook’s chest, his entire body wracked with sobs and all Jungkook
can do is hold onto him, murmur soothing words, and press the occasional kiss to the top of his
head. He wants to take Taehyung’s pain away, make it his own so Taehyung won’t have to feel it
anymore. But he knows that this is impossible so he just holds onto him and when Taehyung is all
cried out and has fallen asleep against his chest, Jungkook stays there with him, cradling him in his
lap and looking around his penthouse, silently vowing to never paint over the bright colours
Taehyung had put there.

Not ever.
The next morning, Jungkook wakes up on the sofa, blinking at the winter sunlight streaming in
through the penthouse windows, Taehyung stretched out right on top of him, fast asleep. He stays
there, not wanting to wake him even though he’s hungry and he has to piss like a fucking
racehorse.

Thankfully, Taehyung stirs a few moments later, letting out a sleepy yawn and lifting his head
from Jungkook’s chest, his eyes a bit puffy. He looks confused for a moment and then scrambles
back onto the other side of sofa, blushing furiously.

“S-sorry,” he stammers. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep right on top of you.”

“S’ okay, don’t apologize,” Jungkook says, sitting up and stretching. He tilts his head to the side,
cracking his neck and sighs. “You hungry? Because I’m fucking starving.”

Taehyung nods so Jungkook gets up to head to the bathroom before calling down for breakfast but
then Taehyung catches his hand as Jungkook starts to make his way past him.

“Um, thank you for last night,” he says quietly, not looking at him. “I know I was kind of a mess.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He lingers there for a few seconds, gazing down at Taehyung’s hand
holding onto his own. “I know I wouldn’t be anyone’s first choice for a therapist or anything but if
you ever need to talk about anything…you can come talk to me.”

“I know.” Taehyung glances up at him and squeezes his hand. “Thank you.”

He wants to stay there holding onto Taehyung’s hand for the rest of day but his body is insisting
that he go take a leak like right now please so he reluctantly pulls away and excuses himself. But
when he comes out of the bathroom into the bedroom, it’s to see Taehyung sitting on the bed,
holding something in his hands.

“Can I show you something?” he asks, looking a bit nervous.

“Yeah, sure.” He goes to sit beside him on the bed and Taehyung hands him a photo encased in a
cheap plastic frame. The picture shows a pretty young woman holding a toddler in her arms,
standing in some park somewhere, a swingset in the background. The woman is looking into the
camera, a serene smile on her face but the toddler is laughing at something out of frame, those big
brown eyes and boxy smile unmistakable.

“That’s her,” Taehyung says, leaning in close to Jungkook, gazing down at the picture. “And I
think I was maybe two and a half, three? Something like that. I don’t even know who took the
picture. It might have been Lee Gwang-Jin, the owner of the coffee shop where she worked, you
know? Or it might have been his wife, I don’t know for sure…”

Jungkook swallows back the lump rising in his throat as he stares down at the picture. “What about
your dad?”

“Oh, I never met my dad. He fucked off somewhere once he got my mom pregnant.” There’s no
bitterness in Taehyung’s voice, just a casual statement of fact but Jungkook’s hand tightens
involuntarily on the picture frame.

Fucking bastard, abandoning them like that. I should track him down and cut his fucking balls off,
make him pay for being a cowardly, selfish asshole－

But his train of violent thought is derailed when Taehyung starts speaking again. “I meant to get a
new frame for it,” he says. “Something nicer. I mean, I can now that I have money but－”
He stops, looking away and plucking at the fabric of his sweatpants, biting his lip. There’s an
awkward silence and Jungkook can only guess at what Taehyung is thinking right now. He’s still
paying Taehyung every single week, honoring the contract between them even though he doesn’t
view Taehyung as his personal escort anymore, even though he still waits for Taehyung to initiate
sex between them. He feels like they’re in this weird state of limbo that might be resolved if one of
them brought up the contract but so far Taehyung hasn’t. And Jungkook doesn’t want to bring it up
either because what if it leads to a conversation where Taehyung asks Jungkook to break the
contract between them so he can leave? He knows that they’ll have to talk about it eventually when
the full year is up but maybe by then…Taehyung will want to stay with him?

It’s a stupid, crazy thought but Jungkook can’t help but hold out some sort of hope for that
outcome. Maybe if he lets this thing play out between them, Taehyung won’t leave once his
contract is up. Yoongi and Jimin met at the Bird Cage and are now in a stable relationship with
each other－was it really so outlandish to think that the same thing might happen between him and
Taehyung? Maybe, given a few more months, Taehyung will want the same thing that Jungkook
wants. Maybe he’ll want more.

So he won’t bring it up now. He’ll play the long game, stick to the contract and keep paying
Taehyung every week. He doesn’t even mind doing that, he wants to make sure that Taehyung
feels secure and has money of his own. Because if he is going to stay with Jungkook, he doesn’t
want it to be because he’s become dependent on Jungkook to take care of him.

He clears his throat, handing the photo back to Taehyung. “A new frame would be nice,” he says.
“Maybe you and Jimin can go shopping for one or something.”

“Yeah…” Taehyung stares down at the photo. “I just really miss her sometimes, you know?” he
whispers. “Especially around this time of year. She really loved Christmas, always went out of her
way to try and make it special, even though we didn’t have a lot of money.” He sighs and then puts
the picture back in the drawer of the bedside table. “I’m going to go paint for a little bit.” He gets
up abruptly from the bed, avoiding Jungkook’s eye and walks hastily out of the room.

Jungkook doesn’t go after him, deciding that it’s best to leave him alone for a little while, give him
some space. But he also decides that he is going to try and make this the best fucking Christmas of
Taehyung’s entire life.

***

“It would help me decide what to wear if you told me where we were fucking going,” Taehyung
huffs, standing in front of Jungkook’s closet.

“I told you, just wear something fancy.” Jungkook shrugs on a white shirt and starts to button it up.
“I did buy you clothes that would be appropriate for a formal occasion, Tae. Just pick something or
we’re going to be late.”
“Late to where?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer, looking away from him and focusing intently on doing up his Hugo
Boss cufflinks on his sleeves.

“God, you are being so annoying right now. Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?”

“Because I told you a million fucking times already, it’s a fucking surprise.”

It’s Christmas Eve and Jungkook has been planning this evening out with Taehyung for a while
now, even before he decided to give him an incredible Christmas. But Taehyung doesn’t seem to
be one for surprises because ever since Jungkook had told him that he was taking him out
somewhere this evening, Taehyung hasn’t stopped pestering him, alternatively begging, cajoling,
feigning indifference, going behind his back and texting Jimin to see if he knew anything, and
finally threatening to not set foot outside the door unless Jungkook told him where they were
going.

But Jungkook has held firm, meeting Taehyung’s last threat with one of his own, telling him in no
uncertain terms that he had no problem throwing Taehyung over his shoulder and carrying him out
of the penthouse, no matter how formally they were dressed.

“Is that your idea of formal wear?” Taehyung says irritably, nodding at Jungkook. “Wearing a
white shirt instead of a black one?”

“For an occasion like this, yes it is. Now would you stop fucking stalling and pick something?”

Taehyung looks away, crossing his arms over his chest and biting his lip as he stares into
Jungkook’s closet. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to wear,” he says quietly. “I’ve never really
been anywhere fancy.”

Jungkook’s irritation immediately evaporates, turning into a sense of guilt. Of fucking course
Taehyung wouldn’t know what to wear to a formal event, it was stupid of Jungkook to assume that.

“Here,” he says, going over to the closet and taking out the black button down and trousers he had
bought for Taehyung at the Shinsegae department store all those months ago. “Wear these. With
that green Givenchy coat on top. That’ll be perfect.”

“Okay…” Taehyung snags the coat out of the closet as well and heads into the bathroom to change,
still modest as ever. While he’s waiting, Jungkook dons his usual black suit jacket along with his
black wool coat from Prada, checking his Rolex to see that they still have plenty of time to get
there before the performance starts. But still, getting there early to relax and have a drink along
with some pleasant conversation before the show started has been a part of the tradition and
Jungkook doesn’t want to break it this year. Even if it’s the first year he’ll be attending without
her.

He hears the bathroom door open and glances up to see Taehyung come out of the bathroom, now
dressed in the all-black outfit with the green brocade coat thrown over top. Something stutters in
his chest as he gazes at Taehyung, taking him in. He’s seen Taehyung in this outfit before at the
Shinsegae and he’s now come to see that Taehyung is incredibly beautiful no matter what he’s
wearing. But there’s just something about him in green that emphasizes his honey-gold skin and
pink, soft-looking lips that takes Jungkook’s breath away.

“Um…is this okay?” Taehyung looks a bit uncertain, spreading his arms out and glancing down at
himself. “Like, is this fancy enough?”
“Yeah.” His voice comes out sounding a bit strained so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah,
it’s perfect. Come here.”

Taehyung, looking even more apprehensive now, comes over to him and Jungkook adjusts the
collar of his coat slightly, brushes an invisible speck of dust off the lapels. The coat doesn’t really
need straightening; it’s just an excuse to touch Taehyung. “You look really good, baby.”

Good. Major fucking understatement.

“Thanks.” Taehyung’s voice sounds a bit uneven and there’s a faint blush on his cheeks. “Good
enough for where we’re going…?”

“Yes. And nice try but I’m not saying anything. You’ll find out when we get there.”

Taehyung puts on an exaggerated pout, giving him wide puppy dog eyes and Jungkook notices that
his lips have a slight sheen to them.

Is he wearing…lip balm?

He forces himself to take a step back, smirking at him. “You can pout all you want but it doesn’t
fucking work on me.”

“Oh, no?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow at him, a mischievous smile on his face. “So what does
work on you?”

“Enough of that,” Jungkook says roughly, hustling him out of the room before Taehyung’s
flirtatious tone causes him to throw him down on the bed and fuck his brains out, their evening out
be damned. “Come on, Tae, your burning curiosity will be satisfied in twenty minutes.”

When the driver pulls the Lincoln up outside of the theater, Taehyung looks eagerly outside the
back window at the posters displayed outside.

“Swan Lake?” Taehyung says, sounding puzzled. He turns to Jungkook, a frown on his face.
“You’re taking me to a ballet?”

“Well, what were you expecting? A boxing match?” Jungkook opens the back door and steps
outside, leaning down to help Taehyung out of the car. “That wouldn’t be very Christmassy, now
would it?”

“No, I guess not…” Taehyung gazes up at the theater, taking it in. “Still, I wouldn’t have expected
you to be the ballet type either. I never imagined that something like this would be your thing.”

“It never used to be. My mother forced me to come with her every year since I was seven years old.
I used to fucking hate it but over the years, it’s…grown on me, I guess you could say.”

“Oh.” Taehyung glances at him, an unreadable expression on his face but he nods as if he
understands what Jungkook is saying. “Well, this probably goes without saying but I’ve never been
to one.”
“Yeah, I figured that.” Jungkook puts his hand on Taehyung’s lower back, guiding him into the
theater. “I think you’ll like it.”

They weave around the crowds of finely-dressed people and Jungkook leads Taehyung upstairs to
the balcony where he has his own private box, the same one he’s sat in every year. A bodyguard
stands at the entrance of the box already, bowing silently as Jungkook ushers Taehyung onto the
small private balcony and they take their seats. A bottle of Dom Pérignon is already sitting in an
ice bucket on a small table beside Jungkook’s seat, along with two champagne flutes.

“Champagne?” Jungkook asks, taking the bottle out of the ice bucket and unwrapping the foil. “It’s
sort of a tradition.”

“Uh, sure.”

Jungkook carefully twists the cork out and pours them each a half-full glass, passing one of the
flutes to Taehyung, who takes it with a slightly dubious expression.

“I’ve never tried champagne before. Isn’t it sort of like wine?”

“Just try it. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to drink it.” He holds his glass out towards
Taehyung. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” They clink glasses and Taehyung takes a sip but immediately makes a face, putting his
glass down. “Ugh, it just tastes like wine with bubbles in it.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Suit yourself.” He drains the rest of his glass and sets it on the table
beside him. “You and your unsophisticated tastebuds. Do you want something else? I can have
something brought up from the bar downstairs.”

“No, that’s okay.” Taehyung leans forward and props his elbows on the railing, gazing down over
the edge of the balcony at the theater below. “This is so cool,” he murmurs, looking around at the
stage with the red velvet curtain still lowered, at the musicians in the orchestra pit tuning their
instruments and the people milling about on the floor below, looking for their seats. “I can see why
you insisted on dressing up now. Everyone looks so fancy.”

Jungkook leans forward too, looking down at the sea of people below. “That’s because ballet
performances are notorious for attracting wealthy snobs who try to one-up each other by parading
around in their most expensive clothes.”

Taehyung cocks an eyebrow at him. “Including you?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Including me.” He jerks his chin at a woman down below wearing a navy
blue evening gown. “See that woman down there? That’s a Balenciaga gown she’s wearing. At a
guess, I’d put it at around six million won. And that elderly lady a few rows back from the stage?
The one wearing the long black gloves? That’s a chinchilla fur wrap she’s wearing around her
shoulders and it’s gotta be at least a million, if not more."

Taehyung gives him a sidelong glance. “How does a mob boss know all this stuff about fashion?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Because of my mother. She always had an appreciation for it, considered it
another form of art. So we’d come here every year and she’d spend at least ten minutes looking out
at the crowd and pointing out what designers everyone was wearing. And she’d always buy a new
gown just for this occasion. Usually Chanel. She always considered Chanel to be the epitome of
class.”
He sits back in his seat, a heaviness stealing over him. He can almost hear her, reciting the names
in his head in her quiet, measured voice.

Dior, Versace, Oscar de la Renta, Ralph Lauren and oh look, that woman is wearing a vintage
Balmain, isn’t that exquisite…

Taehyung sits back too and Jungkook can feel his eyes on him. “What was she like?” he asks
quietly.

Jungkook glances at him. “You really want to know?”

Taehyung hesitates for a second and then nods. “Yeah, I do. If you don’t mind talking about her.”

Jungkook remains quiet for a few moments, staring out at the theater below, not really seeing it.
“She was…elegant,” he says finally. “Cultured, you know? She liked fine things but not because
she was looking for status or anything like that, but because she truly appreciated good quality and
workmanship. In anything. Whether it be food or clothes or art.” He drums his fingers against the
arm of his seat, biting the inside of his cheek. “And, in spite of being married to someone like my
father she was…remarkably kind. To everyone, including members of our staff at the house.
Always gracious and considerate and she…” He trails off, not knowing how to voice the thought
out loud.

She deserved so much better than the life she got stuck with.

Jungkook feels as if he’s failed his mother somehow, like he hasn’t described her adequately
enough to Taehyung. Because she was so much more than an elegant, classy woman. She had been
fiercely intelligent, devouring a book every two or three days, fiction and nonfiction, her curiosity
wide and far reaching, wanting to educate herself on every subject possible. And strong and
unshakable, the serene calm to his father’s raging storms.

Except, maybe, when it came to Jungkook.

He had known that his mother had disapproved of him being initiated into the Yong Jegug at such
a young age, but apart from that night when she had raged so ferociously at his father, Jungkook
had never heard her say anything else on the subject. Even though he could see the grave concern
in her eyes every time she looked at him, only increasing as time went on and Jungkook became
more heavily involved in the Yong Jegug, taking on more and more responsibilities, she had
maintained a stoic facade and kept quiet.

Except for that one time.

It had been just over four years ago when he had just turned twenty-two and had gotten into a bit of
an ‘altercation’ with a rival gang member and nearly been gutted as a result. He had needed twenty-
five stitches to close the wound and when he had been released from the hospital, his mother had
demanded that he recover at home instead of at his own penthouse. His father had grumbled that
she was being ‘overbearing’ and ‘coddling’ him but his mother had dug her heels in and ultimately
gotten her way.

So Jungkook returned to the family home for about a week to gingerly walk around the house and
sit on the couch where his mother forced him to participate in discussions on history and art and
philosophy. But he had been so deep in the gang world by then that these conversations held no
interest for him－he was just raring to get back onto the streets and take his revenge, like his father
was encouraging him to.
But she had insisted he stay at the house with her for at least a full week and one morning
Jungkook had gotten up to get a glass of water, trying to move around quietly so he wouldn’t wake
her up. But the glass he wanted was on one of the higher shelves in the cupboard and when he
stretched to reach it, he was in danger of ripping his stitches. He tried to nudge the glass out and
catch it in his hand but he missed and it went crashing to the floor, glass shattering everywhere.

“Fuck!”

“You will watch your language in this house, Jungkook,” a stern voice said behind him and he
turned to see his mother wearing her silk kimono, her expression stony.

“Sorry, eomma,” Jungkook muttered, carefully crouching down to gather the glass shards scattered
on the floor. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up…”

But she knelt down beside him, a dishcloth in hand, sweeping the glass into a little pile. “Careful,
darling, your stitches…”

“It’s fine, eomma, don’t fuss－” But then he hissed and looked down to see blood blooming on the
bandage wrapped around his midriff. He had forgone a shirt and was only wearing a pair of
sweatpants so there was no hiding it from her.

He glanced up and Jungkook still vividly remembers the expression on her face－she had looked
stricken, staring down at the bandage, the stain of blood seeping across the snowy white gauze,
turning it an ugly rust color. She let out a choked sob and placed a hand on his wrist, squeezing it
tightly.

“I wanted so much better for you,” she whispered. Then she got to her feet and walked swiftly from
the room, her hands over her mouth.

Jungkook had been so confused by her reaction. What could she possibly mean by ‘better?’ He was
a prominent member of the Yong Jegug, in control of his destiny and completely ready to take on
the leadership when the time came, so that the city of Seoul would remain under his family’s
control for generations to come. Just the way his father said it should be, just as Jungkook thought
it should be. What could be better than that?

“Were you two close?” Taehyung asks him, startling him out of his memories.

Jungkook tilts his head, considering the question. “In a sense. As close as my father allowed us to
be, I guess. He had this idea that it wasn’t right for us to be too informal with each other once I
reached a certain age. Didn’t want me becoming ‘soft,’ I guess.” He nods at the theater below. “I
think that’s why she always insisted on upholding this tradition with it being just the two of us. It
was one of those rare occasions where we got to spend time together as mother and son.”

“No offense, but your father kind of sounds like an asshole.”

Jungkook smiles grimly. “I’d say that’s a fair assessment. But…he did love my mother. In fact, I
think she was the only person he ever really loved.”

For as terrifying and ruthless as Jeon Yongsun was to everyone else around him, including rival
gang members, those in his own inner circle and even the staff working at the family home, he was
practically a hopeless romantic when it came to Jungkook’s mother, bringing home flowers once a
week, hanging on her every word when she talked about classical music or the latest fashions, or
simply just holding her hand in his when they sat on the couch together. She was the only one his
father was tame around, even if they had differing ideas on how Jungkook should be raised, what
sort of man he should be. He remembers one time as a teenager coming into the living room and
finding them slow dancing to a piece by Wagner, and he did the typical teenagery thing of scoffing
and rolling his eyes as he made his way past them to the kitchen for something to eat. But they had
just ignored him, both so wrapped up in each other that Jungkook was sure that they hadn’t even
noticed him. Growing up and seeing the way his father had looked at his mother, how fiercely
protective he was of her, there was no doubt in Jungkook’s mind that he had truly loved her.

Even if he hadn’t loved anybody else. Not even him.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She liked art too,” Jungkook says, at a loss for
anything else to say. “You would have liked her.”

“I’m sure I would have,” Taehyung says quietly. He takes Jungkook’s hand in his, giving it a
gentle squeeze. “She sounds like she was a good person.”

Jungkook nods, looking down at where their hands are intertwined and he feels his throat tighten.
He wants to share more stories about her with Taehyung, wants to give him a better picture of her
but then the lights dim and the curtain goes up, a smattering of polite applause echoing around the
theater and Taehyung lets go of Jungkook’s hand to join in, turning to look at the stage. And
Jungkook thinks that’s the end of it and he’s wishing it wasn’t because it felt so good to hold
Taehyung’s hand in his.

But then as the applause dies down and the ballet starts, Taehyung reaches for his hand again,
lacing their fingers together. And he holds onto it throughout the entire show, only letting go when
there’s an applause break, immediately taking it again as soon as the clapping stops.

Jungkook barely glances at the stage throughout the entire performance.

Instead, his gaze is riveted on Taehyung’s face, how his expression turns from polite interest at the
beginning of the show to complete enchantment only a few minutes in. His eyes shine with wonder
as the story of the swan princess unfolds down below, a soft smile curving his lips as she dances
her pas de deux with the prince, a quiet gasp escaping him during the very first lift, a relieved look
on his face when she touches back down gracefully to the floor.

Sitting there, watching Taehyung become captivated by the ballet, Jungkook wishes, more than
ever, that his mother was still alive. Just so that he could introduce her to Taehyung.

He can almost picture it in his mind. Can almost see the two of them, with tea cups in hand,
chatting amicably on the sofa in the family home about art and music and books. And maybe
Jungkook would persuade Taehyung to show her some of his artwork and she’d be full of praise
for it, while offering constructive feedback at the same time, gently critiquing his work, giving him
advice on how to make it better. And Jungkook would chide her and say, “Come on, eomma,
you’re being too harsh, his art is already perfect…”

He’s already perfect just the way he is.

Jungkook hadn’t understood back then what his mother had meant by wanting ‘better’ for him. But
now, sitting here and gazing at Taehyung, he thinks he might finally know what she had been
talking about.
“That was so magical,” Taehyung says dreamily as they walk into the penthouse. “I feel like I
could have watched it go on forever.”

“I think the dancers would have gotten tired eventually,” Jungkook replies, helping Taehyung out
of his coat and hanging it up. “Then you’d just be watching a bunch of exhausted people crawling
around on the stage.”

“Don’t spoil it with your annoying realism. It’s fun to dream.”

Jungkook shrugs out of his own coat, watching as Taehyung does a little pirouette in the middle of
the living area. “I wish I could dance like that,” he says, splaying his arms out as he twirls around.

“Well, who says you can’t learn?” Jungkook goes up to him, slipping his arms around his waist.
“You could take ballet classes if you wanted.”

Taehyung makes a face, placing his hands on Jungkook’s shoulders. “Yeah, me in a tutu in a
beginners class surrounded by a bunch of five year olds. No thank you.”

“I, for one, think you’d look hot in a tutu.”

“Shut up.”

Jungkook chuckles, taking one of Taehyung’s hands in his, securing his arm around his waist and
bringing him closer. “Or you could take up ballroom dancing,” he whispers, starting to sway him
back and forth, “then teach me a thing or two…”

“I think I could dance circles around you any day, boss man,” Taehyung says, a hint of laughter in
his voice. “With or without lessons.”

“I’m sure you could.”

They both fall quiet as they sway together in a slow circle, no music or anything, just the two of
them close in the shadows of the penthouse. Taehyung sighs, letting his head rest on Jungkook’s
shoulder as they dance, one of his hands cupping the back of Jungkook’s neck, his fingertips idly
playing with the ends of Jungkook’s hair, threading through the strands. It sends a shiver down
Jungkook’s spine.

“I think it’d be nice to go see more ballets,” Taehyung murmurs. “I really enjoyed this one, I never
wanted it to end…”

“They have a different one at that theater every Christmas,” Jungkook says softly, closing his eyes
and resting his cheek against Taehyung’s hair. “We could go next year if you want…”

Taehyung stops moving, his entire body tensing in Jungkook’s arms.

“...next year?”

There’s confusion in Taehyung’s voice and a split second later, realization crashes over Jungkook.
The contract. It would be up by then, long before the end of next year.
He hastily lets go of Taehyung and steps back from him and even though he’s only put a couple of
feet of space between them, it feels more like an entire ocean of distance.

“I meant you could go next year,” Jungkook says quickly. “If you wanted to, I mean.”

“Right…” Taehyung hugs himself as if he’s cold, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. An
awkward silence descends, neither of them looking at each other.

Next year…Would Taehyung even be here with him this time next year? Would he want to stay
with him after the contract is up?

“Um, so…” Taehyung fidgets with his hands, looking at him uncertainly. “Do you want to…go to
bed?”

“No,” Jungkook says, a bit too insistently and Taehyung looks more confused than ever. “Uh,
sorry,” he continues. “It’s just that there’s something I need to go out and take care of.”

“Oh.” Taehyung nods and glances in the direction of the bedroom. “Okay.”

Jungkook turns to leave, hating that he’s ruined what was supposed to be a perfect evening because
he couldn’t keep his stupid fucking mouth shut. But just as he places his hand on the door knob, he
hears Taehyung speak.

“Will you at least stay with me? Until I fall asleep?”

Jungkook’s hand falls from the door knob and he turns back to Taehyung. “Yeah, baby. Of
course.”

They go into the bedroom and after Taehyung changes into a tee shirt and boxer shorts, they get
into bed together, Jungkook still fully dressed. Taehyung snuggles close, resting his head on
Jungkook’s shoulder, placing his hand on top of Jungkook’s chest.

“Where is it that you have to go?” Taehyung asks.

“Just out somewhere.”

“Oh. Mob stuff?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

Taehyung sighs. “I guess underworld criminals don’t get holidays, do they?”

“No, not exactly.” Jungkook stares up at the ceiling, rubbing Taehyung’s back. “I’ll be home all
day tomorrow though. If you want to…hang out.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Taehyung rubs his cheek against Jungkook’s shoulder, letting out a yawn.
“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” he says sleepily. “I’ll never forget it.”

Jungkook allows his lips to graze the top of Taehyung’s head, kissing his hair. “It was my pleasure,
Tae.”

They lay there in the quiet darkness and Jungkook feels Taehyung’s body relax completely against
him, hears his breathing deepen and once he’s made sure that Taehyung has fallen asleep, he
carefully extricates himself from him and leaves the room, making sure to close the door behind
him. He makes his way out of the penthouse, a guard still posted at the front door and heads a
couple of floors down to one of the apartments owned by the Yong Jegug. Upon opening the door,
he’s confronted by total chaos.

“No, no, no,” Jin is shouting at Seojoon, “that’s not what the tutorial is saying, you’re supposed to
fold the paper the other way to get the pleats－”

“I’m following the fucking tutorial,” Seojoon says irritably, peering at a video playing on his
phone. “I’m doing it right!”

“No you’re not, you’re supposed to fold it this way－”

“Bogum!” Jimin says shrilly, standing on the other side of the table and snatching a present from
him. “I swear to fucking god if you tag another one of my presents to Tae as being from Jungkook,
I will get Yoongi to rearrange your fucking face－”

Yoongi, who is sitting at the dining table, cutting off a piece of wrapping paper, glances up at
Jungkook and gives him a long-suffering look.

“Hey!”

They all stop arguing and look up at him, pausing in mid-giftwrap. There’s a small pile of wrapped
presents clustered together at one end of the table but Jungkook notices that there’s still a lot of
Taehyung’s presents that have yet to be wrapped.

“I thought you guys would have been finished by now! There’s six of you for fuck’s sake!”

“We would have been done by now,” Seojoon says, casting a dark look at Jin. “But someone
decided that each present needed to be wrapped to fucking perfection so we haven’t made a lot of
progress.”

“Oh, come on, man,” Namjoon says mildly, adding some tape to the the gift he’s wrapping. “Jin
wants them to look nice for Taehyung. We all do.”

“Well, yeah but he doesn’t have to be a fucking dictator about it. We live in South Korea, not the
North, remember?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Jungkook commands, heading over and grabbing one of Taehyung’s
unwrapped gifts at random. “Let’s just get this done so we can get them upstairs and under the tree,
all right?”

“Hey, boss, are you sure Taehyung will like this collector’s set of Death Note that I got for him?
What if he already has some of the volumes…”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m sure he’ll like it, Bogum. Now shut the fuck up and just fucking wrap the
goddamn thing already.”

Under Jungkook’s watchful eye, the members of his inner circle get the rest of Taehyung’s
presents wrapped without further incident and they hastily pile them all in a large cardboard box in
order to carry them upstairs to the penthouse. They all insist on coming up with him though, under
the guise of ‘helping’ him put the presents under the tree although he suspects it’s really because
each member wants to put his present front and center where Taehyung can easily see it.

“What about that other thing?” Jungkook asks Jin as they all traipse down the hallway. “Did you
get it taken care of?”

“Yep, ready to go. I’ll be going to pick it up in the morning and be back here around…11, let’s
say?”

“Okay, good. That’s perfect.”

When they get to the penthouse door, Jungkook turns and glares at them all. “None of you are
going to make a fucking sound, understood? Taehyung is sleeping and if any of you wake him up,
I’ll have you thrown in a wood chipper. I don’t care if it’s fucking Christmas.”

“Maybe we should all take our shoes off,” Jimin suggests. “That way we won’t be clomping
around the apartment.”

“Good idea.”

There’s a couple of minutes of shuffling and whispering and shushing noises as they all remove
their shoes and then, after giving them all one last deadly look of warning, Jungkook opens the
door and beckons them inside. The members of the Yong Jegug, along with Jimin, tiptoe inside and
over to the lit-up tree, the only light still left on in the penthouse.

Jin puts the cardboard box down and, trying to keep the rustling noises to a minimum, they all take
the presents out and arrange them around the tree as quietly as possible. Jungkook supervises,
glancing anxiously between the gang members crawling around underneath the Christmas tree and
the bedroom door. He knows it’s kind of stupid to insist on stealth for this, it’s not like Taehyung is
going to believe fucking Santa Claus brought him the gifts in the dead of night. But he hadn’t
indicated to Taehyung that he was planning on getting him any gifts and he wants Taehyung to
experience that magical moment of waking up to see presents underneath the tree where there
hadn’t been any before.

“Hey!” Bogum whispers angrily. “Seojoon, don’t put your gift on top of mine－”

“Bogum, I told you to keep fucking quiet,” Jungkook hisses. “Shut up, all of you and let’s get this
done.”

Finally, when all of the presents are stowed away safely under the tree, Jungkook hustles all of
them out of the penthouse and, once he’s reassured Bogum that yes, he will make sure Taehyung
waits to open his present in front him, tells them all to get lost.

“See you tomorrow, boss,” Jin says and Jungkook nods at him before closing the door. He heaves
a sigh. You would think getting a handful of gang members to wrap some presents and put them
under a Christmas tree would be a simple operation but apparently not.

He makes his way to the bedroom in the darkness, a weird feeling of excitement bubbling up inside
him, half apprehension, half anticipation as he imagines the look on Taehyung’s face tomorrow
morning when he sees the presents waiting for him underneath the tree.

***

Add egg to waffle batter and stir until smooth…

Jungkook frowns at the recipe on his phone and then gets an egg out of the fridge and taps it gently
against the side of the bowl, like he’s seen it done in the numerous video tutorials he’s watched.
Piece of cake, how fucking hard can it be to whip up a batch of waffles－

But the stupid egg isn’t breaking so Jungkook gives it a hard whack against the side of the bowl
and the egg smashes to pieces, fragments of shell landing in the bowl as well as on the counter,
along with a substantial amount of egg goop.

“Shit!”

“What are you doing?”

Jungkook whips around to see Taehyung come into the kitchen, dressed in an oversized tee shirt
and sweatpants, his messy hair sticking up in every direction.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Jungkook says sourly, turning back to the bowl on the counter.
“I’m making breakfast.”

“It looks like you’re making a mess, actually,” Taehyung says, coming to stand beside him and
peering into the bowl. “See, I don’t think you’re supposed to add egg shells to the batter, just the
stuff that’s inside.”

“Shut up. I’ve never done this before.”

“What? You mean this is your first time making food for yourself with your own two hands?
Colour me surprised.”

“Don’t be such a fucking brat,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth, landing a light smack on
Taehyung’s ass. “It’s harder than it looks.”

“I know. Here, let me help.”

Taehyung sets the bowl with the ruined waffle batter in the sink and starts whipping up a new
batch, this time egg-shell free. Jungkook stands behind him, watching as Taehyung carefully ladles
out the batter onto the waffle iron.

“I was supposed to make this for you,” he grumbles.

“Well, you took me out last night and I considered it to be an extremely generous Christmas
present. So you can think of this as my gift to you.”

“Er…right.” Jungkook’s gaze strays to the pile of presents waiting underneath the tree which
Taehyung clearly hasn’t noticed yet. And still doesn’t notice when they sit down at the dining table
to eat the waffles, along with the store-bought syrup poured over top. (Jungkook thought it would
be too much to ask of him to attempt to make homemade syrup too.) Instead, Taehyung chats
animatedly about the show last night, asking Jungkook about other ballets he’s been to and which
one is his all-time favorite. Jungkook tells Taehyung that his favorite is Don Quixote but in reality
it’s Romeo and Juliet. But he’s never told anyone that particular fact. Not even his mother.

“I don’t know if anything could compare to Swan Lake,” Taehyung says, dragging his finger
around his plate, swiping up the last smears of syrup and licking it off. “But that Don Quixote one
sounds good…”

“If you like ballet, you might like opera too. I’ll take you to one next month.”
“Ooh, how classy. Aren’t they all in Italian, though?”

“That or German. But you don’t need to understand the lyrics to appreciate the music.” He watches
as Taehyung swipes up more syrup but catches his hand and brings it up to his own mouth. “It’s
more about how the music makes you feel…”

He sucks two of Taehyung’s fingers into his mouth, licking off the sticky sweet syrup, his eyes
trained on Taehyung the entire time. Taehyung’s breath hitches, his face going bright red but he
makes no attempt to pull his hand away.

“Mmm…” Jungkook lets Taehyung’s fingers slide out of his mouth, flicking his eyes over to the
tree and then back to Taehyung.

But Taehyung doesn’t take the hint, his gaze still riveted on Jungkook’s face. And he still doesn’t
look away when Jungkook tries the more obvious tactic of jerking his chin in the direction of the
tree. He frowns at Jungkook, looking puzzled.

“What the fuck are you－”

“Go look under the tree!” Jungkook bursts out.

“The tree?” Taehyung turns and finally spots the presents scattered underneath the tree and he
gasps, getting up from his chair and walking over to gape down at them. “Are these all for me?”

“Yep,” Jungkook says, unable to keep from grinning smugly, going over to stand beside Taehyung.
“Merry Christmas, baby.”

“I…” Taehyung trails off, apparently speechless. Then he bites his lip, a blush stealing over his
face. “You didn’t have to do this,” he mumbles. He crosses his arms over his chest, making no
move to start opening any of the presents.

The grin fades away from Jungkook’s face. Taehyung looks incredibly embarrassed, almost
uncomfortable and Jungkook can’t figure out why. “Tae－”

“I didn’t get you anything,” Taehyung whispers. “I didn’t know we were doing presents and here
you are, being so generous. You’re spoiling me－”

“Hey.” Jungkook touches Taehyung’s arm and Taehyung turns to face him, looking utterly
miserable. “It’s my prerogative to spoil you if I want, Tae. I wanted to do this.” He gives him a
reassuring smile, running his hand up and down Taehyung’s arm. “You deserve to be spoiled. And
besides, not all of them are from me. I mean, yeah, most of them are, but some are from the guys
and there’s a few from Jimin. But, ah, they requested that you wait to open the ones from them
until they get here. Which should be in another hour or so,” he says, checking the clock on the
wall.

Taehyung looks even more devastated at this news. “But I didn’t get any of them anything either,”
he says anxiously. “Not even Jimin, god, we promised each other that we weren’t going to do gifts
－”

“Tae, relax. They all insisted on getting gifts for you, I had nothing to do with it. And, don’t worry,
they’re not expecting anything in return.” Well, Bogum might try to get a hug but that is NOT
fucking happening.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung says reluctantly, glancing down at the pile of presents. “I still feel kinda
bad－”
“Well, don’t. I forbid you to feel bad about this. Now, come on, open them.”

“Okay…” Taehyung sits down cross-legged on the floor next to the tree, staring around at all the
presents. “Um…which one should I open first?”

“Here, open this one.”

Jungkook kneels on the floor beside him, handing him a rectangular gift wrapped in silver paper
and Taehyung carefully starts to unwrap it, glancing up at him.

“Did you wrap these yourself?”

“Um…some of them.”

Taehyung chuckles but then gasps as he opens the slim white box underneath the paper to reveal
the black Balmain cashmere coat folded neatly inside.

“Wow, this is nice. But…you already bought me a coat.”

“So? You’re allowed more than just one. Besides, this one can be considered a wardrobe staple,
it’ll never go out of style.”

Taehyung trails his fingertips over the material of the coat. “It is really soft…”

Next, Jungkook has Taehyung open the white cashmere turtleneck sweater from Burberry and the
blue bomber jacket from Gucci with the tiger embroidered on the front and seeing that gets him a
soft smile. Unlike the next present which is a set of lingerie－a white silk slip, black lace thong,
sheer black stockings and a black silk kimono with a red and gold dragon embroidered on the back.
Taehyung takes the slip out of the box and holds it out in front of him, before slowly turning to
Jungkook and raising an eyebrow at him.

“Okay,” Jungkook says, smirking at him. “That gift is more for me than it is for you.”

“Oh, really? Can’t wait to see you in it, then.”

“Ha, nice try. The gift is seeing you wearing it for me, baby doll.”

“I see.” Taehyung lowers the slip back into the box, gazing over at Jungkook, a faint flush on his
cheeks. “And when would you like me to wear it for you?”

Jungkook swallows thickly, an image flashing in his mind of Taehyung wearing the lingerie for
him. “I was thinking this evening,” he says huskily. “If you’d be so kind to indulge me.”

Taehyung nods, dropping his gaze, running his hand over the delicate silk slip. “I think that can be
arranged,” he says shyly. Then he frowns, taking something else out of the box.

“Cherry-flavored lube?” he says, examining the small bottle. “Wow, you really have this evening
all planned out, don’t you?”

“You have no idea,” Jungkook purrs and Taehyung drops the bottle of lube back into the box and
sets it aside, looking flustered.

Next, Jungkook has Taehyung open the bottle of Tom Ford Black Orchid perfume which he seems
to approve of once he’s sprayed some on his wrist. Then Jungkook hands Taehyung the smallest
box underneath the tree and watches as Taehyung opens it curiously to reveal the solid gold
bracelet complete with a golden tiger’s head charm, its tiny diamond eyes twinkling up at him.
“Wow,” Taehyung breathes, staring down at it. “This is really pretty.”

“You like it?” Jungkook takes the bracelet out of the box and circles it around Taehyung’s slim
wrist, doing up the clasp.

“Yeah, I love it.” He fiddles with the bracelet and then looks around at all of the presents he’s
opened so far, biting his lip. “All this stuff must have been really expensive…”

Jungkook glances at the unopened gifts sitting around the tree, at the designer clothes and luxury
perfume, the lingerie set and the bracelet and the realization hits him all of a sudden how it must
look through Taehyung’s eyes. They were all gifts a wealthy man might give to his mistress.

Or gifts you might give to a whore.

“Uh, here,” Jungkook says hastily, reaching for another box and handing it to Taehyung. “Open
this one next.”

It’s a pair of soft, flannel pajamas, just like the ones Taehyung had wanted to buy at the Shinsegae
all those months ago, along with a pair of matching slippers and Taehyung grins broadly when he
sees them, seeming much more enthusiastic about this particular gift than any of the ones he’s
opened so far.

“These are nice and cozy,” he murmurs, touching the fabric of the pajamas and giving Jungkook a
grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Jungkook has him open the next present, reassured that it’s also a gift with a more personal touch: a
set of art books, one detailing all the works in the Louvre, a book on art history, and a biography of
Vincent Van Gogh. And Jungkook can tell, by the way Taehyung’s face lights up when he opens
them and how he sits there for a good ten minutes while he pages through them, that he’s chosen
right.

“This is the last one from me,” Jungkook says, handing Taehyung a small gift bag once he’s
finally managed to tear himself away from the art books. “The rest are from the guys and Jimin. So
you’ll have to wait to open those ones.”

“Okay…” Taehyung reaches inside the gift bag－and pulls out a roll of duct tape and a banana. He
slowly lifts his head to look at Jungkook, glaring at him.

“You probably think this is hilarious, don’t you?”

Jungkook smirks. “I just thought if you were getting bored with paint, you could try experimenting
with another medium－”

“Oh my fucking god, you are such a fucking jerk!” Taehyung throws the roll of duct tape at him.
“I’m still not over having to walk into an art gallery and see that fucking banana with my own two
eyes and here you are reminding me of it on fucking Christmas? Fuck you!” And then he bursts
out laughing, throwing the banana at Jungkook too.

“Hey, that’s a potentially billion-dollar art project you’re throwing at me－”

“Shut up.” Taehyung’s laughter trails off and then he glances behind Jungkook at the door of his
art studio. “Um, speaking of art stuff,” he says, tugging nervously at his earlobe. “I, um, might
have a gift for you after all.” He gets to his feet, tells Jungkook to ‘wait right there’ before padding
over to his art studio, disappearing inside. Jungkook gets up from the floor too, but stays where he
is, his heart thumping in his chest. There’s no way Taehyung could have painted a picture just for
him…could he?

But then Taehyung is coming back out into the living room carrying a medium-sized canvas,
holding it so the back of it faces Jungkook. He glances down at it, his teeth worrying at his lower
lip, before looking back up at Jungkook.

“So, um, the thing is I’ve had this done for a while but I guess I kept putting off showing it to you
because, well, I wanted to make sure I was completely happy with it before I showed it to you and
honestly I’m not sure if I am happy with it, I’ve gone over it so many times, I don’t even know if
it’s good or not but it is Christmas and you’ve given me all this wonderful stuff that I think it’s only
fair I give you something and I was going to give it to you at some point but－”

“Tae,” Jungkook says quietly, cutting off his nervous babbling. “Just show it to me.”

But still Taehyung hesitates, glancing down at the picture again. “Promise you won’t laugh.”

“Tae, I’m not going to laugh. Now let me have a look at it. Please.”

“Okay.” Taehyung takes a deep breath and turns the canvas around, revealing it to him. “I painted
this for you,” he says softly.

Jungkook feels as if he’s had the wind knocked out of him as he stares at the painting because
Taehyung has painted him－slouched nonchalantly on a dark throne, dressed in all black, lips
quirked up in a seductive smirk. An enormous black dragon towers behind the throne, its long
scaled body coiled up like a serpent, leering out at the viewer from the shadows, its obsidian eyes
reflecting the exact same expression depicted in Jungkook’s dark gaze－arrogance and hunger and
lust but there’s something else underneath, something that Jungkook can’t quite put his finger on.
Something that counters all those primal, animalistic emotions, that seems to connect Jungkook to
the dragon. He reaches out and gently takes the painting from Taehyung, holding it out in front of
him so he can take a closer look.

But the more he stares at it, the more the complete meaning of the painting seems to elude him. All
he knows for sure is that Taehyung has painted what amounts to a magic mirror－Jungkook
recognizes his painted self as his own reflection, the mask that he shows to the outside world as
well as the self he keeps hidden away. Or thought he had kept hidden away. But Taehyung has
seen it. Taehyung knows it’s there.

“Tae, this is…” He trails off, not knowing if there’s even a word that exists in any language that
could accurately describe the masterpiece that Taehyung has created.

Taehyung stands beside him, looking down at the painting and fidgeting with his hands. “Actually,
you know what, I’m not happy with this at all, I shouldn’t have showed it to you, give it back－”

He tries to take the painting back from him but Jungkook holds it away, scowling at him. “Oh, no
you don’t. This is the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever given to me in my entire life and you’re
not taking it back, Tae. This is going on my wall.”

Taehyung pauses, blinking at him in surprise. “You…think it’s beautiful?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says quietly. “I do.” He stares at Taehyung, who is still standing so close to him,
gazing at him with those soft, vulnerable eyes and the silence stretches between them, becomes
thick with humming intensity and Jungkook finds himself completely mesmerized by him, as if
Taehyung is a living, breathing work of art, molded by the hands of a god who was either loving or
cruel. Loving to have made Taehyung in the first place, this incredible person whose face rivaled
that of an angel and who had the spirit of a tiger residing within him; cruel to have sent him down
to Jungkook too prematurely, at a time when he had been blinded by greed and lust and wrath, too
far gone in his position as leader of the Yong Jegug to see the miracle that Taehyung really was.

His gaze lands on different features of Taehyung’s face, savoring his beauty: the freckle on the tip
of his nose, his long lashes, the tempting curve of his lips…

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, that he is not worthy to kiss Taehyung but he finds himself
unconsciously leaning towards him anyways, slowly, carefully, giving Taehyung plenty of time to
pull away if he chooses to. But Taehyung doesn’t turn away or step back, and Jungkook hears him
inhale sharply, notices him tilt his head the barest fraction of an inch－

There’s a knocking sound at the front door and Taehyung startles, stepping back from him and
Jungkook feels like he just might toss whoever interrupted them off the penthouse balcony, this-is-
Sparta style. But it is Christmas, after all, and he feels that he should at least keep the body count to
a minimum in keeping with the spirit of the season. So instead he just heaves a sigh and places
Taehyung’s painting against the wall so that the painted side is hidden from view and goes to
answer the door.

Jimin immediately barrels in, brushing right past him to go straight to Taehyung, his arms open
wide. “Merry Christmas, TaeTae!”

Yoongi, Bogum, Seojoon, and Namjoon trail in after him, all carrying grocery bags full of all the
stuff they’ll need for their Christmas dinner. After greeting him with slightly different variations of
“Merry Christmas, boss,” they all dump the bags on his kitchen counter and rush over to
Taehyung. Jungkook watches in horror as Taehyung is engulfed in hugs by his inner circle－even
Yoongi gives him a small one-arm hug.

He’s seriously starting to rethink his ‘no-murders-on-Christmas’ policy.

“Open my gift, Taehyung sii!” Bogum says eagerly, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.
“Open mine!”

“Um…okay…”

Taehyung sits down on the sofa as Bogum hands him his gift and Jungkook makes his way over,
trying to wade in and take his rightful place next to Taehyung. But Jimin beats him to it, snuggling
right up close to him on the sofa, and wrapping his arms around him, only giving Jungkook a
stubborn glare when he scowls at him. So Jungkook has to settle for standing beside the sofa and
hovering over Taehyung while he opens the Death Note box set from Bogum, the sweatshirt with
the angel wings printed on the back from Seojoon and the Apple watch from Namjoon.

Taehyung thanks everyone profusely the entire time he’s opening the gifts, seeming bashful at
being the center of attention and when Jimin dumps a small pile of presents in his lap that are all
from him, Taehyung starts to protest.

“Jimin, we promised each other no gifts－”

“So I lied. Don’t worry, you can make it up to me on my birthday. Just open them for Christ’s
sake.”

So Taehyung, still looking a bit embarrassed, opens Jimin’s presents which include a bright blue
artist’s smock and a red beret, a small box full of Taehyung’s favorite candy and snacks, a one-year
membership to the Seoul Museum of Art, (“That one’s from me,” Yoongi says hastily. “I mean, I
paid for it. Merry Christmas.”), and a snow globe. Taehyung goes quiet as he examines the small
globe which is in the shape of a silver bird cage with a snow white dove suspended inside.

“I don’t know if it’s in bad taste or not,” Jimin says, sounding a bit worried. “But I just thought it
was a nice reminder of how we first met－”

But then Taehyung grabs him in a fierce hug, holding onto him for a few long seconds and Jimin,
not saying anything else, hugs him back. The members of the Yong Jegug look away, giving them
some privacy and Jungkook looks away too, unable to help the small tug of jealousy he feels at
seeing Taehyung hug Jimin like that.

“Oh, this last one’s from Jin,” Namjoon says, handing Taehyung the final present under the tree
once he and Jimin have broken apart.

“Thank you.” Taehyung takes the present, starts to open it and then looks around, frowning
slightly. “Wait, where is Jin?”

“Oh, he’s on his way,” Yoongi says casually. “He just needed to go get something. He said he
might be a bit late and that you could go ahead and open the gift from him, he doesn’t mind.”

Looking puzzled, Taehyung unwraps the gift and smiles when he sees it’s a cookbook. “Korean
Food Made Simple,” he murmurs, looking at the cover. “That’s awesome.”

“We can have cooking nights,” Jimin says, looking over his shoulder as Taehyung flips through the
pages. “Ooh, spicy stir-fried pork, that sounds yummy…”

“Uh, speaking of cooking,” Seojoon says, catching Jungkook’s eye. “Maybe we should get started
on the dinner prep, boss? Jin did say the earlier the better.”

“But none of us know what we’re doing though,” Namjoon says. “Jin’s the only one of us who
actually knows his way around the kitchen.”

“Hey, I fucking resent that,” Yoongi pipes up. “I can cook.”

“You can make eggs and kimchi fried rice and that’s about it,” Jimin says dryly. He glances at
Taehyung, smirking. “That’s the only reason he takes me out to dinner so often. To save himself
the time and embarrassment.”

“You know, I don’t hear you complaining when I take you out to La Yeon three times a week－”

Yoongi and Jimin’s argument is interrupted by yet another knock on the door and Namjoon goes to
answer it, letting in Jin who is carrying a large gift-wrapped box.

Taehyung smiles when he sees him. “Merry Christmas, Jin. Thanks for the cookbook, it’s super
thoughtful of you.”

“Merry Christmas, Taehyung-ssi,” Jin says warmly. “Glad you like it.” He comes over to the sofa
and carefully sets the box down in Taehyung’s lap. “Last little gift here for you. Not from me, it’s
from Jungkook, I just went to go pick it up－”

“It’s from all of us, actually,” Jungkook says, glancing around at his inner circle and shrugging. “It
was kind of a group effort, after all.”

Taehyung looks curiously at the box in his lap, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline when it
wiggles slightly. He tentatively lifts the lid off and gasps when he sees what’s inside. There’s a
soft little ‘yip’ and Taehyung lifts the Pomeranian puppy out of the box, his face breaking out into
a wide smile.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, cradling the puppy close to his chest, staring down at it. He glances up
at Jungkook, his eyes shining. “I’ve always wanted a dog.” Then he starts to cry.

Alarmed by this reaction, Jungkook looks around at the other members of the Yong Jegug to see if
anyone else is worried about the fact that Taehyung has promptly burst into tears upon receiving a
puppy for Christmas. But they’re all beaming at Taehyung, seemingly delighted as the puppy licks
at the tears coursing down his face.

Jin catches his eye and winks at him. “It’s a good reaction, trust me,” he says in a low voice. “I’ve
got all the other pet supplies still waiting in the SUV, we should probably bring them upstairs…”

So Jungkook and the rest of his inner circle troop down to the parking garage and cart up the bag
of puppy chow, the little dog bed made out of fleece, the puppy play pen and various other pet
things－leashes, chew toys, pee pads, and even a tiny little winter coat.

By the time they get everything in the penthouse, Taehyung and Jimin have picked a name for the
puppy and dubbed him ‘Yeontan’ on account of his black fur. They sit on the floor with him, Jimin
taking multiple pictures on his phone while Taehyung cuddles Yeontan in his arms and coos at
him, showing him all his new toys.

Jungkook would have liked to join in too but Jin has herded all of them into the penthouse kitchen
and started issuing orders for their Christmas meal prep－it’s the first time any of them have
attempted to make a full turkey dinner by themselves so Jungkook is quite happy to cede control to
Jin, who is the only one of them who actually knows how to cook.

Still, as he peels potatoes and chops up carrots, Jungkook can’t help keep his eyes from straying
over to the living area where Taehyung is playing with Yeontan, a huge smile lighting up his entire
face. God, if he could make Taehyung smile like that every day, he’d be satisfied. Maybe he
should get Taehyung another puppy. Or two. Hell, maybe he should go ahead and get Taehyung a
hundred puppies－

“Awww, look at that! He peed on his little pee pad, that’s so cute…”

Or maybe not.

Still, Jungkook can’t shake the feeling that if he dedicated the rest of his days to making Taehyung
smile, he’d live a very worthwhile life indeed.

Taehyung sits on the sofa with Jimin, cradling a sleeping Yeontan in his arms, feeling a warm glow
in his chest as he stares down at the little puppy. He wonders if this is how new mothers feel when
they hold their babies for the first time. They’ve been playing with him for hours now, trying to
teach him the basics of fetch, feeding him treats, and going into raptures of ecstasy when Jimin put
his little winter coat on him to see what it looked like.

But now they’ve tired the poor pup out and he’s snoozing away in Taehyung’s arms, resting his
furry head on his chest. Even though he and Jimin have both taken a million pictures and videos of
him already, Taehyung can hardly tear his eyes away from Yeontan. A dog of his very own…how
did Jungkook know? He doesn’t remember mentioning it to him, that ever since he was a little kid,
he had longed for a dog but was wise enough never to pester his mother for one－he knew they
couldn’t afford it. But whenever they went out to the park, Taehyung always tried to pet each and
every single dog they came across, learn their names, ask if they knew any tricks. There had been
one in particular when he was five, a great lumbering Great Dane named Suk who greeted him by
slobbering all over his face and knew how to play dead. He doesn’t know what happened to Suk.
One day his owner had just stopped showing up to the park. No more Suk.

“He’s got the angriest little eyebrows,” Jimin says, gazing at Yeontan. “He’s the tiniest, angriest
little runt I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“Aww, he’s not angry, that’s just his resting bitch face. Looks a lot like yours, actually.”

“Shut up, brat.”

Taehyung laughs softly, stroking a gentle finger over Yeontan’s fur. “Did you know?” Taehyung
asks quietly. “Like, did you know Jungkook was planning on getting a puppy for me?”

“Yeah, I knew,” Jimin says coolly. “I heard it from Yoongi first, he mentioned that Jungkook was
talking about getting you a dog for Christmas. But come on, Tae,” he goes on, glancing over at the
kitchen where Jungkook and his gang are putting the finishing touches on their turkey dinner, “just
because he got you a puppy doesn’t make him deserving of you. All these gifts and stuff…” he
waves a hand at the unwrapped presents still underneath the tree, “don’t you think it’s a bit
manipulative on his part? Like he’s trying to bribe you into liking him?”

Taehyung looks at all the presents Jungkook had gotten for him, at the designer clothes and the
perfume and the art books. He glances down at the gold tiger bracelet he’s still wearing on his
wrist, at the sleeping puppy in his arms. He can see what Jimin is saying but the gifts don’t feel like
a bribe. If anything, Jungkook’s overwhelming generosity feels more like he’s trying to make up to
him for something. Or he’s trying to express some sort of affection he might feel for him and
spending obscene amounts of money on him is the only way he knows how to do that.

He looks over at Jungkook who is currently occupied with slicing up some oranges for an orange-
and-pomegranate salad that Jin had instructed him to make. He’s wearing a white shirt today, just
like he was wearing last night, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the snaking lines of his
dragon tattoo on his right arm. There’s a slight frown line on his forehead as he concentrates on
cutting up the orange, his movements slow and deliberate. As if he’s a bit unsure, a little bit out of
his element in the kitchen when he usually exudes confidence in every other aspect of his life－
particularly the bedroom. It does something funny to his stomach, seeing Jungkook like this, makes
him want to get out his phone and take a picture of him, capture him permanently in this moment.

Taehyung sighs. “I don’t think the gifts are a bribe, Jimin. And you can think that if you want but
can we please not get into this discussion on Christmas? I don’t feel like arguing with you right
now.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow, looking like he wants to do exactly that and start arguing with him but
then he shrugs, looking away from him. “Fine, I won’t say anything else about it. Just think about
what I said.” Before Taehyung can respond to that, Jimin calls over to the kitchen. “You guys want
help or anything?”
“Nah, it’s almost ready,” Jin replies, hovering over Namjoon while he stirs the gravy. “Just give us
a few more minutes.”

Taehyung has noticed that Jin and Namjoon have stuck fairly close together while they’ve been in
the kitchen, Jin seeming to pay an inordinate amount of attention to what Namjoon is doing, giving
him gentle instructions while he tends to bark orders at Seojoon and Bogum. He doesn’t know if it
means anything but if it does mean something, he’s rooting for them.

His eyes stray to Jungkook again who is still slicing the oranges for the salad. Taehyung hesitates
for a moment and then gets up from the sofa, gently laying the still-sleeping Yeontan down on his
dog bed in the play pen and wanders over to the kitchen, trying to appear as casual as possible. He
sidles up to the counter, standing next to Jungkook, watching as he cuts up the orange, his slices all
a bit uneven.

“You know,” Taehyung says lightly, “for a crime boss, your knife-handling skills are atrocious.”

Jungkook chuckles, reaching for another orange. “Well, if I was trying to stab this orange to death,
it’d be a different story.”

“Maybe you should have used blood oranges instead.”

“Maybe you should shut up if you’re going to make such godawful puns like that.” He hands
Taehyung an orange slice and Taehyung automatically takes it, popping it into his mouth, the tart
citrus bursting on his tongue.

“I, uh, don’t think I really thanked you,” he says once he’s chewed and swallowed, fidgeting
nervously with the cuff of his sweatshirt. “For everything.”

Jungkook stops cutting the orange, regarding him with his dark eyes and then he leans in close,
whispering in Taehyung’s ear, his voice a sensual purr. “You can thank me later, baby.”

Taehyung feels himself blush and quickly grabs another orange slice off the cutting board and eats
it, just to give himself something to do with his hands. It shouldn’t make his heart hammer in his
chest when Jungkook calls him ‘baby,’ shouldn’t reduce his knees to jelly. It shouldn’t but it does.

Jungkook pulls back from him, a slight smirk on his face and Taehyung quickly looks away to see
Jimin wander into the kitchen, a soft smile on his face as he pulls Yoongi away from the counter
and into the living area.

“Come here,” Taehyung hears him say, “come kiss me under the mistletoe…”

“Chim, there is no mistletoe.”

“Just pretend then…” Jimin says, looping his arms around Yoongi’s neck and kissing him.

Taehyung watches as Yoongi pulls Jimin closer by the waist, the two of them in their own little
world, kissing each other as if the rest of them aren’t even there, as if sharing sweet, romantic
mistletoe kisses when there wasn’t even any mistletoe to be found was the most natural thing in the
world for them.

He chances a glance at Jungkook and finds that he’s staring over at Yoongi and Jimin too, his
knife hovering over the flesh of the orange, apparently forgotten. Then he looks at Taehyung for
the briefest of seconds but when they make eye contact, Jungkook drops his gaze, going back to
slicing the orange.
But not before Taehyung sees the naked longing laid bare on his face.

“You don’t have to supervise,” Jungkook says gruffly, still not looking at him. “It’s not like I’m
about to slice a finger off.”

Taehyung, stung by Jungkook’s tone, steps away from the counter only to be accosted by Bogum,
grinning cheerily at him and holding a stack of plates.

“Hey, Taehyung sii! You want to help me set the table?”

Taehyung agrees, more to put some distance between himself and Jungkook than anything else and
he ends up arranging most of the plates and glasses himself while Bogum follows him around the
dining table, talking his ear off about the latest episode of Haikyu!! he had just watched.

Finally, all the plates and food are on the table and everyone gathers to take their seats, Bogum
making a last-ditch effort to pull Taehyung’s chair out for him but Jungkook beats him to it,
waiting for Taehyung to sit down before taking his place at the head of the table adjacent to him.
Jimin sits across from Taehyung right beside Yoongi, a knowing smile on his face as Seojoon and
Bogum have a five-second scuffle/argument over who gets to take the remaining seat next to
Taehyung. Seojoon wins this battle by the simple expedient of plopping down in the seat and
refusing to budge. Bogum looks like he wants to argue but backs down once he sees the poisonous
look Jungkook is giving him.

“You mind carving the turkey, Jin?” Jungkook says in a long-suffering voice. “I feel like you’re
the only one mature enough to refrain from playing musical chairs.”

“Sure, boss.”

Once the turkey is carved and everyone has food on their plates, they all dig in, Jimin and
Taehyung doing most of the talking while the members of the Yong Jegug stuff slices of roast
turkey in their faces. Taehyung can’t blame them; Jin hadn’t let anyone else near the turkey,
overseeing the cooking of it himself and, as a result, the meat is juicy and delicious, complete with
thick, rich gravy poured over top.

It’s only when Taehyung starts in on the vegetables that he notices something off. Jungkook’s
salad is quite tasty but the roast potatoes, cooked by Seojoon, have come out a little bit soggy but
that’s not the end of the world. He notices Jimin take one bite of them, make a face, and then swipe
at his lips with his napkin and Taehyung suspects he spit them out. But Taehyung, not wanting to
hurt Seojoon’s feelings, soldiers on, eating most of the potatoes on his plate, taking sips of water in
between each bite. But when he pops one of Bogum’s Brussels sprouts into his mouth, he pauses,
chewing thoughtfully. They taste…sugary. Like, really really sugary.

Jimin coughs. “Wow, these Brussels sprouts certainly are…sweet. Is it supposed to be like a
candied sweet potato thing?”

“No,” Jin says slowly, glancing at Bogum. He tries one of the Brussels sprouts and grimaces. “Oh,
for god’s sake, Bogum, you used sugar instead of salt!”

“Oh my god, they look like the same goddamn thing, how am I supposed to be able to tell the
difference?”

“By tasting!” Jin exclaims. “By tasting them, you idiot－”

“Uh, you guys might not want to eat the carrots,” Yoongi says, his mouth full. “I think they’re a bit
undercooked…” He chews and there’s a distinct crunching noise.
Taehyung glances down at the carrots still on his plate and then looks up at Jimin, who is biting
down on his lip, his round face turning bright pink, looking like he’s about to explode at any
moment.

Taehyung shakes his head. “Don’t laugh,” he mouths at Jimin. But there’s laughter bubbling up
inside him too and he has to clamp his lips shut to keep it from escaping.

“I can’t fucking believe you guys!” Jin yells. “How many times did I go over everything with you!
I gave you the simplest things to do－”

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t spent the entire afternoon flirting with Namjoon and actually fucking
helped us－”

“We weren’t flirting! He was in charge of the stuffing and the gravy so of course we were working
closely together－”

“Oh my god, you are so full of shit, Jin－”

And that’s when Jungkook bursts out laughing.

Everyone stops shouting and turns to see Jungkook with his head thrown back, howling with
laughter, so overcome that he is literally slapping his knee. It’s the first time Taehyung has ever
heard him laugh like this, not a chuckle or a snicker but a real, full-body, can’t-even-fucking-
breathe kind of laugh. He thinks it might be the most adorable, dorkiest sound he’s ever heard in
his life.

This sets him off and he can’t help but giggle uncontrollably, covering his mouth with his hands as
he shakes with silent laughter. And then he hears Jimin’s distinctive bubbly laugh and he watches
as his friend flails around on his chair, nearly falling off of it as he convulses with hysterics.

“You fucking idiots!” Jimin shrieks, tears streaming down his face. “You absolute
fucking morons!”

And then Jin starts laughing too, followed by Namjoon and pretty soon everyone at the table is
practically crying with mirth, hands banging on the table, rattling the plates, Yoongi burying his
face in his hands as he shakes with quiet laughter, Jimin crying out, “I’m gonna pee my pants!”

“Fuck this,” Jungkook says once they’ve all gotten themselves under a semblance of control.
“We’re not eating this shit. We’re ordering some fucking takeout.”

They order up some fried chicken from a local restaurant along with some fries and soft drinks and
they all laze around in the living area, munching on the greasy food, sipping cans of Coke and
taking turns feeding Yeontan tiny bites of chicken. Taehyung ends up sitting next to Jungkook on
the sofa, finding himself nestling back against Jungkook’s chest once they’re done eating, ignoring
Jimin’s disapproving look as he watches Seojoon attempt to teach Yeontan how to sit, holding
pieces of chicken over his fluffy little head.

“All right, you can all fuck off now,” Jungkook says about an hour later, once they’ve finished
cleaning up and are all lounging around the living area once again, the members of the Yong Jegug
taking turns cuddling Yeontan. “I think you’ve done enough fucking damage for one night.” His
tone isn’t harsh, more sarcastic than anything, and Taehyung can’t help but feel a small thrill of
anticipation at the thought of being left alone with Jungkook.

After all giving Taehyung one last hug, Jungkook’s inner circle troops out of the penthouse, Jin
still gently scolding Seojoon, Bogum, and Yoongi about the disastrous dinner (but not Namjoon).
Jimin envelops him in a fierce hug, whispering, “Remember what I said,” before following Yoongi
out, promising to call him tomorrow and maybe see about taking Yeontan out for a walk.

And then Jungkook closes the door behind them and they’re alone.

Heat blooms in his lower stomach as Jungkook slowly walks toward him, his gaze raking over
Taehyung’s body, intense and wanting. “I think I’d like my Christmas present now,” he says softly.

Taehyung gulps, looking away and nodding at Yeontan, who is snoozing away in his play pen,
curled up to one of his stuffed toys. “Do you think he’ll be okay out here by himself?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Jungkook replies. He takes Taehyung’s hand, leading him to the bedroom.
“Come on.”

All Taehyung can focus on is the feeling of Jungkook’s hand in his, how warm it is and he lets
himself be pulled along to Jungkook’s bedroom, feeling as if he’s not even walking but floating
along behind Jungkook, the sensation making him slightly lightheaded. But all too soon, Jungkook
lets go of his hand once they’re in his room, closing the door behind them and picking up the box
of lingerie on the bed and handing it to Taehyung.

Taehyung takes it from him, attempting a smile as he steps back towards the en suite bathroom.
“So…I’ll just go get changed, I guess.”

Jungkook nods so Taehyung turns away, clutching the box to his chest but then he feels
Jungkook’s hand on his arm and he faces him again.

“Tae…you really don’t have to put it on if you don’t want to.”

“N-no, it’s okay,” Taehyung stammers, stepping back from him. “I don’t mind. Really.”

He escapes to the bathroom, swinging the door shut and dumping the box on the counter, heaving
in a breath. He stares down at the silky white slip, the black robe and stockings, trying to get a grip
on himself. He’s had sex with Jungkook before, countless times by now, it’s just business as usual.
So why is he so fucking nervous right now?

He deliberately takes his time getting ready, brushing his teeth, scrubbing the bristles over his
tongue－not that they’ll be kissing but there’s probably going to be some heavy panting involved
and he’s pretty sure Jungkook doesn’t want him blowing his fried chicken breath in his face. But
maybe Jungkook will fuck him from behind anyways and it won’t matter but still, there’s a part of
him that wants to feel…clean. Fresh. He doesn’t really know why he feels that way but it seems
kind of sleazy to don this brand new lingerie while sporting nasty ass chicken breath.

He takes off the sweater and sweatpants he’s been wearing all day, tugging the slip over his head,
pulling on the lace panties, rolling the stockings up－at least there’s no garter belt to deal with this
time. He doesn’t think he’d be able to do up the straps anyways because his hands are starting to
shake. Maybe between the Brussels sprouts and the Coke, he’d had too much sugar this evening.
Yes, that was probably the reason his heart feels like it’s about to bang right out of his chest.

He slips into the robe, turning around and looking over his shoulder at the dragon embroidered on
the back. Was it some sort of honor, Jungkook gifting him with something that featured the Yong
Jegug’s emblem? Or was it the mob boss’s way of staking some sort of claim on him, marking
Taehyung as his territory?

A bribe…he’s manipulating you…

Maybe Jimin is right and all of the gifts, the generosity Jungkook had shown him today was
nothing more than him wanting to bend Taehyung to his will or a reward for being a good little
whore because he no longer snarled and snapped at Jungkook. Maybe these past few weeks, of
Jungkook being considerate and taking care of him and holding him in his arms as Taehyung’s
walls crumbled down around him had been nothing more than getting Taehyung to lower his
defences just so he would be more compliant, more obedient.

In his heart, he doesn’t believe it, that it was all an act on Jungkook’s part, that there’s no way he
could fake something like that for weeks on end. But there’s another voice whispering in his mind,
a hissing, cruel voice that tells him that it’s simply not possible for Jungkook to care about him in
any way. That once the contract is up and he’s used Taehyung to his satisfaction, Jungkook will
dismiss him with nothing more than a nod of thanks and a cold smile. It’s been fun, kid. Take care.
Don’t let the door hit that fat ass of yours on the way out.

He doesn’t know what to think anymore, or how to feel about Jungkook. All he knows is that he
feels as if it’s his first time all over again, that he’s nothing more than a clueless, naive virgin,
about to hand himself over to Jungkook and allow him to have his way with him.

But whereas his auction night at the Bird Cage had been full of dread and fear and nauseating
panic, right now he feels a sense of tingling anticipation throughout his entire body, a rush of
fluttering butterflies in his stomach. He spritzes on some of the perfume Jungkook had bought for
him, fluffing up his hair and giving himself one last appraisal in the mirror. He thinks he looks
okay. He thinks Jungkook will like his ‘gift.’

He eyes his lip balm sitting there on the bathroom counter, hesitates for a second, and then swipes
some on. Doesn’t mean anything, I just don’t want them to be dry…

He inhales a deep breath, adjusting the robe before finally putting a trembling hand on the door
knob and turning it.

Breathe…just breathe…

He opens the door and his reminder to himself is completely wasted on him because the air leaves
his lungs as he takes in Jungkook’s bedroom. Candles are scattered across every flat surface,
lending the room a dim yellow glow. Jungkook’s back is to him as he lights a few more candles
sitting on the night stand, his black hair shining with reflected firelight.

“Uh…what’s with the candles?” His voice comes out in a nervous squeak and he clears his throat,
hoping Jungkook didn’t notice.

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders as he lights the last candle, starts to turn around. “Just wanted some
ambiance－” But he stops short when he sees Taehyung still hovering in the doorway, his eyes
widening a fraction.

“Wow,” he breathes, his gaze not on Taehyung’s lingerie-clad body but on his face. “You look
beautiful.”

It takes all of Taehyung’s inner strength and willpower not to burst into tears right there. Beautiful,
Jungkook thinks I’m beautiful…

“Come here,” Jungkook says softly, holding his hand out. Taehyung goes up to him, his knees
knocking together as he stands in front of Jungkook, taking him in, the flickering candlelight
making his skin glow, sparking twin flames in his eyes. There’s a dark sensuality to him that makes
Taehyung feel weak and helpless, and yet safe and secure at the same time. In that moment, he’d
do anything that Jungkook asked of him even if he’s afraid of the requests Jungkook might have in
mind.

Don’t let anyone else but me touch you…No, I won’t…

Chain yourself to my bed, let me fuck you for days on end…Yes, make me your slave…

Stay with me. Be mine forever, Taehyung…I’ll stay, Jungkook, I promise…

I promise.

Jungkook reaches up, slipping Taehyung’s robe off his shoulders, letting it fall unceremoniously to
the floor. He hooks his fingers in the straps of the silk slip and tugs it down Taehyung’s body
where it pools at his feet so he’s left wearing nothing but the black lace panties and thigh high
stockings.

“H-hey,” Taehyung says nervously, feigning a laugh. “You just dropped your Christmas present on
the floor.”

But Jungkook shakes his head, circling his arms around Taehyung’s waist. “I’m unwrapping my
present, actually,” he says in a low voice. “You’re my gift, Tae…”

He leans in, nuzzling Taehyung’s neck, pressing a line of gentle kisses along his throat and
Taehyung whimpers as he feels Jungkook’s lips skim along the small scars on his neck, his
collarbone.

“Take my shirt off,” Jungkook whispers.

“W-what?”

“Unbutton my shirt,” Jungkook repeats, taking Taehyung’s hands in his and placing them on his
chest. “Take it off me, Tae…”

It’s slow work, undoing the buttons on Jungkook’s shirt because his hands are shaking so badly
now, from nerves and arousal and Taehyung doesn’t know what else. Plus, Jungkook is still
mouthing along his throat, his warm hands wandering over the lines of Taehyung’s back, the
curves of his ass.

“You’re trembling,” Jungkook rasps, placing a kiss underneath Taehyung’s ear and Taehyung can
hear the teasing smile in his voice.

“I’m just…ah…t-trying to－” But Taehyung shuts up because now his voice is trembling too.
Which is just a dead fucking giveaway of how nervous he is. Hastily, he gets the last button
undone and clumsily shoves Jungkook’s shirt down his shoulders and Jungkook casually shrugs
out of it.

He only gets a second to admire Jungkook’s muscular chest because, without warning, Jungkook is
scooping Taehyung up into his arms, causing him to let out a startled yelp.

“Easy there, tiger,” Jungkook says, grinning at him. “I got you.”

“Jesus,” Taehyung says, automatically looping his arms around Jungkook’s neck. “The bed’s right
there, you don’t have to carry me to it.” It’s true－if they were any closer to Jungkook’s bed right
now, they’d be standing right on top of it.
“I like holding you like this.” Jungkook’s smile softens but doesn’t fade completely. “You feel so
good in my arms, Tae.”

And the way he says it, so seriously, so calmly, as if he’s stating a simple fact, makes Taehyung’s
throat tighten. He swallows thickly and for a few seconds, they stay like that, Jungkook holding
him up close against his chest and Taehyung allowing him to. And he can’t help it－he steals a
glance at Jungkook’s lips.

But then Jungkook is turning around, laying Taehyung gently down on the bed, climbing on top of
him, covering Taehyung’s body with his own. It’s almost too much, feeling the weight of
Jungkook on top of him, being so close, cocooned by his body. He inhales a lungful of air as if he’s
about to submerge himself in water. That’s what it feels like, almost. Like he’s on the verge of
drowning in Jungkook.

Jungkook gazes down at him, a slight frown on his face. “You okay, baby?”

Taehyung nods jerkily, trying to compose himself. “Mm hmm.” Not knowing what to do with his
hands, he fists them in the sheets in an attempt to anchor himself, holding on tight.

Jungkook leans down, kissing his neck again, nipping at the soft skin there before starting to head
lower, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “You’re so sexy, Tae,” Jungkook murmurs
against his skin. “God, you’re so fucking sexy.”

Taehyung gasps as Jungkook’s tongue flicks over one of his nipples, unable to help from
squirming underneath him as he proceeds to suck Taehyung’s nipple into his mouth, lapping at it
with his tongue, gently biting down with his teeth. He’s never had anyone’s mouth there before
and it sends a jolt of hot electricity straight to his cock, causing it to twitch against the lace of his
panties.

“Fuck, you like that?” Jungkook growls, looking up at him and blowing a stream of cool air against
the hardened bud. “You like it when I suck on your perky little nipples, Tae?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to say yes, yes, I like it, please more but all he manages is a moan when
Jungkook lowers his mouth to the other one, sending another crackle of heat to his aching cock.

“So sensitive,” Jungkook whispers, travelling down his body again, brushing his thumbs over
Taehyung’s nipples as he kisses a path down his trembling stomach. “Fuck, Tae, you drive me
fucking crazy…”

Taehyung is inclined to echo the sentiment, that Jungkook drives him crazy but he doesn’t trust
himself to be able to form a coherent sentence at the moment. The words that jumble around in his
head are yes and please and more, swirling around with Jungkook’s name but he doesn’t even trust
himself to say that intelligibly. So he just tightens his grip on the sheets, biting down on the
whimper that tries to escape him when Jungkook sits up, trailing his fingers over Taehyung’s cock
through the lace of his panties before hooking them in the waistband and starting to tug them
down.

“Lift your hips,” Jungkook says and Taehyung obeys, raising his hips off the bed to allow
Jungkook to slide his panties off. Now he’s completely naked except for the thigh highs, his cock
arched hard and leaking against his stomach, smearing precum on his skin. He resists the urge to
cover himself because that would be silly, Jungkook has seen him naked before, loads of times. So
why does he feel so exposed right now?

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Tae,” Jungkook says softly, gazing down at him. “I’m so fucking
hard for you right now.” He palms at his cock through his trousers, rubbing his hand over his bulge
and the sight is so erotic that Taehyung slants his gaze away, feeling too shy to stare directly at
him.

It’s then he notices the bottle of cherry-flavoured lube on the night stand; Jungkook must have
taken it out of the box already. “Do you want me to use that on you?” he asks timidly, thinking that
Jungkook wants him to use the lube while he gives Jungkook a blowjob. He’ll admit he’s intrigued
by what it might taste like but he’s never been turned off by Jungkook’s natural taste. Quite likes it
actually.

Not that he’s ever told Jungkook that.

“No, baby,” Jungkook says, “I thought I’d use it on you.”

Taehyung’s eyes snap back to Jungkook, his breath catching in his throat. “On m-me?”

“Mm hmm.” Jungkook’s lips quirk up, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “Turn around.”

Turn around?

With only a vague idea of where this might be going, Taehyung slowly turns over, laying flat on
his stomach and propping his head up on the pillow, holding it tight. He lets out a quiet groan as he
feels Jungkook’s hands squeezing his ass, running his thumb along the cleft, spreading his cheeks
open.

“So pretty, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, “so pretty and it’s all for me…”

Yes, you can have all of me, I’m yours…

Jungkook leans over and picks up the bottle of lube, sending a shiver of anticipation down his
spine as he kisses his way down Taehyung’s back, licking at the sensitive skin just above his ass.

“Wh-what are you planning on doing, e-exactly?” Taehyung asks, peeking over his shoulder at
Jungkook, who is now planting teasing kisses all over his butt cheeks.

He feels a warm puff of air on his ass as Jungkook huffs a laugh. “I thought that would have been
obvious, Tae.” He sinks his teeth into Taehyung’s flesh, biting down gently and Taehyung gasps.
“I’m going to get you nice and wet with this cherry lube, baby…tease you with my tongue for a
little bit before I fuck you…”

Taehyung feels his cheeks flame at Jungkook’s words and he buries his face in the pillow,
whimpering softly. God, just the mere thought of having Jungkook’s mouth in that spot was
enough to make him dizzy with a heady combination of embarrassment and lust. It just seemed
so…kinky.

“Does that make you feel dirty, baby?” Jungkook says, his voice low and guttural. “Thinking of
my tongue licking at your tight little hole?”

Taehyung feels as if his heart has jumped into his throat, blocking off his vocal chords so all he can
do is nod, his face still smushed into the pillow.

“Don’t worry, baby, it’ll feel good,” Jungkook whispers and Taehyung hears the snick of the lube
bottle being opened. “I want to make you feel good, Tae…”

Taehyung flinches slightly as he feels the cold liquid being drizzled over his hole, tenses as
Jungkook spreads his cheeks further apart.

“Such a tasty-looking cherry,” Jungkook rasps, his warm breath fanning across Taehyung’s skin.
“So fucking tempting…”

The first warm brush of Jungkook’s tongue against him sends Taehyung’s head spinning, a needy
moan tumbling out of his throat, muffled by the pillow. After a few teasing licks, Jungkook begins
to lap at his hole in earnest, his tongue circling around his entrance before probing deeper, spearing
into him, making every nerve in Taehyung’s body go haywire with overwhelming pleasure. He
arches back, his head popping off the pillow as he cries out, shamelessly humping his ass back
against Jungkook’s face, desperate for more, more, more. And, god, he does feel dirty, his entire
body burning with the shame of it but he doesn’t care because he’s too far gone at this point, he’ll
let Jungkook do anything he wants now, he’ll gladly be his whore, his slut, just as long as
Jungkook doesn’t stop…

He gasps as Jungkook works a finger inside of him, brushing right up against his prostate as he
keeps his mouth pressed to Taehyung’s hole, fluttering his tongue over the entrance while he
moves his finger slowly in and out. Taehyung writhes underneath him, grinding his cock against
the sheets, feeling his orgasm start to build, the pleasure nearly unbearable. Then Jungkook inserts
a second finger and Taehyung lets out a sob as he’s pushed nearly to the brink of delirium. It’s too
much and not enough, he wants to come, but he wants more, he wants all of Jungkook, filling him
up, stretching him wide open, pounding into him…

“How’s it feel, Tae?” Jungkook says hoarsely, at last coming up for air as he continues to fuck
Taehyung’s hole with his fingers. “You want me to make you come?”

“F-fuck yes, Jungkook, but not like this, please I want…I want…”

“What do you want, baby?” Jungkook sinks his teeth into Taehyung’s skin, biting down harder this
time. “Tell me.”

“W-want your cock,” Taehyung whines. “Want you to f-fuck me.”

“Good,” Jungkook says. “Because that’s what I want too.” He carefully removes his fingers and
Taehyung feels his hole clench around nothing and he nearly breaks down at the horribly empty
feeling and he pushes back against Jungkook, desperate to be filled up. He expects Jungkook to
take him from behind but then he feels himself being flipped over onto his back again, Jungkook
gazing down at him as he unzips his fly, and pushes his pants down just enough to let his cock
spring free.

Taehyung can’t help but drink in the sight of Jungkook above him, the lines of his sculpted chest
emphasized by the glow of candlelight, his thick cock curving back against his stomach, the head
of it brushing against the planes of his abs. He licks his lips, looking back up at Jungkook’s face
and something stutters in his chest when he sees the look in Jungkook’s eyes. Gazing down at
Taehyung with a soft kind of reverence, as if he’s really taking him in for the first time, really
seeing him.

Jungkook doesn’t tear his eyes away from Taehyung’s face as he lubes himself up, gently
spreading Taehyung’s legs a bit wider as he settles his body between them, propping himself up on
his elbows as he hovers over Taehyung.

“You ready, baby?”

“Y-yes,” Taehyung replies, placing his hands on Jungkook’s biceps, feeling like he needs
something to hold onto, and Jungkook’s arms are reassuringly solid. “I’m ready.”

Their gazes stay locked as Jungkook slowly pushes inside him, Taehyung whimpering at the
stretch, the fullness, tightening his grip on Jungkook’s arms when he bottoms out, the tip of his
cock just brushing against his sweet spot.

And then he starts to move but not hard and fast like Taehyung expects but slowly, deliberately, the
exquisite drag of Jungkook’s cock along his inner walls making Taehyung feel as if he’s falling
upwards, tumbling in a freefall towards the heavens.

He moans softly, gazing up at Jungkook, unable to look away from the soft smile on Jungkook’s
face, his lips still slick with lube, a hypnotic look in his eyes.

“Feel good, baby?”

Taehyung nods mutely, completely spellbound by Jungkook moving over him.

“Come on, baby, tell me…tell me how good my cock feels inside you…”

“G-god, Jungkook, it feels so good…feels so good inside me…nice and b-big…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

Jungkook reaches up, brushing a lock of hair away from Taehyung’s face, his thumb skimming
over Taehyung’s cheekbone. “Fuck, Tae, you look so fucking sexy right now, you have no idea…
you always look so fucking beautiful when I fuck you…

Taehyung bites down on his lip as Jungkook continues to thrust into him, soft waves of pleasure
coursing through him. They’ve never done it like this before, so slowly, so…intimately. Not since
the night at the mansion but it still feels different somehow, more profound. Jungkook’s words are
those of a lover and, even though he’s fucking him slow, Taehyung feels as if his heart is about to
pound out of his chest.

“Fuck, so good, baby,” Jungkook whispers. “You feel so fucking good…so fucking perfect…”

Taehyung whimpers, raising his hips up, desperate for more. “Harder,” he pleads. “Please,
Jungkook, fuck me harder.”

Something flickers over Jungkook’s face, an expression that is both protective and full of feral lust
and he starts to thrust faster, making Taehyung cry out. “Yeah?” he pants. “Is this what you want,
Tae? You want me to fuck you until you come?”

“Oh god, yes…”

Jungkook leans down, burying his face in Taehyung’s neck as he slams into him, breath hot against
his skin. “Fuck, baby, tell me you love it…”

“F-fuck, Jungkook, I l-love it…love the way you f-fuck me…”

“I know you do, baby…come for me…come for me, Tae…”

Taehyung wraps his arms around Jungkook’s shoulders, clinging to him as his climax builds,
expands, swells within him like a cresting wave, a sob ripping out of his throat as it smashes over
him, through him, his vision going white as his back arches off the bed and he only vaguely
registers Jungkook shuddering above him, is only dimly aware of Jungkook spilling inside him.

Jungkook groans, staying on top of him for a few moments, his face nestled in the crook of
Taehyung’s neck, his body weight pressing Taehyung down into the mattress but he doesn’t mind
at all, finds the heaviness of Jungkook’s body soothing. He nuzzles against Jungkook’s temple,
stroking his fingertips lightly over his back as they both recover from their orgasms, coming back
down to earth.

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathes, “that was amazing.” He pushes himself up on his hands, still hovering
over Taehyung but no longer resting his weight on him. “Good?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, still a bit dazed. “Good.”

But it had been so much more than that.

Jungkook beams down at him, his eyes crinkling up at the corners and Taehyung’s gaze drifts
down to the curve of Jungkook’s smile, his heart hammering in his chest…

He finds his hand reaching up of its own accord to cup Jungkook’s cheek, caressing his warm skin
with his fingers. And he wishes that this had been their first night together, that all the other stuff
that had come before had never happened between them. Because he never would have put that no-
kissing stipulation in his contract if he had experienced something like this with Jungkook on his
auction night.

No kissing on the lips…

But it is Christmas, after all. And Jungkook has been so incredibly generous, so attentive, not just
today but for the past few weeks. One little kiss wouldn’t hurt, right? Just to express his gratitude?

And the truth is, he wants to. He wants to kiss Jungkook.

Gently, he pulls Jungkook down to him, his hand still cupping his cheek, and Jungkook comes
willingly, lowering his head and Taehyung parts his lips, his entire body tingling with anticipation,
their lips only a mere breath apart－

But then Jungkook stops, drawing back from him, turning his face away to press a soft kiss to
Taehyung’s palm. “I should get you cleaned up,” he whispers and then gets up from the bed,
avoiding his eye as he heads into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

A slight chill steals over his body, and he shivers with goosebumps now that Jungkook’s warmth is
no longer pressed against him. He stares at the closed bathroom door, hearing the sink being turned
on.

And it occurs to Taehyung that maybe Jungkook just isn’t interested in kissing him anymore.
Maybe now that Taehyung has offered it willingly, Jungkook no longer wants it because there’s no
more resistance on Taehyung’s part and it wouldn’t be a conquest but something more mutual. And
that would blur the lines between them, maybe turn their relationship into something that it isn’t,
something that Jungkook doesn’t want.

His heart sinks as he remembers the cruel words Jungkook had said to him on the night he had first
come to his penthouse.

This is all I want from you. Not love, not a fucking boyfriend. Just a tight little ass to fuck whenever
I want to. Is that understood?
And Taehyung feels like he does understand. He feels like he understands all too well now.

Jungkook splashes cold water on his face, trying to compose himself, attempting to slow the
thoughts racing through his head.

So close, he had been so close. Taehyung had been underneath him, so beautiful, so perfect and he
had been offering Jungkook a kiss, there was no doubt in his mind about that.

He leans his damp forehead against the mirror, exhaling a shaky breath. But if he did kiss
Taehyung…would it be real? Would Taeyung be kissing him because he wanted to? Or would it
just be some shallow gesture of gratitude, only granting Jungkook a kiss because he felt like he
owed it to Jungkook for buying him a few expensive gifts?

He doesn’t want Taehyung to kiss him out of pity or appreciation or because it’s fucking Christmas
and Taehyung is feeling generous.

If they did kiss, he wants it to be real. He wants it to be real between them so badly.

No kissing on the lips…

Jungkook grips the edge of the sink. That stupid fucking contract still hovers over his head and it’s
because he’s too much of a coward to bring it up, to ask Taehyung just to be with him, to stay with
him because he wants to, not because he’s obligated to.

But even if he didn’t have Taehyung bound to him by the contract, who’s to say he would even
deserve him? After all the things he’s done, not just to Taehyung but throughout his entire life, how
could he ever be the kind of man Taehyung deserved?

He pulls back, staring at his reflection, and for a second he doesn’t see a fully grown man staring
back, but that scared little boy he once was, who had nearly vomited at the sight of a man’s blood
pooling at his feet.

How could a monster like me ever deserve someone as fierce and brave and good as Taehyung?

My little tiger…

Sighing, he grabs a clean washcloth and wets it with warm water, going back out into the bedroom
to find Taehyung still lying there on his back, absently fiddling with the tops of one of his
stockings. Carefully, he kneels between Taehyung’s legs, cleaning him with the washcloth and
when he asks if Taehyung is okay, Taehyung just nods mutely, not looking at him. Once he’s
peeled the stockings off of him and goes around and blows out all of the candles, he returns to bed,
slipping in beside Taehyung and spooning him from behind.

At least there’s this, he thinks as he holds Taehyung close in the darkness, at least I have this with
him…
 He presses a soft kiss to Taehyung’s shoulder, giving his waist a little squeeze. “Merry Christmas,
Tae.”

Taehyung takes Jungkook’s hand, holding onto it tightly, his voice sounding as if it’s laced with
tears as he whispers back, “Merry Christmas, Jungkook.”

Chapter End Notes

Preview for Chapter 11:

Jungkook is just about to drift off to sleep when his phone vibrates on the nightstand,
lighting up with an incoming call. Checking to make sure it hasn’t woken Taehyung
up, Jungkook carefully extricates himself from him and grabs his phone, getting up
from the bed before he answers it.

“Yoongi, this better be fucking important,” he whispers harshly, stepping out into the
living room.

“Boss, we found him.” Yoongi sounds out of breath, his voice strained. “We know
exactly where he is now.”

There’s a ringing noise in Jungkook’s ears and he has to take a second to make sure
he’s still standing upright. “Where?”

“I’m not telling you that over the phone. I’m on my way, I’ll be there in two minutes.”

BIG reveal in the next chapter...

Playlist

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 Chapter 11
Chapter Summary

It's New Year's Eve and Jungkook and Taehyung play a game of 'what if...' - a game
that inevitably leads to 'if only...'

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Taehyung loops his arm through Jungkook’s as they weave through the crowd outside the Coex
center. “I still feel kind of bad about leaving Tannie at home.”

“I know, but he’ll be fine. Jin will look after him. And besides, he probably would have gotten
scared by the fireworks.”

“True…”

It’s New Year’s Eve and Jungkook and Taehyung are wandering around the public square, skirting
past couples and families as they try to find a good spot to watch the fireworks display. Jungkook
had suggested it on a whim this morning and to his surprise, Taehyung had agreed so now, here
they are with five minutes to go until midnight.

It’s just like something a real couple might do.

And Taehyung is wearing his new Balmain coat and Burberry turtleneck sweater that Jungkook
had gotten him for Christmas which he hopes is a good sign. Things had been a little bit weird
between them ever since Christmas day when they had almost kissed. Taehyung has either busied
himself with playing with Yeontan, taking him out for walks with Jimin (accompanied by a guard),
or hidden himself away in his art studio. And Jungkook has been making himself scarce at the
penthouse, giving Taehyung some space, throwing himself into his responsibilities with the Yong
Jegug, ramping up the search for him.

Taehyung still cozies up to Jungkook in bed when they fall asleep together and they had had sex
just the other night. But there had been no candlelight, no whispered intimate words, just Taehyung
straddling him in the darkness, riding him until they both came. It had left Jungkook feeling so
hollow and even though he had held Taehyung in his arms afterward, he had still felt so far away
from him.

But tonight, Taehyung’s arm is looped casually through his and he granted Jungkook a shy smile
when Jungkook had helped him into his coat. So he feels he might have a reason to hope. Maybe
the New Year could ring in a fresh start for them, set them on a better path. He’s never subscribed
to that tiresome cliche of ‘new year, new me’ but he’s thinking, for Taehyung, he’ll make an
exception for this year.

Now if only he could find the courage to say what he needs to say.

“Here’s a good spot,” he says quickly, dragging Taehyung over to a relatively secluded area near
the edge of the square.
“Jungkook, this is right behind a tree.”

“We’re not behind it, we’re standing beside it. Do you really want to be out in the middle of the
crowd when the countdown starts and people start blowing those annoying noisemaker things in
our ears?”

Taehyung glances out at the crush of people milling around the square and shakes his head. “No…
I see your point.” A cold breeze rustles past them and Taehyung shivers, stuffing his hands in the
pockets of his coat, his shoulders hunching up.

“Cold?” Jungkook steps forward, opening his coat and wrapping Taehyung up in it, holding him
close.

“Not anymore,” Taehyung says, resting his gloved hands on Jungkook’s chest, ducking his head
shyly and fiddling with the lapels of Jungkook’s suit jacket.

Jungkook glances cautiously out at the crowd to make sure they’re not attracting any unwanted
attention but most people are staring up at the countdown clock so Jungkook turns back to
Taehyung, pulling him a bit closer. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Taehyung looks up at him for a brief second and then back down at his chest, nodding mutely.

“If we hadn’t met at the Bird Cage…if we had met somewhere else, somewhere more, I don’t
know, normal－”

But Taehyung is already shaking his head, a pained expression on his face. “Jungkook, don’t.
Please, let’s not talk about this, I don’t see the point.”

“Why not? Come on, Tae, just indulge me for a minute. What would you have thought of me if I
walked into the coffee shop where you used to work? And you were behind the counter and I just
ordered a coffee?”

Taehyung gives him an exasperated look. “Well, depending on when it was, I would have been too
young for you.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, just pretend that you’re of age in this scenario. What would you have thought
of me?”

Taehyung slants his gaze away, biting his lip. “I would have thought you were intimidating,” he
says after a few seconds. “And…attractive.” A rosy pink blush blooms on Taehyung’s cheeks but
he goes on, still not meeting Jungkook’s eye. “I probably would have knocked over a stack of lids
or something, I’d be so flustered by you. And I’d get your order wrong. I would have felt shaky
and nervous when I handed you your coffee and…” He pauses, looking up at Jungkook with those
wide brown eyes. “I’d wonder if you would come back.”

“I would come back,” Jungkook says softly. “I’d come back in every single day just to see if you
were working, even though you’d get my order wrong every time.” That gets him a timid smile and
Jungkook feels a grin tugging at his own mouth. “I’d try to impress you by leaving a ridiculous tip
in the tip jar and end up looking like a jackass. And it’d take me a solid week to work up the
courage to ask you out on a date.”

Taehyung sucks in a breath, blinking at him. “And if I said yes…where would you take me?”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, considering the question. “Dinner? Somewhere fancy.”
“That’s not very imaginative.”

“A movie then. Your choice.”

“Still not very imaginative but okay, I’ll go to this hypothetical movie with you.” Taehyung grins, a
mischievous gleam in his eye. “I’d pick a kids movie or something with the most godawful reviews
so we could sit in the very back and make ou－” He stops, the smile fading from his face.

Jungkook’s heart thumps in his chest and he’s only vaguely aware that the countdown clock shows
only a minute left until midnight and there’s a thrum of excitement from the crowd. “Tae…”

Taehyung shakes his head. “What’s the point?” he says in a small voice. “What’s the point of
doing this to ourselves? We can’t wish an alternate universe into existence.” He looks at Jungkook,
his eyes shining with tears. “We still met the way we met and…you still did the things you did.
And you’ve been so good to me lately which just makes me even more confused. Because as
wonderful as you’ve been, I can’t forget what happened before. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.” He
swallows thickly, looking down at the ground. “It was so much easier when I hated you,” he
whispers. “I don’t know how to feel about you now.”

Five…four…three…two…one…happy new year…

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. He leans his forehead against Taehyung’s as couples exchange
kisses to ring in the new year, holds onto him tightly as fireworks burst above them, bright and
burning in the sky.

When they get back to Jungkook’s penthouse, after Taehyung checks on a sleeping Yeontan and
thanks Jin for looking after him, Jin heads outside to guard the door while Jungkook and Taehyung
go into the bedroom. Both of them get undressed and slip into bed but they don’t have sex. Instead,
Jungkook holds Taehyung close, neither of them saying anything as they gaze at each other
through the shadows. There’s the occasional popping noise of a fire cracker in the distance but
other than that, there’s only silence, stillness.

Taehyung’s hand is on Jungkook’s bare chest, tracing small invisible patterns with his index finger
while Jungkook rubs his back, smoothing his palm over Taehyung’s warm skin. He wants to speak
but finds that he can’t, too afraid that anything he says will come out wrong.

Tomorrow, he thinks to himself as he feels Taehyung fall asleep beside him, I’ll talk to him first
thing tomorrow about the contract…I’ll ask him if he wants to stay with me…

He’s just about to drift off to sleep himself when his phone vibrates on the nightstand, lighting up
with an incoming call. Checking to make sure it hasn’t woken Taehyung up, Jungkook carefully
extricates himself from him and grabs his phone, getting up from the bed before he answers it.

“Yoongi, this better be fucking important,” he whispers harshly, stepping out into the living room.

“Boss, we found him.” Yoongi sounds out of breath, his voice strained. “We know exactly where
he is now.”
There’s a ringing noise in Jungkook’s ears and he has to take a second to make sure he’s still
standing upright. “Where?”

“I’m not telling you that over the phone. I’m on my way, I’ll be there in two minutes.”

He hangs up and Jungkook just stands there for thirty seconds before he realizes that he’s
completely naked and hastens back into the bedroom to put a pair of sweatpants on. He looks over
at the still-sleeping Taehyung, a painful ache in his chest. Their conversation about the contract
would have to wait. Unless…Jungkook makes the hardest decision he’s ever made in his life and
just lets Taehyung go.

Because if Jungkook is going to go after him, there’s a chance he might not come back.

He hears the front door open and goes back out into the living room to see Yoongi marching into
the kitchen, heading straight for Jungkook’s liquor cabinet and grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniel’s,
not even bothering to reach for a glass, just twisting the cap off and taking a swig.

“Where is he?” Jungkook asks, keeping his voice low as he joins Yoongi in the kitchen, taking a
seat on one of the stools by the counter.

“Brazil,” Yoongi gasps, putting the bottle down on the counter and swiping at his mouth with the
back of his hand. “Rio, to be exact.” He looks pale, his eyes wide and staring, as if he can’t believe
the words that are coming out of his own mouth.

“How can you know for sure?”

“Security footage from one of the local nightclubs. Shows him hobnobbing with the city’s biggest
crime lord. Seems he’s been doing some networking…” Yoongi trails off, biting his lip. “Just like
him, I suppose.” He glances at Jungkook, seeming to come back to himself a little bit. “Our source
says he’s staying at one of the crime lord’s compounds, helping to oversee one of the drug
operations there. But he doesn’t seem to stay in one place for too long, that’s why it took us so long
to find him.”

Jungkook picks up the bottle of Jack Daniel’s, goes to take a sip but then lowers the bottle again.
“So, if we’re going to take him out, it has to be now.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says dully, staring down at the counter. “That would be the smart thing to do.”

“I guess I’ll…” Jungkook glances over his shoulder towards the bedroom, blowing out a breath.
“Fuck.”

“Boss…” Yoongi says and Jungkook turns back to face him. “If you want…I can go instead. I can
do it.”

“No,” Jungkook replies, shaking his head. “It has to be me.”

“You still don’t trust me, do you?” Yoongi says softly. “You think if I go instead of you, I won’t be
able to do it.”

“No, Yoongi, that’s not it. I trust you.” Jungkook sighs, resting his head in his hands. “It just has to
be me.” He closes his eyes, and sees Taehyung’s face in his mind, how he had looked tonight, so
incredibly beautiful, his face lighting up when they had talked about meeting in an alternate
universe, the sorrow that had clouded his eyes when he had told Jungkook that he didn’t know how
to feel about him. And really, could Jungkook blame him? After everything that he had done to
Taehyung, could he really blame him for being so confused and unsure?
He had wanted to talk to Taehyung about the contract tomorrow, give them both a fresh start, prove
to Taehyung that his feelings were real…

Too late for that now.

“I can let Taehyung know where you’ve gone when he wakes up,” Yoongi says, as if reading his
mind. “But I’m not sure what you’d want me to say when he asks when you’ll be back－”

“No, just－I’ll let you know what I want you to tell him. Go grab the notepad and a pen from out
of my office, will you? I need to write him a note first.”

Jungkook wastes three sheets of paper trying to write a note for Taehyung. The first note is too
long, the second one is too short, and the third one is full of lies. Finally, on the fourth and final
one, he just puts down the bare minimum, telling Taehyung exactly what he needs to know. He
leaves it on the counter, drilling it into Yoongi to show Taehyung the note first before telling him
anything about where Jungkook has gone.

“Tell him everything. He should know everything.”

“Everything?”

“Everything. Don’t leave anything out and if he asks any questions, you answer them.”

Yoongi nods, still looking a bit dubious. “Okay…I mean, if you’re really sure.”

“I am sure. He deserves to know. And you have my permission to fill Jimin in on it, too. There
shouldn’t be any secrets between you two.”

Then, before Yoongi can say anything else, Jungkook heads back into his bedroom to get dressed
and say his goodbyes.

“Taehyung.”

There’s a hand on his shoulder, gently shaking him awake and Taehyung opens his eyes to see
Jungkook sitting on the bed beside him, fully dressed in a black suit and black dress shirt.

“Mmm?” Taehyung says, blinking blearily up at him. “What is it? You want a massage or
something?”

Jungkook huffs a laugh, taking Taehyung’s hand in his. “No, baby, that’s not why I woke you up. I
just need to tell you something.”

Then he goes quiet for a few seconds, and Taehyung waits, his heart pounding in his chest as
Jungkook gazes down at him through the darkness. The silence stretches on and Taehyung, feeling
impatient, opens his mouth to ask what he needs to tell him when Jungkook finally speaks.
“I remember the night I first saw you.”

Taehyung swallows thickly, his hand tightening on Jungkook’s, a vision flashing through his mind
of Jungkook dressed all in black, staring at him hungrily through the bars of his cage.

“I’ll admit, when I first got a glimpse of you, I thought you were just another overhyped virgin,
nothing special. But then you looked into my eyes and I saw that bright fire burning inside you
and…Tae, I’ve never known anyone as fearless as you. As brave.” He rubs his thumb over the
back of Taehyung’s hand, a subtle caress. “To see you stare down all those men, mouthing off to
them…I knew in the first couple of minutes that I was wrong. That you were special.”

Taehyung squirms slightly under the intensity of Jungkook’s gaze, feeling his face heat. “Why are
you telling me this?”

“Because I never told you before and I should have. God, Tae, there are so many things I should
have done differently.” Jungkook sighs, bringing Taehyung’s hand up to his mouth, pressing his
lips to his skin. “I should never have said those awful words to you,” he murmurs. “Never should
have been so cruel, never should have treated you like I did. I know I don’t deserve your
forgiveness, Tae. But I just want you to know that it’s the biggest regret of my life, hurting you like
that. If I could go back and do it differently, I would. I’d free you from your cage and get you out
of there, make sure you were somewhere safe where no one could ever hurt you.” He bows his
head over Taehyung’s hand, pressing his forehead to his knuckles. “Not even me.”

“Hey,” Taehyung says softly, caressing Jungkook’s cheek, making Jungkook look up at him again.
“Neither of us can change the past. And I know you hurt me before and I’m still not sure if I can
forgive you for that but…I know you wouldn’t hurt me now, Jungkook. I know that.”

Jungkook reaches up, placing his hand over Taehyung’s, pressing it even more firmly against his
cheek, leaning into Taehyung’s touch. “I’ll never hurt you again, Tae,” Jungkook whispers, turning
his face to press a soft kiss to Taehyung’s palm. “I promise.”

“I know,” Taehyung whispers back. He takes his hand away, tugging lightly at Jungkook’s sleeve.
“Now come back to bed, okay? You’re making me nervous with all this heavy middle-of-the-night
talk.”

Jungkook gives him a sad smile. “Sorry, baby, I can’t. I gotta go.”

“Go?” Taehyung says uncertainly, his heart seeming to cave in on itself. “Go where?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer him, just takes Taehyung’s hand and brings it up to his lips again, kissing
it once more. “Goodbye, my little tiger,” he whispers. Then he lets go, standing up from the bed
and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Taehyung wakes up the next morning, automatically checking beside him to see if Jungkook is
there but he’s not. That whole thing last night about Jungkook waking him up and speaking so
cryptically about the night they had first met at the Bird Cage had seemed like a dream. Or, maybe
he had just hoped it had been a dream. That’s why he hadn’t followed Jungkook out of the
bedroom and demanded an explanation.

But he was going to demand an explanation today, goddammit. He’d had just about enough of this
dancing around each other business, it was about time he and Jungkook sat down and had an actual
conversation, like adults. But what if he asked Jungkook how he really felt about him and
Jungkook replied with ‘Nothing. I don’t feel anything for you, Tae. It was all just a game, seeing if
I could make you fall for me and you did. Stupid fucking kid, thinking that I would ever have
feelings for you. Don’t make me laugh. You’re nothing but a stupid, pathetic whore who catches
feelings for the first person who shows you a little basic human decency and buys you a fucking
puppy for Christmas. What, are you so starved for affection that you’re going to suck some guy’s
dick just because he smiled at you? I can’t fucking believe how easy it turned out to be to make you
think that I actually cared about you…’

Taehyung throws the covers off and gets out of bed, storming over to the closet and ripping some
clothes off the hangers so he can get dressed. He is not going to allow his doubts and fears take
over his mind, cloud his judgment. Jungkook wouldn’t say anything like that to him, wouldn’t be
so callous. Not anymore.

I’ll never hurt you again, Tae…I promise…

And whether Jungkook’s words had been part of a dream or not, Taehyung believed in them.

Once he’s dressed, he goes out to the living room to take Yeontan out to pee and maybe ask Jin
where Jungkook is－but stops short when he sees Yoongi sitting on the sofa, cradling the little
puppy in one hand, stroking his soft fur with the other.

“I already took him out,” Yoongi says, not looking at him. “So you don’t need to worry about him
for a while.”

“Okay…” Taehyung sits down on the sofa beside him and Yoongi casually hands him Yeontan,
who wiggles around in his arms, whimpering softly. Taehyung soothes him with an ear scratch
until Yeontan is content that he’s the center of attention once again before looking back up at
Yoongi. “Sorry, but what are you doing here? Is everything okay? Where’s Jungkook－”

Yoongi holds up his hand, cutting him off and Taehyung stops, taking a closer look at him. He
looks awful, his skin paler than usual, dark circles underneath his eyes, his suit rumpled as if he
slept in it. “Everything’s fine,” he rasps, staring off into space. He reaches into the inside pocket of
his jacket, pulling out a piece of paper and hands it to Taehyung. “I’ll tell you what’s going on but
you need to read that first.”

Curious, Taehyung takes the paper from him and reads the short note:

Taehyung,

I am officially releasing you from the exclusivity contract between us. I have paid you out for the
months remaining in the contract, in addition to a little extra to ensure that you’ll have everything
you need in order to start a new life for yourself. You are welcome to remain at my penthouse for
as long as you like until you find a place of your own. Thank you for everything that you’ve given
me.

－ Jungkook

Taehyung frowns down at the note, turning it over to see if Jungkook had written anything else but
that was it－just four measly sentences, ending the contract between them. Essentially kicking him
out of his penthouse without so much as an explanation.

Taehyung’s hand tightens on the paper, his jaw clenched. So much for not ever hurting me again,
asshole.

“What the fuck is this?” he says, glancing up at Yoongi. “Where’s Jungkook－”

“He’s in Brazil.”

“He’s in Brazil?” Taehyung exclaims, causing Yeontan to echo his words with a little yip. “What
the fuck is he doing in Brazil?”

Yoongi heaves a sigh, rubbing a hand against his forehead. “He’s gone there to hunt down the man
who killed his parents. Min SungWon.” He takes his hand away, turning to face Taehyung, his
expression tormented, helpless. “My father.”

Taehyung sits there staring at Yoongi for a few seconds, unaware that his mouth has fallen open, a
thousand questions exploding in his mind. When he finally composes himself enough to ask one,
it’s the dumbest one that slips out first.

“Your father…killed Jungkook’s parents?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, looking utterly miserable. “About six months ago.”

Six months ago…That would have only been a couple of months before Taehyung even met
Jungkook. He had told Taehyung they were dead but he hadn’t told him that their deaths had been
such a recent occurrence. And here he had even been wondering if Jungkook had been the one to
kill his own father…

“B-but why?” Taehyung stammers. “I mean, how did it happen? What possible reason－”

“Oh, he had his reasons,” Yoongi says bitterly. “And Jungkook told me to tell you everything and I
will, just give me a minute to figure out how to tell it properly.” He goes quiet for a few long
seconds and then takes a deep breath. “My father was Jungkook’s father’s second-in-command.
Been in that position ever since Jeon Yongsun took over the leadership of the Yong Jegug from
his father before him. My father and Jungkook’s father grew up together, just like me and
Jungkook did…they were best friends too, practically brothers…” He stops, gnawing at his lower
lip before going on. “I suppose that’s why I didn’t see it coming. Although, looking back, I should
have.”

“What do you mean?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Just certain things he was saying in the few months leading up to…that night.
Criticizing Yongsun for certain decisions he made regarding the running of our organization,
saying that he wasn’t teaching Jungkook how to be a proper leader, that Jungkook still had ‘a lot to
learn’ and shit like that. Never actually saying these things to Yongsun or Jungkook. He only said
them to me.” He gazes past Taehyung out the penthouse window, a distant look in his eyes. “I
didn’t think anything of it. I just thought my father and Jungkook’s father were going through a
rough patch. You know, the way couples do? They hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye on everything
but they had still been close, always had each other’s backs. I just thought my father was blowing
off steam, being a bit overly-critical.” He shakes his head. “God, I was so stupid.”

Yoongi falls silent again and Taehyung gives him a moment to collect his thoughts even though
he’s burning with questions, to the point where he has to bite down on his lips to keep himself from
asking one. Instead, he concentrates on stroking Yeontan’s soft fur, trying to calm his racing
heartbeat. Jungkook’s parents murdered…and he’s gone to hunt down the man who killed them,
who was his father’s best friend…but what if Yoongi’s father kills him too－

Before Taehyung can follow this dark train of thought, Yoongi starts speaking again.

“And then that night happened,” Yoongi says in a hushed voice. “I was in charge of guarding the
Jeons’ residence that evening, it was a security assignment that was only given to elite members of
the Yong Jegug and was considered an honour. And I felt honored, I had only been allowed that
privilege for the last year or so, and I took it seriously, Jungkook’s family felt like my family
too…” He trails off, swallowing thickly before going on. “And then my father showed up. Out of
nowhere, I wasn’t expecting him to be there, he hadn’t called or anything. And he told me that he
was there to take over my guard duties, that he knew I had been working hard lately and I deserved
a night to myself…” Yoongi closes his eyes briefly before opening them again, looking directly at
Taehyung now. “I should have known that something was up right then, he was Jeon Yongsun’s
second-in-command, he had better things to do than play security guard. But I was missing Jimin
so I left and went straight to the Bird Cage.” The pain in Yoongi’s eyes is palpable and Taehyung
feels like his heart is about to break right in two because he knows what’s coming, what Yoongi is
about to say.

“So that’s where I was,” Yoongi whispers. “I was with Jimin when he killed them.”

Taehyung goes very still as understanding finally dawns on him. That’s why Jungkook had
separated Yoongi and Jimin, forced them to stop seeing each other. Because a part of him must
have blamed Yoongi for leaving his post, and blamed Jimin for tempting him away in the first
place. He still doesn’t think Jungkook did the right thing by keeping them apart but…he
understands his reason for doing it, for thinking that way.

“That was the night I told Jimin I loved him,” Yoongi continues. “And I promised him that I’d go
see Hobi the next day to talk about signing an exclusivity contract with him so I could finally get
him out of there. I’d sorta been saving up for it, you see, those contracts aren’t exactly cheap.”
There’s a bitter twist to Yoongi’s lips as he goes on. “But when I got home, my father was there
waiting for me. And he told me what he had done.”

“He told you? Just like that?”

Yoongi snorts. “It wasn’t exactly like he was confessing and trying to absolve himself of his guilt.
He thought he had done the right thing.” He rolls his eyes in disgust. “Fuck, he sounded like a
complete psycho, talking about how he had done it to save the Yong Jegug, how thanks to him,
we could take over now and set things right. All we had to do was…kill Jungkook.”

Taehyung’s heart punches into his throat and he inhales a shaky breath. “He wanted to…kill
Jungkook too?”

“Yep.” Yoongi grimaces, tapping his fingers on his knee. “I told him I wasn’t going to do that.
Jungkook was…is like a brother to me. There was no way I could kill him. But I felt like I had to
protect my father too so…I told him to run.” Yoongi blows out a breath, his shoulders slumping.
“And it was the biggest fucking mistake I ever made in my life.”

“I can see why you did that, though,” Taehyung says. “I mean, he was your father－”

“So?” Yoongi says harshly. “He still needed to be held accountable for what he had done. But I
guess I was scared of losing him if I turned him in so I told him if he disappeared, I wouldn’t say
anything. He argued for a bit but I eventually convinced him to go. And he did. But not before he
told me he hoped that I would ‘come around’ and ‘see his side of things.’” He scrubs a hand over
his face, looking exhausted. “And then I went back to the Jeons’ house. And I saw what he had
done.”

Yoongi then goes quiet for so long that Taehyung thinks that might be the end of everything he’s
willing to say but then he abruptly gets up from the couch and starts to pace around the living area,
shoving his hands in his pockets.

“He had fucking shot them in their bed. Like a fucking coward, just shooting them in their sleep
like he was putting down a lame horse. And okay, I can even kind of understand him killing
Yongsun and making a power grab but Jungkook’s mother, too?” He turns to Taehyung, his eyes
wet. “She didn’t deserve to die like that. To be fucking executed in her bed. Jeon Nami was a good
woman,” he adds, his voice softer now. “I never knew my mother, you know, so she kind of took
on that role in my life. Always told me I was like a son to her.”

Taehyung remembers the reverence in Jungkook’s voice when he had spoken about his mother,
about her kindness, her grace, and it conjures up a sickening image of this good, elegant woman
lying covered in blood, shot to death in her sleep.

“How did Jungkook find out?” Taehyung asks softly. “Did you tell him?”

Yoongi shakes his head, looking away. “He was already in their bedroom when I got there.
Kneeling by the bed beside his mother, holding onto her hand.”

Tears smart at the corners of Taehyung’s eyes and he squeezes them shut for a moment, thinking of
Jungkook kneeling on the floor beside his mother, his warm hand laced with her cold one and the
pain Jungkook must have felt echoes inside him because Taehyung had done the exact same thing
when his own mother died. Held onto her hand and refused to let go until the hospital staff had to
forcibly separate him from her.

“And then he looked up at me when I came in,” Yoongi says, staring out the window again. “I’ll
never forget the look on his face. He just seemed so…lost. Like he couldn’t comprehend what had
happened, why his parents were dead. So like an idiot, I told him what my father had done and that
I was sorry.”

Taehyung bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. “He thought you had something to do with it,
didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Yoongi replies wearily. “Thought I was in on it. Got up and shoved me against the wall,
screaming in my face that I was a fucking traitor, that he’d kill me and then kill my father, he’d
fucking destroy us. And then he hit me, I think he might even have pistol-whipped me because I
blacked out and then woke up in one of our warehouses, tied to a chair.”

A chill sweeps over Taehyung and he shivers involuntarily. “Yoongi…I’m not sure I want to hear
this part.”

Yoongi smirks, letting out a dry chuckle. “Don’t worry, compared to what he could have done, it
wasn’t actually that bad. I’m still intact, aren’t I?” His smile fades and he looks down, scuffing the
toe of his shoe against the floor. “He beat me a couple of times. With his rings on so that
did fucking hurt but nothing I hadn’t experienced before. Didn’t let me have any food or water for
three straight days so I became pretty disoriented, I hardly even remember most of it…” He glances
up at Taehyung, his expression grim. “But I do remember this: on the third day, he pointed a gun at
my head and demanded that I tell the truth about my involvement or he was going to blow my
brains out. I kept denying it, he kept accusing me of lying and this may sound stupid but all I could
think about was never being able to see Jimin again.”

“It’s not stupid,” Taehyung whispers. “It’s not.”

“Well, anyway…I was trying to accept the fact that I was about to die but you know what the
funny thing is? Jungkook’s hand was shaking. Shaking so badly that I was sure he was going to
just drop the gun at any moment. He had been executing people for years by that point but he
couldn’t keep his hand steady while he was pointing the gun at me.” Yoongi tilts his head back,
staring at the ceiling, his expression thoughtful. “I don’t know what ultimately made him believe
that I was telling the truth and hadn’t been involved. Or, semi-believe me anyway. But he finally
put the gun away, untied me from the chair, and told me that in order to prove my loyalty, I would
be the one responsible for finding my father. And once I did, Jungkook would be the one to kill
him.”

Taehyung swallows back the lump rising in his throat. “And he made you stop seeing Jimin, too,
didn’t he?”

Yoongi nods. “I kind of already knew that was a given at that point. It was hard to stay away from
him though and we did meet in secret sometimes but…it was a rough time for the Yong Jegug.
Some gang members proved that they, ah, showed a certain loyalty to my father and weren’t
entirely on board with Jungkook taking on the leadership, especially when he was so young. So
there was some internal conflict, I guess you could say.”

Taehyung looks away, staring out the window, only remembering that he’s still holding onto
Yeontan when the puppy licks at his hand. Absentmindedly stroking Yeontan’s fur, he says, “So…
Jungkook’s gone to Brazil to kill your father…and you’re okay with that?”

“It’s what needs to happen, Taehyung,” Yoongi sighs, coming to sit down on the sofa again.
“What, do you think Jungkook’s just going to bring him back here so he can be tried in a court of
law?”

“But…he’s your father. Aren’t you even a little conflicted about it?”

Yoongi cuts him a glance. “Family is more than just blood, Taehyung. It’s who’d you take a bullet
for. And Jungkook’s taken more than his fair share of bullets for me since we’ve known each
other. Metaphorically, I mean, but still.” He looks away, scratching at the back of his neck. “And
my father signed his death warrant the second he turned traitor. That’s how our world works.”

Taehyung nods vaguely, staring off into space. Just last night he had been lying in Jungkook’s
arms, so much that he had been wanting to say but not being able to find the right words. And now
Jungkook was on the other side of the world.

“I guess you don’t know when he’ll be back?” he asks hesitantly, trying to not think about the
other word that comes to his mind. If. If he’ll be back.

Yoongi shakes his head, his mouth set in a thin line. “No way to tell. He’ll come back once he’s
done what he needs to do.”
 “Okay, but－” Taehyung gestures at the note Jungkook had left him. “Is he really kicking me out?
I’m not allowed to stay here anymore?”

Yoongi frowns at him. “Of course you’re allowed to stay here, that’s what he put in the note,
didn’t he? But he thought you’d want to leave.” His face softens and he actually reaches out and
pats Taehyung awkwardly on the shoulder. “He’s giving you your freedom, Taehyung. He thought
that’s what you wanted.”

“Well, yeah, but－” Taehyung stops, unsure of what to say. Yes, it was a good thing that he and
Jungkook were no longer beholden to some stupid sex contract but…to never even see him again?
To just up and leave when there was so much left unsaid between them? And he didn’t even know
when Jungkook would be back, if he’d be back.

He picks up the note again, trying to discern any hidden meaning from the terse sentences.

You are welcome to remain at my penthouse for as long as you like until you find a place of your
own.…paid you out for the months remaining in the contract, in addition to a little extra to ensure
that you’ll have everything you need…

“’A little extra?’” Taehyung muses out loud. “There was really no need for him to do that, he’s
given me so much already…”

Yoongi’s lips quirk up in the semblance of a smile. “Check your bank account.”

Puzzled by Yoongi’s expression, Taehyung takes his phone out of his pocket and opens the
banking app, typing in his password and checking his account. When he sees the number displayed
on the screen, he drops the phone, burying his face in his hands as he immediately bursts into tears.

In his bank account now resides over twelve billion won.

The equivalent of around ten million dollars.

Chapter End Notes

Preview for next week:

Jungkook sighs, standing on the balcony of his crummy little motel room, staring
down at his phone. His resolve to cut off all contact from Taehyung wavers, his thumb
hovering over the call button.
Playlist

Twitter
 Chapter 12
Chapter Summary

Confrontations...

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

(1) Missed Call: Kim Taehyung (9:57 pm)

Kim Taehyung (9:59 pm)

>hey so I read your note and Yoongi told me everything…I know you’re busy doing stuff in Brazil
right now but will you please call me when you get a chance? I really think we should talk…<

(1) Missed Call: Kim Taehyung (11:45 pm)

Kim Taehyung (11:50 pm)

>I’m not sure if I keep missing you or something…I know the time difference is like twelve hours so
you might be asleep…will you please call me when you get this?<

(1) Missed Call: Kim Taehyung (8:02 am)

Kim Taehyung (8:03 am)

>ok but WHAT THE FUCKING HELL JUNGKOOK<

>YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST LEAVE WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING? PAY ME OFF LIKE
I’M SOME FUCKING GOLDDIGGER AND THAT’S IT?? FUCK YOU YOU FUCKING
ASSHOLE<

>YOU WANT ME OUT OF YOUR PENTHOUSE? FUCKING FINE I’M FUCKING LEAVING<
(1) Missed Call: Kim Taehyung (12:13 pm)

Kim Taehyung (12:17 pm)

>ok look ignore my text from earlier I just got really fucking frustrated because I still haven’t
heard from you<

>I’m sorry ok? And I know you’re dealing with some pretty heavy shit right now but will you just
TEXT me? So I know you’re alive?<

Kim Taehyung (12:26 pm)

>please, Jungkook<

Jungkook sighs, standing on the balcony of his crummy little motel room, staring down at his
phone. His resolve to cut off all contact from Taehyung wavers, his thumb hovering over the call
button. Even just texting him back would be too risky because if he texts him, he’ll want to call
him and if he hears Taehyung’s voice, he’ll go straight to the airport and book the first flight home.
Because even though he’s in Brazil, waiting for the right opportunity to dive into Rio’s underworld
and take down Yoongi’s father, his mind is still full of Taehyung’s bright boxy smile, his soul-
piercing eyes.

But it’s better this way, he tells himself. Better to let Taehyung think that he doesn’t care about
him, or even think that he’s gone for good so Taehyung will leave his penthouse and start his life
over, the way he deserves to. He can’t reply to him, can’t talk to him and hold out the hope that
Taehyung will still be there when he gets back.

If he gets back.

It’s time to get a grip on himself, harden his heart again and remember who he is. Jeon Jungkook,
leader of the Yong Jegug, and his sole mission in life is to put Min SungWon underground for
daring to kill his family in cold blood. For daring to kill his mother.

It was simple, just like his father taught him: somebody hits you, you hit back. Enemies are there to
be killed and violent acts are met with violent retribution to restore the balance. To keep the cycle
going. That’s what mattered, that’s what was important.

…right?

He reads through Taehyung’s messages again, starts to type something out but then deletes it. And
then he deletes Taehyung’s messages too.

Delete.
Delete.

Delete.

***

Five days. It’s been five fucking days since Jungkook left for Brazil and Taehyung hasn’t gotten a
single phone call from him, not even a text message. And Taehyung has stopped texting him, his
last text to Jungkook that stupid, desperate plea.

Please, Jungkook.

Fuck that. He’s not going to fucking beg for Jungkook to talk to him. But it’s still driving him
fucking crazy because he keeps thinking that Jungkook isn’t talking to him not because he doesn’t
want to but because he’s unable to.

What if he had gone to kill Yoongi’s father but SungWon had gotten the upper hand over Jungkook
and was holding him captive? What if he was torturing him? Oh god, what if he was dead－

Taehyung hefts Yeontan up higher in his arms, staring out the penthouse window at the rain
sheeting down. No use wondering about what-ifs, he knows that but he can’t help it. Can’t help but
picture Jungkook, his strong body broken, chest riddled with bullet holes, his black eyes blank and
empty, staring at nothing.

You are welcome to remain at my penthouse for as long as you like until you find a place of your
own…

He’s tried leaving. He’s tried leaving so many times over the past few days, usually when his anger
and fear and confusion surge high within him, making his hands shake and his temples throb until
he storms into the bedroom and starts packing a bag, determined to leave, to just go to a hotel and
stay there because, honestly? Fuck this.

But it’s the thought of never seeing Jungkook again, of not even knowing what happens to him that
ultimately stops him and he unpacks the bag again.

“Why don’t you leave, Tae?” Jimin had asked him when he had been over the other day. “Why
don’t you just go? You don’t owe him anything.”

Taehyung had just shrugged off the questions, saying vaguely that he was thinking about leaving
but he had to sort some stuff out first, figure out where he would go. But it was a lie. He wants to
stay here. And he wants for Jungkook to come back. To come home.

Home.

Yeontan wriggles around in his arms so Taehyung sets him down on the floor and the tiny puppy
trots around the living area, sniffing around the sofa, the coffee table before looking up at
Taehyung and whining softly.

“I know,” Taehyung sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I miss him too.”
He hears voices outside the penthouse door and he looks up, his heart beating wildly in his chest as
the door opens－but it’s only Jimin, snapping something at Jin as he lugs a huge suitcase through
the front door.

“Jin, I said I got it!”

“Jimin,” Taehyung says, going over to him, “what are you－”

“I’m here to help you pack,” Jimin replies, moving past Taehyung and marching towards the
bedroom. “You need to quit fucking moping around and get your shit together, Tae. Figuratively
and literally.”

“But－”

Jimin ignores him, disappearing into the bedroom and when Taehyung follows him inside, it’s to
see Jimin by the closet with the suitcase open on the floor, throwing armfulls of Taehyung’s
clothes into it, not even bothering to take them off the hangers－tee shirts, sweatpants, a designer
sweater, and even the green Givenchy coat Jungkook had bought for him.

“Jimin, what are you doing?” Taehyung tries to stop him by grabbing a hold of the Burberry
sweater Jimin is currently trying to toss into the suitcase. “When I need your help with packing, I’ll
fucking ask for it－”

“Oh, like that’s going to fucking happen,” Jimin snaps, trying to wrest the sweater from him.
“God, you’d stay here mooning over that asshole forever if I didn’t step in. So, guess what, Tae.
This is me fucking stepping in.”

“Jimin, stop!”

Taehyung lets go of the sweater and Jimin staggers back, staring at him with wide eyes.

“You don’t get to just fucking come in here and decide these things for me! You’re not my fucking
father!” Taehyung yells. “You don’t get to decide when I leave, where I go, and you certainly
don’t get to decide how I fucking feel about him!”

Jimin blinks at him, looking stricken and Taehyung feels his shoulders slump, exhaustion stealing
through him. He sits down heavily in front of Jungkook’s massive bed, leaning back against it,
biting down hard on his lip to keep himself from bursting into tears.

Jimin looks down at the sweater he’s still holding in his hands for a few seconds and then carefully
hangs it back up in the closet before coming over and sitting down beside him.

“I’m sorry, Tae,” Jimin sighs, reaching for his hand. “I thought I was helping but I’m being a huge
jerk right now.”

“You could never be a huge jerk,” Taehyung says quietly. “You’re too small for that. Right now
I’d say you’re being a really tiny jerk.”

“Brat.” Jimin nudges him with his elbow and Taehyung nudges him back. They sit there for a few
seconds in silence before Jimin speaks again. “Tae…how do you feel about him?”

A lump rises in his throat and Taehyung shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“Are you in love with him?”

Jimin’s voice is soft, gentle, with no trace of accusation but it only makes Taehyung want to cry
that much more. “I don’t know,” he says again, feeling his face start to crumple, “I’m c-confused.”
A tear slips out and then another one and he lays his head on Jimin’s shoulder, just letting them
come. Because he is confused. Confused and scared and lonely, caught between wanting to leave
and wanting to stay, caught between finally gaining his freedom and wanting to see Jungkook walk
through the front door, that devilish smirk on his handsome face.

“I just find myself missing him, you know?” Taehyung says once he’s capable of speaking again.
“I feel like I’m checking my phone every five fucking seconds even though I haven’t heard
anything from him in days. And then I get scared, thinking that something’s happened to him but I
can’t do anything about it and I just feel so fucking helpless.” He sniffs, swiping at his eyes. “And
then I get pissed off at him and that’s usually when I decide to leave but every time I start packing,
I think about never seeing him again, not even knowing if he makes it back okay. And for some
reason, I just can’t fucking stand that, I know if I left without knowing if he makes it back or not,
I’d spend the rest of my life wondering…” He trails off, staring at the suitcase still laying open on
the floor, half-full of designer clothes. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“Let’s say he does come back,” Jimin says hesitantly. “And you see him and you see that he got
back okay…would you leave then? Or would you stay with him? I mean, do you think you’d want
to be in an actual relationship with him?”

“I don’t know,” Taehyung says, shrugging. “I don’t even know what an actual relationship would
be like with anyone, let alone with him.”

What if we hadn’t met at the Bird Cage…what if he had just met somewhere normal…

“It’s not easy, Tae,” Jimin says softly. “Being with someone who’s a part of that world, I mean. I
know I act like me and Yoongi have a perfect relationship but…” He sighs, running a hand through
his hair. “Sometimes I’m not sure if it’s enough that we love each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m in a constant state of anxiety whenever he goes out somewhere. I’m not naive, I
know the sort of stuff he’s doing, even if he never wants to talk to me about it. But whenever he
kisses me goodbye and walks out the door…” He shakes his head, a faraway look in his eyes. “I
always have this thought running through my mind that it might be the last time I see him. That
there’s always going to be that risk of him getting shot or stabbed or fucking tortured to death by
some rival gang member. It’s enough to drive anyone insane.” He looks at Taehyung, a shadow
passing over his face. “So, this thing that you’re feeling right now for Jungkook, constantly
worrying about him, wondering if he’s okay or not…I know what that feeling is like, Tae. I know
that it’s torture.” He reaches up, stroking a gentle hand over Taehyung’s cheek. “And I wouldn’t
wish that feeling on anyone. And I certainly wouldn’t wish it on my best friend.”

“Is that why you’ve been so gung-ho about not wanting me to develop feelings for him?”

Jimin grimaces, letting his hand fall away from Taehyung’s face. “Partly,” he says reluctantly.
“Partly because I really think he doesn’t deserve you. But maybe I have been a bit prejudiced
against him.” Taehyung snorts and Jimin rolls his eyes. “Okay, a lot prejudiced against him. But
it’s not like my hatred for him was based on nothing, Tae. But even aside from my own bias…”
Jimin leans his head against Taehyung’s shoulder, squeezing his arm. “I want you to be free of all
this fucked-up gang shit. To just live a normal, happy life with someone who cares about you and
has a normal fucking job. Like an accountant or a schoolteacher or, hell, a fucking tattoo artist.
Anyone else but the leader of a notorious gang.” He raises his head, his expression troubled. “You
really think Jungkook is going to be able to leave the Yong Jegug? As the leader? You really think
he’s going to be able to do that?”

“I don’t know,” Taehyung says quietly. “Haven’t you and Yoongi talked about him leaving one
day?

“Well, yeah of course we have. It’s something I’ve kind of been counting on ever since I first fell
in love with him but sometimes…I wonder if he’ll be able to leave. And not because Jungkook
won’t let him, but because Yoongi’s still loyal to him and I think a part of him will want to stay to,
I don’t know, protect him, I guess. And he’s been a part of that world for so long…maybe he really
won’t be able to get out of it.” Jimin bites down on his lip, blinking rapidly. “And that fucking
terrifies me.”

“Chim…do you ever think about leaving him?”

“No,” Jimin says quickly. But then he pauses, pressing his lips together in a thin line before
speaking again. “I don’t know. Sometimes, when things get really bad and I’ve convinced myself
that he’s never going to leave the Yong Jegug and my only choice is to leave him or wait around
for Bogum or Seojoon or Jin or whoever to knock on my door one day and tell me that he’s
dead…” He closes his eyes, resting his head on Taehyung’s shoulder again and for a few seconds
the only sound is the rain pouring down outside. “And this whole thing with his father, keeping it
from me for months…that’s another thing, it’s the secrets. I feel like there’s always going to be
secrets between us while he’s a part of this sort of life.” He exhales slowly, taking Taehyung’s
hand again. “I don’t know, Tae. I don’t know what to do sometimes. All I know is that I want you
to be happy. And if you’re happy with Jungkook, fine, but…I want you to have your freedom too.
Away from all this madness. And if you have the opportunity to live your own life, I think you
should take it.”

Taehyung opens his mouth to answer him but Yeontan chooses that moment to come into the
bedroom, his tiny claws clicking on the hardwood floor as he trots up to Taehyung and licks at his
wrist, in a spot right next to the golden tiger bracelet that Jungkook gave to him. He picks Yeontan
up, cradling him in his arms as he stares at the closet, the suitcase still lying on the floor half-full of
the clothes Jimin had thrown in there.

“I’ll support whatever you decide, Tae,” Jimin says softly. “Whether you decide to stay or leave,
I’ll be here. I promise.”

Taehyung nods absently, unable to tear his eyes away from the suitcase. “I know.”

Goodbye, my little tiger…

Taehyung closes his eyes, feeling his throat tighten. Maybe Jimin was right, after all. Maybe it was
time for him to say his goodbyes too.

***

Ten days. It’s been ten fucking days since Jungkook has landed in Brazil and he’s received no
more phone calls from Taehyung, no more text messages since he deleted the last ones. He must
have decided to leave, he must have packed up all of his things, taken Yeontan, and gotten the hell
out of his penthouse. So if he makes it back home, he’ll be returning to an empty house, an empty
life.

Maybe that’s why he gets a little bit careless.

Maybe that’s why when he goes to meet their inside source at a dingy little bar located in one of the
poorer districts of Rio, he’s not really bothered by the fact that he walks straight into a trap. As
soon as he walks into Alma Perdida, a place with holes in the roof and tin buckets scattered around
on the tables to collect the rain leaking inside, two burly men stand up from their barstools and
gesture him over, both of them grim faced and mean looking; there’s a thick scar slashing through
one of the taller man’s eyebrows and the shorter one eyes Jungkook with undisguised contempt
before he spits on the floor.

“Jeon Jungkook?” the taller one says, pronouncing his name with a heavy accent.

Jungkook nods and the two men exchange glances. The taller one jerks his head outside to where a
sleek black Bentley suddenly pulls up and Jungkook, flanked by the two men, goes outside and
climbs into the back of the car. He doesn’t resist. Not even when they pat him down and take his
gun. Because, really, what’s the point? Better just to get this whole thing over with, one way or the
other.

They drive through the muddy streets of the slums, towards the outskirts of Rio, the rain pattering
down on the roof of the Bentley and Jungkook, the two meatheads and the driver sit there in
complete silence. He only knows a few essential words of Portuguese so it’s not like he’d be able to
have a conversation with any of these men, even if he felt like it. So he just stares out the
windshield, vaguely watching the wipers whir back and forth, wondering what Taehyung is doing
right now. Painting? Playing with Yeontan? Arranging all his things in his new apartment? Or
maybe, just maybe, he’s still at his penthouse, waiting for him to come home…

His hands curl into fists in his lap and he shakes his head slightly. No, Taehyung wouldn’t have
stayed. He had no reason to.

After about forty-five minutes, the car pulls through a gate flanked by a couple of more meatheads,
both of them holding assault rifles, peering into the backseat of the car before waving them
forward, gesturing with the muzzles of their guns. The driver steers the car slowly along a winding
muddy driveway towards a sprawling mansion which at one time must have been gleaming white
but was now a dull grey and covered with snaking vines of ivy.

When the car pulls to a stop at the front of the mansion, Jungkook climbs out of the car with the
other two men and is ushered inside. It’s even more depressing inside with peeling wallpaper,
cracked marble floors and a rusty chandelier that looks like it’s mere seconds away from falling
right on top of them. To the right of the entryway, Jungkook can see into a massive hall where
endoladores weigh mounds of cocaine and package them into bricks; a lot of the workers look very
young－fourteen or fifteen years old at the most.

But he’s not led inside this room. Instead the guards take him up a crumbling staircase and down a
dark hallway where he is pointed into what looks like a bedroom before they close the door behind
him. There are doors at the other end of the room that lead out onto a covered balcony and on that
balcony, next to a little round table sits a man, gazing out at the rain pouring down. He turns, sees
Jungkook, and gestures him forward.

Jungkook steps out onto the balcony and takes a seat across from Yoongi’s father. “You knew I
was coming?”

“Oh, I thought you’d show up eventually,” Min SungWon says, looking across the table at him, a
small smile on his face. “I’ll admit, I expected you to put up a bit more of a fight, Jungkook. Or
come in, guns blazing, hellbent on your revenge.” He chuckles. “Is it possible you’ve gone soft
since taking up the leadership of the Yong Jegug?”

An image of Taehyung flashes through his mind but he forces himself to give SungWon an
indifferent shrug. “I think you’ve made your stance on my leadership quite clear.”

SungWon’s eyes narrow just a fraction. “Yes, I suppose, I have…or, I suppose my son has
communicated my, er, lack of confidence in you. It really is a shame he turned out to be so blindly
loyal to you.” The last word is punctuated by a sneer and SungWon leans forward across the table.
“What is it he saw in you, I wonder?” he hisses. “What noble quality did he project onto you to
make him abandon his own father? You,” he says again, his tone scathing, “who were supposed to
be the heir of the most powerful organization in all of Seoul and all your father did was succeed in
turning you into a common thug. An arrogant, spoiled brat who spends all his free time fucking
whores and burning through cash. Yongsun didn’t teach you a fucking thing about how to be a
good leader, the most he ever taught you was how to use a gun. He should have seen that Yoongi
was the better of the two of you, he should have made him his heir.” He slams his fist on the table,
his eyes bulging out of his face. “My son is ten times the man you are.”

“Yes,” Jungkook says simply. “He is.”

SungWon blinks at him and leans back against his chair, a slight frown on his face. “Well, at least
you recognize that. So why not hand over the leadership to him, eh? If you already know that he’d
be better than you?”

“Why’d you kill my mother?”

SungWon sighs, looking out at the overgrown backyard, the leaves of the palm trees glistening
with rain. “I admit, I found that…regrettable. Your mother’s only flaw was that she was married to
your father and had someone like you for a son.” He strokes his chin thoughtfully, as if he’s a
philosopher pondering some moral quandary. “I guess the simplest answer to that is it was easier to
kill her. I had killed your father and was already planning on killing you so why would she want to
be alive anyway, if her husband and son were gone?” He shrugs, looking across the table at
Jungkook. “So, in a way, you could almost say I was being merciful by killing her.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, forcing himself to take a steadying breath. The rain hisses loudly in his
ears and all he can see is his mother lying on the bed beside his father, a bullet hole through her
head, hardly any blood at all. Eyes closed, peaceful and serene and quiet. No more worrying about
him, no more anguish clouding her beautiful face because she was scared for him, scared of what
he was becoming.

Maybe SungWon was right. Maybe death had been a mercy for her. And maybe, now that
Taehyung would no longer be a part of his life, death would be a mercy for him too…

Except he doesn’t know for sure if Taehyung has left or not. He might still be there and Jungkook,
by allowing himself to be taken to SungWon so recklessly, may have just thrown away his last
chance to ever see him again.

He has to get out of here.

“I’ll admit,” SungWon says, “that a part of me had hoped that Yoongi might accompany you or he
might even come by himself. But I suppose you insisted that you had to be the one to kill me.”

“It would be a bit much,” Jungkook says through gritted teeth, “for me to ask Yoongi to kill his
own father.”

SungWon stares at him for a few seconds and then throws his head back, letting out a wild howl of
laughter. “Oh, get off your moral high horse, Jungkook, and stop acting like you’ve decided to
come and kill me yourself out of some desire to spare my son the heartache. Be a man and tell the
fucking truth.” He swipes at his eyes, still chuckling softly. “You don’t want anyone else to kill
me, do you? You want the satisfaction of doing it yourself. So your thirst for vengeance will be
sufficiently quenched.” He grins at Jungkook but Jungkook just stares back at him, stony-faced.
Yes, he wants to kill SungWon and take his revenge on him for killing his mother and father but…
it’s not his parents he’s thinking about right now. He’s thinking about Taehyung and whether or not
he’s still at his penthouse, waiting for him to come home. And he’s thinking about Yoongi too－if
he really has what it takes to deprive his best friend of his own father, even if his father had been
the one to take Jungkook’s parents away from him.

SungWon murdering his parents hadn’t been Yoongi’s fault. And it hadn’t been Jungkook’s fault
either. And never mind that he didn’t even have a weapon on him but would killing SungWon even
fix anything? Would it make him feel better? Killing SungWon wouldn’t bring his parents back
and another murder, more blood on his hands…wouldn’t it just make him that much more of a
monster? And less of the kind of man who might deserve someone like Taehyung? He wants to be
that man, the one Taehyung deserves. And it hits him, with the force of a thunderbolt, that he
wants to be that man more than anything else in the entire world. More than revenge, more than
power－he wants Taehyung.

“Did you notice?” SungWon says, pointing out at the surrounding landscape. “You can see Christ
the Redeemer from here.”

Like an idiot, Jungkook turns to look at where SungWon is pointing－and then he feels a hand on
his neck, a sharp prick against his skin as somebody plunges a needle into his neck. Panicking, he
tries to stand but just ends up falling to the balcony as his legs seize up, his entire body going on
lockdown. He thrashes his arms helplessly, trying to move but his limbs won’t cooperate and all he
can do is writhe around on the floor of the balcony, almost completely paralyzed.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little sedative,” SungWon says from somewhere above him, kneeling
down beside him and slipping a hand underneath Jungkook’s neck. “I thought about just killing
you here but where’s the honor in that?” He smiles like a father gazing down at a helpless child.
“I’m going to send you back home, Jungkook. So that when I do come to kill you, it’ll be in my
city. I’m going to take away everything from you, all the things your father just gave to you and
that you never earned. I’m going to make my son see the errors of his ways and so when I take over
the leadership of the Yong Jegug, it’ll be with him at my side and I’ll name him my heir, just as it
should have been in the first place. And I promise to be merciful, Jungkook. I promise to reunite
you with your dear mother.”

Jungkook feels his eyes grow heavy and he struggles to keep them open, even though he can’t
really even focus on SungWon’s face, or even his words. All he can think about is Taehyung.

“Oh, and one more thing,” SungWon says as Jungkook slowly slips into unconsciousness, “I
promise not to come for you right away. Maybe I’ll wait a few months before coming to claim
what’s mine. Or maybe even a year or two. I know how to bide my time, I know how to patient. I
want you to live in a constant state of fear and paranoia, never knowing who to trust, never
knowing when your empire will collapse like a house of cards. You’ll never see me coming. But I
will come for you, Jungkook. You have my word on that.”

SungWon’s face blurs above him and as darkness clouds his vision, all Jungkook can hear is the
rain.

When Jungkook comes to, he looks around, groggy and slightly confused at finding himself in the
back of yet another car, not knowing how he got there. He slowly turns his head to the side to the
man sitting beside him. He frowns, a flicker of recognition echoing in his mind.

“You used to work for my father,” he mutters.

The man looks at him, chewing on the toothpick stuck in the corner of his mouth. “Your father was
a fucking cocksucker,” the man says and punches Jungkook in the face.

When Jungkook comes to again, he feels a gentle hand patting him on the shoulder.

“Sir?” a soft female voice says from above him. “Sir? You need to wake up, the plane has landed.”

Jungkook opens his eyes to see a pretty young woman wearing a flight attendant’s uniform
standing over him, a concerned look on her face.

“I apologize for disturbing you, sir, but the plane has landed and you need to leave.”

“Landed?” Jungkook sits up, looking around. He’s sitting in first class but there doesn’t seem to be
anyone else on the plane except for him, the flight attendant, and one of the pilots standing at the
door, frowning at him.

“Er…where exactly have we landed?”

The flight attendant blinks at him. “In Seoul. We’ve landed at the Incheon International Airport.”

“Oh. Okay, thank you.”

When he gets up from his seat, he almost falls right back down again, feeling lightheaded and
nauseous－most likely an aftereffect from whatever drug SungWon had stuck him with. He leans
against the wall for a second, heaving in a shaky breath and he feels the flight attendant’s hand on
his arm.

“Sir? Are you－”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook says, stepping towards the door. “Thank you for your concern, but I’ll be
alright, I just…don’t fly well.”
He ducks his head in an awkward bow, which almost makes him keel over and then stumbles past
the stern-faced pilot and off the plane into the arrivals hall of the airport.

Probably think I’m on drugs or something…well, they’re not far off…how the hell did they put me
on the plane?…did they fucking carry me on?

He manages to slip into the nearest bathroom and goes to check himself out in the mirror, assessing
the damage. There’s a small red mark on his cheekbone where the man in the car had punched him
but other than that, he seems fine. Suspicious, he takes off his suit jacket and shirt, making sure
they haven’t carved any messages in his skin or burned off his tattoo or something. But no, his
tattoo has been left fully intact, and there’s not a mark on him. It’s eerie. He almost feels as if
SungWon has let him get away too easily, without even maiming him in any way. An alarming
thought occurs to him and he cups himself through his pants, making sure everything is still there
and breathes a sigh of relief when he confirms that his parts all seem to be in working order. At this
exact moment, a man comes into the bathroom, sees Jungkook fondling himself and walks right
back out again.

Jungkook sighs, taking his hand away from his crotch and puts his shirt back on. Well, whatever
SungWon’s reasons for leaving him mostly unharmed, he’s oddly grateful for that. But still, the
entire encounter with him has left him feeling…uneasy. Unsettled.

And that’s when he notices his phone is gone.

“Shit,” he says out loud, patting his pockets. “Shit.”

Of course SungWon would take it. He experiences a brief moment of panic when he remembers
the texts Taehyung had sent him but then remembers he had deleted all of them. His phone is
password protected and, thanks to Namjoon, heavily encrypted but still…he’s sure SungWon had
connections in Rio that could help him hack into it. He has to talk to Namjoon about getting him to
lock down his phone remotely…and he has to talk to Yoongi…

After swiping a bottle of water from a newsstand, Jungkook makes a beeline for one of the
payphones, placing a call to Yoongi.

“Hmm?” Yoongi answers the phone with a grunt, his voice thick with sleep. “Who the fuck is this
and why the fuck are you calling me at 3 o’clock in the morning－”

“It’s Jungkook, dumbass.”

“Boss?” Yoongi sounds more awake now and there’s some shuffling around on the other end
before he speaks again. “Where are you? Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Jungkook replies. “I’m back in Seoul. I’m calling from the airport.”

“Oh.” There’s a very long pause on the other end. “So did you…”

“No,” Jungkook mutters, leaning his forehead against the payphone box. “No, I fucked it all up. He
drugged me and put me on a plane back here.”

“He drugged you?”

“There’s no need to sound so fucking surprised,” Jungkook snaps. “It’s not exactly outside his
realm of morality. I’m just thankful he didn’t do anything worse.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Yoongi says quietly. “Just－what the fuck happened over there?”
“I’ll tell you later.” Jungkook closes his eyes, exhaustion stealing over him despite being
unconscious for god knew how long. “I’ll tell you everything. All you need to know is that I
fucked up and he’s promising to come back here at some point. Didn’t say when so we need to be
on our guard. Look, call Namjoon and tell him to disable my phone, he took it from me. I’m going
to need another one. But right now, I’m going to go home and get some fucking sleep. I’ll talk to
you tomorrow.”

“Boss, wait－”

But Jungkook hangs up on him and trudges out of the airport to where the taxis are waiting and
throws himself into the nearest one. It seems SungWon was kind enough to leave his wallet as well
as his passport on him so he’ll be able to pay the fare at least. But he’ll need to have Namjoon
inspect his wallet as well as all of his credit cards for any sorts of high-tech trackers. Actually, to
be safe, he should just go ahead and cancel all of his cards and get new ones.

When the driver asks him where he wants to be taken to, Jungkook hesitates, not sure if he’s ready
to confront his empty penthouse just yet. A few nights at a hotel might be the best thing, where he
can order room service and drink himself into a stupor before going back home.

Home.

Even the word sounds hollow in his head when he thinks about how lifeless his penthouse will be
without Taehyung’s presence.

But in the end, he gives the driver the address of his apartment building. He has booze at home; he
can drink himself into a stupor right there and save some money.

As the cab driver steers them through the streets of Seoul, Jungkook slumps down in his seat,
sipping at his stolen bottle of water. He wonders if Taehyung is staying at any of the hotels that
they pass or if he’s settled in an apartment already. Did he stay in Seoul? Would Jungkook maybe
cross paths with him again or would he want to go to a different city, start over somewhere new?
That’s something he never got the chance to ask Taehyung, he realizes－the place he would most
want to live.

Not with me, Jungkook thinks dully, he definitely wouldn’t want to live with me. Not now. Not after
I left him like that.

He’s worked himself into quite the foul mood by the time the taxi pulls up in front of his apartment
building so after he pays and takes the elevator up to his floor, all he wants to do is knock back
about two entire bottles of Jack Daniels and collapse on the floor, maybe give himself a nice case
of alcohol poisoning. So when he sees Bogum standing guard outside his penthouse, he’s just
about ready to tear his head off.

“Bogum, go home,” he says, not looking at him as he punches in his security code. “I don’t need
you standing around here guarding an empty penthouse anymore and I certainly don’t need you to
guard me. So get out of here.”

“Um…” Bogum glances at the door and then back at Jungkook. “But…”

“Bogum, I said fuck off!”

Bogum recoils from him and quickly backs away down the hallway, dipping into a hasty bow. “S-
sure, boss, uh, let me know if you need anything.”

Once Bogum retreats into the elevator, Jungkook sighs, resting his forehead against the door, his
hand on the doorknob.

It’s fine, he tells himself. He’ll be perfectly fine once he walks into his penthouse and finds it
empty. It won’t hurt when he finds that all of Taehyung’s stuff is gone. He won’t comb through
every inch of the penthouse looking for some small trace of him－a sweater, a painting, a box of
that stupidly childish breakfast cereal he liked to eat sometimes. He’s spent the last few days
preparing for the inevitable, building his walls up again, brick by brick, stone by stone, until his
heart is once more an impenetrable fortress just the way it should be. The way it was before Kim
Taehyung came crashing into his life. He won’t regret not ever getting to know what his lips tasted
like. His heart won’t shatter when he realizes Taehyung is truly gone and that he’ll never see him
again.

It won’t.

But when he opens the door to hear Yeontan’s incessant yapping and sees Taehyung sit up on the
sofa, rubbing his eyes, blinking blearily at him－

“Jungkook?” Taehyung breathes.

－well. His heart shatters anyway.

“Tae?” This is a dream. It has to be. There’s no way Taehyung is still here, that he’s chosen to stay
here.

Taehyung gets up from the sofa, cradling Yeontan in his arms, padding over to him in his bare feet,
clad in the flannel pajamas Jungkook had gotten him for Christmas. He stands there in front of
Jungkook, his fluffy hair a complete mess, looking at him with a disbelieving expression on his
face, as if Taehyung’s not quite sure if he’s dreaming.

“Tae,” Jungkook says again, “I－”

Taehyung’s jaw clenches and then he punches Jungkook in the shoulder. Hard.

“Ow, Tae, what the fu－”

“Okay, first of all, fuck you, you fucking asshole. Walking in here at three o’clock in the fucking
morning after you disappear for days, leaving me that stupid fucking note and not responding to
any of my calls, any of my texts. I thought you were fucking dead.” He inhales a deep breath and
then goes ranting on. “And second of all, if you think you can just bribe me into forgiving you by
paying me a ridiculous amount of money, boy, do you have another thing come－”

But Jungkook can’t help himself anymore. He steps forward and wraps his arms around Taehyung,
pulling him into a tight hug, Yeontan trapped between them. “God, I missed you,” he whispers,
burying his face in the crook of Taehyung’s neck.

“What, the big bad mafia boss missed lil’ ole’ me? I’m flattered,” Taehyung says, his voice
dripping with sarcasm. Then he sighs, one of his arms coming up to wrap around Jungkook’s
shoulders, squeezing him back. “I missed you too,” he murmurs.

They stay like that for a few long seconds, just holding onto each other until Yeontan starts to
squirm between them and they have to break apart so Taehyung can set the tiny puppy back on the
floor where he trots back over to his dog bed and clambers in.

“Have you been sleeping on the couch?” Jungkook asks, noticing the blanket on the sofa.
“Um, yeah,” Taehyung says awkwardly, rubbing a hand up and down his arm. “Your bed felt, I
dunno, too big for just one person, I guess.” He bites his lip, a flush creeping over his face.

“Why’d you stay?” Jungkook says, taking a step closer to him again, studying him closely. “Why
didn’t you leave?”

Taehyung shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says softly. “I mean, I thought about leaving but…I wanted to
make sure you got back okay. I was…really worried about you, Jungkook.”

“I know,” Jungkook says, reaching up and placing a hand on Taehyung’s cheek. “I’m sorry, I
shouldn’t have left like that, Tae. I wanted you to have your freedom. But,” he rubs his thumb over
Taehyung’s cheekbone, reveling in the softness of his skin, “I’m glad you’re still here.”

Taehyung is staring at him, his big brown eyes soft and wide and vulnerable, and Jungkook feels
the last of his resolve start to crumble as he brushes his thumb across Taehyung’s lower lip. “Tae,”
he whispers, feeling his throat tighten, “can I－”

But Taehyung is already closing the distance between them, cupping Jungkook’s face in his hands,
pressing his lips to Jungkook’s in a soft, gentle kiss.

It completely undoes him.

Taehyung’s lips move delicately but firmly against his in what feels like the most innocent sin, the
purest heaven. A million stars explode in his mind, shooting through his entire body, warming his
skin, his blood, every cell in his being. It’s as if he’s been locked away in a dark cave for his entire
life only to finally make his way outside and the press of Taehyung’s soft mouth against him is like
feeling the sunlight on his skin for the very first time.

It’s a kiss he would have killed for. Something he would have died for. Given everything that he
owned just to experience once.

Taehyung whimpers, swaying against him and it vaguely occurs to him that this is Taehyung’s first
kiss ever so he wraps his arms securely around his waist, steadying him. Now that he’s gotten over
the first shock of it, he takes the reins, kissing Taehyung back, showing him, guiding him.
Teaching him, without words, the pleasures of different pressures, when to cling and when to part,
how to tease with his tongue.

Taehyung moans as their tongues brush, pressing more firmly against Jungkook, their bodies
aligned, as if they’re trying to meld themselves into one form. Oxygen is running low, there
doesn’t seem to be enough air in the room but Jungkook can’t bring himself to pull away, he wants
Taehyung closer, closer, as close as physically possible. He’s never letting him go now. Not ever.

Without breaking the kiss, Jungkook grasps Taehyung’s thighs and lifts him clear off the floor,
bright fire snapping through him as Taehyung groans against his mouth, wrapping his legs around
Jungkook’s waist, his arms secured around Jungkook’s neck as they kiss and kiss and kiss. It
unleashes something in him and he stumbles blindly towards his bedroom, still carrying Taehyung
as he continues to kiss him, nearly tripping over Yeontan’s puppy playpen, banging into a wall
before they crash through the bedroom door and collapse on the bed, Taehyung underneath him.

“Baby,” Jungkook whispers against Taehyung’s lips in between deep, plundering kisses. “Oh,
baby…”

“Can’t…” Taehyung gasps, pushing lightly against his shoulders. “C-can’t breathe…”

Jungkook lifts his head, both of them gasping for air, only pausing for a mere two seconds before
Taehyung tugs him down again, their mouths hungry for each other. Jungkook kisses Taehyung
like he’s a starving man in need of sustenance and he’s at last stumbled across the manna of
heaven that is Taehyung’s lips. Milk and honey and sweet, life-giving nectar…

He tries to slow down, tries to pace himself by allowing his lips to wander over Taehyung’s face,
down to his neck, his earlobe but he inevitably returns to his mouth, plunging back in to what he
considers to be pure bliss. His heart is racing in his chest, about to burst but he can’t stop, doesn’t
know how to, feels like he needs to keep kissing Taehyung more than he needs to keep breathing.

“All of you,” Taehyung whispers when Jungkook lifts his head to heave in another lungful of
oxygen, “I want all of you, Jungkook.”

Jungkook gazes down at him, cupping his face in his hands. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Taehyung replies softly, a small smile curving his swollen lips and the sight of it makes
another galaxy of stars explode in his mind. “I’m sure.”

Jungkook leans down, capturing Taehyung’s lips again, his hands going to the top button on
Taehyung’s pajamas. But then he pauses, hesitating.

“What is it?” Taehyung whispers. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…” Jungkook pulls back, hovering over Taehyung, staring down at him. “I’ve never…had
sex without paying for it. Or having it paid for, even.”

Taehyung cocks an eyebrow at him. “Do you think the mechanics are any different if you’re not
paying for it?”

“No, I just－” He blows out a breath, slanting his gaze away. “I feel like I might be out of depth
here.”

“Hey,” Taehyung says softly, placing a hand on Jungkook’s cheek and Jungkook turns back to him.
“You’re not out of your depth, Jungkook. You’re with me.”

Taehyung’s voice is so full of warmth and gentleness and it’s all Jungkook needs to hear.

They take their time undressing each other in the darkness, only pausing their languid kisses to
press their lips to newly exposed skin. When it comes time for Taehyung to unbutton Jungkook’s
shirt, Jungkook rolls them over so that Taehyung is straddling him, and he grins up at him as he
lays flat on the bed.

“Rip it off.”

“What?”

“Go on. I want you to tear my shirt open, Tae.”

Taehyung snorts, shaking his head slightly. “You’re such a weirdo.” But he gets his hands on either
side of Jungkook’s shirt, ripping it open to expose Jungkook’s chest, a couple of buttons pinging
down onto the floor.

“Feisty little tiger, aren’t you?”

“Oh my god, shut－”

But Jungkook is already leaning up and kissing him, Taehyung smiling against his lips.
When they’re both completely naked, Jungkook takes his time preparing Taehyung, kissing
Taehyung into breathlessness as he fingers him open until Taehyung is practically weeping with
pleasure, begging for Jungkook to replace his fingers with his cock, to fill him up.

Jungkook seals his mouth over Taehyung’s as he slips inside of him, keeps kissing him as he fucks
into him slowly, their hands laced together on the pillow. The velvet softness of Taehyung’s lips,
the exquisite tight heat of him surrounding his cock, the fact that Taehyung is here, writhing
underneath him, moaning into his mouth, moving with him, whispering Jungkook’s name like a
prayer－Jungkook knows, without knowing how he possibly could have earned this, that he’s
found his personal heaven right here on earth.

Home, he thinks, as he pulls back to gaze into Taehyung’s eyes, heavy-lidded and soft, shimmering
with unshed tears. I’m home.

A quiet plea from Taehyung has him thrusting faster, harder, trapping Taehyung’s lips in a hot,
hard kiss as he drives them both to the brink of ecstasy, both of them clutching at each other as they
plunge over, coming together.

They stay there, bodies intertwined as they gasp for air, chests heaving and as Taehyung reaches
up and brushes a lock of damp hair away from Jungkook’s face, Jungkook feels the last remnants
of the fortress around his heart crumble away into dust.

“So…Brazil didn’t exactly go as planned, huh?”

Jungkook snorts, rolling his eyes. “That’s putting it midly.”

They’re still lying in bed, still naked but they’ve turned one of the bedside lamps on and let
Yeontan in because it wasn’t until after they finished having sex that they realized he had been
whining at the door almost the entire time.

The tiny puppy is now snoozing away on Jungkook’s stomach as he kept Taehyung pressed against
his side and recounted everything that had happened in Rio－tracking down their ‘source,’ his
disastrous meeting with Yoongi’s father, and why he hadn’t returned any of Taehyung’s calls or
messages. (Earning himself another hard smack on the shoulder in the process.)

“I can kind of understand why you did it,” Taehyung grumbles. “Still a dick move, though.”

“I know.”

Taehyung’s expression softens as he gazes at Jungkook, running a hand through his hair. “I’m
really sorry about what happened to your parents, Jungkook. I know it can’t have been easy,
dealing with all that stuff.”

Jungkook feels something in his chest ache at Taehyung’s sincere words and he reaches for his
hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”
 Taehyung nods, swallowing thickly and then he leans forward, pressing his lips to Jungkook’s
again. And even as Taehyung is kissing him, Jungkook still can’t quite believe that this is
happening. He hopes it’s not a dream, he hopes that this is real. But if it is a dream, he prays that he
never wakes up from it.

Taehyung pulls back slightly, stroking his thumb gently over Jungkook’s lower lip. “So…now that
we’re not tied to that dumb contract anymore…what exactly do we do now?”

Jungkook’s lips quirk up in a grin. “Can I take you somewhere? I want to take you somewhere.”

“Oh?” Taehyung raises an eyebrow at him. “Let me guess－you want to take me out to a movie?
Or a fancy restaurant, maybe? I’m assuming it’s somewhere cliche, that seems to be your style－”

“Brat,” Jungkook says, squeezing his ass before pulling him closer, careful not to upset Yeontan, “I
was thinking someplace a bit more exotic…”

Chapter End Notes

Sorry, no preview for next week's chapter. But I would love to read your predictions
about where you think Taekook might be going :)

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 Chapter 13
Chapter Summary

Jungkook takes Taehyung to 'a paradise born of fire...'

Chapter Notes

I loved reading everyone's predictions on where they might be going and at least three
or four people got it exactly right - you guys are awesome :D

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Taehyung gazes out the airplane window at the sapphire blue ocean sparkling under the sun, the
cluster of islands covered with lush, green palm trees.

“Wow,” he breathes, his forehead pressed right up against the glass. “It looks like some kind of
paradise.”

Beside him, he hears Jungkook snort. “If paradise was crawling with tourists. But, it’s the off-
season so it shouldn’t be too bad.”

Taehyung turns back to look at him. “How many times did you say you’ve been to Hawaii before?”

“Four times,” Jungkook says. “But always by myself, never with such,” he smirks, trailing a hand
across Taehyung’s thigh, “pleasant company…”

He leans forward but then pauses, waiting, and Taehyung smiles before closing the short distance
between them, pressing his lips to Jungkook’s. It’s a little habit he’s noticed over the last couple of
days, that whenever Jungkook leans in for a kiss, he waits for Taehyung to come to him, as if he
wants to make sure that every kiss shared between them is on Taehyung’s terms. Well, almost
every kiss. Just a couple of hours ago when the both of them had been feeling restless due to the
long flight, Jungkook had taken Taehyung’s hand and led him to the bathroom, locking the door
behind them before pressing Taehyung against the counter, kissing him fiercely. It still feels like a
brand new experience every time Jungkook kisses him, one that makes him feel like there are a
million sparks of golden light dancing on his lips, his tongue, sending tingling warmth rushing
throughout his entire body. He would have been content with just a make-out session until
Jungkook pulled away to mouth at his throat, asking him in a breathless sort of voice if Taehyung
wanted to ‘join the mile-high club.’ After Jungkook had explained to him what the ‘mile-high club’
was, Taehyung had nodded eagerly and Jungkook had ended up taking him, right there in the
bathroom, the two of them pushing their clothes aside in their haste, Jungkook still kissing him
hungrily as he thrust inside him.

Afterwards, when they had returned to their seats, hair messy and clothes rumpled, Taehyung could
tell, by the arch look one of the flight attendants gave them, that he had known exactly what the
two of them had been doing in the bathroom. Taehyung had blushed, busying himself with
checking on Yeontan, still sleeping in his little crate at their feet, but Jungkook had just chuckled
and signaled for the drink cart.

“Don’t worry,” he had murmured as the flight attendant bustled over. “It’s one of the advantages of
being in first class, you can get away with stuff like that. And what would they do anyways, kick
us off the plane?”

In any case, Taehyung had resolved to keep his hands to himself for the rest of the flight, but here
he is, kissing Jungkook again. He pulls back before they can get too carried away, leaning his
forehead against Jungkook’s.

“I still can’t believe we’re doing this,” he whispers. “Dropping everything and just flying to
Hawaii. It seems so…”

“Extravagant?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Well,” Jungkook says, sneaking another kiss onto his lips. “You’ll just have to get used to me
spoiling you, baby. You deserve nothing less. And besides,” he adds, grinning, “I couldn’t just take
you to some boring old movie theater, now, could I? That would only lead to accusations of me
being unimaginative.”

“Shut up.”

They land at the airport and are greeted by smiling local women in traditional Hawaiian dress,
throwing leis over their heads and they even give a small one to Yeontan, so it looks like he’s
wearing an elaborate floral collar. Taehyung is astonished by the transformation in Jungkook, who
seems to relax completely as soon as they get off the plane, smiling easily at all of the women,
inclining his head in respectful bows and strolling up to their awaiting driver, offering him a warm
handshake and saying something in English to make the middle-aged man chuckle jovially.

“This is Lou,” Jungkook tells Taehyung, switching back to Korean. “He works as the caretaker of
the house I own here, as well as being my driver.”

“...House?” Taehyung had just assumed they would be staying at a hotel.

Jungkook takes his hand, allowing Lou to lead the way outside to their awaiting car. “You’ll see.”
Jungkook’s house turns out to be a cozy two-story bungalow that sits right on the beach, nestled
among a grove of towering palm trees. Taehyung carries Yeontan out onto the wooden patio,
gaping out at the spectacular ocean-front view. “You own this place?”

“Mm hmm,” Jungkook says, coming up behind him and slipping his arms around his waist.
“Bought it when I turned twenty-one, a little home away from home if I ever wanted to get out of
the city for a while.” He drops a kiss onto Taehyung’s shoulder. “This whole stretch of beach is
mine too.”

“You have your own private beach?”

Jungkook nuzzles him, chuckling softly in his ear. “It’s better than being stuck on a crowded beach
with a bunch of tourists.” His voice turns low and teasing, a sensual purr. “Did I mention that this
happens to be a nude beach?”

Taehyung snorts, twisting around in Jungkook’s arms to look at him. “Oh? Is that optional or
mandatory?”

“For me, optional. For you, I’d say it’s mandatory.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “You would say that.” But he gives Jungkook a brief kiss before wriggling
out of his arms, determined to explore the rest of the house before they get up to any hijinks. It
seems to be a pretty modest place, worlds away from the chrome and glass of Jungkook’s fancy
penthouse－exposed wood ceiling beams, colorful woven mats thrown haphazardly over the bare
floorboards, potted ferns scattered all over the place, their fronds draped over the rustic teak
furniture. The bungalow has the feel of a grown-up tree house and Taehyung, for some odd reason,
immediately feels right at home. As if he’s already been here before.

He sets Yeontan down on the floor to allow him to sniff around and wanders over to a door that
leads out of the kitchen to the side of the house. Opening it, he finds himself in a little enclosed
outdoor space, surrounded by lush green plants and palm trees, a wooden walkway leading right up
to…

“Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me!” he exclaims. He turns to stare at Jungkook who is
leaning against the door frame. “You have a freaking outdoor shower?”

“And an indoor one upstairs,” Jungkook says, that devilish smirk on his lips. “But I prefer this one
when I’m here.”

“Do you?” Taehyung cocks an eyebrow at him, a grin tugging at his mouth. “I’m actually feeling
pretty gross from that long flight…” He reaches for the knob, fumbling a little bit with it until the
showerhead turns on, sending a cascade of warm water down on him, his clothes quickly getting
soaked from the spray, clinging to his skin. “I think a shower sounds like the best idea in the world
right now…”

Without another word, Jungkook comes to join him underneath the shower, his hands reaching for
the hem of Taehyung’s soaked tee shirt as their lips meet in a warm, wet kiss.

***
On the third day of their Hawaiian getaway, Jungkook thinks that it may have been a mistake
bringing Taehyung here. Because now he never wants to leave.

They gorge themselves on pineapples, mangoes and other tropical fruits that they pick up from the
local grocers only a few minutes away and Jungkook makes sure to take every opportunity to kiss
the sticky sweet juice from Taehyung’s lips once they’re done eating. He loses count of the number
of times they have sex in the outdoor shower, his hands running over Taehyung’s slippery smooth
skin, holding him up in his arms underneath the warm spray of water as he fucks up into him.
When they’re not doing that, they’re lounging around on the beach, watching Yeontan dig little
holes in the sand, sipping on iced tea and Mai Tais, going for dips in the ocean whenever the mood
takes them.

Jungkook considers himself immensely lucky that Taehyung fully embraces his ‘nude beach’ idea
and they both happily laze around underneath the sun, both of them completely naked, Taehyung
wearing nothing but the gold tiger bracelet Jungkook gave him and a pair of sunglasses.

This inevitably leads to a copious amount of fucking on the beach, the sand shifting underneath
them as Jungkook takes Taehyung from behind, lays him on his back and teases him by circling a
melting ice cube around his nipples before sucking the hardened peaks into his mouth, fucking into
him as the hot sun shines down on them. Once Jungkook kisses Taehyung through his orgasm,
they disentangle themselves and walk right into the ocean to wash off the sweat and sand,
Taehyung clinging to him like a koala bear, his legs wrapped around Jungkook’s waist as they bob
along with the waves, lips brushing in soft, lingering kisses.

Once night falls and the moon rises, they retreat to the patio where there’s a cushy futon big
enough for two (and Yeontan). Snuggled underneath a blanket, the little puppy curled up between
them, they kiss and they talk about everything and nothing until they drift off to sleep underneath a
river of stars.

He’s never felt more himself than he has here, away from Seoul and the mob and the constant
violence. And he’s never been happier, getting to share this place with Taehyung.

Now if he could only find a way to make it last forever.

On the fourth morning of their vacation, Jungkook wakes up at the crack of dawn to find Yeontan
curled up against his chest－but no Taehyung. Panicked, he quickly sits up, looking around for him
and heaves a sigh of relief when he sees him standing knee-deep in the ocean, watching the
sunrise.

Careful not to disturb Yeontan, Jungkook gets up from the futon and goes down to the beach, his
breath catching in his throat as he takes in the sight of Taehyung. Standing there, beautifully nude
and alluring, the waves swirling around his knees, his back to Jungkook as he faces the dawn, the
midnight blue sky slowly being taken over by shades of vermilion.

Taehyung turns to look at Jungkook over his shoulder, a soft smile on his face. “Good morning,”
he says quietly, holding a hand out to him. “Come here.”

Jungkook wades into the water, taking Taehyung’s hand and leaning in for a brief kiss before they
both turn back to the horizon, standing side by side as they watch the night slowly dissipate.

“It’s so beautiful,” Taehyung whispers. “I wish I had some paint with me. But I’m trying to
memorize the colours for when we get back to Seoul.”

“You could just take a picture.”

Taehyung laughs softly, squeezing his hand. “Look at you, being all practical. But I don’t think it’d
be the same, you know? I’d like to try and paint it from memory.”

Jungkook can kind of see what Taehyung is saying. Because even if he were to take a picture of
Taehyung in this very moment, he doesn’t think any camera on earth would be able to capture his
incredible beauty. Right now, under the golden light of the dawn, Taehyung seems as if he’s some
sort of demi-god, birthed from sea and sky and Jungkook almost feels unworthy to look upon his
face.

This doesn’t stop him from pulling Taehyung in for a kiss though, unable to restrain himself any
longer. And when Taehyung presses against him, warm and naked, lips soft and parted just for
him, Jungkook feels even more of his self-control slip away and he ends up laying Taehyung down
on the shore, working him open with his tongue, his fingers, before thrusting inside him, water
swirling around them as he makes sure Taehyung greets the day with cries of pleasure.

“What is so fucking funny?”

“Nothing. Just never thought I’d ever see you in a tacky Hawaiian shirt, that’s all.”

“It’s not tacky.”

“Jungkook, it has parrots on it.”

“So? Doesn’t mean it’s tacky. Besides, when I’m in Hawaii, I like to dress like the locals.”

“I’m pretty sure the locals don’t dress like that…” Yeontan, cradled in the crook of Taehyung’s
arm, lets out a little yip of agreement.

“Brat.” Jungkook gives Taehyung a light smack on the ass before taking his hand and leading him
into the outdoor market, where a bunch of other tourists are gathered, wandering around with tiki
drinks that have little umbrellas sticking out of them.

Taehyung looks a bit uncertain, trying to tug his hand away. “Jungkook, wait, I don’t think we
should be－”

“No, it’s okay,” Jungkook reassures him, tightening his grip on Taehyung’s hand. “They’re more
open-minded about that kind of thing here.”

“Oh…”

Sure enough, their hand-holding doesn’t draw any attention, except a few friendly smiles and
Taehyung relaxes considerably as they browse around the stalls, taking in the wares on offer: hand-
painted decorative surfboards, turtles and tiki masks carved out of wood, and Hawaiian shirts that
Jungkook considers to be actually tacky. Taehyung becomes particularly enamored with a blue one
covered in pink flamingos so Jungkook buys it for him and Taehyung puts it on over his tank top.
“There,” he says, passing Yeontan to Jungkook while he buttons it up. “Now we both look tacky.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to retort but then Taehyung gets distracted by what’s on display in the
next stall over.

“Oooh,” he says, wandering over and Jungkook follows him. “Look at these!”

Displayed in the stall is a series of paintings, each one depicting a type of local flower, done in
exquisite, close-up detail: birds of paradise, cheery yellow hibiscus, and vivid orange tiger lilies.
Placed around the stall are bouquets of the real flowers, adding to the feel that they’re standing in
the middle of a tropical garden.

“Very pretty,” Taehyung says in English to the artist, an old grey-haired woman and she beams at
him, nodding her thanks.

“You want one?” Jungkook asks, coming to stand beside him, checking out the painting of the tiger
lily.

“God, I’m so tempted…but it almost seems kind of selfish, you know? To take one home and hide
it away where no one else can enjoy it. If everyone did that, there wouldn’t be any art galleries or
museums to go to.”

“That’s an…interesting philosophy.”

Taehyung laughs. “I know it sounds weird. But I think just because you think something’s
beautiful, doesn’t mean you need to own it.”

“Okay, now I know you’re talking about me.”

“Oh, hush,” Taehyung says, pecking him on the cheek. “We’re past that.” He takes Yeontan from
Jungkook and wanders over to the next stall but Jungkook stays, looking at the paintings－and
then his eyes fall on the bouquets of brightly coloured flowers.

“Uh…how much?” he asks the old woman in English, nodding at one of the bouquets.

She gives him a kind smile, handing him a bundle of flowers. “No charge.”

He thanks her and hurries over to Taehyung, who is looking over a table laden with handmade
jewelry. He looks up, letting out a little gasp of surprise as Jungkook hands him the flowers before
his face breaks out into a wide smile.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, leaning in to give Jungkook a kiss. “No one’s ever gotten me flowers
before.”

“Hmm…guess I need to up my game and make it a regular thing.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Taehyung blushes and looks back down at the table, his gaze
lingering over bracelets grouped together in pairs, woven from colorful thread. “Uh, what does that
sign say?”

“It says that they’re ‘friendship bracelets,’ buy two for five dollars.”

“Ah, I thought that’s what they were. Here, hold onto Tannie for a minute.” He passes the puppy
over to Jungkook again and then asks the lady minding the stall in halting English for two sets of
the bracelets－one set made from green and gold thread, and one set made from blue and red.
Once he hands her the money in exchange for the bracelets, he puts the green and gold ones in the
pocket of his board shorts. “For me and Jimin,” he explains. And then he picks up the red and blue
bracelets, putting the flowers down on the table before tying one around Jungkook’s left wrist.
“And these are for you and me.”

Jungkook holds very still as Taehyung finishes tying the bracelet around his wrist, gazing at him
the entire time. Then he hands Yeontan back to Taehyung before solemnly tying the other bracelet
around Taehyung’s wrist, right next to the gold tiger bracelet. Something about Taehyung buying
them matching bracelets makes his throat constrict for some reason and he has to swallow the lump
rising in his throat and compose himself before looking back up at him.

“There,” Taehyung says softly, smiling at him. “It’s official now. We’re friends.”

Jungkook frowns at him. “Wait a minute…did you just friendzone me?”

“Yep,” Taehyung says, a cheeky grin on his face. “Just two platonic bros who most certainly do
not have sex. Because we’re friends and friends don’t have sex, that would be so weird－”

“Come here, you fucking brat,” Jungkook says before pulling him in for a long, deep kiss, being
careful not to squish Yeontan between them.

Once they pull away, both of them are slightly breathless. “What was that about us being just
friends?” Jungkook rasps.

“I－”

“Are you two on your honeymoon?”

They both turn to see the lady at the jewelry stall smiling at them. Taehyung looks slightly puzzled
and Jungkook realizes that he must not have understood her question. God, he had been so caught
up in Taehyung, he had completely forgotten that he was kissing him in the middle of a crowded
market.

“Uh…yeah,” Jungkook answers her in English. “Just got married last week.”

“Ah, I thought so! That’s wonderful, congratulations!”

Jungkook thanks her and, making sure Taehyung has his flowers, quickly guides him away from
the table.

“Wait…what did she say?”

“What? Oh, nothing, just asked us if we were enjoying Hawaii so far.”

“Are you sure? I didn’t hear her say Hawaii. Or Maui.”

“Why don’t we head back to the beach?” Jungkook says too loudly, steering Taehyung out of the
market. “So we can bro down with each other. You know, drink a couple of beers, throw a football
around and totally not have sex.”

“Well…” Taehyung replies, giving him a sidelong glance, “what’s a little platonic sex between
friends?”
Evening has fallen by the time they get back to the beach, a full moon casting silvered light on the
waves and Jungkook gets the idea in his head to build a fire right there on the beach for Taehyung
so he won’t get chilled by the cool night air.

“You’re being a bit extra, don’t you think?” Taehyung says, lying on the blanket spread out on the
sand beside the pile of driftwood that Jungkook had gathered. “A couple of more blankets would
have sufficed.”

“I’m not being extra,” Jungkook insists, striking a match and lighting the wood. “Besides, what’s
the point of having your own private beach if you can’t build your very own bonfire?”

“True…”

A spark catches, lights, and the fire crackles to life, emitting a soft orange glow. Satisfied,
Jungkook dusts off his hands and goes to lie beside Taehyung, getting an arm around him and
Taehyung snuggles in close to his side. Thankfully, Yeontan is snoozing away on the futon on the
patio so it’s just the two of them.

Taehyung sighs, slipping his hand underneath Jungkook’s shirt, rubbing his stomach. “It’s so nice
here,” he says quietly, “it’ll be hard to go back to Seoul, back to a dull, grey winter.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Jungkook replies, tracing his hand over Taehyung’s back. It’s not
just going back to the cold winter that he’s not looking forward to; he feels at peace in this place
with Taehyung, as if this stretch of beach is a small slice of paradise meant only for them.

He rubs Taehyung’s arm, his fingertips grazing over the woven friendship bracelet and he turns
onto his side so he’s facing Taehyung. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Taehyung’s face is visible in the darkness thanks to the bonfire right beside him, the golden flames
reflected in his eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

“When we get back to Seoul, will you stay with me? Like, I know that we’re officially friends
now,” Jungkook says, fiddling with the bracelet on Taehyung’s wrist and Taehyung smiles, “but I
was kind of hoping we could be…more.”

“Hmm…” Taehyung tilts his head to the side, a thoughtful look on his face. “Jungkook, are you
asking me to be your boyfriend?”

Jungkook looks down at where his hand is still fidgeting with Taehyung’s bracelet, concentrating
on the pattern of the red and blue threads woven together. “Yeah,” he says softly, “I guess I am.”

Boyfriend doesn’t seem like an adequate enough word though, to describe what he wants Taehyung
to be to him. What he wants them to be to each other. But he doesn’t know what other word to use
so he supposes ‘boyfriend’ will have to suffice. He certainly doesn’t want to be ‘just friends.’
Taehyung reaches up, cupping Jungkook’s cheek. “Yes,” he whispers, stroking his thumb gently
across Jungkook’s skin. “My answer is yes.”

“Yeah?” Something stutters in Jungkook’s chest as he gazes at Taehyung. “When we get back to
Seoul, you’ll stay with me?”

“As long as you promise to stay with me. No more taking off to the other side of the world and not
contacting me for days on end.”

Jungkook laughs softly, leaning closer. “I won’t do that again, Tae, I promise.” His lips graze
Taehyung’s, a fleeting taste. “I promise…”

He goes in for another taste and then another and soon passes the point of no return, where he can’t
stop kissing Taehyung, can’t stop himself from sucking Taehyung’s plump lower lip between his
teeth, biting down on it gently before licking into Taehyung’s mouth, the kiss evolving into
something heated, addictive. He groans and rolls Taehyung over onto his back, getting on top of
him and covering his body with his own. Taehyung makes a helpless little noise, whimpering into
Jungkook’s mouth, his hands tangling in Jungkook’s hair, spreading his legs wider to
accommodate him as they grind their hips together, the friction feverish and heady.

“Oh, god, fuck me,” Taehyung breathes as Jungkook moves to suck a mark onto his neck. “Please
fuck me.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook grins as he presses a kiss to the dip between Taehyung’s collarbone. “Well, I
guess since we’re boyfriends now, we can do that sort of thing…”

“Oh my god, shut up and just take my clothes off already.”

Jungkook obliges him, both of them shedding their clothes between passionate kisses, Taehyung
laughing as Jungkook fumbles with the tie on his shorts, his eagerness making his fingers clumsy.
Once they’re both finally naked, Taehyung lies back on the blanket, spreading his legs invitingly,
pulling Jungkook close for a long, deep kiss.

“Hurry,” he whispers against Jungkook’s lips, “come on, Jungkook, hurry.”

Jungkook groans, his cock hard and aching, rubbing against Taehyung’s thigh. But as badly as he
wants to just prep Taehyung so he can slip inside him, there’s something he wants to do first.

“Hold on, baby,” he murmurs, kissing his way down Taehyung’s body, sucking one of Taehyung’s
nipples into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue for a few seconds before heading lower. “Let me
try something…”

He settles himself between Taehyung’s legs, pressing a few biting kisses along the soft flesh of
Taehyung’s inner thighs before turning his attention to Taehyung’s cock, arched stiff against his
soft stomach, leaking precum onto his skin.

“I’ve been so selfish, Tae,” Jungkook whispers, his tongue darting out to lick at the head and he
hears Taehyung’s sharp intake of breath. “I want to make you feel good…want to make you feel as
good as I do when you do this for me…”

“You d-do make me feel good,” Taehyung stammers and Jungkook glances up at him, the
expression on his face torn between arousal and uncertainty. “But you don’t have to do that if you
don’t want to…”

“Trust me, baby, I want to.” Jungkook grasps Taehyung’s cock in his hand, starts to lower his
mouth. “I’ve never done this before, though, so you have to let me know what feels good for
you…”

He starts slow, concentrating on sucking the tip into his mouth, swirling his tongue around
Taehyung’s slit to collect his salty precum, mixing it with his saliva to make everything slicker,
wetter. He sucks harder, tightening his lips around Taehyung’s cock, pumping his hand up and
down Taehyung’s shaft, trying to incorporate what feels good for him when he’s on the receiving
end. Taehyung lets out a desperate moan, his hands coming up to tangle in Jungkook’s hair,
gripping tight.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he whispers. “God, Jungkook, that feels so fucking good…”

Encouraged, Jungkook bobs his head faster, hollowing his cheeks, getting more and more turned
on by every moan he manages to elicit from Taehyung. It’s only ever been with him that he’s
discovered that giving pleasure is just as gratifying as receiving it, if not more so. Being able to
make Taehyung moan and writhe and come apart is like getting hooked on the world’s most potent
drug－he feels as if he’ll never get enough, no matter how many times he makes Taehyung come.

He pulls off for a couple of seconds, quickly sucking on two of his fingers, coating them with
saliva before taking Taehyung’s cock back into his mouth, one hand wrapped around the base
while he prods at Taehyung’s hole with the other hand, slipping one of his slicked-up fingers
inside.

Taehyung’s hips jerk upward, causing Jungkook to gag slightly but he doesn’t mind because he’s
all in now, repeatedly letting Taehyung’s cock hit the back of his throat while he fingers him open
with the other hand, pressing them relentlessly against his prostate, the slick sounds of his mouth
on Taehyung’s cock and his fingers fucking his hole sounding absolutely filthy in the tranquil
night, bordering on obscene.

“J-Jungkook,” Taehyung keens, squirming underneath him. “Jungkook, oh my g-god－s-stop, I’m

gonna come－fuck, you’re gonna make me c-come－”

Jungkook pulls off for a second to catch his breath, still stroking Taehyung as he looks up at his
gorgeous face, flushed red with heat and desire. “It’s okay, baby,” he says, “you can come in－”

He had been about to say ‘you can come in my mouth’ but it’s a bit too late for that because
Taehyung is already coming, crying out as spurts of cum erupt from his cock, landing on
Jungkook’s cheeks, his chin, even a little bit on his nose. He startles, blinking in surprise at the
feeling of the warm wet liquid sliding down his face. Okay, he hadn’t really been expecting that.

Taehyung sighs in contentment and then glances down at Jungkook, his mouth falling open in
horror. “Oh, no, I’m sorry,” he says, sounding a bit panicked as he sits up, using a corner of the
blanket to wipe off Jungkook’s face. “I didn’t mean to give you a facial.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook says, smiling as Taehyung wipes the sticky cum off his chin. “I don’t mind.
Kinda hot, actually.”

“Oh? Glad you think so.” Taehyung takes Jungkook’s face in his hands, kissing him deeply before
gently pushing on Jungkook’s shoulders, making him lie on his back. “Let me return the favor,
boss man…”

Taehyung kneels between his legs, taking Jungkook’s cock into his mouth, gazing up at him
through hooded eyes as he sucks him slow, taking his time. Jungkook inhales sharply, his head
falling back against the blanket, his hands weaving through Taehyung’s soft hair.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, “love your mouth on me…feels so fucking amazing…”

Taehyung hums around his cock, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure cascading through his
stomach and even though Jungkook would much prefer coming by fucking his lover into
incoherence, he doesn’t think he’ll last much longer.

But as if reading his mind, Taehyung pulls off of his cock with a wet-sounding pop and swiftly
climbs on top of him, straddling Jungkook’s hips.

“God, I’m sorry, but I need it,” Taehyung whines, reaching behind him and pressing the tip of
Jungkook’s cock against his hole. “I know I already came but I want more, Jungkook, god, I need
more－”

“You want more?” Jungkook rasps, lining himself up and starting to push his way in. He grasps
Taehyung’s hips, roughly shoving him down onto his cock, Taehyung crying out as Jungkook
effectively impales him on his cock, bottoming out in one swift stroke. “How’s this for more?”

“Oh, fuck yes.” Taehyung throws his head back, placing his hands on Jungkook’s chest for
leverage as he bucks his hips up, setting a rough and ready pace as he begins to ride him.

“Fuck yeah, baby, bounce on it,” Jungkook grunts, his hands digging into Taehyung’s hips, gazing
up at him, “take what you fucking need.”

Taehyung’s only answer is a steady moan as he moves up and down on Jungkook’s cock, his
mouth open in a round, beautiful ‘O,’ his entire body jolting as Jungkook spurs him on with a sharp
smack on the ass.

“Come here, baby,” Jungkook growls, reaching up and grasping Taehyung’s face in his hands,
pulling him down for a hot, filthy kiss as he continues to fuck up into him. Taehyung gasps into his
mouth, clutching at Jungkook’s shoulders as his movements become more erratic, slamming
himself down on Jungkook’s cock until he shudders above him, coming again.

“Fuck.” Taehyung slumps against him, burying his face in Jungkook’s neck, his entire body
trembling. Jungkook bites back a groan as he feels Taehyung clench around his cock, still hard and
pulsing inside him.

Taehyung lifts his head to look at him, his eyes slightly glazed. “You haven’t come yet.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jungkook whispers, reaching up to brush Taehyung’s hair away from his face. “I
only care about making you feel good.”

Taehyung’s face splits into a loopy grin before he leans down to nuzzle against Jungkook’s neck.
“Well, aren’t you generous…” He takes Jungkook’s earlobe between his teeth, tugging at it and
Jungkook groans, feeling his dick pulse. “You wanna make me feel good? Then keep fucking me,”
Taehyung whispers in his ear, grinding down on him. “Wanna come again, I want more…”

“Holy fuck, are you sure?”

“Yeah…please, Jungkook, more…”

“Jesus, Tae.” He rolls Taehyung over onto his back, leaning down to capture his lips, licking into
his mouth as he begins to thrust slowly in and out. He pulls back, smirking slightly. “I can’t tell if
you’re insatiable or if I just haven’t done a good enough job of satisfying you tonight.”

“It’s the－oh, fuck－first one…” Taehyung wraps his legs around Jungkook’s waist, pulling him
closer. “I can’t get enough of you, Jungkook…I-I don’t want this to end…”

Jungkook pauses, gazing down at Taehyung, the moon above them and the fire beside them casting
him in shades of silver and gold. “I don’t want this to end either, Tae.”

Taehyung blinks up at him, looking confused for a second but then he nods, swallowing thickly.
He lifts his hips, a silent plea, and Jungkook starts to move again, his eyes locked on Taehyung’s
face. Taehyung digs his heels into Jungkook’s lower back, drawing him in even deeper, soft moans
tumbling out of his mouth as Jungkook thrusts faster, harder, hitting his sweet spot.

He leans down to seal his mouth over Taehyung’s, catching his moans in his mouth as he drives
into him, lacing their hands together on the blanket, heat blooming across his skin from the fire
beside him, from being inside Taehyung. And it’s true, he never wants this to end, wants to stay
suspended in this moment with Taehyung until the end of time, until the universe fractures apart
and the stars fall away into the darkness.

“Be with me,” he whispers against Taehyung’s lips. “Be with me, Tae.”

Be with me forever…

“Yes,” Taehyung cries, coming apart underneath him, “yes, Jungkook, yes－”

Jungkook comes with him, pushed over the edge by the feeling of Taehyung wrapped around him,
spilling inside of him with one final hard thrust. He collapses on top of Taehyung, burying his face
in the crook of his neck, their chests heaving for air. As they catch their breath, Jungkook feels
Taehyung’s hands stroking his hair, hears his soft whisper in his ear.

“I love you.”

In that moment, he feels his heart break. Because being loved by Taehyung is the most incredible
thing he could ever hope for.

But he knows that he doesn’t deserve it.

***

>when r u coming back? we NEED you boss<

Jungkook sighs, typing out a brief text that he’d be back tomorrow before throwing his phone
down on the futon cushion, staring out at the ocean. It’s their fifth and final morning in Hawaii, as
reluctant as Jungkook is to think about this tropical getaway with Taehyung coming to an end.

“Yoongi again?” Taehyung asks from beside him, his head resting on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Told him we’d be back tomorrow.”

Taehyung presses a kiss to Jungkook’s shoulder before turning to watch Yeontan frolicking around
on the beach in front of them. “I suppose we can’t stay away forever. But it’ll be nice to get back to
my studio, I guess.” But Taehyung doesn’t sound convinced of his own words.

“Tae…could you see yourself living here?”

“Living here?” Taehyung sits up to look at Jungkook in the face before glancing away, staring
around at the beach, the ocean waves rolling gently up to the shore. “I don’t know…hard to say,
I’ve only been here for a few days. And it’s so different from Korea. But…it is beautiful. I’m
pretty sure I could get used to a place like this.”

Jungkook takes Taehyung’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I’m planning on making this place
my retirement home.”

“Oh?” Taehyung turns to him again, a slight frown on his face. “You mean…you’re planning on
retiring someday? Like, you want to leave the Yong Jegug?”

“I do now,” Jungkook says quietly. “Now that I’ve got you. I don’t want to be a part of that world
forever.” A vision of what happened to his mother, married to a gang leader for so long, flashes
through his mind but he stubbornly pushes it away. He wouldn’t let anything like that happen to
Taehyung, not ever. “So when I do retire, would you want to come here and live with me?”

“I…” Taehyung trails off, looking back out across the ocean. “When would that be though? I
mean, when would you retire?”

“I don’t know.”

“Six months? A year? Ten years?”

“Tae, I don’t know.” Jungkook blows out a frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. “All
I know is that I want you here with me when I decide to leave. That’s why I’m asking you now if
you can see yourself living here.”

Taehyung raises Jungkook’s hand to his lips, brushing his lips softly against his knuckles in a
featherlight kiss. “I told you I loved you last night,” he whispers, gazing at Jungkook over the top
of their clasped hands. “And I meant it.”

Jungkook gazes at him for a few long seconds, a terrible ache rising in his chest. “Tae, I…care
about you.”

Something flashes across Taehyung’s expression, there and gone in the span of a second, but not
too fast that Jungkook doesn’t see what it is.

Disappointment.

“I know you do,” Taehyung says, lowering their hands back down to the futon cushion between
them, a sad smile on his face. “And I didn’t say it to hear it back, I said it because I wanted you to
know.”

“I know.” Jungkook doesn’t know why it’s so hard for him to say those three little words to
Taehyung. It should be easy, Taehyung is the most important person to him in the entire world, the
center of his whole universe－but his father had said it to his mother, all the time, and look where it
had gotten her. And if it is love he feels for Taehyung, why does it scare him so much? As if a part
of him knows that nothing good will come of him loving Taehyung, or even declaring it out loud.
 “I think I could see myself living here…” Taehyung says and Jungkook’s heartbeat picks up,
hardly daring to hope－

“...but it’s kind of hard to say yes for sure if you can’t tell me when that’s going to be. I’m not sure
I could wait forever, you know?” Taehyung looks up at him, his beautiful eyes full of uncertainty
and, underlying that, a quiet sort of sorrow. “I just think I would need to think about it first.”

Jungkook nods, looking away from him. “Yeah, I get it,” he mutters. “I don’t need an answer right
away.”

Taehyung sighs, resting his head on Jungkook’s shoulder again, squeezing his hand as they watch
the waves rush up to the shore in silence.

Chapter End Notes

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 Chapter 14
Chapter Summary

"I rage against the trials of love..."

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“So,” Yoongi says, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his coat. “Did you have fun in Hawaii with
Taehyung?”

“Watch your fucking tone, Yoongi. I know it was irresponsible for me to just take off like that,
okay? But I’m back now so you can save the fucking lecture.”

They’re standing on the roof of Yoongi’s apartment building, the chill of the night air causing their
breath to cloud in front of them as they speak, the twinkling lights of Seoul flickering around them.
Jungkook fiddles with the friendship bracelet on his wrist, itching to get back home to Taehyung.

“I wasn’t going to lecture you. Why would I lecture you?” Yoongi’s voice is dripping with
sarcasm. “You only gave me the vaguest idea of what went down in Rio, told me my father is
planning on coming back to fucking usurp you and oh, by the fucking way, I’m taking Taehyung to
Hawaii for a fucking week, I’ll send you a fucking postcard.”

“Okay, you made your fucking point,” Jungkook says irritably. “Now what was it that you wanted
to tell me?”

“What I wanted to tell you, boss, is that he’s no longer in Rio and that we lost track of him again.
We think he’s still somewhere in South America but we can’t say for sure.”

Jungkook gapes at Yoongi. “You don’t know where he fucking is?”

“Of course I don’t know where he fucking is!” Yoongi bursts out, pacing around the rooftop. “If I
did, I would fucking tell you!” He stops pacing, fixing Jungkook with a hard stare. “We need a
plan, boss. I know he said he would give us a few months at the very least but that doesn’t fucking
mean anything. He could show up tomorrow for all we know.”

“Right,” Jungkook mutters. He sighs, resting his elbows on the wall of the rooftop, gazing down at
the city below. “Yoongi…you ever think about leaving?”

“The Yong Jegug?” Yoongi asks and Jungkook nods. “Well, yeah, ever since I met Jimin, I’ve
thought about it. But I’m not going to fucking abandon you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Jungkook shakes his head. “No, that’s not it, it’s just…what if we did leave?”

“...not sure I follow you, boss.”

“What if we just disbanded the inner circle and we all got the fuck out of Seoul. Out of Korea if we
have to. Just…leave this all behind.”
Yoongi frowns at him, as if he has no idea what Jungkook is talking about. “But if we did that,” he
says slowly, “my father would just come back and take over the city－”

“Well, let him fucking have it!” Jungkook sweeps his arm out impatiently, indicating the
skyscrapers around them. “I don’t fucking want it!”

Yoongi just stares at him for a few long seconds and Jungkook shifts uncomfortably under his
gaze. “Okay,” Yoongi says finally, “let’s say we did leave. I think you know what would happen.”

Jungkook closes his eyes, rubbing at his forehead. “A power vacuum.”

The Yong Jegug was the main cog in the machine that all the other gangs in Seoul revolved
around. Take that away and everything would be sent spinning out of control. Corruption in the
police stations and city hall boiling over into an overflow of complete chaos, bloody gang wars
fought openly out in the street, innocent citizens caught in the crossfire…

Like a multinational investment bank, the Yong Jegug was simply too big, too powerful, to fail. If
they withdrew from Seoul, it would set everything else in the city collapsing in on itself.

Just like a house of cards…

“If we leave, we’re basically handing the keys to the kingdom over to my father,” Yoongi says,
coming to stand beside him, gazing out at the city. “And I don’t want to think what he would do
with that kind of power. He doesn’t have a knack for diplomacy like your father did, JK, he’s too
greedy, too selfish for that. He’ll want to control everything.” He turns to look at Jungkook, his
expression full of a sad sort of resignation. “You really think that if we leave, he won’t hunt us? He
wants to fucking destroy you, man. So even if we left the country, I don’t think there’s any place
we could go where he wouldn’t be able to find us. There’d be no peace, no freedom. We’d
basically have to be on the run for the rest of our lives.” He exhales heavily, his breath coming out
in a thin stream of mist that floats away into the night. “Trust me, I want to take Jimin and get the
fuck out of here as much as you want to do that with Taehyung. But we’ll never be able to leave
this life behind if we don’t take care of my father first.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenches but he nods stiffly, staring out at the city without seeing it.

There would be no leaving the Yong Jegug until Min SungWon was no longer a threat.

They were trapped.

***

Jungkook strides down the hallway to his penthouse, clutching a bouquet of flowers in his hands.
The guards stationed outside the door all bow, one of them hastily putting his phone back in his
pocket; Jungkook strongly suspects he had been playing Fruit Ninja on it before he arrived.

“I see you with your fucking phone out again, I’ll put your balls in a blender,” Jungkook snarls,
jabbing his finger at the guards chest. “Stay alert.”

“Y-yes, boss.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes and goes up to the door, Jin standing right beside it. “Anything to report?”

“No, it was all smooth sailing when we took them out earlier,” Jin replies. “I’m pretty sure he’s in
his studio right now.”

Jungkook smiles as he punches in the code on the keypad. “Why am I not surprised?”

He goes inside, shutting the door and locking it firmly behind him before shucking off his overcoat
and heading over to Taehyung’s studio. The door is ajar and he sees Yeontan appear through the
gap, scampering up to him, greeting him with a cheerful ‘yip!’

“Come here, you little furball,” Jungkook says, scooping him up with one hand and holding him
close to his chest. “I have guard dogs that could eat you up in one bite, you know. Yes they could,
you’d be a goner for sure…”

“Stop threatening to feed my puppy to your guard dogs!” Taehyung calls from inside his studio and
Jungkook grins, nudging the door open with his foot.

“I wasn’t threatening, I was merely making an observation about how fucking runty he is.”

Taehyung glances up from his painting, shaking his head slightly and smiling at him and it’s this
very reason that Jungkook is always so eager to get home whenever he has to leave his penthouse
－seeing Taehyung’s smile, confirming for himself that his boyfriend remains safe and secure.

“For you,” he says, going up to him and handing him the flowers and Taehyung takes them, a faint
blush rising on his cheeks.

“Thank you." He leans in to give Jungkook a soft, lingering kiss－yet another reason he always
aches for Taehyung when he’s away. Taehyung pulls back, looking shyly down at the flowers.
“This is the third time this week, though…you really don’t have to spoil me like this.”

“How many times do I have to tell you, baby,” Jungkook says, reaching up and tucking a stray
strand of hair behind Taehyung’s ear, “I like spoiling you. I’d give you all the flowers in the entire
world if I could.”

“I know you would,” Taehyung says softly, still gazing down at the flowers. “But then－”

“I know, I know, nobody else would be able to enjoy them. I’ll settle for bringing home a bouquet
every other day.” He sets a wriggling Yeontan down on the floor and changes the subject before
Taehyung starts protesting again. “What are you working on? More Hawaii paintings?” he asks,
nodding at the canvas currently sitting on Taehyung’s easel.

“Yeah…can’t get it out of head. I’m sure I’ll paint it out of my system eventually but…”

The painting is an almost exact rendering of the ocean view outside of Jungkook’s Hawaiian
bungalow, crimson and gold light reflecting off the waves, depicting a sunset as opposed to the
sunrise paintings Taehyung had done throughout the week. It’s so realistic that all Jungkook wants
to do is take Taehyung’s hand and step into the painting with him and get as far away from Seoul
as possible.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around Taehyung’s waist, giving him a squeeze and
pressing a kiss to his temple. “Almost as beautiful as you.”

“Did you just call my painting ugly?”

“Enough, brat. You know what I mean.” Jungkook turns Taehyung more fully to face him, slipping
both arms around his waist, holding him close. “Did you have fun at the park today? Jin told me he
took you guys out for the afternoon.”

“Uh, yeah, we did.” Something flickers across Taehyung’s face and he carefully sets the flowers
down on his drawing table. “It was just me, Jimin, Yeontan－”

“Mmm,” Jungkook says, leaning in to nuzzle his neck. “That sounds nice－”

“－and six of your bodyguards.” Jungkook pulls back to look at Taehyung, who is now wearing a
slightly fixed smile, a spark of that familiar fire flickering in his eyes.

Jungkook feels himself tense, stepping back from Taehyung. “Yeah?” he says roughly. “What’s
your point?”

“My point is six fucking bodyguards is too fucking many!” Taehyung exclaims, crossing his arms
over his chest. “It’s excessive.”

“It’s not excessive, Tae.”

“Oh, come on, six? I felt like me and Jimin were prisoners being escorted to our very own cell
block the entire time we were out!”

“Tae, it’s not excessive!” Jungkook says, raising his voice. “Not when it comes to protecting the
one person that I can’t stand to lose!”

Taehyung blinks at him then glances away, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Well, what about
you?" he asks.

“What about me?”

“I mean what about the fact that I have to constantly worry whenever you go out somewhere?” He
faces Jungkook again, glaring at him. “How many bodyguards do you have protecting you,
Jungkook? Because I don’t know if I made this obvious enough but I can’t stand to lose you
either!”

Silence descends between them, heavy and oppressive, and Taehyung slumps down onto the stool
beside his easel, holding his head in his hands. “I don’t like being like this,” Jungkook hears him
whisper. “I just get so scared when you go out…”

“Hey,” Jungkook says, going over to him and placing his hands on his shoulders and Taehyung
lifts his head to look at him, looking utterly miserable. “Nothing’s going to happen to me, okay?”

“How can you even say that?” Taehyung says, shaking his head slightly. “The work you do, the
kind of life that you’re a part of…how can you honestly say that nothing is going to happen to
you?”
“Nothing’s guaranteed, my little tiger,” Jungkook says, cupping Taehyung’s face in his hands. “I’ll
give you that. But I have a guard with me at all times when I go out, I carry a weapon, and I know
how to protect myself.”

Taehyung huffs. “And you’re saying I don’t?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying.” Jungkook leans in to place a whisper-soft kiss against
Taehyung’s lips before pulling back again. “I’m saying that when it comes to your protection, the
number of bodyguards assigned to you is non-negotiable. I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it has to
be right now.”

Taehyung nods mutely, placing his hand on Jungkook’s ribcage, right where his scar is. “I don’t
care about my own safety, Jungkook,” he says quietly. “I care about yours.”

“I know, baby,” Jungkook replies. “I know and I don’t want you to worry. I’ll check in more often,
every hour if you want me to－”

“No, you don’t need to do that,” Taehyung says. He heaves a sigh, gazing up at him. “Just promise
me you’ll be careful?”

“I’ll be careful,” Jungkook says, leaning down for another kiss. “I promise.”

The kiss turns heated, sensual, and as Taehyung presses against him, moaning into his mouth,
Jungkook sweeps him up into his arms and carries him to the bedroom, their argument forgotten.

***

Taehyung tells himself it’s fine.

Yes, the extra security he’s placed under is stifling at times, especially when he goes out
somewhere, either with Jungkook or with Jimin. The guards back off a bit when Jungkook is
present, giving them some space, but when he’s out by himself or with Jimin, they tend to close
ranks in a claustrophobic circle around him. (Jin always shoots him an apologetic look but presses
in close anyways.)

Taehyung knows it’s for a good reason, that there’s the ever-present threat of Yoongi’s homicidal
father coming back to Seoul and that Jungkook is just worried about his safety. Hell, he’s worried
about Jungkook’s safety too. Wishes that the men guarding him were protecting Jungkook instead.

The one person he can’t stand to lose. The man that he loves.

Taehyung tells himself that it could be worse. At least he’s still allowed to go out. But faced with
the choice of going out somewhere escorted by Jungkook’s guards or staying home at the
penthouse where he feels like he can fucking breathe for a while, he finds he’d rather just stay at
home and paint or play with Yeontan.
It’s worth it, Taehyung tells himself. It’s worth sacrificing his freedom for a while if it means he
gets to be with Jungkook. He’s in a relationship for the first time in his life and he’s happy and in
love. Okay, Jungkook still hasn’t said ‘I love you’ back to him and Taehyung hasn’t said it again
since Hawaii. He knows Jungkook cares about him, he can feel it in the way his boyfriend kisses
him and caresses him and always wants to make sure he has everything he needs, everything he
could ever want. He takes Taehyung out to an art gallery at least once a week (under heavy guard,
but still). He praises Taehyung’s paintings, always makes sure he has plenty of canvases and paint,
telling Taehyung to let him know if he needs any more supplies. He even models for him
occasionally－when he has the time.

And when they have sex, each and every night, Jungkook makes him come and come and come
again, until Taehyung is shaking, crying, delirious with pleasure. In the bedroom, it’s just the two
of them, bodies pressed together, moving as one, and all of Taehyung’s fears and doubts fall away
as Jungkook slowly undresses him, kisses every inch of his skin, whispers Taehyung’s name as he
thrusts inside him. In the darkness with Jungkook, Taehyung can pretend that as long as they are
together, that everything will work out just fine, that he doesn’t have to be afraid every time
Jungkook leaves, that this will last forever. He falls asleep in Jungkook’s arms and in his dreams,
he flies back to the beach in Hawaii sitting astride a massive black dragon.

They’re nice, pleasant dreams and Taehyung hates waking up from them.

More than that though, he hates it every time Jungkook kisses him goodbye and walks out the door
to go do whatever it is mob bosses do. Sometimes he’s out all day; sometimes he comes back to the
penthouse in the middle of the afternoon to have lunch with him and they take Yeontan out for a
walk around the block; he’s home every evening for dinner and they fall asleep together after
they’ve finished having sex. But sometimes Jungkook’s phone goes off in the middle of the night,
waking them both up, and Jungkook sighs and gets dressed, kissing Taehyung goodbye again
before leaving. Sorry, baby, I gotta go.

Sometimes he’s out for an hour; sometimes he doesn’t return until sunup－but no matter how long
Jungkook is out for, Taehyung can never fall back to sleep if he’s not there beside him.

Every time Jungkook goes out, Taehyung’s mind plays an endless reel of horror movies, all
featuring what might happen to his boyfriend－Jungkook shot. Jungkook stabbed. Jungkook
tortured to the point of death.

Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’ll be careful, I promise.

He’s developed the habit of spinning the friendship bracelet around and around on his wrist as he
paces up and down the penthouse, too anxious, too scared to paint. Jungkook checks in with him
every few hours, letting him know he’s okay and it’s sweet, blessed relief whenever he receives
those messages and he feels like he can relax for a while, actually do something productive. But
then the worry and the fear inevitably creep up on him again and he can’t even hold his paintbrush
steady because his hands are shaking. He resists the urge to bombard Jungkook with text messages
but it’s not easy. Questions spin around in his head on an endless loop almost the entire time
Jungkook is gone.

Where are you? What are you doing right now? Are you safe? When are you coming home?

It’s a small price to pay, Taehyung tells himself. He had been given a choice and he had chosen
being with Jungkook over having his freedom. He had heeded Jimin’s warnings about the potential
pitfalls of dating a gang member, taken them into account and chosen Jungkook anyway. Besides,
Jungkook wouldn’t be a part of that life forever. There was still the promise of Hawaii, the
bungalow on the beach with the outdoor shower, the sun and the sand, their own private paradise
by the sea.

Taehyung holds onto that promise like it’s a lifeline, gripping it tight whenever his fear threatens to
overwhelm him and he feels like he can’t breathe, he’s so terrified of something happening to
Jungkook.

It’s just for now, this won’t last forever, one day we’ll leave and we’ll have each other and our
freedom, I just have to be patient, it’s fine.

It’s fine.

***

“Jungkook, don’t! You’re going to make me burn the fish!”

Instead of letting him go, Jungkook’s grip tightens around Taehyung’s waist, and he chuckles
softly in his ear. “Oh, who cares if the fish is a little bit crispy…” He reaches up, tweaking one of
Taehyung’s nipples through his shirt, causing him to gasp. “There’s only one meal I’m hungry for
anyways…”

“God, you are the worst.”

Taehyung knew it had been a bad idea to suggest that they cook together. He’s been attempting to
make pan-fried fish while Jungkook was supposed to be on salad duty but halfway through making
it, Jungkook had abandoned the vegetables to come up behind him, wrapping his arms around his
waist and planting teasing kisses along the nape of his neck.

“After,” Taehyung says stubbornly, keeping his eyes on the fish. “We can do that after.” But
there’s still that undeniable rush of heat to his groin as he feels Jungkook’s teeth nip at his skin.

“Can’t do it after,” Jungkook murmurs. “I’m taking you out tonight.”

“Oh?” Taehyung manages to get the fish out of the skillet and onto a plate. “That’s news to me.”

“Well, it was supposed to be a surprise.” Jungkook withdraws one of his hands from Taehyung’s
waist and a second later, presses something against his chest. Curious, Taehyung takes what turns
out to be a pair of tickets and reads:

‘La Boheme－Opera Theater, Seoul Arts Center’

“An opera?” Taehyung says, feeling a little tingle of excitement. “You’re taking me to an opera?”
“Mm hmm.” Jungkook presses another kiss to the nape of his neck before turning Taehyung
around, slipping his arms around his waist again. “I told you I would take you, didn’t I?”

Taehyung nods shyly, looping his arms around Jungkook’s neck. “Yeah, you did…thank you.”

“You probably won’t thank me later when you’re sobbing in the theater. It’s really fucking
depressing.”

“Oh my god, why would you tell me that?”

Once Jungkook is finished with the salad (assisted by Taehyung because Jungkook takes a fucking
eternity just to slice one fucking tomato), they sit at the dining table, Taehyung bombarding
Jungkook with questions about the show as they eat.

“What’s the show about? Will I be able to follow what’s going on if they’re singing in Italian? Will
we have our own private box again?”

“Yes, we’ll have our own private box again,” Jungkook says, taking a sip of wine. “It’ll be just the
two of us.”

“Really?” Taehyung brightens at the thought. “Just the two of us? No guards?”

Jungkook puts his wine glass down, his expression troubled. “Sorry, baby, I meant that it’ll be just
the two of us in the box…there’ll still be guards posted outside.”

“Oh.” Taehyung looks down at his plate, poking at a lettuce leaf with his fork. “That makes sense,
I guess, sorry, I wasn’t really thinking－”

“Hey,” Jungkook says, shifting his chair closer. “Don’t apologize.” He reaches for Taehyung’s
hand, bringing it up to his mouth and kissing his knuckles. “I don’t like it either, Tae. But it’s just
for now. Eventually, we’ll be able to relax the security detail, I promise.”

Taehyung nods, still looking down at his plate, unable to voice all of the questions burning inside
his throat.

How long will ‘for now’ last? Will I always have my every move watched as long as I’m in Seoul?
God, why can’t we just go back to Hawaii?

“Hey,” Jungkook says softly and Taehyung looks up at him. “Don’t think about it too much, okay?
You’ll drive yourself crazy if you do.” He brushes his lips against Taehyung’s hand again, a
slightly mischievous look on his face now. “Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you
during intermission?” he purrs, leaning in closer. “When I have you all alone in our own private
box?”

“I have no idea,” Taehyung whispers, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “But I’m willing to bet
something dirty.”

“Mmm…I’d say you’re right about that…”

Their lips are just about to brush when Jungkook’s phone goes off, startling both of them.

Jungkook pulls back, taking his phone out of his pocket and checking it, grimacing at the screen.
“It’s Namjoon.”

“It’s okay, you can answer it,” Taehyung reassures him even as he feels his heart sink. “He doesn’t
usually call you without a good reason.”

“Yeah…he’s supposed to be in a meeting with the leader of the Kkachi gang right now…”
Jungkook taps on the screen, putting the phone to his ear. “Namjoon,” he growls, “this better be
fucking important, I’m in the middle of having dinner with Tae right now.”

Taehyung hears Namjoon utter what is probably an apology and then something else. Jungkook
gets to his feet, pacing over by the window. “What do you mean Baek wants to talk me in person?
We already have all the details of our deal ironed out, what the fuck does he want now?”

Taehyung watches as Jungkook pauses, listening to Namjoon, his eyes flashing dangerously, lip
curling in a sneer. “Oh, really? He said that? Well, you can tell Baek that if he wants to know what
I’m capable of, he should remember what I did to Jwi Haechung. Ask him if he wants the same
fucking treatment. Because I’ve still got the knife I used to－”

Jungkook’s eyes fall on Taehyung and abruptly cuts himself off in mid-sentence. Taehyung
immediately looks away, gnawing at his lower lip. He forgets sometimes. He forgets the things
Jungkook has done, how dangerous he can be. Jungkook never did tell him exactly how he killed
Jwi Haechung and Taehyung doesn’t want to know. Is too afraid to ask.

He hears Jungkook sigh. “Okay, tell him I’m on my way. Should be there in about twenty minutes
or so.”

He hangs up and Taehyung stares down at the table, anxiety already snaking through him. “You
gotta go?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook says dully. “I gotta go.”

He comes over to stand beside Taehyung, stroking a gentle hand through his hair, and Taehyung
raises his head to look at him.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Jungkook says softly, “but I promise I’ll make it up to you. We can go
another night.”

“It’s okay,” Taehyung says, forcing a smile. “Really, it’s fine. I know you can’t really avoid these,
uh…meetings.”

“Wish I could,” Jungkook says, cupping Taehyung’s face in his hands. “I’d much rather spend the
evening with you.”

“I know,” Taehyung says, feeling like he’s a parrot, just repeating the same phrases over and over
again. “Just be careful, okay?”

“I will,” Jungkook says, leaning down to kiss him goodbye. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way
back but I don’t know how late I’ll be. So don’t stay up waiting for me. Go to bed if you’re tired.”

“I will,” Taehyung tells him, knowing that he won’t. He’s not going to be able to fall asleep if he
knows Jungkook is out, potentially putting himself at risk. “See you when you get home.”

“See you,” Jungkook says, giving him another kiss. Looking reluctant, he pulls away and
Taehyung watches him go, staring at the door for a solid five minutes after Jungkook has
disappeared through it.

It’s fine, he tells himself, clenching his hands into fists, his nails digging into his palms. It’s fine,
he’ll be fine－
What if he’s not? another voice says, the one he always tries to push away but the voice keeps
coming back, drowning out all his rationalizations. What if something happens to him? What if just
now was the last time you’ll ever see him alive?

Taehyung buries his face in his hands, shaking his head vehemently, trying to calm himself down.
“No,” he whispers. “It’s fine. He’ll be fine.”

But his heart thumps erratically in his chest, his lungs squeezed too tight, not able to take in enough
air, as wave after wave of paralyzing fear washes over him, the voices too loud in his head to
drown out.

You really think he’ll be able to leave the Yong Jegug? As the leader? You really think he’ll be
able to do that?

I 'll be careful…I promise…

When will you retire? Six months? A year? Ten years?…Tae, I don’t know…

I don’t know if I’ve made this obvious enough but I can’t stand to lose you either!

It’s too much. It’s too much for one person to endure, he’s already gone through losing his mother,
he can’t put himself through losing Jungkook too, he just can’t, he’s not strong enough for that,
he’ll shatter into a million pieces if that happens…

Sorry, baby, I gotta go.

He hears a soft whining sound at his feet and he looks down to see Yeontan standing beside his
chair, the tiny puppy’s head tilted to the side.

“Hey, T-Tannie,” Taehyung says, picking him up and holding him close to his chest. “G-good
news, pup. We were supposed to go out t-tonight and you would have been left with a b-babysitter
but Jungkook had to go so now I get to s-stay home with you.” He leans his cheek against
Yeontan’s soft fur, feeling his throat tighten. “I know you h-hate it when we leave you all alone.”

He bites down hard on his lip, trying to keep some semblance of control over himself.

But the tears come anyway.

Jungkook steps into the elevator of his apartment building, exhausted from hours of negotiating
with the leader of the Kkachi gang. Fucking Baek. A thorn in his father’s side for years and now he
seems to want to carry on the tradition with Jungkook. Always trying to get the upper hand, no
matter how many favors they granted him, no matter how much Baek was in their debt for the
number of times they had formed alliances to help him out when the other leaders got greedy and
went hunting for him－no, it was never enough for old Baek Hyeon.

Come on, Jeon, I’m willing to make an alliance with you but you’re not promising me half as much
as your father would have…where’s your sense of honor…

Bullshit. Baek was in the Yong Jegug’s debt ten times over by now but Jungkook needed his
backing, needed to form strong alliances with as many of the leaders as he possibly could. So that
when Min SungWon dared to set foot back in Seoul, he wouldn’t be able to find the help that he
was probably counting on.

Risky, it was always risky, these alliances. Precarious and built on shaky foundations, a wrong
word or a dirty look sending the entire thing collapsing in on itself. Nam Kang-Dae was a safe bet,
there had always been an understanding between the Yong Jegug and the leader of the Imugi gang.
The old man’s friendship with his father had ensured the two shared a civil working relationship,
someone Jungkook could now rely on with almost total certainty. But Baek was more slippery,
more cunning, and definitely not to be trusted. It had taken hours of discussion just to come to a
tentative arrangement and Jungkook had a feeling that Baek might just announce that he had
changed his mind the very next morning and they’d have to start all over again. But still, it was
better than nothing.

When they weren’t negotiating with other gang leaders, Jungkook and his inner circle were all busy
coordinating yet another search for Min SungWon. Better to try and find him before he showed up
in Korea as a very nasty surprise.

On top of the ongoing search and the never-ending negotiations, they still had their usual business
dealings to attend to. They couldn’t skimp on those, they had to make sure they had enough money
to grease the right palms and keep his empire going. Because without money, they had no power,
nothing to offer the other gang leaders and without the protection of the alliances, Taehyung would
be in even more danger.

It’s what he reminds himself of, every time he gets frustrated with another gang leader, a
discussion-ending threat on the tip of his tongue－he’s doing this in order to keep Taehyung as
safe as possible. Even if it keeps him away from Taehyung for hours at a time.

He bites the inside of his cheek as the elevator comes to a halt, the doors sliding open onto the
hallway leading up to his penthouse. He was disgusted with himself, leaving Taehyung like that,
ruining what was supposed to have been a special evening. It was something his father had done to
his mother all the time, getting up in the middle of dinner after a tense phone call from one of his
men.

I’m so sorry, Nami, I’ll make it up to you, I promise…

Then he’d kiss her goodbye, leaving her and Jungkook alone at the table. His mother would
continue eating as if nothing had happened, forcing a conversation about what Jungkook had
learned at school that day. But the disappointment clouding her eyes was clear to him, even at a
young age. And he had recognized that same look in Taehyung’s eyes when he had announced that
he had to leave.

I’ll make it up to you, I promise…

Just fucking great. Now he was turning into his father. But it was just for now. Once all this was
over (and Jungkook deliberately doesn’t think about when that would be), he and Taehyung would
go back to live in his Hawaiian bungalow, underneath the sun and right beside the sea.

Someday.

And he will make it up to him. He’ll take Taehyung out every night for an entire week, to operas
and theaters and art galleries. He’ll turn his phone off and maybe even reduce the number of
guards from six to four…

Hmm. Too risky. Maybe not.

He walks past the guards, all of them inclining their heads in respectful bows and he’s satisfied to
see not one of them on their phones. Jin gives him a tired smile as Jungkook approaches the door.

“Shift change in fifteen minutes,” Jungkook says to him, punching in the security code. “You’ll be
able to go home and get some rest.”

Jin yawns widely, quickly covering his mouth with his hand. “I know. Thanks, boss.”

Jungkook steps inside, locking the door behind him, finding the apartment dark and quiet, the only
light coming from the surrounding buildings outside. It was late, nearly one in the morning,
Taehyung must have headed to bed a while ago－

He starts to head for the bedroom but then stops when he notices someone sitting at the dining
table and his heart nearly punches into his throat but then, a second later, he realizes it’s Taehyung.

“Baby?” Jungkook goes over to him, pulling out a chair next to him and sits down. “What are you
still doing up? It’s late.”

“I know.” Taehyung is gazing out the window, his chin in his hand, not looking at him. His voice
sounds thick and slightly muffled as if he has a head cold. “I couldn’t sleep.”

A sour feeling of guilt settles in the pit of Jungkook’s stomach and he reaches for Taehyung’s
hand, lacing their fingers together. “Because you were worried about me?”

Taehyung nods, still staring out the window and it’s then Jungkook notices the tear tracks on his
face－Taehyung had clearly been crying.

The sense of guilt increases, churning within him and Jungkook heaves a sigh, pressing a soft kiss
to Taehyung’s hand. “I’m sorry, Tae,” he says quietly. “I don’t mean to make you worry.
Everything’s fine, okay? Come on, let’s go to bed.”

He stands, meaning to pull Taehyung up with him but Taehyung stays seated, resisting him.

“I need to talk to you.”

Taehyung’s voice is soft, but not weak, and a chill steals over Jungkook’s entire body and he
knows that whatever it is Taehyung has to say, he can’t stand to hear it.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” Jungkook says, trying to inject some authority into his tone even
though his pulse is thudding in his ears. “Not now. We’re both going to go to bed and get some
sleep, okay?” He tries to pull Taehyung up from his chair again but it’s then that Taehyung tugs his
hand out of Jungkook’s grasp.

“I think I need to leave, Jungkook,” he whispers.

The soft words smash into him like a sledgehammer, his heart caving in on itself and Jungkook sits
down heavily in the chair beside Taehyung, staring at him. “Tae,” Jungkook says slowly, trying to
remain calm, trying to ignore the darkness that wants to swallow him whole, “I know things are
hard right now. I know you’re having a rough time.” He reaches up, stroking his hand through
Taehyung’s soft hair and he hears Taehyung sniffle. “But there’s no need for you to leave. I can fix
things, okay, I can make them better－”

“I don’t think you can,” Taehyung says in a hushed voice, turning to face him. He looks utterly
defeated, miserable and yet there’s a steely sort of resolve in his shapely brown eyes, the fire within
him burning bright. “I feel like I’ll go insane if I stay here. And it’s not just the extra security and
stuff.” He takes one of Jungkook’s hands in both of his, stroking his thumbs over his skin. “Every
time you walk out the door, I imagine the absolute worst happening to you. I’m always left
wondering if I’m ever going to see you again. Then I panic and I get scared and I’m feeling like
I’m losing my mind.” He shakes his head, glancing down at their hands. “It’s torture. And if I stay,
I feel like it’s just going to get worse.”

Panic flares within him as he stares at Taehyung, his mind racing, careening out of control. No, he
can’t leave, he can’t leave me, he has to STAY－

He slides off the chair onto his knees in front of Taehyung, taking both of Taehyung’s hands in his,
gripping tight. “Tae, listen to me. Listen,” he says desperately, gazing up at him. “I can give
you anything. Anything you want. If you want to, I don’t know, go to school or something, then go
to school. If you want me home more often, I’ll stay home, I’ll delegate more, I’ll－”

“I don’t know if I’d want to go to school if I had to attend classes surrounded by six of your
bodyguards,” Taehyung says, a trace of sarcasm creeping into his voice. He sighs, running a hand
through Jungkook’s hair. “And I’m not sure how you’re supposed to ‘delegate’ if you’re the leader
of the most powerful gang in the city.”

“Tae－”

“You know what I really want?” Taehyung whispers. “You and me and Yeontan living in your
bungalow in Hawaii. That’s it. Just the three of us, far away from all of this. Where we can just be
together.”

“And we’ll get there, Tae, I promise, I just need to－”

“What?” Taehyung says, staring down at their hands. “What is it you need to do? Why can’t we
just leave?”

“For fuck’s sake, Tae, it’s not like quitting a job at the fucking bank or something!” Jungkook
bursts out. He takes a deep breath, tries to compose himself. “It’s more complicated than that.
When I leave－and I will leave－I want to do it in a way so that there’s no chance of any of this
shit following me around. I want to make a clean break, Tae. But that takes time.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Taehyung says and for a second, Jungkook feels a spark of hope light
within him. But it’s quickly dashed when Taehyung goes on to say, “But you don’t know how
long, do you? You can’t tell me how long I’ll have to wait.”

“Well, no, but－”

“Then I have to go.” There’s a grim sort of finality in Taehyung’s voice and Jungkook’s panic
threatens to overwhelm him, destroy him completely. He wraps his arms around Taehyung’s waist,
buries his face in his stomach.
“You can’t leave,” he says fiercely, his voice muffled by Taehyung’s sweater. “I won’t let you.”

“You don’t own me anymore, Jungkook,” Taehyung says from above him, his voice breaking as
he strokes his hands through Jungkook’s hair. “If you won’t come with me, then you have to let me
go.” Jungkook feels Taehyung’s hands cupping his face and he raises his head to look at him.
Taehyung gazes down at him, a tear sliding down his face. “You have to let me go,” he whispers.

Jungkook shakes his head, denying him, denying the words Taehyung is speaking as if he simply
refuses to accept them, it’ll be like Taehyung never said them at all. “Tae, no, please－”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says softly, his face crumpling. “B-but I can’t wait f-forever.”

Jungkook slumps against him, resting his face in Taehyung’s lap, holding onto him as Taehyung
strokes his hair, his tears falling on to the top of Jungkook’s head.

They remain like that for a very long time.

***

Jimin helps him pack.

It’s a mostly silent affair, the two of them folding Taehyung’s clothes into a suitcase, along with
his laptop and books and Yeontan’s toys. Taehyung’s art supplies will have to wait, Jungkook
reassuring him that he’ll send them along to him once he gets settled in his new place in Busan.

Busan. Taehyung had mostly picked the city at random, knowing that he needed to get out of
Seoul, at least, make as clean a break as possible. Two hours away by train, far enough away to
start fresh.

But not too far.

“What about this?” Jimin asks him and Taehyung turns to see him holding up the green Givenchy
coat Jungkook had gotten him. “Are you taking this?”

Taehyung reaches for it, taking it from Jimin and holding it out in front of him, considering it. He
had decided to leave most of his fancy designer clothes behind, opting instead for the practical tee
shirts and cozy sweatpants that would be more fitting for him returning to ‘ordinary’ life. He didn’t
want to draw any attention to himself. But he’s simply too attached to it to leave it behind. He had
donned it just this morning to go say goodbye to his mother at the cemetery and it reminds him of
that Christmas Eve night when Jungkook had taken him to see that beautiful ballet…

“Yeah,” Taehyung says, carefully folding the coat up and placing it in his suitcase. “I’m taking it.”
“Is that everything?” Jimin says, his voice hitching as he breezes past Taehyung to check the
bathroom for the fifth time. “You got your toothbrush and stuff, right?”

“Jimin.”

But Jimin remains facing away from him, hands on his hips as he scans the bathroom again.
“Wouldn’t want to forget anything, I mean I know you can just buy that stuff when you g-get there
but still－”

“Jimin.”

Jimin sighs and turns around, biting down hard on his lip, blinking rapidly.

A lump rises in Taehyung’s throat as he gazes at his friend but he forces himself to speak around it.
“Come on, you promised you weren’t going to go all mushy on me. You’re better than that.”

“S-says you.” Jimin swipes at his eyes, sniffling a little and then comes over to him, taking his
hands in his small chubby ones. For a second they just stare down at the gold and green friendship
bracelets on their wrists, a bright reminder of their bond. Taehyung wears his on his right wrist; the
red and blue one that he shares with Jungkook is still on his left.

“I’ll come with you,” Jimin says, looking back up at him. “We’ll go together, Tae, I’ll go back to
my place and have a bag packed in less than an hour and then we can－”

“Thanks, Chim, but you don’t have to do that.” Taehyung shrugs, trying to come across as casual
as possible even if he wants nothing more than to accept Jimin’s offer. “I feel like this is something
I have to do on my own, you know? And besides, I already got my ticket. We wouldn’t be able to
sit next to each other on the train.”

“You could just fit me in your p-pocket, remember?” Jimin says, laughing a little even as tears
sparkle in his eyes.

“That’s right, I could.” He tries to smile but then his eyes fall on the suitcase still sitting open on
the bed, not zipped up yet. “Chim...” he says quietly, still staring at the suitcase, “…tell me I’m
doing the right thing.”

“Oh sweetie.” Jimin pulls him into a fierce hug and for a long moment they stand in the middle of
Jungkook’s bedroom, holding onto each other as tightly as possible.

“You have to do what’s best for you,” Jimin whispers. “Even if it hurts. And I think it’ll hurt either
way. But you’ll be able to live your own life now.”

“I know,” Taehyung sighs. “I just…wish things could be different.”

Jimin gives him one last reassuring squeeze and then releases him and Taehyung picks up his
suitcase and goes out into the living room where the members of Jungkook’s inner circle are
waiting.

They all stand up as he enters the room, looking grim-faced and solemn as if they’re attending a
funeral. Bogum especially looks like he might burst into tears at any moment and Taehyung feels
distinctly awkward.

“Um, well, I guess this is goodbye,” he says. “Thank you guys for everyth－”

“Why do you have to leave, Taehyung sii?” Bogum whines. “Why can’t you stay?”
“Uh, well－”

“Jesus, Bogum, knock it off,” Seojoon says harshly. “You’re fucking embarrassing us.” His
expression softens as he approaches Taehyung, enveloping him in a brief hug. “Not that I won’t
miss you, kid, but I know you gotta do what you gotta do.”

“Thanks, Seojoon.”

Namjoon comes up to him next, offering him a hug and then it’s Bogum’s turn and he clings to
Taehyung for a good ten seconds before Seojoon yells at him to ‘let go, for fuck’s sake!’

And then it’s Jin’s turn and Taehyung honestly doesn’t know how he’s going to keep it together as
they embrace.

“I’m really gonna miss you, hyung,” Taehyung whispers as they hug tightly. “Please, please be
careful, okay? You and all the others.”

“We will, Taehyung sii,” Jin says, pulling back and giving him a warm smile. “And you have all
our numbers so if you ever need anything, you can just call and we’ll be there. You know that,
right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Jimin traps him in one more fierce hug and then Taehyung heads for the door, pulling his suitcase
behind them. He places his hand on the doorknob, turning around to take one last look at all of his
friends.

Tears are streaming openly down Jimin’s face and his friend makes no attempt to hide them now.
Bogum’s eyes are wide and sorrowful, looking like a kicked puppy and Seojoon gives him a tight
smile as they make eye contact. Namjoon stands next to Jin, giving Taehyung a reassuring nod and
Jin tips him the barest wink, his lips slightly upturned at the corners in the semblance of a smile.

“Well,” Taehyung says, trying to capture the image of them all in his head, trying to hold onto this
moment for later. “Bye.” It’s all he can manage to say.

He opens the door and steps out into the hallway where Jungkook is waiting, leaning against the
wall, cradling Yeontan in his arms. Yoongi is standing at the end of the hallway by the elevator,
waiting to drive them to the train station.

Jungkook eyes the suitcase with distaste as if it had done something to personally offend him.
Taehyung keeps his gaze on the floor, tightening his grip on the handle.

“Got everything?” Jungkook asks.

Taehyung nods, not looking at him.

“Then let’s go.”

They arrive at the train station ten minutes before Taehyung’s train is due to leave. After a tense
discussion with Yoongi the day before, they had agreed that Taehyung should take the latest
possible train out of Seoul, the one that left at 10:30 pm. Although Jungkook had essentially bullied
Yoongi into agreeing with him. Yoongi had argued that it would make more sense for Taehyung to
leave during the daytime, so there were more people around to hide him from any potential threats,
so that he could get lost in the crowd. But Jungkook had been adamant. The latest train was the
better option, fewer people meant that they could more easily spot anyone trying to follow
Taehyung. It was faulty logic and Jungkook knew it but he wasn’t going to let Yoongi know the
real reason he wanted Taehyung to take the later train.

He doesn’t want a bunch of people swarming around them while he’s trying to say goodbye to
Taehyung.

With five minutes to go until the train leaves, Yoongi takes Taehyung’s suitcase onto the train for
him, checking the compartment at the same time for any suspicious-looking people. Once he’s
done that, he steps off the train again and, per Jungkook’s instructions, heads over to distract the
lone security guard roaming the platform so he and Taehyung can have some privacy.

Taehyung stands in front of him, gazing up at the train. He has Yeontan tucked in his coat, holding
him against his chest, keeping him warm from the cold night air. He shivers a little bit, and then
turns to look at Jungkook, his brown eyes wide and apprehensive.

There is so much that he planned on saying when this moment came. And now he can’t remember
any of it.

“If you get there and realize you’ve forgotten anything, just let me know and I’ll send it to you.”

“Okay,” Taehyung says, nodding vaguely. “I’m pretty sure I have everything but yeah, I’ll…let
you know.”

“And I’ll send you your art stuff as soon as possible.”

“I know.”

They both fall silent, gazing at each other and Jungkook can’t believe how he had been willing to
let Taehyung go before, when he broke off the contract and left for Brazil. Probably because he
had thought back then that Taehyung would never actually choose to stay with him. But then
against all odds he had, he had still been there when Jungkook returned and Taehyung had chosen
to kiss him and chosen to love him and chosen to be with him.

And now he was choosing to leave.

Last night in bed, Jungkook had made a last-ditch effort to win Taehyung over with his body, his
hands greedy, mouth ravenous as he took Taehyung again and again throughout the night, hardly
allowing him a chance to catch his breath.

Who else is going to fuck you like this Tae? Who else is going to make you feel this good? Come
on, baby, stay…

Taehyung had clung to him, equally as insatiable but Jungkook had finally stopped when Taehyung
had broken down into tears, turning his face away from him.
I’m sorry, Jungkook…I can’t…I can’t do this anymore…

And that had been it. Jungkook knew a losing battle when he saw one so he had ended his assault
on Taehyung’s resolve to leave him and accepted his defeat, taking Taehyung into his arms and
holding him close for the rest of the night.

But just because he had accepted it, didn’t mean he had to be fucking happy about it.

“Well,” Taehyung says, taking a small step away from him toward the train, “I guess I should－”

But then Jungkook reaches out, grasping Taehyung’s coat and pulling him close, kissing him
desperately even as he tries not to crush Yeontan between them. Because if this is the last time he’s
ever going to see Taehyung, he’s going to make it count, because words have failed him but he’ll
make sure that this kiss won’t. And he needs Taehyung to know how he truly feels, even if he’s
unable to put it into words.

You’re beautiful.

His lips move over Taehyung’s, committing the shape of them to memory.

You’re the sun in my sky, you’re everything I revolve around.

He slips his tongue inside Taehyung’s mouth so he can memorize the taste of him, the hot, honeyed
sweetness.

You’re my little tiger.

Taehyung whimpers into his mouth, kissing him back just as feverishly until the final boarding call
sounds over the intercom and they break apart, gasping for air.

“Tae,” Jungkook whispers, unable to help himself from making this final, desperate bid, “Tae,
don’t go.”

“Come with me,” Taehyung whispers back.

They pause, Taehyung pleading with his eyes but Jungkook forces himself to step back, shaking his
head.

“Tae…I can’t.”

Taehyung nods, the disappointment written bare on his face as he takes his own step back. He
gives a miserable shrug of his shoulders. “And I can’t stay.”

It was just that simple. Jungkook couldn’t go and Taehyung couldn’t stay. There would be no
compromise, no meeting in the middle. Not now.

Stifling a sob, Taehyung turns and steps on board the train, Jungkook remaining standing on the
platform, his gaze trained on the clear glass of the compartment as Taehyung comes into view and
takes his seat right beside the window. He looks out at him and Jungkook’s eyes flick briefly over
to the clock on the wall of the station.

It was 10:29 pm.

Anger boils up inside him unexpectedly, anger and hopelessness and the deepest sense of loss he
had felt since the day he had seen his mother’s casket laid in the ground.
 This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening －

“Tae!”

The sound is ripped out of him, a rough growl, and he smacks his hand against the side of the train,
hard enough to hurt, hard enough to leave his palm stinging.

Come on, get up, get up, hurry, before the train leaves －

But Taehyung remains seated, gazing out at him sadly, lifting his hand and pressing his palm
against the glass, leaning his forehead against the window.

And then the train starts to move.

NO!

Jungkook follows it, walking rapidly along the platform, his eyes fixed on Taehyung.

Don’t leave me.

He quickens his pace, jogging alongside the train now, thinking that he’ll run all the way to Busan
and get Taehyung back, make him come back.

Please.

His last glimpse of Taehyung is to see tears streaming down his face as he looks back at Jungkook
but then the train picks up too much speed and he stops running, watching it disappear into the
night.

Don’t leave me.

Chapter End Notes

Okay, okay, okay, before you all start yelling at me in the comments, just a reminder
that there are TWO MORE CHAPTERS LEFT! THE STORY DOESN'T END LIKE
THIS, I PROMISE

Speaking of, for the final two chapters, I'm abandoning my weekly Friday posting
schedule and will just post them as soon as they're ready to go. I'd really like to have
the next chapter up in the next couple of weeks and then the final chapter up by end of
August, beginning of September at the very latest - I don't want to leave you guys
hanging for too long.
Playlist

Twitter
 Chapter 15
Chapter Summary

Paradise lost...

Chapter Notes

Sorry for the long wait! And I want to say thank you to everyone for sticking with this
story and especially thank those of you who left comments telling me there was no
pressure, to take my time, etc. I purple you all <3

Note: Violence in this chapter - but you guys already knew that :P

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The jungle surrounds him, towering trees pressing close in the night. Shadows hide the insects
crawling over the mossy ground but Jungkook can hear them clicking and chirping around him as
he makes his way through the dense undergrowth; somewhere to his right there’s the soft sinister
hissing of a snake. But he ignores it, his focus elsewhere.

Armed only with the switchblade he had used on Jwi Haechung, he cuts his way through thick
vines and overgrown ferns, feeling as if it takes him hours just to move a few feet. But he remains
patient, methodical. He knows what’s in front of him, what he is chasing.

He catches a teasing glimpse of the tiger’s tail as he edges between two trees, his heartbeat picking
up as the tiger glances at him over his shoulder, golden eyes flashing bright fire in the darkness.

“Tae?”

His lips form the shape of Taehyung’s name but he makes no sound. It’s as if he’s suddenly gone
deaf or as if he is speaking underwater.

“Tae, wait!”

But the tiger either doesn’t hear him or pays no heed to his words. It turns and prowls further into
the jungle and all Jungkook can do is follow.

Beside him, he hears the hissing of the snake again, followed by rustling noises.

There is someone else chasing the tiger.

No. Not chasing.

Hunting.
Frantic, Jungkook tries to cut his way through the jungle, to clear the path, but the more he
struggles to catch up to the tiger, the more the vines ensnare him, trapping him in place. He
thrashes helplessly, sawing at the plants with his blood-encrusted knife, trying to be the one to get
to the tiger first, so he can save it.

But he’s too late.

There’s a flash of searing red light and then the pained roar of the tiger, loud and echoing in
Jungkook’s head, sounding like an all too human scream…

Jungkook startles awake, the screams of the tiger still ringing in his head. For a moment, he’s
disoriented, expecting to still be in the jungle, lying on the mossy ground with bugs crawling all
over him but he’s in his penthouse, stretched out on his leather sofa. He’s been sleeping on his
couch for the last month or so. His bed feels too big for just one person.

He groans, rolling over and feeling around for the bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor that had put
him to sleep. Wrapping his hand around the neck of the bottle, he lifts it up, peering at the liquid
sloshing around inside. Still about half full. At least there were some things he could remain
optimistic about.

He takes a long pull from the bottle and then stumbles up from the couch, wandering aimlessly
over to the window, taking his whiskey with him. Leaning his forehead against the cool glass, he
stares out at the city of Seoul, the flickering lights ever-present in the darkness. He could set his
watch by the consistency of the horrific dreams that always wake him up in the middle of the night,
no matter how much alcohol he consumes beforehand. Drinking himself into a stupor is the only
way he can get some rest these days, not even by falling asleep but by passing out, the whiskey
dulling his senses, clouding his brain.

It’s the only way to get Taehyung off his mind.

He squeezes his eyes shut, that forbidden name bringing back a flood of memories that no amount
of alcohol can drown out.

Taehyung pulling that stupid banana off the wall of the art gallery…Taehyung whimpering softly
into his mouth as they shared their first kiss…Taehyung underneath him, legs spread, soft skin
aglow with candlelight…the mesmerized look on his face when Jungkook had taken him to the
ballet…Taehyung perched on a swing dressed in white lingerie, glaring out at him through the
bars of his cage…Taehyung looking at him through the window of the train, tears streaming down
his face…

Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung…

Jungkook takes another gulp of whiskey, trying to wash the thoughts away but the realization is
already burning through him, the one he always tries to push back: He is alone in his penthouse
and Taehyung is gone. And he’s not coming back.

Not ever.

With Taehyung gone, it’s freed him up to throw himself into his role of leader of the Yong Jegug,
cutting deals, forming alliances, searching for Min SungWon. Or, that’s what he would be doing if
he cared about any of it. But he doesn’t. He just doesn’t give a shit about any of it anymore.

He sits through meetings with his inner circle, staring dully out the window while Yoongi talks for
him, taking the lead, barely listening to anything that the others are talking about. Most of the
alliances he formed with the other leaders have either collapsed or are about to because Jungkook
can’t be bothered to meet with any of them in person. Only Nam Kang-Dae has stuck to their deal,
more out of a sort of fatherly affection than anything else. Tensions between the gangs are growing
more palpable by the day, Hobi reporting more petty fights breaking out at the Bird Cage, and
every gang member on all sides walks around armed to the teeth. War seems imminent and it’s the
perfect atmosphere for Min SungWon to sweep in and take control among the chaos.

But Jungkook doesn’t really give a shit about Yoongi’s father either. Whenever any of the
members of his inner circle bring him up, he just shrugs carelessly, tells them in a vague sort of
way to keep searching, without giving them any guidance on where to look. He doesn’t voice to
them what he really thinks they should do about Min SungWon.

Just let him come. Who gives a fuck? Let him come so he can put me out of my fucking misery, just
like he promised. I don’t fucking care.

He hardly goes out anymore. There’s no reason for him to go outside, really. Everything he needs
he can just have brought to him, including all the bottles of Jack Daniels that he could want.
Meetings with his inner circle are now held here at his penthouse and when his men leave for the
day, taking all of Jungkook’s responsibilities with them, he just prowls around with a bottle in his
hand, pacing back and forth and getting drunk. Or sometimes he just sits in the room that had
formerly been Taehyung’s art studio, now empty, and gets drunk there.

About once a week he sobers up enough to drive himself to the train station, usually late at
night. He’ll park across the road and sit in his car and calculate how much time he has left to catch
the last train of the night to Busan, willing himself to move, to get up and march up to the ticket
booth and buy a boarding pass. But if he were to show up at Taehyung’s doorstep in the dead of
night…would Taehyung even be happy to see him? Would he even want Jungkook there?

He always ends up starting his car up again and driving back home to his old buddy Jack Daniels.

He’s being pathetic and he knows it. But the alcohol is the only way to numb the realization that
there’s no getting out.

It had hit him one day, about two weeks after Taehyung had left that his dreams of a peaceful
retirement on his private beach in Hawaii had been no more than a hopeful lie, both to himself and
Taehyung. Something had prompted him to blurt out the question to Yoongi, the one that had been
nagging at him for a while, even before Taehyung had gone to Busan.

“Do you know of any gang members that got out?”

And Yoongi had opened his mouth to answer, frowned and then closed his mouth again. Both of
them had sat there at his dining table for a solid five minutes, thinking it over until Yoongi cleared
his throat and said in a defeated sort of voice, “No…I can’t think of any.”

“Doesn’t mean there haven’t been any,” Jungkook said quickly and Yoongi nodded although he
didn’t look convinced.

“Jin’s grandfather did retire, I think,” Yoongi said after a few more minutes of silence. “But he was
really old, in his eighties, I think. And those old gang members were always still on the peripheral,
you know? Not exactly active but people still consulted them about stuff…”

“Yeah…”

And the more Jungkook thought about it, the more it dawned on him that nearly every member of
the Yong Jegug that wasn’t around anymore was because they had been either murdered or
incarcerated. Shot. Stabbed. Tortured to death. Or serving life sentences in prison if they were
lucky.

Nobody had escaped. There was simply no precedent for it. And, okay, perhaps some member on
one of the lower rungs had made a break for it and gotten away without anyone knowing, but a
leader? It just didn’t happen. The mob was like an enormous sea creature with thousands of
tentacles, keeping everyone trapped in the underworld and if anyone dared to try and make a break
for the surface, it would only ensnare you in its suffocating grip and drag you back down to the
freezing water below.

Death or prison. Those were his choices. He was chained to a throne that he didn’t even want
anymore. There were too many entanglements, too many connections, too many people who knew
him as the leader of the Yong Jegug for him to even pretend to be anybody else. The dragon tattoo
branded on his arm was proof enough of that. Before he met Taehyung and had wanted a different
life for himself, it hadn’t even occurred to him that it wouldn’t even be possible to leave.

He had looked at Yoongi and Yoongi had looked back at him, his own despair and grief reflected
back at him in his friend’s expression.

“I don’t…” Yoongi had started to say. But then trailed off, looking away from him. And Jungkook
knew that he was thinking about Jimin, just like he was thinking about Taehyung.

So maybe Taehyung had been right to leave him. Maybe it was better that he was living in another
city, safe from this never ending madness.

And the hardest truth of all, the one that Jungkook could barely stomach to think about was that
maybe the two of them were simply not meant to be.

***

Taehyung sighs, warm and content, nestled safely against the scales of the giant black dragon that
sleeps beside him. Its serpentine body is coiled around him, forming a little nest and there’s
enough heat radiating from its rough scales that Taehyung feels as if he’s curled up right beside a
warm fireplace.
He absently reaches up a hand to stroke along the dragon’s body, the jagged edges of the scales
scraping against his fingertips.

“Don’t leave, okay?” Taehyung mumbles sleepily. “Stay here…stay here where it’s safe…”

The dragon rumbles above him, nudging him with its snout and Taehyung huffs, reaching up to
trail a hand along its face, down its neck to its chest, his eyes still closed.

“Stay,” Taehyung whispers, “stay with me…”

He frowns as he feels something warm and wet trickling over his hand and he opens his eyes to see
ruby red blood pouring out from between the dragon’s scales, a gaping wound in its chest.

“No!”

Taehyung sits up, holding his hands to the wound, trying to stem the flow of the blood, but it gushes
over his hands, overflowing in a scarlet wave that crashes over him and the last thing he sees
before he goes under is the dragon looking down at him, its black eyes mournful and full of defeat.

Taehyung sits bolt upright on his sofa, gasping for breath. It takes a few moments for the images of
the red wave and the dragon to wash away before he realizes that it had all been a dream. Just the
same recurring nightmare he’s been having on and off for a month or so now. Ever since he left
Jungkook and came to live in Busan.

He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face before turning to check on Yeontan, sleeping in his little
puppy playpen that Taehyung had set up beside the couch. His new apartment comes with a
bedroom of course but Taehyung finds he hates sleeping in his bed all by himself. Too much room
for just one person. Sleeping on the couch means he’s closer to the door anyways so it’s easier to
take Yeontan out in the middle of the night when his dog needs to go to the bathroom. At least,
that’s what Taehyung tells himself.

He looks over at the digital clock on his stove to see that it’s almost three o’ clock in the morning
and, right on cue, he hears a snuffling sound coming from Yeontan’s playpen and then a faint
whine.

“Gotta go out, pup?” Taehyung turns and lifts Yeontan out of the pen, carrying him towards the
door. “Just hold it for a sec, okay, let me get our coats on…”

Once he wrestles the tiny puppy into his tiny coat and puts his leash on, Taehyung throws his own
overcoat over his pajamas, slides his bare feet into his flannel slippers and quietly exits his
apartment, making sure to slip his phone and his keys in his coat pocket. Tiptoeing down the
hallway, he carries Yeontan to the elevator and presses the button for the ground floor.

Stepping out into the freezing night air is enough to wake him up completely and he shivers as he
sets Yeontan down in the front yard and waits for him to do his business. The surrounding streets
are quiet, no one around, only the parked cars lining the curb and the streetlamps posted along the
sidewalks keeping him company. Not that his new neighbors aren’t friendly but Taehyung has kept
to himself so far for the most part, trying to adjust to living in a new city.

And trying to adjust to a life without Jungkook.

Taehyung may have left Jungkook back in Seoul but the fear, the ever-present worry he feels for
him remains, bubbling up inside him at the most random moments－when he’s in the shower, or
taking Yeontan out for a walk or lying on his sofa in his dark apartment, trying to get to sleep. It’s
only when he receives daily updates from Jimin that his anxiety ebbs away for a bit.

>I’m safe…the inner circle is fine, Yoongi just got back from a meeting with all of them…he’s safe,
Tae, Jungkook is safe…<

But then there’s the unwritten disclaimer where ‘safe’ only means ‘safe for now.’

He had been fooling himself, thinking that by leaving he could escape the maddening fear of
something happening to Jungkook, of losing him. But if they weren’t together anymore, was
Jungkook even his to lose? Did he have any right to worry about Jungkook’s safety when he had
taken the coward’s way out and ran away just because things were getting a little too
overwhelming for him?

Stupid questions because Taehyung already knows the answers to them.

The truth is that he’d return in a heartbeat if he felt like he deserved to. But he doesn’t. He had
made his choice and exiled himself from Jungkook’s life, exchanging a one-sided love for a hollow
sort of freedom. And both left him feeling so empty.

Tae, I…care about you.

Of course Jungkook hadn’t loved him back. For fuck’s sake, why would he? Why would he love
someone like Taehyung, someone cowardly and selfish, someone bitter and broken? It didn’t make
any sense for Jungkook to love him and maybe that had been the real reason why he had left.
Because even if he had remained and gone on loving Jungkook for the rest of his life, Taehyung
knew that it would never be returned, not in the same way. So maybe it was better that he had left
and protected his heart from further harm.

And as for his new-found freedom…

As empty and hollow as it feels sometimes, there are also moments when it’s sheer bliss, like the
hit of some drug that he’s always craved. Being able to go outside unaccompanied, wonderfully
anonymous to everyone around him, no sharp watchful eyes following him, no guards pressing in
too close. Just him and Yeontan going to the local dog park or to the bakery a few streets over or to
the art galleries he’s discovered. Before he had met Jungkook, he had had this freedom to go where
he pleased but not the means to do what he wanted. And while he was with Jungkook, he had the
means but not the freedom. Now, after he had ended things with Jungkook, he had both the means
and the freedom to do whatever he wished, go wherever he pleased.

It is not lost on him that his financial freedom is because of Jungkook, another layer of guilt he
carries around with him. On the way to the train station, he had tentatively offered to pay most of it
back, maybe only keep the hundred thousand he had initially won on his auction night that had
technically been paid to him by Hoseok.

“Keep it, Tae,” Jungkook had said irritably, not looking at him. “It’s your money, what the fuck
would I do with it?”

So here he is in Busan with an exorbitant amount of money, a dog and an endless amount of time to
spend however he wants to. It’s everything he had never even dared to hope for back when he was
sleeping in that homeless shelter, no friends, no family. This freedom is intoxicating sometimes,
and Taehyung isn’t sure if he could give it up now that he’s tasted it.

He only wishes that Jungkook was here to experience it with him.

No matter how he spends his time, Jungkook constantly occupies a space in his mind, memories of
him always within easy reach.

Jungkook holding him up in his arms as he pressed him against the wall that night at the mansion,
gazing up into his face…Jungkook kneeling in front of him in the shower, washing the paint from
his thigh…tying the bracelet on his wrist in Hawaii…the first time he had seen him through the
bars of his cage, his cold, black eyes radiating power and brutality…Jungkook standing on the
train platform, receding into the distance…

Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook…

Taehyung feels he has no choice but to paint these moments, put them down on canvas so he won’t
forget. He paints until his hands cramp up and his eyes glaze over; black pigment permanently
resides underneath his fingernails now. When he’s not painting Jungkook, he fills his canvases with
mighty dragons and delicate bluebirds, tigers prowling through dense jungles and golden birdcages
smashed to pieces. He’s been working in a sort of frenzy for the last few weeks, producing a new
painting almost every day as if he’s in danger of running out of time and he has to get them all out
of his mind and onto the canvas before it’s too late.

It’s a feeling that nags at him sometimes but he pushes it away and he paints. And paints. And
paints. Starting early in the morning and continuing late into the night, only stopping a few times a
day to take Yeontan out somewhere and take advantage of his selfish, beloved freedom.

He clearly remembers the day all of his art supplies had arrived from Seoul because it had been the
last time he had spoken to Jungkook.

There had been a buzz at his intercom one day about a week after he had gotten settled into his
new apartment and then five minutes later, two delivery men were carting in the boxes that
contained his art supplies as well as about forty brand new canvases, a lot more than Taehyung
remembered leaving behind. His suspicions growing, he had cracked open the boxes after the
delivery guys had left to find extra paint as well as some new palette knives that he had never seen
before. But no note or anything.

Heaving a sigh, he had picked up one of the palette knives to take a closer look while Yeontan
sniffed around the boxes. Not only had Jungkook sent him all of his art supplies, he had actually
provided him with new ones too. As if he didn’t feel guilty enough already.

Just as he was opening up another box, his phone started vibrating in his pocket and, distracted, he
answered it without checking the name on the screen first.

“Hello?” he said absently, taking out his brush roll and flipping it open.

“Uh, hey, it’s me.”

Taehyung dropped his brush roll, his heart twanging in his chest. “Jungkook?”

“Yeah, hi.” There was a long pause of about five seconds before he spoke again. “Listen, I was just
calling to see if you got all of your art stuff today. I’ve, uh, been tracking the shipment and it says
it’s just been delivered so…”
“Oh,” Taehyung said, his shoulders slumping. “Um, yeah, I just got everything, thanks. Plus the
extra stuff, too, but you really didn’t have to do that—”

“It’s not a big deal, Tae,” Jungkook said gruffly. “Just wanted to make sure you had everything you
needed.”

Everything I need…but what I need the most is you…I need to know you’re safe…

“I know,” Taehyung said softly, feeling his throat tighten. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Tae. Like I said, no big deal.”

Jungkook’s tone was clipped, businesslike, as if he were waving off a favor he did for a passing
acquaintance. His words were completely at odds with the generosity of not only sending
Taehyung his art supplies but providing him with new ones as well.

There was another pause, longer and even more awkward this time, neither of them speaking.
There had been so much Taehyung wanted to say but he couldn’t bring himself to give voice to the
words that were on the tip of his tongue.

I love you. I miss you. I’ll come back if you want me to. If you’ll have me.

But the longer the silence stretched on, the more Taehyung got the feeling that Jungkook wouldn’t
be receptive to any pleas for forgiveness. It was so quiet that all Taehyung could hear were the
clicking sounds of Yeontan’s paws on the floor as he snuffled around the boxes.

“Well,” he said finally, “I guess I should—”

“Romeo and Juliet,” Jungkook said quickly.

For a second, Taehyung wasn’t sure if he had heard him correctly. “What?”

“Uh, Romeo and Juliet is my favorite ballet. I once told you that it was Don Quixote but…it’s
actually Romeo and Juliet.”

“Oh.” A rush of memories flooded his mind－holding Jungkook’s hand all throughout Swan Lake,
slow dancing in Jungkook’s dark penthouse on Christmas Eve, Jungkook’s attempt to make
waffles for him for breakfast on Christmas Day and then the conversation about ballet at the
dining table where Jungkook had indeed told him that Don Quixote was his favorite…

This simple revelation made him feel like crying and he had to force himself to take a deep breath
as he tried to keep his composure, biting down on his lip and blinking rapidly.

“I’ve never seen it,” he managed to say finally. “Or read the play. But I, um, know the general
story.”

“It’s really good,” Jungkook replied, sounding almost wistful. “Shitty ending though.”

“Right,” Taehyung said quietly, thinking of how the two lovers ended up dead. “Shitty ending.”

Although Taehyung was inclined to think that there were some love stories that had even worse
ones.

He had gripped his phone, thinking it was now or never, that if he didn’t at least say what he
wanted to say to Jungkook, to tell him what he needed him to know, he would always regret it.
“Jungkook,” he started to say, “I－”

“Look, Tae, I gotta go,” Jungkook said, clearing his throat. “I just wanted to check in and see that
you got your stuff okay.”

“Oh, well, I－”

“Bye,” Jungkook said stiffly. And then he had hung up.

And then Taehyung had just stood there like an idiot with the phone still pressed to his ear. “Bye,”
he whispered.

And then he had sat down in the middle of his living room floor, put his head in his hands and
wept. Just sat down and sobbed his heart out until his eyes ached and his face was damp and sticky
with tears. He only stopped when Yeontan clambered into his lap, making little whimpering noises
as if he was imitating him.

“Brat,” Taehyung said, laughing and crying at the same time. “It’s not nice to make fun of people.”

Then he had picked himself up off the floor, set his easel up, and painted a picture of Jungkook,
one that depicted him standing outside of Taehyung’s bird cage on the very first night they had
met. He cried even more as he was painting it and he had to keep pausing to wipe the tears off his
cheeks. But it was the first step for him. The first step to accepting that maybe him and Jungkook
were simply not meant to be.

But accepting that didn’t make it hurt any less. And it didn’t stop Taehyung from hoping that
Jungkook would just magically appear at his door one day, saying that he was finally free of the
Yong Jegug. It also didn’t stop him from taking Yeontan out for walks near the train station,
looking at the times for departures back to Seoul and wondering if he should go back. But he
always ended up turning around and going back to his new apartment.

And he’s going to remain there for the rest of his life, alone. Because that’s what he deserves.

He blinks, coming back to himself and the cold night as Yeontan lets out the tiniest little yip and
then starts growling in the least intimidating way, staring across the road at something.

Taehyung looks up but there’s still no one around, just the empty parked cars lining the curb. Or at
least, Taehyung assumed they had been empty.

He shivers as his gaze falls on one in particular, a black SUV with tinted windows, kind of like the
one Jin had driven him around in. He doesn’t remember seeing it outside his building before but
that doesn’t mean anything－maybe he just hadn’t noticed it until now. But he gets an uneasy
feeling as he continues to stare at the car, as if someone is inside watching him. He’s too far away
to be able to tell and the car is parked in the shadows, away from any illuminating streetlamps.

The more Taehyung stares at the car, the more he gets the feeling that someone is staring right
back.

Goosebumps creep over his skin, raising the hairs at the nape of his neck and he bends down,
scooping up Yeontan in his arms and walks quickly towards the front door of his apartment
building, fumbling his keys out of his pocket. He checks over his shoulder as he tries to unlock the
door, dropping his keys in his haste, the clinking sound they make as they hit the pavement
echoing like a gunshot in his ears.

Yeontan whimpers as he bends down to pick them up and he makes shushing noises as he at last
manages to get the key in the lock and open the door.

“Shh…shh…it’s okay, Tannie, it’s okay, everything’s fine…”

He steps inside, shutting the door behind him and peering out at the car through the glass. Still
dark, no sign of anyone around, the street completely empty of people.

Hugging Yeontan to his chest, he bolts for the staircase, trying to tell himself that he’s just being
paranoid.

Even though his heart is pounding in his chest.

***

Jungkook paces in front of his penthouse window, restless and for once, completely sober. He had
woken up this morning, a feeling of dread weighing heavily in his stomach. At first, he had figured
it was just a remnant of the usual recurring nightmare he was still having every night, the one of
him chasing the tiger through the jungle. But the dream had seemed more vivid and intense last
night, the tiger’s screams louder than ever before and the sense of dread, instead of dissipating, has
only increased as the day has gone on.

He wants to call Taehyung. Or at least text him, just to make sure he’s okay. But what would he
even say? “Hey, sorry to bother you but I just have this weird feeling that something might have
happened to you. Or I might just be completely paranoid right now, I can’t actually tell.”

And Taehyung might not even answer his phone, considering how their very last conversation had
gone. Jungkook certainly wouldn’t blame Taehyung if he didn’t want to talk to him. He had been
such an asshole that day. But only because it had suddenly hit him as soon as he heard Taehyung’s
voice that he was in his new apartment and living so very far away from him. And that had only
pissed him off. And it had only pissed him off because it hurt too much to think about.

Maybe he is just being paranoid. But he still can’t quite shake the feeling that something isn’t right.

“Would you stop pacing around?” Yoongi says irritably, sitting at his dining table. “You’re
stressing me out.”

It’s late afternoon and they had just finished a meeting with the inner circle, Yoongi staying behind
to fill Jungkook in on what he had missed because, once again, he hadn’t been paying attention to
any of it even though he had been sitting right there. It had all just been unintelligible murmurs to
his ears.

Jungkook stops pacing for a second, looking out the window as the sun starts to sink beneath the
horizon.

Something’s not right, his mind insists. Something’s not right.

For some reason, his brain keeps throwing up images to the front of his mind of Taehyung on the
first night he had met him－dressed in white lingerie, perched on that swing in his oversized
birdcage. Bright, defiant fire snapping in his eyes.

He chews on a hangnail on the side of his thumb, scanning the view outside as if he’s missed a
clue somewhere. “I dunno, man,” he starts to say to Yoongi, “I just feel like something’s－”

His phone starts to vibrate in his pocket.

Frowning, he takes it out and checks the screen, feeling his shoulders stiffen as he reads the name
displayed.

Kim Taehyung: Video attachment.

“Boss?” Yoongi says from the table, sounding concerned. “What is it? It’s not fucking Baek again,
is it?”

Jungkook shakes his head, still staring at the screen. “No,” he says, forcing himself to speak
around the lump in his throat. “It’s from Tae.”

“From Tae? But why would he…”

But Jungkook doesn’t hear the rest of what he says, his entire focus zeroing in on the phone as he
opens the message and presses play on the video.

The camera shows a wide shot of Taehyung at some sort of park, looking as if it’s been filmed
from across the street, judging by the cars going past and blocking him from view every few
seconds. He’s crouching on the ground, Yeontan in front of him, holding his leash and playing
some sort of minuscule game of fetch with him, throwing a tiny soccer ball a little ways away and
encouraging the puppy to go after it.

Jungkook can see that he’s saying something to Yeontan, practically hear Taehyung’s voice in his
head.

“Fetch, Tannie, fetch! Good boy!”

The soft smile on Taehyung’s face when Yeontan trots back to him with the ball feels like a needle
piercing into Jungkook’s heart.

A child dressed in a bulky winter coat drags his mother over towards Taehyung, clearly asking if
he can pet Yeontan. A car passes in front of him again and Jungkook misses his response but when
he comes into view again, Taehyung is holding Yeontan in his arms and the boy is gently patting
the puppy on the head while the mother looks on, smiling. After a few minutes, the mother starts to
make ‘let’s go’ gestures to the boy and the boy reluctantly allows her to tug him away, both of
them waving goodbye to Taehyung. Taehyung waves back, standing up and still holding Yeontan
in his arms, staring after the mother and son until they’re both out of sight. Then he turns to leave
the park, his expression solemn. Not once does he look at the camera or even seem to know that
he’s being filmed.

There’s a clumsy cut and then the next shot shows Taehyung at some sort of art gallery, wandering
around with Yeontan bundled up in his coat. Another one of him browsing in a book store, holding
Yeontan with one hand while he pages through a book with the other. There’s a scene of Taehyung
coming out of a grocery store, laden down with bags. Another one of him taking Yeontan out for a
walk, the puppy trotting along happily for two minutes until he sits down, looking up at Taehyung,
clearly whining to be picked up and carried. Jungkook can tell because it’s what always ended up
happening when he and Taehyung had taken him out for walks together.

Taehyung always seems to be filmed from far away, completely oblivious to the camera, not
knowing that he’s being watched. As Jungkook stares mutely down at the screen, he can feel the
realization creeping over him even as his mind begins to shut down, obliterating all the thoughts in
his head, not wanting to acknowledge the horror of what he’s seeing.

There’s another cut and the next scene shows Taehyung standing outside of his apartment building
at night, wearing an overcoat over his pajamas, his breath clouding in front of him as Yeontan
sniffs around the grass. The camera zooms in on Taehyung’s face and he appears to be lost in
thought, staring off into the middle distance. It’s then Yeontan lets out a shrill bark and Taehyung
blinks, looking up－and straight into the camera. He shivers, staring right into the lens for a good
ten seconds before he hastily picks Yeontan up and quickly walks to the door of his apartment
building. Jungkook flinches when he sees Taehyung drop his keys, watches him open the door and
close it behind him before peering out the window, right into the camera again. And then he
disappears from view as he hurries away from the door.

Whoever is filming lets out a soft chuckle and Jungkook feels icy pinpricks of dread and fear crawl
across his skin. He’d know that laugh anywhere.

The next scene shows the camera trailing behind two burly men, both of them wearing balaclavas,
as they march down a hallway, come to a halt outside the door and kick it open. They rush inside,
the camera following, the footage becoming a chaotic mess of shadows and noise; the two men
move in, boots clomping on the floor but then there’s a rushing noise, the sound of metal hitting
flesh and one of the men drops to the ground.

A panicked shout; more footsteps; a smaller figure silhouetted in the darkness holding what looks
like a baseball bat.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Taehyung’s voice is loud, seething with anger. “I said get the fuck out!”

“Put the bat down, you stupid kid!” The man who avoided being hit by the baseball bat tries to
move towards him but Taehyung swings out with the bat again and the man hastily retreats.

“Knew we should have brought our guns,” a voice mutters from behind the camera. Then there’s a
high-pitched snarling barking sound and the camera pans down to Yeontan snapping his tiny teeth
at the man’s ankle, the puppy resembling a ferocious hellhound despite his small size.

“Ah, what have we here?” A hand grabs at Yeontan, the camera jerks back up to Taehyung and
there’s a shrill, piercing yip from Yeontan, the kind of sound a dog makes when you step on his
tail.

“No!” Taehyung cries, sounding panicked now. “Put him down!”

“Put the bat down first, kid.” Another painful yip from Yeontan. “You’ve got five seconds.”

“Put him down!”

“Put the fucking bat down or I swear I’ll stomp on your mutt’s tiny fucking head!”

Taehyung lets out a sob and then there’s the sound of metal clattering on wood as he throws the bat
down onto the floor.

Another chuckle from the man holding the camera. “There’s a good boy. Now you’re going to
come with us, nice and quiet, or puppy gets put to sleep, understand?”

“F-fine,” Taehyung says, his voice shaking. “Just don’t hurt him.”

“Don’t worry, kid. Your dog’s not the one I’m interested in hurting.”

The man wearing the balaclava moves in, striking Taehyung right in the face and he crumples to
the ground, the thud of his body hitting the floor sounding all too familiar to Jungkook’s ears.

The screen goes black for a full five seconds and then Taehyung’s face comes into view. His left
eye is nearly swollen shut; there’s a livid bruise on his cheekbone; blood trickling from his split
bottom lip. He glares straight into the camera, that familiar bright fire not gone or even dimmed but
intensified, burning hot. A strange thought floats through Jungkook’s numbed brain that he
wouldn’t be surprised if Taehyung was able to melt the camera into a pile of ash with a look like
that.

The camera pans back to reveal Taehyung sitting in a chair, ropes binding him in place. They cross
along his chest, wrap around his ankles, bind his wrists to the arms of the chair so he’s completely
immobile. Jungkook recognizes the technique. It’s the same one Min SungWon had taught to
Yoongi.

There’s a bare lightbulb hanging right above him, the light casting him in sharp relief to the
shadows that surround him but Jungkook can just make out what looks like a corrugated metal wall
behind him.

Warehouse, a functioning part of his mind whispers, he’s in a warehouse somewhere.

There’s a screeching sound and Min SungWon steps into the frame, dragging a metal folding chair
behind him. He places it beside Taehyung and sits down with a sigh. Taehyung doesn’t look at
him, or even acknowledge that he’s there. He just keeps staring into the camera.

SungWon glances at the camera for a brief second before turning back to Taehyung, reaching into
his jacket pocket and pulling out a switchblade. He flicks it open, the distinct snick of the blade
locking into place absolutely deafening in the silence.

“Lingchi,” SungWon says casually, examining the blade. “That’s what the Chinese called it.
Translates roughly to ‘the slow process’ or ‘the lingering death.’ But more familiarly known as
‘death by a thousand cuts.’” He smirks, glancing at Taehyung before going back to studying the
knife in his hand. “Very slow, takes a lot of time. I’ve only done it once or twice in my day but I
find it to be one of the more effective methods of torture. Especially when you need some
information. And I like that it’s elegant, too, in a way. No sledgehammers or baseball bats or any
other sort of blunt instrument used by thugs. No, I like methods that have some artistry to them.
And all you need is a knife. Oh, and some salt.” He reaches into his jacket pocket again and pulls
out a small plastic baggie filled with tiny white crystals. “Can’t forget the salt.”

Taehyung stares straight ahead, acting as if he hasn’t even heard SungWon. But there’s a small
flicker of unease, hardly noticeable, the barest of blinks. But Jungkook can see Taehyung reel it
back in almost immediately, his face a mask of perfect stoicism once more.

“I’ll admit you caused more trouble than I initially bargained for, Taehyung,” SungWon says,
tapping his finger against the blade. He laughs. “I’m pretty sure you gave one of my men a
concussion at the very least with that bat. I’m tempted to hollow out your insides, just to teach you
a lesson. But I’ll make a deal with you. I won’t hurt you, I’ll let you walk away and go back home
to where your cute little puppy is waiting for you.” He places a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and
points into the camera with the other one. “All you have to do, Taehyung, is look into that camera
and tell Jungkook to come get you. And be sure to ask politely, you know, say please.”

Taehyung grips the arm of the chair, slanting his gaze away from the camera, looking to the side.
He mutters something, something that Jungkook can’t hear.

“Hmm? Speak up, Taehyung, so we can all hear you.”

Taehyung turns to face SungWon, speaking through gritted teeth: “I don’t know him.”

SungWon sighs heavily, like a teacher who has just had to listen to a student make an
embarrassingly incorrect answer. “Already, you’re making it so difficult, Taehyung, when it really
doesn’t need to be.” He reaches for Taehyung’s arm, turns it just enough so that his inner forearm
is facing upwards. “I want you to know that what is about to happen to you is entirely your fault.”

He lowers the knife to Taehyung’s arm and makes a small, surgical cut on his wrist, a line of blood
appearing on his skin. Taehyung clenches his jaw but offers no other reaction.

“You think you’re tough,” SungWon says conversationally, opening the bag of salt. “I’m about to
show you that you’re not.”

He pours some out onto his hand and then slaps it over Taehyung’s wrist, rubbing it right into the
wound.

Taehyung gasps, his entire body stiffening, his hands clenching and unclenching as he sucks in
rapid breaths through his teeth.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” SungWon says, gazing into his face. “Rubbing salt in the wound? It’s exactly
how I felt on the day my own son abandoned me. Although, for me the pain was metaphorical.”

Taehyung lets his head fall back against the chair, his eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck you.”

“I wouldn’t be talking to me like that if I was in your position, Taehyung. No, if I were you, I’d be
more polite. Now if you want me to stop, just tell Jungkook to come get you. I’m sure he’ll want to
as soon as he sees this anyways.”

“I told you already, I don’t fucking know him!”

SungWon makes a tsking noise and then makes another cut on Taehyung’s arm, right next to the
first one. “No? Did he not buy your virginity for a grand total of one million American dollars at
the Bird Cage?” Another cut, then another right after that, Taehyung flinching in the chair. “Did he
not keep you as his little sex slave for, what was it, four months?” He pours more salt into his
hand. “And did your relationship not somehow blossom into the kind of romance children read
about in storybooks? I’ll admit, I never would have figured Jungkook to be that type.”

“I don’t－”

SungWon slaps his hand over Taehyung’s arm again, rubbing the salt in and Taehyung’s body
jerks against the ropes holding him in place, instinctively trying to get away.

“I don’t like liars, Taehyung. I don’t like that you keep telling me that you don’t know Jungkook
when I know that you do. More lies will only bring you more pain. Tell the truth now. What do
you know about Jungkook?”

Taehyung turns to SungWon, a steely expression in his eyes, despite the fact that he’s started to
tremble. He rears back and hawks a glob of bloody spit right into SungWon’s face.

“Rot in hell, you piece of shit.”

SungWon stares at Taehyung for a few seconds, frowning slightly as if he’s some unknown
species he’s just discovered for the first time. He wipes Taehyung’s spit away from his face with
the sleeve of his jacket, seemingly calm and unruffled.

Then, lashing out like a viper, he seizes Taehyung’s hair and yanks his head back, holding the knife
to the hollow of his throat. “This little defiant act of yours is a little bit amusing, I admit,” he
sneers. “I know of certain gang members who would have wet their pants by now and be crying for
their mommies. But even if I am temporarily amused, I’m already getting tired of it, Taehyung. All
I need is for you to tell Jungkook to come get you.”

Taehyung’s chest heaves, his breath coming in quick little jerks but he doesn’t beg or plead or
scream. All he says is, “I don’t know him.”

SungWon sighs again. “How disappointing.”

And for the next few excruciating minutes, a pattern develops. SungWon tells Taehyung to beg for
Jungkook to come get him and Taehyung insists that he doesn’t know him. More cuts along his
forearm, more salt rubbed into them. And not just straight lines but curves and angles and after a
few minutes, it dawns on Jungkook that SungWon is carving letters into Taehyung’s skin. Writing
a word that he can’t make out.

Taehyung gasps and writhes in the chair, face rigid with pain, but he doesn’t once plead for him to
stop or relent or even start shouting desperately for help. The only words he speaks are, “I don’t
know him, I don’t know him, I don’t know him.”

Soon there is a line of bleeding red marks along Taehyung’s forearm, right up to his elbow.
SungWon pauses for a moment, leaning back in his chair, considering Taehyung, his eyes flicking
from his face to his arm.

“I don’t know why you’re trying to protect Jungkook right now,” he muses, rubbing at his chin.
“You think he’d do the same for you?”

Taehyung sits slumped in the chair, his breathing shallow, not saying anything.

“It’s very noble of you, Taehyung,” SungWon says. “But misguided. Do you want to know where
Jungkook probably is right now?” He leans close to Taehyung, hissing in his ear. “He’s probably
balls deep in some whore. Using her just the way he used you.” He sneers, eyeing Taehyung up
and down. “Or perhaps you think you’re special. But you haven’t known him for as long as I have,
Taehyung. See, Jungkook always liked his whores. Going to the Bird Cage almost every night to
get his rocks off, ever since his daddy paid for his first visit when he was a teenager. The only
thing he cared about was getting his dick wet. A hole is a hole is a hole, you know? That’s
poetry.” He grins savagely. “Whatever the nature of your relationship, whatever you think the two
of you had, I’m sure it was just convenient sex on his side. In fact, I’m willing to bet he doesn’t
give a damn about you at all.”

Taehyung is looking up at the camera now, a single tear tracking down his face. He takes a deep
breath, turns to face SungWon. “Then if that’s the case, he wouldn’t bother to come get me, would
he?” And even though Taehyung is shaking, his voice is remarkably steady. “If I’m just a whore.
You took the wrong hostage, dumbass, so why don’t you just go ahead and kill me? He’s not going
to come here to come get me.” As he says this, he faces the camera again, looking straight into it.
Straight at Jungkook.

“Well,” SungWon says, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. “I guess I’ll just have to
call him and see if that’s the case.” He stands up, moves behind the camera, out of sight. “I’ll send
him some nice footage of you first,” he goes on, “including this one. And then we’ll see if he
thinks your ass is worth saving or not.”

“Wait!”

Taehyung’s gaze is trained behind the camera now, presumably looking at SungWon, and for the
first time, he looks afraid.

“I have money,” he says. “Lots of it. Over ten million dollars. I’ll give it to you, all of it. Just don’t
call him.”

There’s dead silence for a stretch of nearly ten seconds and then SungWon laughs. A hearty,
booming laugh as if someone had just told him the world’s funniest joke.

“You’re offering me money?” SungWon asks, his voice full of derision. “So that I’ll leave
Jungkook alone? He must have fucked you good, kid, if you’re this blindly loyal to him.”

“Please,” Taehyung says, more desperate now. “Please, I don’t care what you do to me, I don’t
care, just please don’t call him, don’t hurt him! I’ll do anything, I’ll－”

“You’ll what?” SungWon sneers. “Give me a fucking blowjob along with all that cash? I’ll admit
you do have a pretty mouth on you.”

“Whatever!” Taehyung cries, almost frantic now. “I’ll do whatever, just don’t call him, please－”

“Hmm…I don’t swing that way, sweetheart. Never could see the appeal of other men. Besides,
whores are a dime a dozen, you know. And as for the money, I expect to have the entirety of the
Yong Jegug’s financial holdings in my possession very soon.”

“No, wait, please－”

The camera shuts off, the video ends and it’s only then that Jungkook becomes aware that he’s
fallen to his knees. There’s a low moaning sound, like the cries of a wounded animal and it takes a
few seconds for him to realize that the sounds are coming from him.

“No,” he whispers, dropping his phone to the floor. “No.” Nausea roils inside his gut and he
doubles over, pressing his forehead to the floor, fisting his hands in his hair, nearly ripping it out.

“NO!” he screams, so loudly and for so long he feels his throat burn raw with pain. “NO!”

“JK,” Yoongi says from beside him and he’s vaguely aware of his friend’s hand on his arm. “We
can find him, okay, we just need to－”

His phone vibrates against the floor and Jungkook’s head jerks up to see Taehyung’s name on the
screen. He fumbles for it, even though Yoongi is saying something to him, telling him to wait－

But Jungkook doesn’t wait. “Tae!” he shouts into the phone, thinking, in his panicked state, that
maybe Taehyung had managed to get away. “Tae, are you－”
SungWon’s soft laugh comes through the speaker. “Do you know how Taehyung has you
programmed into his phone?” He pauses for effect before going on. “It’s just your name,
Jungkook, but right next to it is a little red heart. Isn’t that adorable?”

“YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!” Jungkook surges to his feet, grabbing the back of a dining
chair and throwing it bodily across his penthouse with one hand, sending it spinning end over end.
“I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU, I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD－”

“You always did have such an abominable temper,” SungWon says. “You got that from your
father. But try to control yourself, Jungkook, and remember who it is that I am sitting beside right
now. You saw the video, right? So keep in mind what I’ve done and what I can still do.”

At these words, all the fight drains out of Jungkook and he leans against the dining table, the phone
pressed to his ear. He squeezes his eyes shut, once again sees the line of bloody cuts marring
Taehyung’s forearm.

“I want to talk to him,” Jungkook grits out, willing himself to get his voice under control. “I want to
talk to him right now.”

SungWon chuckles. “I thought you might say that. In fact, I was hoping you would. Hold on.”

Then there’s only silence until Jungkook hears SungWon hiss, “Talk, you little shit.” And then
Taehyung speaks.

“Jungkook?” His voice is soft, hardly a whisper but the sound of it nearly drives Jungkook to his
knees once more. He steadies himself, tries to speak past the tightness in his throat.

“Tae, oh my god, Tae…” His voice is trembling, hand shaking so badly he can hardly keep his
phone up to his ear. Fear engulfs him, thinking of SungWon sitting right next to him, the knife, the
blood, and the fact that he doesn’t even know where Taehyung is right now. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Taehyung says calmly, with not even a hint of pain or terror. “I need you to listen
to me, okay?”

“Tae－”

“Don’t come.”

But Jungkook is already shaking his head, denying Taehyung’s words, denying the meaning of
them. “No, baby, I’m coming, okay? I’m going to come get you－”

“No, you’re not.” In the background, SungWon murmurs something but Taehyung seems to ignore
him. “I don’t want you to come get me, Jungkook. Stay the fuck away from m-me.” His voice
hitches on the last word, not with emotion but with pain and Jungkook envisions the knife cutting
into Taehyung’s arm all over again and if he wasn’t at his breaking point before, he is now.

His throat works, eyes stinging with tears as he slams his fist helplessly against the table, and he
bites the inside of his cheek hard, hard enough to taste blood, willing himself to hold it together
because Taehyung needs him right now and if he falls apart now, it’ll be over for both of them.

“Tae, I’m coming to get you,” Jungkook says, unable to keep his voice from breaking. “Why
wouldn’t I－”

Taehyung makes a frustrated noise, low in his throat. “Because it’s a trap, you idiot!” Taehyung
shouts. “It’s a fucking trap, he’s going to fucking kill you, stay the fuck away－”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU FUCKING WHORE!”

SungWon’s rage echoes through the phone’s speaker and then there’s a great crashing noise, wood
thudding on concrete. But Taehyung is still shouting.

“Jungkook, don’t come!” he yells. “Don’t come, he’s going to kill you, stay away－”

“I SAID SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Then comes the chilling thunk of flesh hitting flesh, not just once but over and over again.

“Jungkook, don’t－” Taehyung’s words are abruptly cut off by another blow and then he makes a
choking noise, sounding as if he’s trying to heave air into his lungs but he’s having difficulty
breathing.

“Stop it!” Jungkook screams into the phone, not even knowing where Taehyung’s phone is on the
other end, if they can even hear him. “SungWon, stop! Stop fucking hurting him－”

The choking noises cease and then a few seconds later, SungWon’s voice is hissing into
Jungkook’s ear.

“Mouthy fucking whore, isn’t he?” he says, sounding slightly out of breath. “You’re lucky I didn’t
crush his fucking windpipe. So tell me, Jungkook－do I have your attention now?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says weakly, gripping onto the edge of the table. “You have my full attention,
SungWon, just－just don’t hurt him. I’m begging you, just don’t hurt him anymore.”

“Okay, then let’s do this properly, Jungkook. Ask me what I want.”

Jungkook swallows thickly, bowing his head. “What do you want?”

“I want your empire, Jungkook,” SungWon says. “I want every crooked cop and corrupt politician
you own, I want every street, every soldier at your command, all the money that I helped earn for
your father. In short, I want what’s rightfully mine. And,” he goes on, voice silky smooth, “I want
some insurance. I want the guarantee that you will never turn up again to cause any sort of trouble
for me. I want a lifetime guarantee, Jungkook. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes,” Jungkook says quietly. “I understand.”

“Good. And in exchange for all of that, your whore gets to walk away from this relatively
unscathed and go on to live a happy, peaceful life. Do we have a deal?”

It was the simplest of deals, a bare-bones arrangement. His empire didn’t even factor into the
equation. It was just his life for Taehyung’s. And for Jungkook, there was no hesitation. It wasn’t
even a question of what he would choose.

“Yes,” he says calmly. “We have a deal. Now tell me where you are so I can come get him and
fulfill my end of our bargain.”

“Warehouse at the end of the dock on the south side of the Han river. You know the one, we’ve
used it plenty of times. In fact, I think it’s the same one where you had your initiation, Jungkook.”

That day flashes through his mind for a split second, the shaking of his hand, the smell of the gun
smoke. “I know the one. I’m on my way. And you are not to put your hands on him again while
you’re waiting for me, understand?”
SungWon chuckles. “I don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands right now, Jungkook.
But all right, I’ll keep my hands to myself. But if you’re not here in the next hour, I’ll consider our
verbal contract null and void and start in on him again. Maybe this time on his pretty face.”

“No need for that,” Jungkook grits out. “I’ll be there.”

“Excellent. I expect to see you shortly then.”

Jungkook hangs up and turns to see Yoongi, staring at him ashen-faced. He blinks. He had
completely forgotten that Yoongi was even here.

“What kind of deal did you just make?” But Yoongi looks like he already knows the answer to his
own question.

“A deal that will get Tae out safely. That’s the only thing that matters.” Jungkook walks right past
Yoongi, heading for the door. “I’m leaving. I suggest you take this opportunity to take Jimin and
get as far away from Seoul as possible.”

“Jungkook.”

The tone of Yoongi’s voice stops Jungkook dead in his tracks but he doesn’t turn around to look at
his friend. He sighs. “It’s the only way, Yoongi.”

“It can’t be the only way,” Yoongi protests, sounding desperate. “Come on, man, there’s gotta be
another option, one where you don’t have to－”

Jungkook wheels around, marching up to Yoongi and seizing the front of his jacket. “If it was
Jimin, what would you do?” he roars. “You’d do the exact same fucking thing!”

“I know,” Yoongi says softly, reaching up and gently detaching Jungkook’s hands from his jacket.
“I would do the same thing. But I also think you’d try to help me think of a better way. So let me
do that, Jungkook.” He stares directly into Jungkook’s face, not looking away. “Let me help you.
So we can save Tae and save your dumb fucking ass and take my father out while we’re at it.”
Yoongi takes a step back, letting out a huff of annoyance. “This noble self-sacrificing shit doesn’t
suit you anyways.”

“We don’t have fucking time to come up with a fucking plan,” Jungkook growls. “I need to go get
Tae now.”

“I have a plan, dipshit. Five minutes. That’s all I need.”

“Yoongi…”

“Look, do you trust me or not?”

Jungkook stares at Yoongi for a long moment, considering his friend, this man who had been like a
brother to him, grown up with him, fought by his side and then, one night, failed him and his
family so completely.

He clenches his jaw. And then he nods. “I trust you.”

“Good. Glad we’ve established that. Now will you give me five minutes?”

“You have two minutes.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, reaching into his pocket for his phone. “I can work with that.”
Yoongi steps out onto Jungkook’s balcony, holding his phone to his ear as he gazes out at the twilit
skyscrapers, night quickly closing in. He had insisted on privacy for this conversation, telling
Jungkook that it would be a delicate matter and he didn’t need Jungkook pacing back and forth and
potentially flying off the handle only for SungWon to overhear him and know immediately what
was up.

That’s what he had told him. But the real reason is Yoongi doesn’t want Jungkook to listen in on
his conversation with his father.

The phone rings and rings and rings until he finally hears it being picked up, a grunt on the other
end.

Yoongi’s mouth suddenly goes dry and he finds himself unable to say anything. The last time he
had spoken to his father was on the night SungWon had killed Jungkook’s parents. Had been
waiting in his apartment for him when Yoongi had gotten back from seeing Jimin at the Bird Cage.
His father’s voice filled with accusation and fury.

“He’s not fit to lead the Yong Jegug,” his father had raged. “It’s his father’s fault, he didn’t raise
him properly. That’s why I did it, Yoongi, can’t you see? By killing him, I’ve cut out the poison that
was seeping into the Yong Jegug but we have to take out all of it, we have to kill Jungkook too. And
then we can take over, set things right. And we’ll rule together, as father and son, and things will
be just as they should be, as they always should have been. You and I…we’re not meant to be right
hands, not meant to be underlings to be commanded. We’re meant to rule. Not them, us. But we
have to take care of Jungkook first, you’ll help me, won’t you?”

Yes, SungWon had betrayed Jungkook’s family, killed Jeon Nami, a kind, caring woman, the only
sort of mother Yoongi had ever known.

But, at the end of the day, this was still his father. Bound to him by ties of blood, the only ones he
had left in the world.

“Dad?” He hadn’t meant to say it like that, so tentatively. This isn’t the time to show weakness or
uncertainty but that’s all he can feel right now. Weak and uncertain.

There’s another grunt on the end of line, footsteps echoing on concrete and Yoongi can picture his
father walking to the other side of the warehouse, away from Taehyung’s listening ears. A shrewd
man, his father. And it also means Taehyung is still conscious.

“Yoongi.” His father’s voice is quiet, almost as tentative as his own. “I wasn’t expecting to hear
from you.”
“I know.” Yoongi clears his throat, tries to still his racing his mind. “But you were right about him,
dad. He’s fucking crazy. Ready to throw away the Yong Jegug for some…whore. I should have
listened to you that night, I should have…helped you.”

There’s a long pause at the other end before his father speaks again. “Does this mean you’re
willing to help me now, Yoongi?”

“Yes. I just want all of this to be fucking over. But…you gotta hold off on hurting the kid, dad.
You and I both know that Jungkook gets hopped up on revenge fantasies. So you need to lay off
for now or he’ll do something stupid and we’ll all be fucked.”

“Yoongi…you don’t have some misplaced affection for Jungkook’s whore, do you?”

“What? No!” Yoongi’s lips twist in disgust, thinking back to the day he had first seen Taehyung,
coming out of the Bird Cage in his bare feet, Jungkook telling him about the exclusivity contract
and the rage that had burned within him. “I don’t give a fuck about him. But the more he’s left
unharmed, the more useful he is as a bargaining chip. It’s always the threat of torture that pushes
people to their breaking point, dad. You taught me that, remember?”

“This kid seems to have missed the memo on that,” his father mutters. “Tough little whore, I’ll
give him that. But you’re right, he’s more useful alive than dead. I’m assuming you have a plan,
then?”

Yoongi closes his eyes, tightening his grip on his phone. “Yeah, I do,” he says. “Just listen…”

Jungkook steps into the warehouse, Yoongi at his side, his eyes immediately going to Taehyung,
still bound to the chair. And although he had tried to mentally prepare himself on the way over, the
sight of Taehyung’s arm nearly shatters his heart. Because he can finally see the word SungWon
has etched there in bright, shining blood.

WHORE

Intellectually, he can see the cuts aren’t that deep, that SungWon has, by accident or on purpose,
missed his radial artery, the one that would have had Taehyung bleeding out in mere minutes. But
Taehyung has still been hurt, marred for life. Branded with that cruel word that Jungkook himself
had once called Taehyung. Once again Jungkook has let someone with a knife get too close to him
when he had promised that he would never let anything harm him. Not ever.

I’m not going to let anything happen to you.

Too many broken promises but the one he has made tonight, to whoever or whatever the fuck was
up there (if there was anyone and Jungkook certainly had his doubts)－he would be sure to keep it.
Let him live. I don’t care if I die, I promise I’ll go willingly, just please let him get out of this alive.

Taehyung is staring at him, shaking his head, tears spilling out of his eyes as Jungkook and Yoongi
approach, stopping about ten feet away from where Taehyung is tied to the chair. Min SungWon
stands beside him, no longer holding a knife. Instead, he has a gun pointed at Taehyung’s head.

SungWon’s cold eyes flick back and forth between Jungkook and Yoongi. “Nice of you to show
up, Jeon. For a few minutes, I really thought you might not come.” He smiles, baring his teeth.
“Especially considering the fact that you’re all alone.”

“What are you－”

Yoongi steps away from him, swiftly bringing his gun up to point, not at his father, but directly
into Jungkook’s face.

Jungkook raises his hands, glaring at him. “Really? You’re going to pull this traitor shit now?”

Yoongi’s eyes are hard, his expression as unreadable as when they used to play poker together.
“You’re an idiot if you didn’t see this coming, Jungkook. I know which fucking side I’m on.”

But the gun wavers slightly in Yoongi’s hand and Jungkook wills him not to lose focus because
they really need to sell it to Min SungWon if they all want to get out of this alive. Make his father
believe that Yoongi really had turned traitor so that Yoongi could get close enough to him and once
they made sure that Taehyung was safely out of the building…

It was all part of the plan.

But of course, Taehyung didn’t know that.

“Yoongi?”

Jungkook looks over at Taehyung, who is staring at Yoongi, looking horrified.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Taehyung cries. “Stop…stop pointing that gun at him for fuck’s
sake!”

“Shut up, kid,” SungWon growls. His eyes are once again shifting back and forth between
Jungkook and Yoongi, shrewd and calculating. “Check him for weapons, Yoongi.”

Jungkook and Yoongi exchange glances and there’s a split second of hesitation before Yoongi
moves close, roughly feeling around his waist before yanking out the pistol tucked in the back of
Jungkook’s pants and walking over to his father, handing it to him.

Shit. That wasn’t part of the plan.

Min SungWon makes a tsking noise as he takes the gun from Yoongi, his eyes still on Jungkook.
“Not very honorable of you, Jeon.” He tosses it into a corner of the warehouse, his own gun still
trained on Taehyung. “Coming here in such bad faith.”

In other circumstances, Jungkook would have countered with a snappy retort, some kind of
sarcastic remark. But not now, not when SungWon has that gun aimed directly at Taehyung.

“My apologies,” Jungkook says stiffly. “Chalk it up to force of habit. Now I’m here, just as we
agreed. I formally renounce my leadership of the Yong Jegug and hand it over to you. My empire
is yours.” He keeps his hands raised up, not daring to lower them and nods in Taehyung’s direction.
“Now let him go.”

SungWon grins at him. “Where are your manners, Jeon? You should remember your manners
when you’re talking to the most powerful man in all of Seoul.”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung then, his little tiger, mere inches away from the bullet in SungWon’s
gun. His heart slams against his chest as if it is physically trying to propel him towards Taehyung,
to get him out of danger. There’s no foolish pride left inside him, no swagger, no scores to settle
anymore. There is only his heart.

And it belongs to Taehyung.

“Please,” he whispers, still staring at Taehyung. “Please let him go.”

SungWon considers him for a moment that lasts for an eternity and then he steps back, jerking his
head at Yoongi, indicating the ropes binding Taehyung to the chair. Yoongi tucks his gun in his
belt and moves in to undo the ropes. Jungkook doesn’t dare move an inch; SungWon is still
pointing the gun at Taehyung’s head.

“Yoongi, you fucking traitor!” Taehyung yells as Yoongi starts to work on the knots on his chest.
“What about－”

Yoongi leans in close, whispering something in Taehyung’s ear and Taehyung immediately stops
talking, a puzzled look on his face. He looks from Yoongi to Jungkook and back again and
Jungkook is willing to bet all the money that he doesn’t have anymore that whatever Yoongi had
said to Taehyung had only left him even more confused and unsure.

His skin prickles uncomfortably. Had Yoongi just let Taehyung in on their plan? They certainly
hadn’t discussed that aspect of it beforehand but then again, they hadn’t had a lot of time to iron
out the details.

“I’ll let you say your goodbyes, Jeon,” SungWon says casually, as Yoongi undoes the last knot and
the ropes fall away from Taehyung. “You have one minute. And then your whore can leave and
you can fulfill your end of the bargain.”

Jungkook nods. “Understood.”

And then Yoongi is pulling Taehyung up from the chair, roughly shoving him towards Jungkook.
He stumbles, almost falls but even as Jungkook moves toward him, he rights himself before
flinging himself into Jungkook’s arms.

“You idiot,” Taehyung sobs, clinging to him. “I told you not to c-come h-here.”

Jungkook allows himself a brief second to give Taehyung a tight squeeze, hold him close, savoring
the warmth of him. He looks over Taehyung’s shoulder to see SungWon still holding the gun up,
pointing at both of them now but it’s aimed right between Taehyung’s shoulder blades. Jungkook
tries to turn them around so he can get between Taehyung and the gun but Taehyung refuses to
budge, stubbornly keeping his feet planted on the concrete floor, keeping himself in the line of fire.
Protecting him. Shielding him.

“Forty-five seconds, Jeon,” SungWon says.

And then Jungkook looks at Yoongi. He’s thinking now would be the perfect moment for Yoongi
to take his father out, even though they had agreed not to start shooting until Taehyung was safely
out of the building. But with Jungkook now being weaponless and Yoongi being the only one who
could do it…

Take the shot, Jungkook thinks desperately. Come on, take the shot…

But Yoongi is just standing there, staring at his father, making no move to reach for his gun.
Looking at SungWon as if he’s seeing him for the first time in his entire life. And then he glances
at Jungkook but then quickly looks away, his arms hanging limply at his sides. And although his
face is neutral, expressionless, Jungkook had still been able to catch the look in Yoongi’s eyes.

Shame.

And it’s then Jungkook realizes how utterly fucked he is.

The plan…the phone call…oh god, it was all part of the trap…

Yoongi, his right-hand man, his best friend since childhood was no longer on his side. Perhaps he
had never been on his side. But there’s no time to process it now or feel betrayed all over again. He
needs to get Taehyung out of here.

“Tae, listen to me,” Jungkook says, pulling back a little to be able to see Taehyung’s face. He
reaches up, cupping his cheek in his hand. “I love you.”

Taehyung shakes his head, another sob escaping him, his face streaked with tears. “Don’t s-say
that,” he whispers. “Don’t say that like you’re telling me goodbye.”

“I love you,” Jungkook says again. He caresses Taehyung’s damp cheek with his thumb, reveling
in the softness of his skin. “More than anything, Tae.”

More than life itself.

His breath hitching, Taehyung leans in, capturing Jungkook’s mouth in a kiss, and Jungkook tastes
salt and tears, honeyed sin and star-bright heaven, all the things that make up Taehyung and now
reside in his heart.

Not a bad way to go, actually.

“I love you too,” Taehyung whispers against his lips. “I love you so much, Jungkook.”

“Thirty seconds, Jeon. Tell your whore to get lost unless he wants to witness what’s about to
happen.”

Jungkook’s grip tighten on Taehyung’s waist. “Tae, you need to leave,” he says urgently. “You
need to get out of here now.”

But Taehyung shakes his head, not moving. “No.” And even as tears continue to spill from his
eyes, that fire is still there within them, burning bright. “Not without you.”

“Yes, without me,” Jungkook says, letting his hands fall from Taehyung’s face, gripping his wrists,
trying to get him to let go. “Get out of here. Please, Tae, I－”

“No.” Taehyung makes no move towards the door, still stands between Jungkook and SungWon.
“I’m not leaving, I’m not going to let them ki－”

And so Jungkook kisses him, tasting his mouth again, partly to try and get Taehyung to yield to
him but mostly because he wants to. Because he wants to be able to taste Taehyung on his lips in
his final moments.
“It’s going to be okay, my little tiger,” he says, pulling back from him again. “I promise.
Everything’s going to be okay.”

And it’s not a lie. Jungkook believes it. It will be okay because he’s somehow been lucky enough
to have Taehyung in his life, been able to love him even if it was only for a short time. He’ll
selfishly always wish for more time, more days, more months, more years, even if he had been able
to have a hundred years, a thousand of them, with Taehyung.

But it’s okay because this is still enough. It’s enough that he’s gotten to see Taehyung one last
time.

“Ten seconds,” SungWon says, sounding almost bored. “Nine…eight…”

“Tae, go!” Jungkook tries pushing him towards the door but Taehyung only holds onto him tighter,
refusing to let go.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Taehyung says fiercely. “I’m not leaving you.”

Over Taehyung’s shoulder, Jungkook can see SungWon and Yoongi standing side by side.
SungWon tilts his head, considering the two of them, his eyes narrowed.

“Actually,” he says slowly. “I wonder what would kill you more, Jeon.” And Jungkook hears that
single, devastating sound of the safety being switched off on the gun, the same sound he had heard
all those years ago when Jungkook’s father had pointed his gun at his head and Jungkook had
made his very first kill.

“No!”

A split second. It’s all he has to shove Taehyung out of the way, before the bullet exits SungWon’s
gun, headed straight for him, piercing pain blazing in his chest, throwing him backwards and he’s
falling, falling, falling, the fall is neverending but the bullet hit him and not Taehyung so he
doesn’t mind.

If this is his fate, Jungkook meets it willingly. And if this is his death, he’ll take a million more
bullets if it means that Taehyung gets to live.

There’s an explosion as Taehyung falls to the concrete floor with a bone-rattling thud and then
another one right after, an echo of the first one, plunging him into deafening silence. His ears ring,
disorienting him, and when he goes to sit up, he feels like the air has turned to thick mud, his body
sluggish and slow.

And then he sees Jungkook lying on the ground, mere feet away from him.

“Jungkook?”
He says Jungkook’s name but his voice sounds vague and far away, like the voice of a ghost. He
tries to stand but his legs are shaky and weak so he ends up crawling on his hands and knees across
the ice cold floor to where Jungkook is lying on his back, face turned up to the ceiling.

Blood. There’s blood blooming on his chest, staining his white shirt red, like the petals of some
sinister flower.

“No!”

Frantically, Taehyung presses his hands to Jungkook’s chest, trying to stop the flow, pressing down
so hard as if he’s trying to physically push the blood back into Jungkook’s body. Or there’s the
knife, he could cut himself open and give Jungkook his own blood, pour it into him, give him all of
it if it would keep him here.

“Tae…”

Taehyung’s head jerks up to see Jungkook looking up at him, his eyes half-lidded and dazed and
Taehyung can almost convince himself that Jungkook is just a bit tired, that he just needs to rest
and then he’ll feel better…

“L-love you…” Jungkook chokes out. “I love…”

Taehyung leans down, pressing his forehead against Jungkook’s. “Shh, don’t talk. It’s going to be
okay, everything’s going to be okay, I promise…”

But he doesn’t see how anything is going to be okay ever again because Jungkook is dying and
there’s nothing Taehyung can do to save him, his worst nightmare is coming true and the only
thing that would make it bearable would be to just die right beside him. So he doesn’t have to face
a world without Jungkook in it.

“Here.”

Taehyung glances up to see Yoongi kneeling beside them, ripping off his jacket and pressing it to
Jungkook’s chest, using it to soak up the blood.

“Yoongi, what－”

Then he looks behind Yoongi and sees Min SungWon lying dead on the floor, a bullet hole in his
head, brains and gore scattered around him.

The second explosion, right after the first. Yoongi had killed his father, shot him dead after
SungWon had shot Jungkook.

He doesn’t have time to make sense of it. But he does remember the words Yoongi had whispered
in his ear while he had been untying the ropes.

“Remember what I said about family.”

And yet, Jungkook was still lying on the floor, bleeding.

“Keep putting pressure on it,” Yoongi says, taking his hand away from Jungkook’s chest, and
Taehyung hastily puts his hand back. Yoongi fumbles for his phone, stabbing his fingers across the
screen and holding it to his ear.

“I need two ambulances down at the southern docks of the Han, I have two men seriously injured,
one has been shot in the chest, the other one has knife wounds to the arm…”

Taehyung stops listening after that. He just leans over Jungkook, holding the jacket to his bleeding
chest, pressing his lips to his cheek, whispering in his ear.

Don’t leave me…

Jungkook’s chest still rises and falls but his breathing is shallow. Too shallow.

Please…

Taehyung strokes Jungkook’s hair, his face, willing him not to close his eyes, trying to keep him
awake. Trying to keep him alive.

Don’t leave me…

“I love you,” Taehyung whispers. “Jungkook, I love you…”

A few agonizing minutes later, Taehyung hears the scream of sirens and then paramedics are
rushing into the building, separating them, forcing Taehyung to let go of Jungkook’s hand. A pair
of them hustle Taehyung towards an ambulance while another two paramedics carefully lift
Jungkook onto a stretcher, taking him to another ambulance, swinging the doors shut and speeding
away before Taehyung can say anything, that he wants to go with Jungkook too.

He babbles incoherently at them as they wrestle him into the back of the ambulance, start taking
out bandages, trying to wrap his arm.

“Does he need blood? Are we a match? I can give him a blood transfusion if he needs it, we can do
it as soon as we get to the hospital can’t we? Hello? Are you listening to me? I said I can－”

One of them plunges a needle into his arm and Taehyung has no time to react as shadows
immediately cloud his vision and he slips away into unconsciousness.

***

“Jungkook!”

Taehyung wakes up with a yell, although it comes out as more of a hollow rasping sound. His
mouth is desert dry, lips chapped, and his throat works, feeling as if he’s swallowing a mouthful of
dust. He coughs, looks around the room for a sign of Jungkook, a sign of anybody. But there’s only
stark white walls and beeping machines, a metal chair in one corner and the bed that he’s currently
lying on.

He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, ready to go hunting for Jungkook when the
door opens and someone comes in. In his disoriented state, it takes him a couple of seconds to
realize who it is.
“Jimin!”

“Tae! Oh, thank god!”

Jimin rushes over to him, throwing his arms around him, hugging him tightly. “When I first came
here, you were still asleep, the doctor said it would take a while for the sedative to wear off.”

Taehyung returns the hug, or tries to. When he goes to wrap his left arm around Jimin, pain lances
through his skin and he hisses, pulling away. He glances down at the thick white bandages
wrapped around his forearm, from his wrist all the way up to his elbow.

“There’s going to be some permanent scarring,” Jimin says sadly. “The doctor said－”

“I don’t give a fuck about that,” Taehyung says impatiently. “What about Jungkook, is he－”

“He’s alive,” Jimin reassures him and Taehyung nearly faints with relief.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, burying his face in his hands. “Jesus, I was so scared, I－” And then
his head jerks up as he realizes something. “Tannie! Oh my god, Tannie! He’s still at my
apartment! We need to－”

“Jin and Namjoon have gone to go get him,” Jimin soothes, sitting beside him on the bed and
rubbing his back. “They took the first train this morning, they should be back by late tonight. Jin
said he’d keep me posted.”

Taehyung nods, trying to swallow back the lump in his throat. It all floods back, what happened
that night, the bite of the knife and the sting of the salt, the pure terror he had felt seeing Jungkook
walk into the warehouse. Jungkook lying on the cold concrete floor, the blood from the bullet
wound sticky and hot on Taehyung’s hands…

It threatens to overwhelm him so he takes a deep breath, pushes it down to the depths of his mind.
“I want to see him. Which room is he in, where is he?”

“Tae,” Jimin says. “You just woke up, you need to take things slow, rest for a bit before－”

“Fuck that.” Taehyung says, getting to his feet. Or he tries to but he just ends up sitting back down
because his legs feel all shaky and weak. Fuck it. He’ll crawl to Jungkook if he has to.

But just as he’s going to make another attempt, the door opens－and Yoongi comes in, shoulders
slumped, dark circles underneath his eyes, looking completely exhausted.

“You.”

Rage surges through Taehyung, giving him the strength to stand and stride towards Yoongi, fully
intent on pummeling him to within an inch of his sorry life, for betraying Jungkook like that, for
allowing him to be nearly killed by that monster.

“You traitorous, fucking－”

But then he feels a hand on his wrist and Jimin is pulling him back and wrapping his arms around
Taehyung’s waist, stopping him. And, for someone so tiny, he displays a remarkable amount of
strength, holding Taehyung still even as he struggles against him.

“Jimin, let go!”

“Tae,” Jimin says, “I know you’re upset right now but－”

“Upset!” Taehyung yells. “Of course I’m fucking upset!” He points an accusatory finger at
Yoongi. “Your fucking boyfriend turned traitor and, thanks to him, Jungkook almost died!”

“It was part of the plan, Taehyung,” Yoongi says wearily, still standing by the door. “I only acted
like I was betraying Jungkook to get close to my father.”

“Oh really?” Taehyung snaps. “Then if that’s the case, why didn’t you just kill him when you had
the chance, huh? Why did you just stand there beside him and do nothing until your fucking piece
of shit father shot Jungkook?”

Yoongi gazes at him for a few seconds, his face unreadable. Then he looks away, muttering,
“That…wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Taehyung manages to shake off Jimin’s hold on him but he stays where he is, not
making any move towards Yoongi. Because as much as he wants to punch him in the face, he
wants to see Jungkook even more.

“I want to see him,” he repeats, glaring at Yoongi. “Where is he?”

Yoongi and Jimin exchange uneasy glances and Taehyung feels panic bubble up inside him again.

“What?” Taehyung looks back and forth between them even though neither of them seem to want
to meet his eye. “What is it? You said he was alive!”

“He is alive, Tae,” Jimin says softly. “He’s just not－awake.”

Anxiety pierces through him, more painful than the dull ache in his arm. “What is that supposed to
mean?”

“He’s still unconscious,” Yoongi answers. “Granted, it’s only been a day or so since they brought
him in and it sounds like they had to do some pretty intensive surgery on him. But the doctor said
he’s stable,” he adds hastily when he sees the look on Taehyung’s face. “She said with him being
young and in good shape, it’ll help him recover more quickly. And she said she’s confident that
he’s going to wake up at some point, it’s just…”

“What,” Taehyung whispers, his voice deathly quiet. “It’s just what?”

Yoongi’s face tightens, his throat bobbing as he swallows nervously. “They’re not sure when.
When he’ll wake up, I mean.”

Taehyung follows Yoongi down the hospital corridor, still feeling shaky and weak because he had
point-blank refused to eat something before going to see Jungkook, as Jimin had suggested. He had
only taken a few stolen minutes to relieve himself in the bathroom, drink a cup of water, and
change into the tee shirt and sweatpants that Jimin had brought him.
“I’ve already arranged it with the staff,” Yoongi says to him as they walk down the hallway. “So
you shouldn’t be kicked out of his room for any reason. If anyone does try to, just come find me.”

Taehyung nods vaguely, his anxiety increasing as they approach a door that has two men standing
outside of it, obviously guarding it. But then, as they get closer, he recognizes them.

“Seojoon? Bogum?”

“Taehyung-ssi!”

Bogum steps forward eagerly, looking as if he might tackle Taehyung to the ground in a giant bear
hug but Seojoon grabs the back of his jacket, holding him in place.

“Hey, kid,” Seojoon says, giving him a polite nod. “You okay?”

“I－”

“Oh my god, Taehyung ssi, we were so worried!” Bogum looks aghast at the bandages on
Taehyung’s arm, as if Taehyung is now an amputee. “We didn’t find out until after everything had
happened what that bastard did to you! If he was still alive, I’d take him out my－”

But then Bogum glances at Yoongi standing beside Taehyung and immediately clams up, looking
down and awkwardly scuffing his shoe on the linoleum floor.

“It’s fine,” Taehyung says, feeling he might start screaming at them if they don’t get out of his way
in the next five seconds. For as grateful as he is for their concern, he’s not the one they should be
worried about. He’s up, he’s walking around, totally fine except for a few knife wounds on his
arm, big fucking deal. It’s Jungkook who has been shot, nearly killed and is now lying comatose in
a hospital bed and Taehyung just wants to get past Bogum and Seojoon so he can see him, for
Christ’s sake.

He takes a deep, calming breath, attempting to keep his composure from slipping away. “Um, if
you guys don’t mind, I’d like to go in and see him now. So I can…”

But he trails off, not knowing how to finish his sentence. Make sure he’s alive? Yell at him for
coming to save me? Wake him up with true love’s kiss? Would that work?

Bogum and Seojoon exchange glances and then Seojoon steps aside, dipping his head in an
informal bow. “Go ahead, Taehyung ssi. If you need anything, just let us know.”

“Thanks, you guys.”

Taehyung moves past them, places his hand on the doorknob, and opens the door, being sure to
close it firmly behind him. There’s no doctor or nurse in the white, silent room. It’s just him and
Jungkook.

Taehyung cautiously approaches the bed where Jungkook is lying, eyes closed, soot-black lashes
stark against his pale skin. Too pale, Taehyung notes. As if he’s been drained of all vitality. The
flimsy hospital gown they’ve put him in seems too big for him, his muscular form practically
drowning in it, a total contrast to how well Jungkook had filled out his black designer suits.
Looking lithe and intimidating, like a panther. Now he just looks…small.

There’s no tube in his nose and he’s breathing on his own which Taehyung takes to be a good sign.
But there’s a tube in his arm, pumping in what Taehyung assumes are liquid nutrients from an IV
bag. His mother had had one of those too, when she could no longer stomach solid food.
Taehyung pulls up a chair beside Jungkook’s bed, sits down, and takes his hand in his own. He
notices Jungkook is still wearing the red and blue friendship bracelet Taehyung had bought him in
Hawaii and seeing it makes his eyes burn, his throat closing up tight. He heaves in a gulp of air,
trying to keep himself from freaking out, from falling apart completely. But it’s hard not to when
the man he loves is lying in a hospital bed, a gunshot wound to his chest.

And it’s all Taehyung’s fault.

“Now you listen to me, asshole.”

His voice is harsh and he glares at Jungkook, tightening his grip on his hand.

“Are you seriously going to lie there and let something like a bullet wound to the chest slow you
down? You’re Jeon Jungkook, for fuck’s sake. Leader of the Yong fucking Jegug, the most
powerful man in all of－”

I formally renounce my leadership of the Yong Jegug.

Taehyung stops, biting down hard on his lip. He hurriedly swipes at his eyes and goes on.

“What the fuck were you being so fucking stupid for anyway? Charging in to rescue me like
you’re some fucking knight out of a fairy tale and I’m a fucking damsel in distress. You should
have stayed away, I was fine, I had everything under c-control…”

Please. Please let him go.

The tears he’s been holding back overflow, streaming down his cheeks, and he lifts up Jungkook’s
hand, holding it against his face.

“God, I hate you for d-doing that. I hate you s-so fucking m-much.”

Tae…I love you…

Breath hitching, crying harder now, Taehyung stands and climbs into the hospital bed with
Jungkook, squeezing in beside him and laying his hand on his chest.

“I’ll stay with you,” Taehyung whispers. “I promise I’ll never leave you again, I was stupid for
doing it in the first place. But you have to promise to come back, okay? P-please come back to
me…”

He kisses Jungkook’s cheek, feels the slow steady beat of Jungkook’s heart against his hand.

“I love you.”
Jungkook sits on the patio of his family home, looking out at the back garden. It’s a bright, sunny
day and all his mother’s favorite flowers － the pink roses, the yellow daffodils, the white lilies －
dance along with the soft, cool breeze, waving cheerily at him.

It’s peaceful here, if a bit lonely. Jungkook feels as if he’d be content to sit here and look out at the
garden forever. There’s an ever-present warmth in his chest that soothes him, reminds him of
something familiar and good.

Something flickers in the back of his mind but then recedes, like a spark that fails to catch fire.

“It’s a beautiful day.”

He looks up, his mouth falling open in shock when he sees his mother coming out of the back door,
carrying a tea tray.

“Eoma?”

She smiles warmly at him, setting the tray on a little table before sitting down in the white wicker
chair right beside his. He catches a whiff of Chanel No.5, the only perfume she had ever worn and
the one smell he always associated with her. But…his mother is dead. He saw her body after she
had been shot in her bed by Min SungWon, held her cold hand in his as his world shattered to
pieces.

So how can she be here, dressed in her cherry blossom kimono, picking up her teacup and taking a
sip?

She glances over at him, nods at the tray. “Drink your tea, Jungkook, before it gets cold.”

Automatically, he picks up his own cup and brings it to his lips, not all that surprised to find that it
tastes sweet and floral. Peach-flower tea, his mother’s favorite.

He puts his cup down, looks around curiously. “Where’s dad?”

His mother sighs, puts her cup back down on the tray. “He’s not here,” she says softly, gazing out
at the colorful garden. “He’s…in another place.”

There’s a quiet sort of pain in his mother’s voice and that’s when it occurs to Jungkook that where
he is right now isn’t where he actually is.

It’s a bit of a mind trip.

He looks at his mother, sitting in that white wicker chair, her hands folded elegantly in her lap.
Looking exactly the way she did when she was still alive. The epitome of grace and calm.

“I failed you, eoma.” There’s a lump rising in his throat but he forces himself to speak around it.
“I failed you that night, I should have been there, I should have protected you from him － ”

“No, my darling.” She reaches over and takes his hand in hers, her eyes bright and glistening.
“You were exactly where you were supposed to be. If you had been there, he would have killed you
too. And that is one thing I could not stand to see. Ever since you were born, it was my greatest
fear. That I should see you dead before me.” She looks away, her lips pressed together and she
remains silent for a few moments before going on. “If anything, it was I who failed you.”
“What? No, eoma, you could never － ”

“Oh, but I did, Jungkook.” She looks back at him, a sad smile on her face. “I did. I failed to protect
you from your father. Countless times, I failed you. I knew the kind of life he wanted for you, the
person he wanted you to be. And in knowing that, I should have taken you and left. I should have
gotten you away from your father as far as I possibly could and raised you on my own. But…love
for your father blinded me. I couldn’t bear the thought of being apart from him.” Her smile fades,
a troubled look passing over her face. “And…deep down, I knew that he wouldn’t let me leave.
And certainly not with his only son.”

She goes quiet again and for a few minutes they both sit in silence, looking out at the garden,
watching as a fat bumblebee meanders around the flower petals. And Jungkook is glad that his
father isn’t here, disturbing this peaceful place with his looming presence. Hopes that wherever his
father is, he is in excruciating pain, that his entire body burns with it.

“Don’t be so hard on him, my love,” his mother murmurs. “There was good in him that got buried
underneath the life he was a part of. Just as it got buried in you. But it’s still there.” She squeezes
his hand. “I can feel it.”

Jungkook wants to argue with her but doesn’t know if he can. So instead he just shrugs, not saying
anything.

“Your Taehyung,” his mother says, “he’s something special.” She laughs softly. “A fighter, just
like you. I can see why you love him so much.” Her eyes crinkle at the corners even as she sighs a
little. “I would have liked to have met him, this boy who unearthed my son’s heart.”

Taehyung. The name pierces through him like a lightning bolt, igniting the spark that floated at the
back of his mind. Taehyung unyielding against SungWon’s torture. Taehyung screaming at him not
to come save him. Taehyung standing in front of him, shielding him with his body. Willing to die so
that Jungkook could live.

“I don’t deserve him, eoma,” Jungkook whispers. “I don’t deserve someone who loves me like
that.”

“Yes, you do,” she says gently. “Because you love him in exactly the same way. You are meant for
each other, my darling. It’s as simple as that.” She gazes at him, her expression stern now. “But
you know the kind of man you must be for him.”

Jungkook looks away, thinking of the kind of man his father had been to his mother. Loving and
affectionate, generous to a fault. Always looking at his mother like she was a goddess, like he
worshiped each and every part of her. But even with a love like that, it couldn’t dispel the specter
of fear that always haunted his mother’s eyes, made some of her smiles fixed, allowed most of her
words to go unspoken.

Because of the life his father led.

Jungkook looks back at his mother, taking her in, trying to memorize her face again. Because the
garden, the patio, his family home are already starting to fade away.

“I know what I have to do,” Jungkook says. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it, though, eoma.”
His throat tightens and he swallows thickly. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“I know,” she says, patting his hand. “But you must have faith in him, my love. Have faith in his
heart. And have faith in yourself too.”
Their surroundings have completely faded by now and it’s just him and his mother, suspended in
nothingness.

“I love you, eoma. And I miss you every day.”

“I love you too, Jungkook.” She smiles even as a tear trails down her cheek. “And I am so proud of
you.”

Something is tickling Jungkook’s nose and he frowns slightly, reaching up his hand to brush it
away－and finds himself feeling smooth, silky hair, the strands soft against his fingers. There’s a
solid warmth pressed to his side, a steady breathing that is in sync with his own.

He blinks, squinting at the harsh fluorescent lights overhead, coming more fully awake now.
There’s some kind of machine on his right side, beeping every few seconds in time with his heart.
And on his left side, snuggled right up against him, is Taehyung.

His head is resting on Jungkook’s shoulder, arm thrown across his chest, mouth slightly open as he
sleeps. There’s a little wet patch on Jungkook’s shoulder where Taehyung’s mouth is and
Jungkook can’t help but grin as the realization hits him.

“Tae,” he says hoarsely. “You’re drooling on me.”

“Mmm?” Taehyung stirs, rubbing his face against Jungkook’s shoulder, fingers curling into the
fabric of his shirt. Or rather, his hospital gown by the feel of it.

“I said you’re drooling on my shoulder, baby. It’s okay, though.” Jungkook sighs, reaching for
Taehyung’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “It’s cute.”

“I’ll show you cute,” Taehyung mutters sleepily, squeezing his hand. And then his head pops up
off Jungkook’s shoulder and he gapes at him in disbelief. “Oh my god!”

“I know.” Jungkook attempts to give him a cocky smile, even as he’s becoming aware of the dull
ache in his chest. “Usually I have you drooling for an entirely different reason when you’re in bed
with me.”

“You…you…” Taehyung looks confused for a second and then his gaze hardens. “You… asshole!”
He scrambles into a sitting position on the bed, glaring daggers at him. “You’ve been unconscious
for three fucking days, I’ve been worried sick about you, thinking you’re going to be in a coma for
fucking years on end and the first thing you do when you wake up is make a sex joke? Are you
fucking kidding me right now?” And then he bursts into tears.

The smile immediately vanishes from Jungkook’s face and he pulls Taehyung back down beside
him, wrapping his arms around him. “Shh…shh…I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry…that was stupid, I
know…”

“It wasn’t even f-funny,” Taehyung sobs, clinging to him. “If you’re going to make a joke when
you’re waking up after three days of being unconscious, for the love of god, at least make sure
it’s funny.”

“You’re right,” Jungkook murmurs, kissing his forehead. “I’ll think of a better one next time.”

Taehyung sniffles, letting out a quavery laugh. “You’re the worst.” He lifts his head up, running a
hand through Jungkook’s hair, beaming at him and the ache in Jungkook’s chest intensifies. “I’m
so glad you’re okay,” he whispers. “God, if anything had happened to you…”

He trails off, his smile fading and Jungkook gets a good look at Taehyung for the first time. He
looks completely exhausted; dark circles under his eyes, skin pale and wan looking, and he looks
way too thin underneath the oversized tee shirt and sweatpants he’s wearing, as if he hasn’t eaten in
days. And then Jungkook’s gaze falls on the bandages on Taehyung’s left arm, wrapped from wrist
to elbow.

His jaw clenches as he stares at the snowy white gauze, imagining the wounds underneath, the
scars that would serve as a permanent reminder of what SungWon had done to him. The knife, the
blood, the salt…Jungkook reaches out, gently placing a hand on Taehyung’s arm, thinking he
would’ve chosen to die ten times over if he could go back and spare Taehyung even a second of
pain.

“Hey,” Taehyung says softly and Jungkook looks up at him. “It’s just a couple of scratches. I’ll be
fine.” He smiles, touching Jungkook’s chest, right next to his heart. “It’s no bullet wound to the
chest, I’m sure.”

Jungkook shrugs, not saying anything, not trusting himself to speak. Because if he does, he’ll only
rage at the entire world for allowing there to be such a thing as torture and pain, for allowing there
to be such things that can bring harm to his Taehyung.

His brave, fierce little tiger.

“Are you thirsty?” Taehyung says suddenly, moving to stand up. “I should get you some water.
And I should go get the doctor too－”

“No, stay.” Jungkook says, pulling Taehyung down to lie beside him again. “Just…stay for a few
more minutes. I feel fine, a doctor can wait.” Now that Taehyung is here with him, alive and
relatively unharmed, Jungkook doesn’t want to let him out of his sight for even a second.

“Okay.” Taehyung snuggles close again, laying his head on Jungkook’s shoulder. They gaze at
each other for a long moment, Taehyung’s eyes roving over his face, seeming to take in every
detail. Jungkook does the same, his eyes going from the mole on Taehyung’s nose, to his long
lashes, to the curve of his lips. Making sure to memorize him.

“I thought I was going to lose you, Jungkook,” Taehyung whispers. “God, I was so scared.”

“Me too,” Jungkook whispers back. “I was afraid that I wouldn’t get the chance…wouldn’t get the
chance…” His throat burns and he heaves in a breath, tries again. “Wouldn’t get the chance to tell
you how much I love you.”

“I love you too,” Taehyung says, gently stroking his cheek. “More than anything.”

He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Jungkook’s lips and, even though Jungkook knows that it will
only make things harder, he pushes that thought aside, and kisses Taehyung back.
“So,” Yoongi says, standing next to his bed, hands shoved in his pockets, “how are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot in the fucking chest.” Jungkook rubs at the bandage, grimacing. “Fucking hurts.”

“What’s worse, being shot or being stabbed?”

Jungkook raises his eyes to the ceiling, considering the question. “Being stabbed, I think,” he says
after a few seconds. “I think the pain was more acute and the healing process was a fucking bitch.
At least with getting shot, I got to sleep for three days straight.”

Yoongi snorts. “Tae was right,” he mutters. “Your coma jokes are terrible.”

“I think they’re funny.”

“You would, numbnuts.”

Taehyung has reluctantly left Jungkook to go get his arm looked at again and his bandages
rewrapped so right now it’s just Jungkook and Yoongi, alone in the hospital room along with the
beeping machine and Jungkook’s IV bag.

“Seriously, though,” Yoongi says after a few seconds, “I’m surprised you lived through that. That
had to be one of the most idiotic plans we’ve ever come up with.” He laughs but there’s something
off about it and the entire time he’s been in the room, he hasn’t looked Jungkook in the eye once.

Jungkook observes his friend, thinking back to the warehouse, going in there believing Yoongi was
on his side, that they had a plan. Only to have Yoongi turn traitor at the last second, fail to act. And
yet Taehyung filled him in on what happened right after he had been shot－that Yoongi had been
the one to kill SungWon, that it had been him taking off his jacket and offering it to Taehyung to
help staunch the flow of blood from Jungkook’s chest, and it had been Yoongi who had called the
ambulance for both of them. So of course, it begged the question…who had Yoongi ultimately
betrayed? Yes, Min SungWon was dead by his own son’s hand but that didn’t really explain why
Yoongi had allowed his father to shoot Jungkook in the first place.

Lying in a hospital bed with several tubes sticking out of him, Jungkook wasn’t exactly in a
forgiving mood.

“What the fuck happened in there, Yoongi?” he asks. “What was going on in your head?”

Yoongi rests his hand on the guardrail of Jungkook’s bed, still not looking at him. “We said we
would wait until Taehyung was out of the warehouse before we did anything…you didn’t want him
to get caught in any crossfire…”

“Bullshit,” Jungkook growls. “I know that’s what we fucking said but you were standing right
beside him and I had been relieved of my weapon, thanks to you. So you could have taken the shot
but you just fucking stood there and Taehyung almost got fucking killed!” His heart monitor is
starting to beep more rapidly and he forces himself to take a deep breath before a nurse comes
along and tells him he needs to calm down. “I just want to know, in that moment, who’s side were
you on?”

Yoongi opens his mouth to speak but then closes it again, shaking his head. He grips the guardrail
with both hands now, his knuckles turning white.

“Yoongi－”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi says in a hushed voice. He finally raises his head to look at Jungkook, his
expression haunted, pure anguish in his eyes. “I went in there fully intending to execute our plan, to
take him out, I wasn’t planning on betraying you I swear, only to make it look like I was…but then,
I saw him and…”

Yoongi trails off, dropping his gaze and Jungkook shifts uncomfortably. He had asked his best
friend to murder his own father. Could he really expect Yoongi not to be conflicted about it?

“I thought I had the strength to do it,” Yoongi goes on. “I kept telling myself that he deserved it,
that he didn’t mean anything to me but seeing him for the first time in months…I don’t know, it
just hit me all of a sudden. He was never exactly Father of the Year, but he was the only one I had.
So when we stepped into the warehouse, I got…confused.”

Part of Jungkook wants to point out that it had been really shitty timing to have a crisis of
conscious but he keeps his mouth shut. Because another part of him, the biggest part of him, is
starting to feel guilty.

“When I was standing next to him, I truly thought I couldn’t go through with it. Murder my own
blood, you know? Especially since he was the only family I had left. But then…he shot you and I
saw you hit the floor and it was like my mind went blank. I thought he had actually killed you and
it was my fault. I don’t even remember making the decision to do it, I just raised the gun to his
head and pulled the trigger.” Yoongi’s mouth is curved downward, his shoulders slumped and in
that moment, he looks much older than he is. Old and tired.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi,” Jungkook says. “It was too much to ask of you. I should have－”

But Yoongi shakes his head, dismissing his words. “He may have been my father by blood,” he
says, “but you’re my brother by choice, Jungkook. That’s the way it’s always been.” He reaches
for Jungkook’s hand, giving it a brief squeeze before letting go. “I’d do it again if I had to.”

Jungkook nods, not knowing what to say and for a few minutes the two of them just sit there in
silence. A nurse comes by to check on Jungkook and Yoongi wanders away from the bed to look
out the window as she fusses over him, telling him that as soon as the doctor is available to give
him one last check up, he should be able to go home soon.

As soon as she leaves, Yoongi speaks again.

“I’m done, Jungkook,” he says dully, still staring out the window. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this
shit anymore. I’ve had enough. When I leave here, I’m taking Jimin and we’re getting out of
Seoul.”

In the past, Jungkook would have felt compelled to beat Yoongi into submission for even daring to
think about leaving the Yong Jegug. But he isn’t that kind of leader anymore. Doesn’t want to be.

“Fair enough,” Jungkook says. “I accept your resignation as my second-in-command. Have you
given any thought to where you and Jimin might go?”
“Not really.” Yoongi sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “But I’m open to suggestions.”

Jungkook considers him, a plan already forming in his mind. “I hear Busan’s nice.”

Yoongi looks over his shoulder at him, seeming surprised for a second. But then he nods, turning
to look out the window again.

And Jungkook knows he understands perfectly.

The last few hours at the hospital go by in a blur because the doctor insists on giving him a heavy
dose of drugs so Jungkook spends the car ride back to his penthouse doped up on painkillers.
Taehyung sits beside him in the back, holding his hand and he’s fairly certain Yeontan is there too,
judging by the sensation of a small wet tongue against his wrist. Or he could be imagining it.

In his drug-induced haze, he must have asked for a cheeseburger because he distinctly remembers
hearing Taehyung laughingly reply that a cheeseburger sounded good.

“We’ll go to that diner you took me to,” Taehyung whispers in his ear. “Maybe get a banana split
too. But we’ll have to get it to go, I don’t think you’re in any state to be eating in public right now.”

There’s a chuckle from the front seat and Jungkook thinks that Jin must be driving the car.
Although he can’t be 100 percent sure.

A couple more blips of memory and Jungkook is walking into his penthouse, leaning heavily on
Taehyung, who has his arm wrapped firmly around Jungkook’s waist. Another gap and he’s in the
bathtub with Taehyung, steamy and hot, bubbles hissing in the water, his hands stroking
Taehyung’s slippery smooth skin. But he’s still so loopy and out of it that he can’t really take
advantage of the situation and all he can do is moan in pleasure as Taehyung washes his hair.

“Feels good, huh?” Taehyung murmurs, planting kisses along his jaw. “It’s nice not to smell like
hospital anymore…”

“Mmm…”

The drugs pull him under again and when he wakes up, he’s in his bed, Taehyung fast asleep
beside him, a protective arm thrown over Jungkook’s chest. He blinks blearily at the clock on his
nightstand to see that it’s just after one in the morning, the room shadowed and hushed.

His mind feels less fuzzy now, and there’s a dull, pulsing ache in his chest which means that the
painkillers have worn off but at least his head is clear. Slowly, he turns onto his side, gazing at
Taehyung’s sleeping form beside him.

He had almost lost him.

That’s the thought that keeps swirling around in his brain. Because Jungkook was part of the
underworld, he had dragged Taehyung down with him, put him at risk. The bandage on his arm,
the scars on his neck left by Jwi Haechung the night of The Party. Collateral damage for being
involved with Jungkook, scars and mutilations, pain that he hadn’t asked for and didn’t deserve.
Just like his mother had been collateral damage that night, murdered in her bed for the crime of
being married to a mob leader. For loving a man in spite of there being so many reasons not to.
Even Jungkook doesn’t fully understand why his mother had loved his father the way that she did.
And he doesn’t fully understand why Taehyung should love him so much but he knows what he
has to do in order to be worthy of that love. Even if it’s hard, especially now that Taehyung is
sleeping beside him again, something that he had missed so much, his entire body had ached with
the want of it.

Tomorrow. He’ll find the courage to do it tomorrow. But he just wants to be selfish for one more
night.

He leans close to Taehyung, pressing his lips to his hair, his cheekbone, his eyelashes.

“Tae…baby…”

Taehyung stirs, eyelids fluttering open, giving Jungkook a sleepy smile. “Mm…hi…”

“Hi.” Jungkook can’t help but smile back and he leans in to press another kiss to the tip of
Taehyung’s nose.

Taehyung hums, a sound like a purr, and wriggles closer, pressing his face into Jungkook’s chest.
“Why’d you wake me up?” he mumbles. Then he pulls back, looking slightly alarmed. “Oh my
god, is it because you’re in pain? Do you need more painkillers, I can－”

“No, baby,” Jungkook says, brushing Taehyung’s hair back from his face. “I just wanted to tell you
that I love you.”

Taehyung snorts, a soft smile on his face. “You woke me up just to tell me that?” He reaches up,
his fingertips trailing along Jungkook’s jaw, caressing him. “I love you too,” he says softly. “And
you can feel free to wake me up whenever you need to tell me that. Or if you need to hear it. Wake
me up ten times throughout the night if you need to.”

Jungkook chuckles softly, turning his head to press his lips to Taehyung’s palm. “Maybe not ten
times. Maybe only five.”

“Every hour or so then,” Taehyung whispers, moving closer. “Wake me up with kisses…”

Their lips meet, not in a hasty hospital kiss or a bittersweet goodbye, but a long, slow exploration, a
proper reunion. Jungkook kisses Taehyung reverently, savoring the warmth of Taehyung’s mouth,
comforting and familiar as sunlight after a freezing cold winter.

“Missed you,” Taehyung murmurs, his fingers curling into Jungkook’s tee shirt, tugging him
closer. “God, I missed you so much…”

“Me too…every day…every hour…”

The shift happens then, warmth building to heat and Taehyung whimpers, hiking his leg up
Jungkook’s hip, hooking it around his waist. They grind together feverishly, desperate friction and
breathless kisses, pressed close in the dark and pain flares in Jungkook’s chest again but he ignores
it, too focused on pressing a line of kisses against Taehyung’s neck to care.

But a groan or the the tensing of his body must have given him away because suddenly Taehyung
is gently pushing on his shoulders and they break apart.
“W-wait,” Taehyung pants, his chest heaving. “The doctor said you’re not supposed to, ah, get up
to any…strenuous activity. Not for a few weeks, anyway.”

“Oh, what does a doctor know,” Jungkook grumbles. “I feel fine.”

“You would say that.” Taehyung lays his hand against Jungkook’s chest, right on top of where the
bandage is. “I just don’t want to do anything that would ruin your recovery process…”

“I know, baby.” He leans in, stealing another kiss. “We’ll go slow, take our time. If it gets too
much for either of us, we can stop.” What he doesn’t tell Taehyung is that he just wants this one
night, just one more night, before he has to remember who he is, and what he has to do. Instead he
moves close, whispering in his ear, “I want to make love to you, Tae…”

“Oh, god, Jungkook…”

They strip away their clothes, one layer at a time and as soon as Taehyung is completely naked,
Jungkook lays him down on the bed, worshiping every inch of him with his hands, his mouth.
Wanting to touch him, feel him everywhere, inhale the scent of his soft skin, map the lines of his
body with his lips. Commit Taehyung to memory just in case this is the last time.

Because it could be.

And Taehyung does the same to him, rolling him onto his back, straddling him with his thighs as
he places gentle kisses across Jungkook’s chest, his stomach, traces the lines of his dragon tattoo
with his tongue, makes Jungkook moan when he takes his cock into his mouth, sucking slow.

“Tae…come here…”

Jungkook sits up, leaning back against his headboard, holding Taehyung in his lap, losing himself
in the bliss of Taehyung’s body as Taehyung sinks down onto him, taking all of him, hips
undulating slowly, up and down, up and down. They kiss the entire time, the two of them focused
more on the brushing of their lips than where their bodies are connected and for Jungkook, there’s
no sense of time, of space, of anything else except Taehyung, his heated skin and sensual mouth,
the rhythm of them moving together.

It’s not enough, never will be. Still, Jungkook makes sure to hold onto this moment, hold onto
Taehyung, ignoring the pain in his chest and in his heart as he whispers ‘I love you’ to him in the
dark.

The next morning, Jungkook wakes up to a small ball of fur in his face, licking at his cheeks and
chin.

“Knock it off, Tannie,” he mutters. Still, he gives the tiny puppy a couple of pats before shooing
him away from his face, sitting up and frowning when he notices that Taehyung isn’t there. Panic
flares within him, only to dissipate a moment later when he becomes aware of the sounds coming
from the kitchen－footsteps, the fridge being opened and shut, what sounds like a pan being put on
the stove.

He slips on his tee shirt and sweatpants from last night, scoops Yeontan up in his arms and carries
him out of the bedroom, a new kind of panic rising inside him when he sees Taehyung standing by
the stove, his back to him, humming to himself.

Oh god, how am I going to be able to do this?

Taehyung glances over his shoulder, gives him a bright smile. “Good morning,” he says cheerfully.
“Have a seat, breakfast’s just about ready.”

Jungkook places Yeontan on the floor, watching him trot around the living area as he sits down at
the table, his stomach twisting with anxiety. More time, he needs more time－but if he keeps
telling himself that, he’ll never be able to do what he needs to do.

Taehyung bustles over to the table with two plates laden with freshly made pancakes, the stacks
dripping with syrup and butter.

“Tae,” Jungkook says as Taehyung sets a plate down in front of him. “You really didn’t have to－”

“Oh, hush.” Taehyung puts his own plate down and takes Jungkook’s face in his hands, giving him
a long, lingering kiss. “I wanted to.” He brushes a lock of hair back from Jungkook’s forehead,
beaming down at him. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel…fine.”

“Yeah? Not too sore?”

“No.”

“Good.” Taehyung sits down next to him, beginning to saw at his stack of pancakes with a fork
and knife. “Go on, eat,” he insists, nodding at Jungkook’s untouched plate. “You need your
strength if you’re going to make a full recovery.”

Jungkook picks up his knife and fork in a valiant attempt to pretend that everything is normal and
reluctantly takes a bite. And even though the pancakes taste good, it’s like trying to swallow glue;
Jungkook can barely get the first bite past the lump rising in his throat.

“Everything okay?”

Jungkook glances up to see Taehyung watching him closely and already he can see the stress in his
face, the worry clouding his eyes. It’s the exact same expression on his face that he had whenever
Jungkook had to leave to go take care of some mob business; the exact same expression his mother
always wore whenever his father walked out the door. A sheer veil of calm thrown over a mounting
storm of distress.

Jungkook manages to swallow and he nods, forcing a smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just a bit
tired, I guess.”

“Oh.” Taehyung looks down, biting his lip. “Maybe we shouldn’t have…you know…last night.
You don’t have to eat with me if you’re tired, you can go back to bed if you want－”
“No, Tae, that’s not it, I promise. It’s just…” But he can’t get the words out. Not when Taehyung
looks back up at him, a strained smile on his face, a smile that does nothing to hide how anxious
he looks.

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says softly. “I’m worrying too much. It’s just, it’s my fault that you got hurt
so－”

“How the fuck is it your fault?”

Jungkook hadn’t meant to sound so harsh. But something snapped inside him, hearing Taehyung’s
words, hearing him blame himself for what happened.

Taehyung blinks at him, looking startled. “B-because I left,” he stammers. “I went to Busan and I
was out wandering around by myself all the time like an idiot, not even thinking that someone
might be following me. If I had just stayed…” he trails off, his gaze dropping to Jungkook’s chest.
“If I had stayed none of this would have h-happened and you wouldn’t have gotten－”

Jungkook seizes Taehyung’s hand, leaning close and gazing intently into his face. “Tae, I want you
to listen to me,” he says fiercely. “None of this is your fault. Okay? You are not responsible for the
actions of other people. Ever. You did not put that gun in SungWon’s hand and you did not pull the
trigger.”

Taehyung is staring at him with wide, bright eyes, his bottom lip beginning to tremble. “B-but－”

“No buts.” Jungkook brings Taehyung’s hand up to his lips, presses a firm kiss to his skin. “I won’t
let you blame yourself, Tae.” His voice drops to a whisper, his hand coming up to cup Taehyung’s
cheek. “You stood in front of me. You refused to leave, even when I asked you to. No, you stayed,
stubborn as ever, right in the path of that gun. For me. You did that for me.” A tear slips down
Taehyung’s cheek and Jungkook feels a tremor in his chest seeing the pain in Taehyung’s eyes. “I
never dreamed that anyone could ever love me like that.”

Or that I could ever love anyone the same way.

Taehyung drops his gaze, gently tugging his hand out of Jungkook’s grip. “I do love you,” he says
softly. “That’s why I should have stayed.”

Jungkook lets his hand fall away from Taehyung’s face, staring at him. And he can tell, by the
slump of Taehyung’s shoulders, the utterly miserable look on his face, that Taehyung will still
blame himself for what happened, no matter what Jungkook tells him. Right before his eyes, he can
see the fire of Taehyung’s spirit growing dimmer and dimmer and if he doesn’t act soon, it’ll go
out completely. And he refuses to let that happen.

Taehyung swipes at his face, sniffling a little. “Jin said he and Namjoon secured my apartment in
Busan when they went to get Yeontan,” he says, looking up at Jungkook again. He smiles but it’s
all wrong, too forced, his eyes not crinkling up like they usually do. “I’ll wait until you’re feeling a
bit better before I go get my stuff and bring it back here, maybe if you’re feeling up to it, you can
come with me－”

Jungkook grits his teeth and shakes his head. “No.”

“No?” Taehyung frowns slightly, looking confused. “No, you don’t want to come with me? Well,
of course you don’t have to－”

“No, Tae, that’s not what I meant.” Nearly every voice in his head is screaming at him to shut up,
to not do this. Every voice, except for one. And that’s the one he listens to. “You’re not coming
back here to live with me. You’re going back to Busan and you’re going to stay there.”

Taehyung stares at him, hurt and disbelief written across his face and Jungkook has to clench his
hands into fists to stop himself from reaching for him. “B-but I thought…after last night…”

“Last night was incredible, Tae,” Jungkook says, shame burning through him. Because Taehyung
probably feels like Jungkook was just using him all over again. For the final time. “But I don’t
want you living here with me. Not anymore.”

He hates himself. God, he just hates himself so much right now.

With a strangled sob, Taehyung pushes away from the table, getting to his feet. “What the fuck is
this?” he says, voice choked with tears. “Is this your way of punishing me for leaving? Because if
it is, I’m sorry, okay? I wish I hadn’t－”

“Tae, listen to me.” Jungkook gets up from the table, going over to him and placing his hands on
Taehyung’s shoulders. “I promise, I’m not punishing you for leaving. That’s not why I’m doing
this, it’s because－”

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung sobs, tears beading on his lashes, spilling down his face. “I’m so sorry I left
you, Jungkook, I should never have done that, please let me stay here with you.”

And to Jungkook’s sheer horror, Taehyung gets down on his knees in front of him, looking up at
him, clutching at the hem of his tee shirt as he cries. “I’ll do anything you want,” he says
desperately. “I’ll do everything you say, I’ll take care of you, I promise, just please－”

Jungkook’s heart just about shatters to a million little pieces, seeing Taehyung like this, his fierce
little tiger reduced to a pleading sobbing mess. And to think that this is exactly what he had
wanted, once upon a time－an obedient, servile Taehyung who was willing to cater to his every
whim and desire.

But, oh, that fire. He can see it, feel it dying. And he’ll be damned if he’s the cause of it.

“Baby, no,” Jungkook whispers, sinking to his knees in front of Taehyung so that they’re facing
each other. “Please don’t cry. I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“But I don’t understand.” Taehyung hiccups, reaching for Jungkook’s hands, lacing their fingers
together. “We were apart and it h-hurt so much, I wanted to come back so badly! And then you
almost got k-killed but we’re together now and I want to be here with you but you just want me to
leave?”

“No,” Jungkook says, shaking his head. “Tae, I want you to stay with me. I want it so much that
it’s almost impossible to imagine letting you go again. But it was being with me that put you in
danger in the first place.” He glances down at the bandage still wrapped around Taehyung’s arm,
the thought of the permanent scars underneath making him sick to his stomach. “I can’t keep you
here. Not while I’m part of this life. It’s too dangerous.”

“But it was because I was away from you, SungWon was able to get to me! If I hadn’t left, if I had
stayed, none of this would have happened.” He gives Jungkook a quavery smile, laughing a little.
“So there. I’m staying.”

And he truly does look triumphant as if he and Jungkook are in the middle of a chess tournament
and Taehyung has just declared ‘checkmate.’ But as much as he would like to be persuaded
otherwise and have Taehyung stay with him, he’s made up his mind already. No going back.
“Tae, as long as you stay here, you’re going to be targeted. People are going to try and use you to
get to me, just like SungWon did. And I’m not going to let that happen, not ever again.” He places
a gentle hand on the bandage on Taehyung’s arm. “Not when I know that you’d rather face torture,
you’d rather be fucking killed than give me up. But I’m not going to let you do that. Because guess
what? Seeing you killed would kill me.”

I wonder what would kill you more…

“So you’re going to go back to Busan,” Jungkook continues, forcing himself to keep his voice
calm. “You’re going to stay there and cut off all communication with me. Or go wherever you
want, anywhere in the world. But not here in Seoul. Not with me.”

“But－”

“Yoongi is going to be moving to Busan with Jimin,” Jungkook says firmly, overriding him. “He’s
promised me that he’ll watch out for you while he’s there.”

Taehyung shakes his head, staring at him in disbelief. Then his face crumples and he throws his
arms around Jungkook, clinging to him. “I won’t leave,” he says stubbornly. “You can’t make me!”

“I would never dream of making you do anything, Tae,” Jungkook says, smiling a little as his arms
come up to wrap around Taehyung’s waist, holding him close. “I know you won’t listen. But,
baby,” he goes on, pulling back to look into Taehyung’s tear-stained face, “do you know what will
happen if you stay here?”

Taehyung looks at him, wide-eyed and shakes his head.

Jungkook reaches up and wipes an errant tear off Taehyung’s bottom lip. “I’ll lock you up,” he
says softly. “I’ll never let you leave, never let you go anywhere or do anything, ever again.
Because I know myself, Tae. I know I’d think I was doing it out of love, but I’d really be doing it
out of fear. Fear of…losing you. Just like I did before. And－”

“So lock me up,” Taehyung says fervently, placing his own hand on Jungkook’s, holding it to his
cheek. “I don’t care, I’ll stay here if you want me to, I won’t ever complain, I’ll－”

“No,” Jungkook says, feeling his eyes start to sting as he brings his other hand up, cupping
Taehyung’s face. “You don’t deserve to be locked in a cage, my little tiger.”

“J-Jungkook, please－”

“You were willing to die for me, Tae.” Jungkook takes a deep shuddering breath, feeling as if his
heart is being ripped in half. “Be willing to live for me, too.”

“I want to stay, Jungkook,” Taehyung says softly, his eyes pleading. “I want to stay here with you.”

“And I want you to have your freedom,” Jungkook replies, and even though he’s been doing his
best to hold them back, the tears come anyway. “And you c-can’t have that with m-me.”

“Well, then I don't want it!" Taehyung sobs. "I want to be with you, Jungkook, I don't care if I
can't--"

“Tae, I care.” He takes Taehyung’s hands in his again, kissing his knuckles. “I want you to have it.
I want you to p-paint with your beautiful h-hands.” He presses a hand to Taehyung’s chest, feeling
the rapid thump of his heartbeat. “And I want you to l-love with your beautiful h-heart. I want you
free and h-happy and alive. Even if it means that you’re not w-with me.”
 There’s so much more he wants to say but he’s unable to because when Taehyung falls forward
and sobs against his chest, he knows that Taehyung won’t stay. This really is goodbye.

They remain on the floor, holding onto each other for god knows how long. When Jungkook feels
like he’s capable of speaking again, he whispers in Taehyung’s ear, “I’m going to get out, Tae.
Every single day, I’m going to fight my way out of here. For you. And then, if you still want me,
I’ll come find you.”

“And I’ll wait every day for you. No matter how long it takes,” Taehyung says, turning to him, lips
seeking his. “I promise.”

They seal their promises the best way they know how to, with one last long lingering kiss. And
then Taehyung gets to his feet, walking over to Yeontan and picking him up from the floor.

And then he leaves and all Jungkook can do is watch him walk away. Kneeling there in the middle
of his penthouse, staring at the door long after Taehyung has closed it behind him.

Chapter End Notes

I know, I know, I'm always separating them...one more chapter to go! And no it won't
be another couple of months before I post it, it is already written and I just need to edit
it. :) Again, I really appreciate everyone's patience with me, life's been a little hectic
for me lately <3

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 Chapter 16
Chapter Summary

Paradise found...

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

It takes Jungkook just over a year and half to extract himself from the Yong Jegug.

Not as long as he thought it was going to take but still much longer than he would have preferred
because every day spent as the leader of Seoul’s most powerful mob is another day spent away
from Taehyung. Not seeing him, not being with him, not even talking to him. They’ve both taken
the cutting off of all communication seriously, no phone calls, no emails, not even an occasional
text message. It’s better this way, keeps Taehyung safe. He gets a periodic update from Yoongi
every few months, that Taehyung is still living in Busan, just that, no other details.

It’s all he needs to know, that Taehyung is alive. That’s the most important thing to him.

Only a few weeks after Jungkook had sent Taehyung away, he found out that it was Baek Hyeon
who had sold him out to Min SungWon, played both sides to see which one would give him the
sweeter deal. Knowing another leader was partly responsible for nearly getting Taehyung killed
presented a bit of a dilemma for Jungkook－to kill or not to kill?

On the one hand, killing Baek would satisfy his need to hunt down anyone who had ever caused
harm to Taehyung and scorch them to ash. On the other hand, taking down a leader could embroil
him in a gang war, keep him in the underworld for that much longer, even cost him his life. It
wouldn’t be like wiping that shitstain Jwi Haechung off the face of the earth; Baek was a proper
mob boss with numerous connections and soldiers, someone whose death would have severe
consequences.

After laying on his couch and losing sleep over it for a solid week, he decided to consult Nam
Kang-Dae, his father’s trusted friend.

“Hmm…tricky,” the old man said, leaning back in his chair and stroking his bushy grey beard
when Jungkook met him in his office. “Very tricky. Baek most certainly acted out of line when he
betrayed you and retribution wouldn’t entirely be uncalled for…however, it could lead to a messy
war and frankly, I am getting too old for that kind of thing.” He sighed, tapping his fingers on his
desk, considering Jungkook with solemn eyes. But then they lit up with a glint of humor. “Perhaps
we should be patient. Maybe in a few years or so, Baek will find himself in Imugi territory and be
met with an unfortunate accident.”

Jungkook nodded, holding back a smirk. “It would be a shame if Baek unexpectedly found himself
in the path of a runaway truck or something. However, accidents do happen.”

“Indeed they do.”

Jungkook got up to leave, giving Nam Kang-Dae a respectful bow. “Thank you for your council,
Nam Kang-Dae nim. I am in your debt.”

Nam Kang-Dae waved a dismissive hand, grinning at him. “Think nothing of it, my boy. When
you’ve been in this business as long as I have, you know how to play the long game.”

Jungkook respected the old man’s advice and left Baek alone. Being patient and playing the long
game was something he was only just learning how to do. But it was easier now seeing as he
viewed every decision through the filter of ‘Is this going to get me closer to Taehyung?’ And
wasting time on violent retribution and gang wars would only put Taehyung even further out of
reach.

He was a gang leader who had taken a vow of non-violence. The irony was not lost on him and he
wondered if he should seriously consider becoming a monk. Because violence wasn’t the only
thing he was abstaining from.

For the first time in the nearly twelve years since he had had his virginity taken from him,
Jungkook gave up sex. Taehyung was the only person he wanted to have it with anyway and since
Taehyung was living in Busan, it was celibacy all the way. It wasn’t even a hard decision to make;
he had zero interest in going to bed with anyone else and when he did feel those urges from time to
time, he got himself off with his hand, alone in his penthouse with nothing but the memory of
Taehyung wrapped around him in his mind, Taehyung’s name on his lips as he came. Afterwards,
he always felt lonely and depressed, circling the blue and red friendship bracelet around his wrist,
running his thumb over the threads. Wondering if Taehyung still wore his. Or if he had taken it off
because he had met someone else and didn’t want to be reminded of Jungkook anymore.

But no matter how lonely he felt, no matter how dark his thoughts became, Jungkook never sought
out anyone else, even for some temporary relief. There was no one else for him. Only Taehyung.

The only reason he went to the Bird Cage was to negotiate with Hobi, buy him out so he could shut
the place down. Which took fucking forever.

Two fucking months just to get Hobi to agree to his proposal. At first, he adamantly refused,
looking scandalized at the thought of selling his precious brothel, looking at Jungkook like he was
asking Hobi to amputate one of his legs. Or his dick, more like. But after going there every week,
armed with threats, bribes, and a switchblade just in case, Jungkook eventually managed to
persuade Hobi to sell the controlling share to him so he had full ownership.

And then it took another two fucking months to agree on a price.

At first Jungkook balked at the exorbitant amount Hobi was asking for, their meetings devolving
into shouting matches and, one time, a fistfight. So much for non violence but at least no knives
came into play, even though Jungkook knew Hobi wore at least two somewhere on him at all
times. So it was a sign that Hobi still saw him as a friend at least.

Afterwards, when they had declared a draw and righted some chairs and tables that had got
knocked down during their fight, they had sat down again, Hobi bringing out a bottle of Dalmore
scotch for them to share.

"I’m not backing down on my price, JK,” Hobi had said, swiping at the blood still trickling out of
his nose. “Take it or leave it.”

It was pure extortion but all Jungkook had to do was remember why he was doing it in the first
place－so that no other young man or woman would be brought here, lured by promises of riches,
only to find themselves locked in a cage, exploited and abused. Just like Taehyung had been.
There were other underworld brothels of course; Jungkook couldn’t shut down all of them. But he
could shut down this one and give Hobi’s ‘birds’ a fresh start. On top of the fee he payed to Hobi,
he made sure to pay each employee of the Cage a generous severance package, give them a chance
at a new life. Some, like Jinx, were too far gone to dig their way out of the underworld, too fucked
up by drugs or abusive men or both. But most of them received the money and the news that they
would no longer have to work at the Bird Cage with a new light in their eyes. They talked of
college, travelling the world, maybe even seeing their families again. Jasmine confided in him that
she had always wanted to travel to Europe, maybe study at one of those old universities that had
been around for centuries. As she talked, her voice contained a certain note of invitation and before
she could confide anything else, Jungkook wished her well and sent her on her way.

There were some grumblings from the other gang leaders about the Cage being shut down but
Jungkook just cited ‘business reasons’ and told them all to go to the other brothels to buy some sex,
there were plenty of whores left in Seoul.

That word always stuck in his mouth now whenever he uttered it but until he left for good, he still
had to maintain a certain ruthless persona. Even if the facade was hard to keep up sometimes.

Once the Bird Cage was shut down and Hobi had absconded to the other side of the world with his
money (“I’m going to the Caribbean!”), Jungkook turned to the tasks remaining to him: getting the
men in his inner circle out of the gang world, safely and discreetly, and then getting himself out.

Which turned out to be harder than he anticipated because they all decided to be stubborn about it.

“We’re not leaving, boss,” Jin told him during the meeting when Jungkook announced that he
would be breaking up the inner circle and sending them out of Seoul. “You need us here.”

“Jin’s right,” Namjoon said, nodding in agreement, even as he cast a sidelong look at Jin,
expression uncertain. “We’re loyal to you and we’re here until the end. You can’t send us away.”

“Who’s going to look after your finances?” Bogum whined. “Especially after the whole Bird Cage
thing, I don’t know what you were thinking, boss…”

Seojoon just heaved a sigh and looked away, not saying anything.

“Hey!” Jungkook snapped at them, making Bogum jump. “Who’s the fucking leader here? Last
time I checked it was still me so I get to decide if I’m no longer in need of your services.” He
straightened his shoulders, glaring around at them all. “I’ll get things all sorted out for you guys so
take care of anything you need to take care of and decide where you want to go. Preferably
somewhere outside Korea.”

They didn’t argue with him after that.

So it was another few months of negotiations and shady deals, this time with the feds, who were
more corrupt and dangerous than any gang leader, in Jungkook’s opinion. Buying full pardons for
all of his men, for all of the criminal activity they had taken part in over the years, was not cheap
and by the end of it, the Yong Jegug was hemorrhaging money. Not that they were in danger of
running out of it anytime soon and Jungkook had plenty of cash stored away in offshore accounts,
more than enough for his upcoming retirement. And more than enough for two people to live on,
for decades to come. He made sure of that.

When the pardons for his men had finally been secured, along with passports and new identities,
he met with each one of them separately to iron out the final details and say his goodbyes.
Bogum had decided on Japan (“land of anime!”) and was going to keep a low profile as a clerk in a
manga store in Tokyo or Osaka.

"It won’t be very glamorous,” he sighed, “but I like the thought of getting to talk about my favorite
animes all day, even catch up on all the shows I’ve been meaning to watch.”

“That…sounds nice, Bogum.”

“Thanks, boss.” When he had gotten up to leave, he had turned at the door, his eyes round and
puppy-like. “I hope, after all this is over and you leave too…well, I hope you find Taehyung ssi
okay.”

Jungkook nodded at him, forcing a smile. “Thanks, Bogum. I hope so too.”

“And if you get married, you’ll invite me to the wedding, right?”

Jungkook opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again, looking down at the friendship
bracelet tied around his wrist. “Yes, Bogum,” he said after a few long seconds, touching the red
and blue threads. “If we get married, you’ll be invited to the wedding.”

“Thanks, boss!”

Jungkook said goodbye to Namjoon and Jin at the same time because they were moving to Canada
together, planned to open up a small restaurant.

“Or a bakery,” Jin said to him. “But I’ll be the one taking care of the food.” He took Namjoon’s
hand in his, grinning widely at him. “You can be the one running the front of the shop.”

“Oh come on,” Namjoon said, rolling his eyes even as a small smile tugged at the corner of his
mouth. “I can cook.”

“You can barely chop an onion,” Jin retorted. “But it’s okay, I still love you.”

Jungkook stared at where their hands were joined on the table, a small drop of envy poisoning the
moment. Not envy really, but longing. Longing for what they had together now. Longing for what
he had lost and wasn’t sure he’d be able to get back again.

When Jin caught him looking, he forced another smile. “Whatever you decide to do, I’m sure it’ll
be a success,” he said. “Your homemade kimchi stew will be a blessing to all Canadians, I’m sure.”

“Thanks, boss.”

Just before they left, Jin completely caught Jungkook off guard by pulling him into a brotherly
hug. “Don’t worry, JK,” he whispered. “Taehyung ssi won’t give up on you. I know he wouldn’t
do that.”

After a few stunned seconds, Jungkook returned the hug, patting Jin on the back. “Thanks, hyung,”
he whispered back. He didn’t trust himself to say anything more than that.

When it came time to meet with Seojoon, Jungkook was in for another surprise when Seojoon told
him that he wouldn’t be leaving; he was staying in Seoul.

“I went through the trouble of buying you a full pardon, Seojoon,” Jungkook said through gritted
teeth. “This would have been nice to know before I did that.”

“Oh, I’ll still take the pardon, boss, should I ever need it.” Seojoon said casually. “But my home is
here in Seoul and I don’t fancy leaving. Besides,” he continued, examining his solid gold cuff
links, “working for the mob has proven to be quite lucrative and I’m not so sure I want to give that
up anytime soon.” He smiled at Jungkook, a touch of sharpness to it. “And I’m a lawyer. We’re all
criminals anyway, even the ‘legitimate’ ones.”

“True,” Jungkook said, smirking. “But you still won’t be working for me anymore, my friend. How
do you feel about working for someone like Nam Kang-Dae? He could always use another lawyer
to keep him out of trouble.”

Seojoon rubbed a hand along his jaw, considering. “Hmm…the old timer can be a little bit
irritating at times but he’s a good man. I take it you’ll be able to put in a good word for me?”

“Consider it done,” Jungkook said. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem fitting in with the Imugi mob.
They’re MO is a lot like ours.”

“Cunning yet stylish,” Seojoon said, adjusting his tie with a cocky smile. “Yes, I’m sure we’ll get
along famously,” and Jungkook laughed.

But when Jungkook saw Seojoon to the door, he turned serious again.

“Look, boss,” Seojoon said, giving him a solemn look. “I know why you’re doing all of this,
cutting ties, sending us away. So I’ll keep my distance from you. But just know that if you do ever
find yourself in legal trouble, wherever you are, you can always call on me. My loyalty to you
doesn’t end just because I no longer work for you.”

Jungkook blinked at him, shocked by such an uncharacteristic display of sincerity. Jesus, were all
of his men going to get mushy on him at the very last second? “Thanks, Seojoon,” he said, trying
to sound indifferent. He stuck out his hand for a friendly but firm handshake. “Means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.” Seojoon shook his hand, giving him one final smile. “And if I do ever see you
again, I hope it’s with Taehyung beside you.” He winked. “I’ll be happy to draw up a marriage
contract. And I can always serve as your officiant if you need one.”

"Yeah?” Jungkook couldn’t help but smile back. “You might have to fight Jin or Bogum over it. Or
possibly both.”

Seojoon snorted. “Yeah, right. Jin might provide a challenge but I could take Bogum out any day.
And he knows it.”

And then he left and Jungkook was truly alone. The only thing left for him to do was die.

Not literally, of course. But he had wrestled with the problem of how to make a clean break, get
away from the Yong Jegug permanently and the only way to do that was to－

“Fake your own death?” Nam Kang-Dae stared at him from across his solid oak executive desk.
“You really think such an, er, extreme solution is called for?”

“Yes, I think so,” Jungkook said calmly, sitting in one of Kang-Dae’s stiff antique chairs.
“Especially considering I’ll be transferring the leadership of the Yong Jegug over to you. All of its
territory, its connections, its assets…”

Nam Kang-Dae’s eyes went wide in his bearded face. “My boy,” he said in an awed voice. “Are
you…are you sure?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said. “I’m getting out, Kang-Dae nim. And there’s no other leader I trust to give
everything to. You’re welcome to take on the name of the Yong Jegug for yourself or put
everything under the Imugi name.” He shrugged. “After all, we do have very similar emblems. All
I ask is that you help me stage the whole thing, do it properly so people will really think I’m gone.”

Nam Kang-Dae gaped at him. “But…but if I’m involved in staging faking your death, people will
think I killed you.”

“So let them think that,” Jungkook replied. “It’ll only make them fear you even more.”

“Hmm…” Nam Kang-Dae drummed his fingers on his desktop, giving him a shrewd look. “Well,
your father would be disappointed,” he said, heaving a sigh. “But…your mother would be
immensely proud of you, I think.”

Jungkook went very still, unsure of what to say to that. So he just nodded.

“She was a good woman, Jeon Nami,” Nam Kang-Dae went on. “Her death was a great tragedy for
us all, but most of all for you, Jungkook. I know that. I believe it was her sincerest, most desperate
wish to see you get out of this life.” He inclined his head in a small bow. “You honor her by
making this choice.”

Jungkook bowed back, his throat tight. “My thanks, Nam Kang-Dae nim. For everything you’ve
done for me.”

“Don’t thank me yet, my boy,” Nam Kang-Dae chuckled. “I still haven’t fulfilled my promise of
ending your life.”

So he had to spend a few more months on more arrangements, more planning and even more
money spent on a full pardon for himself, the feds getting really greedy and making him pay more
than he had for all of the other members of his inner circle combined. But, all things considered, it
was a small price to pay for his freedom, his peace of mind. Knowing that his criminal past
wouldn’t follow him out of Seoul, that he was free to start over was worth so much more to him
than money.

Then came the night of his death, a nice bit of theater staged on the docks with Nam Kang-Dae and
some of their soldiers stationed around, some from the Yong Jegug and some from the Imugi
orginization, some in on it and some not, so there would be credible witnesses to the fall of Jeon
Jungkook.

An argument over a drug shipment, a deal gone wrong and Jungkook found himself standing on the
edge of the dock, his back to the Han river, Nam Kang-Dae pointing a pistol at him, shouting about
betrayal and dishonor. The gun went off, bullet going wide and Jungkook threw himself backwards
into the water, apparently shot.

God, the water was freezing.

It pierced into him like a thousand knives, and even if he had been shot dead, he was sure the pain
of it would have shocked him back to life. He stayed underwater for as long as possible, swimming
away from the docks until he finally had to go up to the surface for air, heaving in lungfuls of
oxygen as if he was breathing for the first time in his life. He set out again, swimming for the boat
that was supposed to be there, trying to keep the splashing of his limbs to a minimum. After a few
minutes of swimming he still couldn’t see any sign of a fucking boat and he began to panic,
thinking maybe Nam Kang-Dae had decided to kill him for real, let him drown in the river as extra
insurance that Jungkook would never come back to Seoul and try to reclaim what he had given
away.
But then he heard the soft putter of a motor and turned in the water to see a small boat headed his
way, a dim searchlight picking him out in the darkness. Then it was stopping beside him and he
swam to it, using his last bit of strength before a hand was reaching for him, pulling him up and
dragging him into the boat where he collapsed on the floor, out of breath.

“Jesus, you must be cold,” a light voice said from above him, and Jungkook opened his eyes to see
Nam Minji, one of Nam Kang-Dae’s granddaughters. “Here, I made sure to bring you a change of
clothes.”

After changing out of his water-logged suit and into some dry clothes, Minji threw a blanket over
him and steered the boat to a dock on the other side of the river where a car was waiting for him to
take him to the airport.

Once on Nam Kang-Dae’s small private plane, Jungkook passed right out in his seat, completely
exhausted. Only to be shaken awake by Minji just over an hour later. “We’ve landed,” she said. “I
know you’re tired but we have to take off again right away. This flight isn’t exactly on the record,
so to speak.”

“Right,” Jungkook said, getting to his feet. “Thanks, Minji. And pass my thanks on to your
grandfather.”

“I will.”

He had landed in Japan to take care of one more thing, cut off the last remaining thread tying him
to the Yong Jegug: the dragon tattoo snaking around his arm, branding him as a gang member. If
he was going to be living in Hawaii, it was likely no one would make the connection but he still
didn’t want to take any chances. And besides, he didn’t want it anymore. Didn’t want such a
glaring reminder of past sins.

He traveled to the city of Yokohama where he’d been told an ancient tattoo artist lived, specializing
in traditional Japanese techniques, his colors so vivid, his lines so sharp that people whispered of
the tattoos actually moving, the eyes of the oni seeming to follow you, dragons and foxes rippling
over the skin.

It sounded like the stuff of fairy tales and Jungkook wondered if the man even existed but when he
found the tattoo parlour in a tiny shop down a twisting back alley, the old man turned out to be real,
glaring at Jungkook with rheumy eyes when he walked in the door, gnarled hands busy with mixing
some red ink.

“Sit down over there,” he barked in Japanese, jerking his chin at a chair near the door. “You’ll
have to wait until I’m finished.”

So Jungkook sat and waited, a good half an hour before the old man put down his inks and shuffled
over to him.

“What do you want?” the old man said curtly, looking at Jungkook like he was some annoying
pest, and not a potential customer.

Jungkook stood up and rolled up his sleeve, showing him the lower half of his dragon tattoo. “I
want this covered up,” Jungkook said in halting Japanese. “You can do that, right?”

“Of course I can!” the old man snapped. “I’ve only been doing this for fifty years! It’ll cost you
though…”

“That’s fine,” Jungkook said. “Whatever it is, I’m willing to pay it.”
The old man seized Jungkook’s wrist and brought him closer, peering down at the ink on his arm.
“Hmm…” he said, clicking his tongue. “Not bad work…although some of the scales are uneven…
and the artist did a sloppy job on the linework of the tail…”

“Look, I didn’t come here for a critique,” Jungkook said irritably. “I just want it covered up.”

The old man looked up at him, fixing him with a hard stare and for a moment Jungkook thought he
might actually kick him out of his shop. But then the old man grunted and beckoned Jungkook
towards his tattoo table and began hunting around for a pencil and paper.

It took the old man a full week to cover up the dragon with the design Jungkook had decided on: a
full sleeve of a tiger prowling through the jungle, done in bright, vivid color. The ancient tattoo
artist never once spoke to Jungkook as he was tattooing him, preferring to work in silence which
was just fine with Jungkook. It gave him time to think about his next move, plan for what he would
write to Taehyung once he was in Hawaii. That’s how he had decided to announce his retirement
from the gang world to him, ask him if he was still willing to come live with him. If he was still
willing to be with him.

Taehyung constantly occupied his thoughts as he lay there on the tattoo table, distracting him from
the pain of the needle. What he was doing, how he spent his days, what he had been painting
lately. How big had Yeontan gotten and how had the scars on his arm healed?

And…did he still love him? Or had he found someone else?

It was on Jungkook’s final day in the tattoo shop that the old man finally spoke to him, breaking
him out of his depressing thoughts.

“This tiger,” the old man said, putting some finishing touches along the tiger’s eyes, “who is it
for?”

“What do you mean who is it for?” Jungkook said, frowning up at the ceiling, not looking at him.
“It’s for me.”

“I don’t tolerate liars,” the old man said mildly, still focused on the tattoo. “And I know the
reasons behind every one of my client’s tattoos even if they never say a word. You’re getting this
tiger inked on your arm for someone other than yourself. Now tell me who it is or I’ll refuse to
finish it.”

“If you don’t finish it, I won’t pay you.”

The old man sighed and carefully lifted the needle away from Jungkook’s arm, his expression
patient and unyielding that clearly said ‘I can wait all day, you little smartass.’

“Fine,” Jungkook grit out. “It’s for…the one I love.”

“Woman? Man?”

Jungkook glared at him. “I don’t think that’s any of your fucking business.”

“Ah, a man then,” the artist said, lowering his needle to Jungkook’s arm again. “Funny, I wouldn’t
have thought you were one of those.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You needn’t get so defensive, young man,” the artist said, filling in the tiger’s eyes with bright
yellow ink. “We have plenty of them in Japan too. I’m not prejudiced, it just never made sense to
me. Why would you want to be with a man when there are so many beautiful women around…”

“Shut up,” Jungkook snapped. “What the fuck would an old man like you know about love?” The
old man looked up at him again, those ancient dark eyes seeming to pierce right through him and
Jungkook felt himself get hot in the face. But still he went on. “He was willing to die for me,” he
said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Anyone ever love you like that?”

“Hmm.” The old man went back to focusing on the tattoo, putting the finishing touches around the
eye. “Strength and courage. This is what the tiger symbolizes in our culture. It is the same in
Korea, I think.” He glanced up at Jungkook for confirmation and Jungkook nodded. “So it seems
this is a fitting tattoo for your beloved. I’m just glad that my hard work and talent is not being
wasted on someone unworthy.”

And the old man finished the tattoo with a small smile on his face.

Once the tattoo was sanitized and wrapped with a bandage, Jungkook put his shirt back on. “How
much do I owe you?”

“No charge,” the old man said gruffly, cleaning up his tattoo station. “Just get out of my shop.”

"Um…what? But you said－”

“Never mind what I said,” the old man snapped. “We’re done here! Just go!”

Jungkook hesitated. The tattoo was a masterpiece, easily worth the cost of one of Jungkook’s
designer suits, if not more. To just walk out without paying…

“Are you still here?” the old man said, looking up at him. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Er…right.”

He made his way to the door but just as he put his hand on the door knob, the old man spoke from
behind him.

“Your tiger will return to you. But you must be patient.”

A shiver went through him and Jungkook turned back to look at the old man, staring at him. The
old man just nodded at him and went back to organizing his inks.

“Thank you,” Jungkook said quietly, and left the shop without another word, wondering if the old
man and the shop may have had a touch of magic to them after all. Whatever had happened, it had
definitely been one of the weirdest things he’d ever experienced.
One more plane ride and he was finally back in Hawaii, back in his little wooden bungalow with
his private beach. It feels so empty now without Taehyung to share it with him, isolated and lonely.

This is where Taehyung first told me he loved me, he thinks as he strolls along the beach. This is
where I failed to say it back to him.

But he says it in the letter he writes to him, as eloquently as he can. He spends hours on it,
scratching out sentences and rewriting it again and again, becoming more unsatisfied with each
draft. Finally, he gets frustrated and just writes exactly what he feels and leaves it at that, hoping it
will be enough. Hoping that he hasn’t waited too long.

Jungkook posts the letter to Yoongi’s address in Busan, with an accompanying note requesting that
he give the letter to Taehyung but only if he feels that it’s the right thing to do. If Taehyung is
happy where he is, if he’s met someone else, Jungkook has instructed Yoongi to just tear the letter
up and never speak of it.

If he’s happy, I’ll leave him alone. If he’s in love with someone else, I’ll let him go.

Your tiger will return to you…

But he can’t know that for sure, no matter what some maybe-mythical tattoo artist told him.
There’s nothing for him to do but wait.

***

“Taehyung ssi! Should I add the touches of pink to my bluebird like you did? Or can I use green
instead, green’s my favorite color!”

“You can do whatever color you like, Sooyun, it’s your painting－”

“Taehyung ssi! Look at mine! Look at mine! Look how good it is!”

“It’s very nice, Juwon, I like how you made the tail feathers extra long, it’s really pretty.”

The boy beams up at him and goes back to his bluebird painting, adding on more tail feathers.
Taehyung looks around and then makes his way across the art room to his favorite kid, Eunji, who
has her head down, working diligently on her painting. He knows it’s not exactly proper to pick
favorites out of all the kids but they had had a connection on his very first day of volunteering at
the art center.

“How’s it going, kiddo?” he says, leaning down to study her bluebird, the feathers meticulously
outlined. “Wow, it looks great!”

“Her name’s Alia,” Eunji whispers to him. “Because she likes to sing.”

“Ah, of course. What kinds of songs does she sing? Love ballads? Full-length operas?”

Eunji giggles but then tilts her head, her face scrunched up as she thinks about it. “She sings Red
Velvet songs,” she declares after a few seconds. “And only Red Velvet songs.”

Taehyung laughs. “Alia must be pretty talented then, to do all their voices at once.”

“She is,” Eunji says, grinning. “All the other bluebirds go to her concerts.”

“Not just the bluebirds,” Taehyung says. “But all the other songbirds too. And even the crows and
the eagles and the—”

“Ooh, an eagle!” she exclaims. “Can you show us how to paint an eagle next week?”

“Hmm...I think we’re supposed to do a landscape next week. That’s what Hana nim says we’re
doing. But,” and he leans closer so none of the other kids can hear him, “maybe I’ll show you how
to draw an eagle flying through the sky.”

She grins at him, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yay,” she says quietly, turning back to her
bluebird.

Taehyung watches her paint, a warm feeling of contentment settling in his chest. He signed up for a
six-month stint volunteering at one of Busan’s art centres, teaching kids, ages nine to eleven, the
basics of drawing and painting. And...he loves it. He loves the kids, he loves teaching, and his
Saturday afternoons spent in this room filled with easels and the smell of acrylic paint is where the
constant ache of missing him eases a little. Just a tiny bit, it never disappears completely but...it
does allow him to think about something else, even if it’s only for a couple of hours a week.

He’s only a month in to his six month commitment but already he can see himself signing up for
another one right after, during the spring months. Or maybe even doing something more.

“You should really think about getting your teaching certificate,” Hana had said to him in his
second week. And she actually worked as an art teacher. “You’re so talented! And the kids love
you. You’re a natural at this!”

“Yeah, maybe,” Taehyung said, blushing at her praise. “I never considered being a teacher but I
really do enjoy it...”

That would require him going to college, something he’s thought about from time to time but the
time commitment always puts him off. With anything in his life now, he always considers the
commitment: how long will this take? How easy will it be for me to break away from it if he comes
back for me?

Those first six months after Jungkook had sent him away, Taehyung had always told himself when.
When Jungkook comes back for me. But now, after a year and a half, the when had gradually
shifted to if. If Jungkook comes back for me.

College would be a huge time commitment and if he did get his teaching certificate and then a job
in Busan…wouldn’t it signal the end of his hope that Jungkook was coming back at all? If he just
finally allowed himself to settle into his life in Busan?

But now looking at Eunji happily working on her painting, looking around at the other kids in the
art room, Taehyung allows himself a new thought. Maybe. Maybe it’s time to let go.

It wouldn’t be the life he truly wanted, living here in Busan without him. Not when he still dreams
about their shared paradise in Hawaii, still aches for it. But if he isn’t going to come back…
Taehyung thinks he might as well try and make the best of it.

“Okay, everyone,” Hana announces from the other side of the room, breaking Taehyung out of his
thoughts. “Brushes down please! It’s time to start cleaning up. No, Chuwon, you can’t take your
bluebird painting home this week, it has to dry! You can take it next week!”

Taehyung assisted Hana in getting the kids to clean up, rinsing their brushes and dumping out their
cups of dirty water in the big paint-stained sink, collapsing the easels and making sure all of the
paintings were signed by each kid so they could avoid the chaos of their second week when they
had had to settle multiple disputes over whose bunny painting belonged to who.

“You’d know which one was mine, right, Taehyung ssi?” Eunji asks him anxiously as she very
deliberately prints her name at the bottom of her bluebird picture. “Even if it didn’t have my name
on it? In case it gets messed up somehow?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be able to tell. Down to the last feather,” he reassures her and she smiles
brightly, causing another flare of that warm contentment in his chest.

Yep…could definitely get used to this…

Parents arrive one by one to pick up their children, a process that takes a while, considering each
kid performs the ritual of dragging their mother or father or elder sibling over to their picture and
showing it off, asking again if they can take it home with them, only to be given a firm no by
Hana.

Taehyung says goodbye to each of the kids, Eunji hovering close by his side, waving excitedly as
her father walks into the art room. Heat blooms on Taehyung’s face and he fiddles with the sleeve
of his sweater, making sure it’s tugged all the way to his wrist. There’s no denying that Eunji’s
father, Chunso, is quite handsome and he had actually hung back for a few minutes last week,
making small talk with Taehyung. It hadn’t been pleasant or unpleasant, it had just been…weird.
The way his gaze had lingered just a little too long on Taehyung’s lips, how he had seemed so
reluctant to leave right away.

Taehyung doesn’t feel anything for Chunso except nervous. Being around someone who may or
may not be interested in him just makes him nervous.

“Hey, sweetie!” Chunso greets his daughter with a smile and a hug. “Have fun?”

“Yeah!” She grabs his hand, tugging him over to the table where all the pictures are drying. “We
painted bluebirds this week, come see mine…”

Chunso exchanges an amused look with Taehyung, one that says ‘kids, am I right?’ before
allowing himself to be dragged over to the table to examine Eunji’s work. “Wow, sweet pea, you
did such a good job!”

“Thanks,” she says proudly, looking down at her painting. “Taehyung ssi showed us how to draw
the feathers so they look real! And he said next week he’s going to show me how to draw an
eagle!”

“Oh, really?” Chunso glances over at Taehyung, lips quirked up in a smile. “Well, you’re lucky to
have such a talented teacher, huh?” He winks at Taehyung and Taehyung has to break eye contact,
looking down at his shoes, feeling something like guilt coil inside his stomach.

“Yeah!” Eunji says. “Daddy, can we go to McDonald’s? I want McDonald’s－” And then she
gasps, eyes wide, hurrying over to Taehyung. “Oh my gosh, Taehyung ssi! Do you want to come to
McDonald’s with us? With me and my dad?”

"Oh, um,” Taehyung stammers, fiddling with his sleeve again. “I’m sure your dad would just want
it to be the two of you and I－”

“I don’t mind,” Chunso says, walking back over to him, his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “In
fact, Eunji usually ends up abandoning me to go play in the ball pit they have there so I just end up
sitting by myself. It’d be nice to have some company.”

“I…” Taehyung’s heart hammers in his chest, his mouth going dry. He instinctively takes a step
back, fighting the urge to flee.

“It’d be my treat,” Chunso continues, and there’s a faint huskiness to his voice, an invitation for
something more than just a McDonald’s hamburger. He glances down at Taehyung’s lips for a
split second, before looking back into his eyes.

Taehyung’s fingers fumble for the red and blue bracelet he still wears around his wrist, and it
anchors him, allowing him to find his voice again.

“I’m so sorry,” Taehyung says, clearing his throat. “It’s very kind of you to invite me but I’m
actually supposed to be meeting my fiance for dinner so…”

“Oh.” Chunso frowns slightly. “My bad, I didn’t know－” He cuts himself off, looking incredibly
embarrassed. “I mean, of course you would have other plans on a Saturday.”

“Awww,” Eunji says, sounding disappointed. “That’s okay, Taehyung ssi, I guess I’ll see you next
week.”

"See you next week, kiddo,” Taehyung says, smiling at her, giving Chunso a small bow while
completely avoiding his eye. Once they’re gone and all of the other kids have been picked up, he
bids Hana goodbye and practically sprints out of the room to his car.

“Jesus, Tae,” Jimin says irritably. “Would it have killed you to go on one stupid date?”

“Jimin,” Taehyung replies, a note of warning in his voice as he chops up an onion for the stir fry
they’re making, “we’ve talked about this. Forget I said anything.”
He knew it had been a mistake to tell Jimin about Eunji’s father trying to flirt with him earlier. He
had just meant for it to be a weird, funny story, haha guess what happened to me today. But of
course Jimin had seized the opportunity to pester him about dating.

Jimin sighs, hacking away at some bell peppers on a cutting board, his knife thudding against the
wood. “I’m just saying－”

“Well, don’t just say!” Taehyung snaps. “We’ve been over this and I still feel the same way. If that
ever changes, I’ll let you know and then you can set me up with whatever random guy you think
would suit me.”

He can feel Jimin’s gaze on him but Taehyung keeps his head down, concentrating on the onion.
Telling himself that it’s the only reason why his eyes are starting to sting with tears.

It had only been a few months after Jimin and Yoongi had moved to Busan to be close to Taehyung
that his best friend had subtly tried to get him to move on from Jungkook. Nodding at attractive-
looking men when they were out walking Yeontan or at a coffee shop. “That guy’s really cute,”
Jimin would say. Or, “I think he’s checking you out.”

Taehyung would just shrug and shake his head, barely even glancing at the men Jimin pointed out
to him. He didn’t want any of them, had no interest even in looking. How could he when his body,
his heart, his soul belonged to Jungkook?

I said I would wait…I just have to be patient…

The final straw had happened when Jimin had ambushed him with a blind date one evening when
Taehyung had gone to Jimin and Yoongi’s place for dinner, about eight months after he had left
Seoul for good. Jimin had greeted him at the door, all smiles, ushering him in and then
immediately introducing him to a guy that Taehyung had never seen before in his life.

“Tae, this is Sehun,” Jimin said, standing between them and practically vibrating with excitement.
“He’s from my dance class! I hope you don’t mind me inviting him, I know it’s usually just the
three of us but I thought it’d be nice to have another person here…”

Taehyung’s entire body had gone cold as he shook hands with Sehun, forced a smile. Thank god he
had been wearing long sleeves.

Much to Jimin’s annoyance, Taehyung had kept things polite but distant with Sehun throughout the
entire meal, not asking him any questions about himself and answering Sehun’s questions with as
few words as possible.

Once dinner was over and Sehun had left, his goodbye to Jimin sounding a bit clipped, Yoongi had
made himself scarce while Taehyung had gotten into a knock down, drag ‘em out screaming match
with his best friend.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Taehyung had shouted at him. “Springing something on me like
that? I fucking told you, I’m not interested in dating anyone!”

“Jesus Christ, Tae, what would it hurt to just try and meet new people?” Jimin had yelled back.
“You’ve been closing yourself off, it’s not healthy－”

“I get to decide what’s best for me! Me! Not you!”

“Tae, I don’t want to see you throwing your entire life away because you’re waiting for
Jungkook!”
“I will wait for him!” Taehyung screamed, nearing complete hysteria. “There’s no one else for me!
Only him!” He had jerked up the sleeve of his shirt, exposing the scars written on his arm, stark
white against his skin. “How the fuck am I supposed to explain this to someone else, Jimin? You
think fucking Sehun is going to fucking understand this?”

Tears had overwhelmed him then and he had slumped back against Jimin’s kitchen counter,
burying his head in his hands.

“Tae,” Jimin said softly, coming to stand next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Is that the
reason you don’t want to date anyone? Because you think if they see your scars, you won’t be able
to explain it to them?”

"No,” Taehyung said, letting his hands fall from his face and shaking his head. “It’s not just that,
it’s…I don’t want to be with anyone else, Jimin. I still l-love him.”

“I know,” Jimin whispered, running a hand through Taehyung’s hair. “I know you do, Tae. And I
know he still loves you but…how long can you realistically wait for him? I hate seeing you
shutting yourself up in your apartment, not wanting to go anywhere or do anything. I don’t think
you can put your life on hold indefinitely.”

“I’m not,” Taehyung said weakly. “I’m not, I just…” But he doesn’t know how to finish that
sentence. Because Jimin was right. He had been closing himself off, preferring to stay in his
apartment and paint, only really venturing outside to take Yeontan out or go out somewhere with
Jimin every couple of weeks. Because he wanted to be at home when that knock came on the door
and he would open it to find Jungkook standing there, smiling at him.

I got out, Tae. I’m out for good. Come here and kiss me, baby, I missed you so much…

Every morning, he woke up with a new hope swelling in his chest that today would be the day that
Jungkook would show up. And every night, that hope was crushed once again when there was still
no sign of Jungkook. No letters, no phone calls, no messages. Nothing.

“Tae,” Jimin said quietly. “What if he doesn’t come back?”

“He will.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“Then I’ll…” Taehyung tried to speak around the lump rising in his throat. “I’ll…”

“He gave you your freedom, Tae,” Jimin said. “That’s the best thing he ever did for you. He
wouldn’t want you to waste it.”

And that was the moment that the seed of doubt was planted and the when turned into an if. If
Jungkook comes back.

Jimin was also right, in a way. Jungkook had told Taehyung that he wanted him to live his life and
be happy. All Taehyung had been doing since he left Seoul was existing, biding his time until
Jungkook came back for him.

It was no way to live and Taehyung knew it. He didn’t need Jimin to tell him that. But he had
needed a reminder of what his freedom meant to him.

He had started taking baby steps after that night. He tried to go out with Jimin once a week, and
then twice a week, until they now went out at least three or four times a week, to movie theaters
and art galleries, out to the park or just to do some grocery shopping. At first, anxiety plagued him
whenever he was away from his apartment for more than a couple of hours, worried he would miss
Jungkook if he happened to come by while Taehyung was out. But then he reasoned that Jungkook
would either just wait for him to return or come back the next day; he wouldn’t just give up after
one try; Taehyung knew that. Gradually, his anxiety eased and he could actually begin to enjoy
himself when he was out with Jimin and this past Christmas had even suggested they go ice skating
together, something he had never tried before.

And when the new year rolled around and Taehyung had just celebrated his twenty-first birthday,
he had decided it was time to take another step into adulthood; he decided to get his driver’s
license.

To his surprise, Yoongi offered to teach him, making time for lessons every day and actually
turning out to be a patient and methodical instructor. (Unlike Jimin, who would sit in the backseat
and blurt out unhelpful advice: “Oh come on, Tae, you don’t need to stop at a stop sign when there
are no other cars around, that’s just a formality!” “Jimin, I’m pretty sure when I go for my test,
they won’t accept that as a rule!”)

Thankfully, when he had gone for his test, he had passed with flying colors on his very first
attempt and Jimin and Yoongi had taken him out to celebrate at one of the city’s fanciest
restaurants.

“You should get yourself a brand new car!” Jimin had said, beaming at him as he raised his glass
in a toast. “You could get a Lamborghini! Or a Bugatti!”

“Technically, I could,” Taehyung said, feeling himself blush. “But I don’t think I’d want to get
anything that flashy. I’m trying to keep a low profile here, remember?”

“Aw, you’re no fun…”

He had settled on a practical Kia Optima Hybrid, much to Jimin’s disappointment. But it was nice
not having to rely on Yoongi to drive them everywhere and Taehyung was even thinking about a
road trip with Jimin once he felt a little more confident behind the wheel. If he went on a road trip,
he’d be away from his apartment for weeks on end...but he could always leave a note with Yoongi,
right? If Jungkook came back?

Even as he’s taking steps to expand his life and making progress, Taehyung still misses Jungkook
every day. Wonders what he’s doing, if he’s okay. He knows he’s still alive because he had a pact
with Yoongi that if anything were to happen to Jungkook, Yoongi would tell him immediately. So
far, Yoongi hasn’t said one word about Jungkook in all the time Taehyung has been living in
Busan, even though Taehyung knows he’s still in contact with him. So he has that for peace of
mind, at least. No news is good news.

But that doesn’t stop him from missing him, aching for him, dreaming about him. In his dreams,
Taehyung will find himself navigating through a dark jungle or wandering across a vast expense of
desert, the sky above strewn with stars, sparkling above him like diamonds. And in that diamond
sky is the enormous black dragon that has rescued him in dreams before, scales shining silver in
the moonlight. No matter how far Taehyung walks, no matter how long he chases it, the dragon
remains so high above him while Taehyung remains so far below. Always within his sight but
forever out of reach.

It is these dreams, more than the nightmares he still has sometimes that feature knives and cages
and flowing blood, that terrify him. Instill him with such a feeling of loss and hopelessness that he
wakes up crying.
And Jungkook is there in his waking hours too, residing close to the front of his mind at all times,
no matter what he’s doing. He’s there in Taehyung’s private art room when Taehyung gets up to
paint in the middle of the night, restless from his dreams. He’s there when Taehyung cuddles
Yeontan and he wonders what Jungkook would say about how big the puppy has gotten, now a
fully-grown fluffy Pomeranian. And he’s there in the quiet of the early morning when Taehyung
imagines Jungkook lying next to him in bed, warm hands on his skin, on top of him, inside of him.
Giving him all of the kisses he’s craved since the day Taehyung left Seoul.

Maybe Jungkook won’t come back. Maybe it’s time Taehyung accepts that there’s a possibility
he’ll never see Jungkook again, never again kiss him or hold his hand. But he still won’t open
himself up to the possibility of a relationship with someone else. If he doesn’t get to be with
Jungkook, he’d rather be by himself.

Even if Jungkook has moved on from him, Taehyung would just rather be by himself than love
someone else.

“Tae?”

Taehyung blinks, coming back to the present, staring down at the onion that remains half-sliced on
the cutting board. “Hmm?”

“Are you done with the onion? We still need to cut up some mushrooms…”

“Almost,” Taehyung says, swiping at his eyes with his sleeve and going back to cutting the onion.
He sniffles, keeping his back to Jimin. “Sorry, I spaced out there for a second.”

“Hey.” He feels Jimin’s arms wrap around him, trapping him in a back hug. “I’m sorry for what I
said earlier, Tae Tae. It was out of line.” He gives Taehyung a little squeeze, resting his cheek on
his shoulder. “You know I just want you to be happy, right?”

Taehyung puts the knife down, patting Jimin’s arm. “I know, Chim,” he says softly. “I’m just…not
interested in doing the dating thing. Not right now.”

“Yeah, I know, I won’t push it,” Jimin replies. “But you’re having fun at the art centre, right? You
like going there?”

“Yeah, I do,” Taehyung whispers, thinking about today’s class, his mind already imagining next
week’s class, what he can teach the kids. “I love the kids. It’s like…I’m able to do something that I
wish I had been able to do when I was younger, you know?”

“Yeah,” Jimin says quietly and Taehyung can hear the smile in his voice. “It’s the same feeling I
get when I go to my dance classes. You thought any more about getting your teaching certificate?”
Taehyung had told Jimin about Hana’s comment and his friend had replied with overwhelming
enthusiasm.

"Maybe,” Taehyung says, staring down at the counter but not really seeing it. “I’m…thinking
about it.”

“Maybe’s good,” Jimin murmurs, giving him another squeeze. “Maybe’s better than no.”

Taehyung nods, biting his lip. “Mm hmm.”

“Come on, let’s get this stir fry finished, I’m starving.”

They get the rest of the vegetables chopped, throw it all in a pan with some ground beef and wait
for it to cook, both of them almost tripping over Yeontan as he trots around the kitchen, his big
puppy eyes hopeful and pleading.

“Come here, fluffball,” Taehyung says, scooping him up in his arms. “You can have some when
it’s done.”

There’s a knock at the door, startling him and Jimin abandons the pan on the stove to go answer it.
“It’s Yoongi,” he confirms when he looks through the peephole. “Late, as usual…”

He undoes the numerous locks and bolts that secure Taehyung’s apartment door and opens it,
greeting his boyfriend with a bright smile. “Hey, honey, long day?”

“Not so bad,” Yoongi says, leaning in for a kiss. “Just had some last-minute things to do at the
shop…”

Taehyung turns away, focusing on stroking Yeontan’s fur, cooing at him. He likes Yoongi, is
grateful for his protection, but he can’t help but feel like a third wheel sometimes.

“Hey, Tae?” Yoongi says, and Taehyung turns back to them, frowning slightly as Yoongi walks
towards him, taking something out of the back pocket of his jeans. “This, uh, came for you today.”

Taehyung stares at the white envelope in Yoongi’s hand, his stomach doing a weird sort of slow-
motion flip flop. There’s no name or address that he can see on the envelope; it’s been left
completely blank.

“How can you know it’s for me?” Taehyung says hesitantly. “There’s no name on it.”

“It came along with another letter addressed to me,” Yoongi says, holding out the envelope
towards him. “It’s from Jungkook.”

Taehyung’s entire body seems to seize up and in that moment, he completely forgets how to
breathe.

Jungkook, it’s from Jungkook…

He looks up at Jimin, who is gazing back at him, looking slightly stricken. Jimin opens his mouth
and then closes it again, looking away from him.

“I…”

“Me and Jimin can give you some privacy, if you want,” Yoongi says, still holding out the letter.
“If you’d rather read it alone.” He looks at Jimin over his shoulder. “Right, Chim?”

Jimin doesn’t say anything. He just shrugs, wrapping his arms around himself, staring down at the
ground.

“No, it’s okay,” Taehyung says, setting Yeontan gently on the ground and at last taking the
envelope from Yoongi. “I’ll…just go read it in the other room and then join you guys for dinner.
It’s almost ready.”

He hurries to the room he uses for his art studio and closes the door behind him, leaning back
against it, and takes a deep breath. His heart is beating a million miles a minute and Taehyung
holds the letter to his chest with trembling hands.

Jungkook, it’s from Jungkook…

He starts to open it, but then stops. Why a letter? Why not come see him in person?

Doubts flood his mind and Taehyung stares at the envelope in his hands as he imagines all of the
heartbreaking sentences the letter might contain.

Dear Taehyung, I’ve met someone else…Dear Taehyung, I’m writing you from prison, I’m so
sorry…Dear Taehyung, I’ve moved on and so should you, I’m never coming back…

A small noise escapes him, something between a sob and a gasp and he looks up and sees the
painting currently resting on his easel, the one he’s been working on for three weeks now and is
almost finished.

It depicts a black dragon and a golden tiger curled up together on a stretch of sand, a full moon
shining down on them. They have their foreheads pressed together, frozen in mid-nuzzle, their tails
intertwined. It’s something he’s been seeing in his dreams more and more and Taehyung finds
himself crying every time he works on it.

He moves closer, studying the dragon for a few moments, taking it in. Then he inhales a shaky
breath, rips the envelope open and unfolds the letter, his heart in his throat as he reads.

My little tiger,

Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought about you. Every day I would wake up, wishing you
were with me, hating that you were somewhere else. I had to fight with myself every day to not
come to where you are. Because I wanted to do this right. I wanted to take the time to become the
man you deserve.

I hope I achieved that. I’m out now, out of that life forever and I’ve taken steps to ensure that it
never follows me. You’ll be happy to know all of our friends are out too, with the exception of the
one who chose to stay. You can probably guess who.

I’m writing you this from the private place I shared with you and only you, where we swam in the
ocean and made love under the stars. And I hope, with all of my being, that you’ll come share it
with me again.

You’re probably wondering why I didn’t come to tell you this myself; I wanted to, my tiger, but I
felt this way was safer. And, if I’m being honest, I was scared. Scared that I would find you happy
and in love with someone else. My greatest fear now is that it’s too late and I waited too long,
didn’t get out soon enough.

But even if the thought of never seeing you again terrifies me, I want you to be happy. More than
anything, that’s what I want for you. For you to be happy and alive and free.

Just know that I’ll still love you no matter what you choose. If you decide to come back to me a
year, ten years, hell, a hundred years from now, know that I’ll wait for you every single day. And if
you’re happy where you are and we never meet again, please know that I’ll still be here, still
loving you for the rest of my life.

-J

The letter falls from Taehyung’s hand and he bursts into tears, burying his face in his hands as
Jungkook’s letter flutters to the floor.

***

Six months. It’s been six months, three days, and seven hours since Jungkook had sent that letter to
Taehyung. And he still hasn’t shown up.

For the first month or so, Jungkook justified Taehyung’s continued absence by telling himself that
he wouldn’t be able to come to Hawaii right away－he would have some loose ends to tie up,
maybe sell his apartment, pack up his things before he could come. And it certainly didn’t help
that Taehyung didn’t really have any means of contacting him; Jungkook no longer had a cell
phone, not wanting anybody to be able to trace him and his tiny bungalow by the ocean didn’t
exactly come with a postal address. Still, he hoped that maybe Yoongi might send him a message
to indicate whether Taehyung planned on coming or not so he made the trip into town to visit the
post office every couple of days. It got to the point where the lady working there would simply
shake her head as soon as he popped his head in the door.

“Sorry, nothing for you yet,” she would say. “It can take a while for things to get here, we are an
island, after all…”

Jungkook simply thanked her and headed back out again. Only to return a couple of days later and
get the exact same answer.

One month became two months and still no sign of Taehyung. He had nothing to do all day but
wander around the beach, maybe go for a swim if he felt like it, but more often that not he just lay
on his futon, the one where he and Taehyung had slept, and just stare out at the ocean. Wondering
where Taehyung was, what he was doing.

Maybe he’s packing right this very second, he would think. Maybe he’s getting Yeontan into a little
crate and driving to the airport. Maybe he’s just landed and he’s on his way right now…

He drove himself crazy with these obsessive thoughts. And still, Taehyung didn’t show up.

It was during the third month when Jungkook woke up one morning, a single devastating thought
in his head.

He’s not coming.

That was all it took to convince Jungkook that what he thought was true. Taehyung wasn’t coming,
he had met someone else and had forgotten all about him. He was probably engaged to be married
and Jungkook would never see him again. He would remain on this island alone for the rest of his
life until the day he died.

He didn’t get get up from the futon for two straight days.

What was the point? Seriously, what was the fucking point? He had loved Taehyung and now had
lost him to someone else because he had been so fucking stupid to send him away. Had he really
expected Taehyung to wait for him for so long and not be wooed by some handsome doctor or rich
lawyer, someone who could actually offer him a normal life? Had he really thought Taehyung
wouldn’t find someone better?

These dark thoughts clouded his mind to the point where Jungkook just considered getting up and
walking into the ocean, swimming out as far as he could until his limbs got heavy and the waves
pulled him under. Because a life without Taehyung, a life without even the hope of him returning,
wasn’t worth living at all.

So what’s the point?

Luckily, he didn’t have the energy to actually get up from the futon and embark on a fatal swim in
the ocean. Instead he just lay there, watching the sun pass over him, staring up at the sky as the
moon took its turn to sail across the stars.

On the third day of his crippling depression, he woke up with a black cat sitting on his chest.

He blinked at it, unsure if it was a hallucination, some sort of leftover remnant from one of his
dreams. But the cat was real, all right, judging by the way Jungkook could feel its sharp claws
digging into his skin as the cat kneaded his chest, purring away like a jet engine.

“Where the fuck did you come from?”

The cat just regarded him with bright green eyes, huffing at him impatiently and pawing at his
face. Jungkook tried to shoo him away but the cat didn’t budge, curling up right on top of
Jungkook’s chest, wrapping its long tail around its body and falling asleep.

Jungkook sighed. “Guess I can’t go anywhere now, huh?”

So he was forced to lie there with the cat sleeping on top of him, absentmindedly stroking the cat’s
soft fur, closing his eyes and tilting his head up to the sun, a sense of tranquility flowing through
him.

It was stupid to assume that Taehyung wasn’t coming or even that he had met someone else. He
couldn’t know either of those things for sure and he said in his letter that he would wait. If
Taehyung ended up coming to Hawaii and Jungkook wasn’t there…

So he stayed. He remained on the futon for another hour or so, not wanting to disturb the cat just
yet. It was nice to have some company and if Jungkook snuck a couple of kisses onto the cat’s
fuzzy forehead, well, there was no one around to witness him doing such a thing.

Then he got up from the futon for the first time in days, scooping up the cat in his arms and
carrying him into the bungalow to get them both something to eat.

“You hungry? You don’t look like you’re starving, you’re actually kind of fat…”

The cat wasn’t really that fat but he looked well-fed and Jungkook didn’t think he was a stray.

"Who’s your owner, big guy?” Jungkook said to it as he chopped up a mango. The cat sat on his
counter, long black tail swishing back and forth, acid green eyes fixed on the mango. “Don’t
wanna say? That’s fine. Whoever he is, I bet he’s an asshole. You should stay here with me.”

But the cat didn’t end up staying. After hanging around his bungalow for a few hours, lounging in
Jungkook’s lap, the cat suddenly got up and headed away down the beach, prowling along the sand
like a miniature panther.

He never saw the cat again.

Still, the bizarre encounter with the cat had given him a boost of energy. And he had realized that
there was no reason for him to give up just yet. There was still a small corner of his heart that
hoped and dreamed and lived for Taehyung.

He could wait. For years on end if that’s what it took.

But maybe he needed a hobby.

What that would be, he didn’t exactly know. His previous life hadn’t allowed for a lot of leisure
time, besides visits to the Bird Cage. And that was certainly out of the question. No, he needed
something productive, something that would keep his hands busy and his mind occupied so he
wouldn’t slip into despair again.

Not knowing what else to do, he started an intense workout routine that involved getting up at the
crack of dawn to do a series of push ups, pulls ups, and lunges until his muscles burned and his
body was coated in a sheen of sweat. He ate a breakfast of fruit and granola while he cooled off
and then went out for a morning swim, diving beneath the sun-sparkled waves to see how far he
could swim down before having to come up for air, each day pushing himself a little farther. In the
evenings he went for a jog along the beach, with nothing but the stars to light his way.

It was on one of these nighttime jogs that Jungkook almost tripped over an old abandoned fishing
boat and, on a whim, decided to take it home with him, dragging it along the sand, the muscles in
his arms straining.

The next morning, in the full light of day, he inspected the boat to find it mostly intact, if looking a
little worse for wear, the originally white paint now yellowed and flaking off. So, mostly because
Jungkook had nothing better to do, he decided to fix it up, give it a fresh paint job.

Instead of white, Jungkook painted it in stripes of rich plum, acid green, bright turquoise. They
clashed horribly but the colors reminded him of Taehyung; made Jungkook feel a little bit closer to
him.

Once the boat was fitted with a brand new motor, Jungkook went out on the water, not to fish but
just to explore around the coast, go wherever the waves might take him. And it’s on one of these
excursions that he nearly collided with another fishing boat, this time manned by an actual
fisherman.

“I’m surprised I didn’t see your boat,” the man said in English, laughing cheerfully over the fact
that they had nearly crashed into each other. “It looks like a parrot threw up on it. Who painted it?”

“Uh…I did.”

“Shit, really?” The man frowns, studying the vivid shades of Jungkook’s boat as they bob next to
each other. “Hey, you want to paint mine? Maybe not those exact colours but something that would
make it stand out at the dock? All of our boats look the fucking same, I want to be able to tell mine
apart.”
“...sure. I’ll paint your boat for you.”

“Yeah? I can pay you for it.”

“That’s not necessary. No charge.”

The man, named Makoa, tried to pay Jungkook anyway but when Jungkook still refused his
money, he insisted on giving Jungkook some fresh fish in exchange for painting his boat a sunny
yellow. And then another fisherman approached Jungkook at the docks when he had been painting
Makoa’s boat, asking Jungkook if he would paint his boat next.

“Can you paint my boat red and purple? Like a two-tone thing? For my little girls, those are their
favorite colors.”

And so Jungkook found himself unexpectedly running his own boat painting business.

He still refused to take any money from them because he had no need for it, still had plenty left
over from his mob days, enough to last him a lifetime. But they pay him in fish and good company,
insisting on taking him out to a local tiki bar every Saturday for a beer. They call him ‘the Tiger
man’ because of his tattoo, or just ‘J’ if anyone asks for his name. Jungkook enjoyed his time with
them, figuring that a little socializing couldn’t hurt, as long as they don’t ask him any personal
questions and they almost never do. Whenever the subject of women comes up, Jungkook just
quietly sips his beer and lets them talk, letting them assume whatever they want to assume about
him.

So that’s how he spends his days on the island; working out in the morning, heading out to the
docks to slap a coat of paint on one of the fishermen’s boats (only bright colors; no neutrals), and
then returns to his private stretch of beach with some fish to cook, always making enough for two
in case Taehyung should show up.

Except he hasn’t. Not yet.

But even as he waits and longs to see Taehyung every day, missing him more than ever, Jungkook
feels a sense of peace as he goes about his days now, a slight easing of the ache. Painting the boats
keeps him occupied, the hot sun beating down on him and he feels satisfied once he’s completed a
job, proud to have transformed something with nothing but a few cans of paint and a paintbrush.

His hair grows long enough that he gets in the habit of pulling some of it back into a top knot to
keep it out of his face and he’s currently in the best shape of his life thanks to his intense fitness
regimen, his entire body lean and roped with muscle. Not that he was out of shape before but these
days he actually feels healthy. Relaxed. No longer tense and pissed off, seconds away from
exploding.

He still wears the red and blue bracelet around his wrist, the one that serves as a reminder of his
commitment to Taehyung. It’s possible Taehyung has removed his own bracelet and moved on but
the thought doesn’t bother Jungkook as much as it did before. He knows Taehyung doesn’t belong
to him, is free to live his own life. If anything, it’s the other way around; it is Jungkook who
belongs to Taehyung, body and soul.

I’m here and I’m yours, he’ll think late at night when he’s lounging on the futon, staring up at the
moon. And I’ll love you forever, until the universe ends.

It brings him a strange sense of comfort that the moon that hangs over him is the same one that
Taehyung sees at night, that no matter how far apart they are, they will always share the same sun
shining down on them.

It is on a day six months, three days, and seven hours since Jungkook sent his letter to Taehyung,
that he finds himself sitting on his private beach, watching the sunset, soft blue fading to pink
fading to orange, painting the ocean a shimmering gold.

The moon is in the sky already and Jungkook is fascinated by this for some reason, and he keeps
looking between the setting sun and the rising moon, suspended in perfect balance.

He wonders how Taehyung would paint a scene like this and he glances down at the bracelet
around his wrist, feeling his throat tighten. Maybe Taehyung is painting something right now,
something beautiful, his hands speckled with color, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he
concentrates. And if Jungkook was there with him, he’d walk up to him, slip his arms around his
waist from behind, plant a soft kiss on the nape of his neck and Taehyung would turn and smile at
him…

He’s startled out of his fantasy by a high-pitched barking noise and turns to see a small ball of
black and tan fur barreling across the sand straight for him, a pink tongue lolling out of its mouth.
The dog gallops up to him, barking and barking, licking frantically at his arm, shoving its cold, wet
nose against his skin.

Jungkook sighs. “Hey, Yeontan,” he says, scratching his ears. “You’ve gotten big. Relatively
speaking.”

He turns to gaze out at the horizon again before the full realization hits him and he looks back at
the dog, gaping at him. “Yeontan?”

Yeontan yips at him, panting eagerly, doing a little doggy prance on the sand.

But if Yeontan is here, then that means －

He whips his head around, looking around wildly before he sees him coming around the side of the
bungalow, his expression searching, worried－

Their eyes meet and Taehyung’s smile lights up Jungkook’s entire world.

And then he’s on his feet, running, tripping over the sand in his haste to get to Taehyung and
Taehyung is sprinting towards him too until they’re colliding with each other, enfolding one
another in their arms, just clinging and clinging and clinging.

Please don’t be a dream, Jungkook thinks as they both fall to their knees, still holding onto each
other, oh god, please don’t let this be a dream, please let this be real--

Taehyung laughs softly in his ear and it’s the most beautiful sound Jungkook has ever heard in his
entire life. “It’s real,” he says, and Jungkook realizes that he’s said those words out loud. “It’s real,
I’m here, god, Jungkook, I’m sorry that it took me so long－”
"I don’t care about that,” Jungkook says, pulling back so he can look at Taehyung’s face. God, his
beautiful face, his eyes filled with tears that are spilling down his cheeks, lips stretched in his
bright, boxy smile, the exact same one that Jungkook has carried in his heart all this time. “I just
care that you’re here with me now.”

“Here to stay,” Taehyung whispers, reaching up and caressing Jungkook’s cheek, wiping away the
tears that are streaming down Jungkook’s face. “If you still want me to.”

A sob catches in Jungkook’s throat and he can only nod, keeping his arms wrapped around
Taehyung, keeping him close. “I love you,” he manages to gasp out, pressing his forehead against
Taehyung’s. “God, Tae, I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too.” Taehyung nuzzles him, rubbing their noses together. “I never stopped loving you,
Jungkook.” He exhales shakily, running his hands through Jungkook’s hair. “Not for one second.”

“Me too,” Jungkook murmurs. “Every day, my only thought was how to get back to you. How to
get back here with you.”

“I know. I was the same way these last few months. I wanted to come as soon as I got your letter
but I had something I needed to see through until the end, but, god, there were days when I just
wanted to leave it all behind and hop on a plane to come be with you.”

Jungkook shakes his head, feeling like his heart is expanding inside his chest, filling his entire
body with joy. “Doesn’t matter,” he breathes. “I would have waited a thousand years for you, Tae.”

“Jungkook…” Taehyung gazes at him, his eyes alight with love, the warmth shining in them
putting the very sun to shame, “…kiss me.”

Their lips meet in a soft, precious kiss while the sun and the moon look down on them from high
above, caressing them in gold and silver light.

*
 Epilogue

One year later…

Jungkook makes his way along the path towards town, Yeontan trotting by his side. Taehyung’s
art class should be done in about fifteen minutes or so but he always likes to get there early, see
what the kids have done, let them all pet and cuddle Yeontan for a few minutes before they head
home.

His heart pounds in his chest as he walks in the shade of the palm trees, thinking about the special
evening he has planned for them, rehearsing it in his head. Hopefully, tonight he’ll be able to
finally get the words out, ask Taehyung the question he’s been meaning to ask for so long.

A few minutes later, Taehyung’s art gallery/teaching studio comes into view, a modest little one-
story building that had originally served as a cafe that was only open during tourist season.
Taehyung had bought it, the two of them had renovated it and now Taehyung used it to show off
collections by local artists, teach kids how to paint and draw, free of charge. Taehyung had named
it The Bluebird Art Studio and anyone with a passion for art was welcome.

Jungkook hears the sound of the kids’ laughter as he approaches the door, his lover’s voice raised
slightly above it, just enough to be heard. “Okay, you guys, it’s time to start cleaning up…”

There’s a chorus of disappointed ‘awwwwws’ as Jungkook walks in and then another series of
more enthusiastic ‘awwws’ as the kids spot Yeontan and rush over to pet him.

“Ah, ah, clean up first, please,” Jungkook says to them, scooping up Yeontan in his arms, holding
him hostage from the kids’ eager hands. “Then you can pet him.”

It’s incentive enough for the kids to skip away and hurry to clean up their stations, each one
wanting to be the one to be able to pet Yeontan first. Taehyung wanders over to him, greeting him
with a smile and a quick kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Jungkook grins at him, slipping an arm around his waist, pulling Taehyung a bit closer.
“What’d you guys paint today?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to answer but then a little girl, around nine or ten, comes up to them,
holding up her painting. “We painted tigers!” she says eagerly. “Or…what do you call them in
Korean again, Mr. Kim?”

“Holang-i,” Taehyung tells her, granting her a warm smile. “And your holang-i turned out so
beautiful, Malia.”

"Not as beautiful as you, my little tiger,” Jungkook whispers to Taehyung in Korean as Malia trots
away, giving his waist a squeeze and Taehyung blushes, rolling his eyes.

Once everything is put neatly away and the kids have nearly snuggled Yeontan to death, they all
bid Taehyung and Jungkook goodbye, scampering away to their respective homes, all of them
eager for the next class.

“Good class?” Jungkook asks, taking Taehyung’s hand in his as he goes around the room,
inspecting the paintings. A lot of the tigers are painted the typical orange and black that one might
expect, but he notices that a couple are done in more fantastical colours, bright purple, or black
with rainbow stripes.
“Yeah, it was fun,” Taehyung says, beaming around at the paintings. “I think I might show them a
dragon next week. Dragon,” he says again, saying the word in English. “Am I saying that right?”

“Mm hmm,” Jungkook says, unable to help from grinning. “You sound really fucking cute when
you speak in English, baby. You know that, right?”

“Shut up,” Taehyung says, swatting him on the arm. “I’m not trying to sound cute, I’m trying to
sound fluent.”

“You are fluent,” Jungkook reassures him, kissing his cheek. “I’d say your English is better than
mine by now.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“Am not.”

"Are too.”

“I dunno,” Jungkook says slyly, moving behind Taehyung and slipping his arms around his waist.
“When you talked dirty in English the other night, it sounded pretty fucking good to me…”

“Mmm…you would say that…”

Taehyung turns towards him and their lips meet in a deep, sensual kiss, Jungkook slipping his
tongue inside Taehyung’s mouth, eliciting the softest of whimpers from him. But he pulls back
before things can get too heated between them.

“I was thinking we could take the boat out tonight,” Jungkook whispers, nuzzling Taehyung’s
neck. “Bring some food with us…make love out on the water…”

“Sounds wonderful…” Taehyung says, a slight hitch in his voice. “Guess Tannie will have to sit
this one out.”

“Well, yeah. Remember what happened last time?”

Taehyung giggles. “Good point. Guess we have to leave you at home, fluffball,” he says to
Yeontan and Yeontan yips in agreement.

Taehyung goes around the studio, doing some last minute tidying up and Jungkook wanders over to
the gallery section, frowning when he notices one of Taehyung’s paintings is missing.

“Hey, what happened to your painting? The one of the whale in the clouds?”

“Oh, it sold,” Taehyung replies, flicking off the lights. “One of the kids’ dads wanted it for his
wife.”

“How much you sell it for?”

“Fifty dollars.”

“Fifty dollars?” Jungkook turns to face Taehyung, incredulous. “It was worth at least fifty
thousand, Tae.”

“Oh, whatever, I’m not going to put such a ridiculous price on it. I want my art to be enjoyed, not
bought by some rich snob as an investment so it’ll be locked away in a vault somewhere. Besides, I
have too many paintings cluttering up our place, I need to get rid of some.”
 “Your art could never be clutter, Tae,” Jungkook says, shoving his hands in his pockets and
making his way back over to Taehyung. “I always enjoy looking at it.”

“I know,” Taehyung says, giving him a shy smile. And then his expression turns mischievous.
“And you get to look at it for free. So consider yourself lucky, boss man.”

They shut down the gallery and then head back home, Yeontan running up ahead of them as they
meander down the path, hand in hand.

“I’m looking forward to tonight,” Taehyung says, taking a second to roll his sleeves up. “What
kind of food do you want to take with us? I’m thinking something simple, like maybe just a fruit
salad, you know, chop up some mangoes and kiwis, I know we still have some left in the fridge…”

Jungkook’s gaze snags on the scars on Taehyung’s arm for a split second, that old familiar guilt
rising within him for a moment before fading away again. There’s nothing either of them can do
about the scars they still bear; Jungkook’s still got the one on his stomach, in addition to the scar
on his chest, from where the bullet had entered him. Taehyung still wears long sleeves whenever
they’re out in public, especially at the art gallery but when it’s just the two of them on their private
beach, Taehyung allows Jungkook to strip him naked, press his lips to each cruel reminder of the
pain he had gone through. Of the pain they had gone through.

But the memory of the pain only makes Jungkook that much more grateful for their present
happiness, grateful that Taehyung was still here beside him. And he realizes suddenly that he can’t
wait until tonight to ask him. He can’t wait another second.

He stops walking and Taehyung takes a couple of oblivious steps before he feels the tug of
Jungkook’s hand and stops too, turning to look at him, a puzzled look on his face.

“What is－”

“Tae,” Jungkook says softly. “Will you marry me?”

Taehyung doesn’t answer. But the kiss he gives Jungkook, soft and featuring the curve of his
smile, is answer enough.

Chapter End Notes

And they lived happily ever after :)

I don't mean to be cheesy but I just want to thank everyone who read this story,
everyone who left kudos and comments, the amazingly talented fan artists who did fan
art for this fic, I never dreamed of having such wonderful, supportive readers. Writing
this fic and getting to share it with all of you has been the best thing about my year - I
purple you
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Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)

I will be doing my best to keep a consistent posting schedule and plan on releasing a new
chapter every Friday.

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