Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Give me your hand.”

Jeongguk looks up to Yoongi and obeys. He clenches his jaw, unclenches and wills the anxiety swirling in the pits of his stomach to disappear. He’s fearing tonight’s fight and he knows it’s visible, that the people and the opponent will be able to sense it from miles off and feed off on it.

Yoongi takes the hand provided to him, ripping off the tape with his teeth and beginning to wrap it around his knuckles skillfully. He extends it down to his wrist, doubling it up before letting go.

“Hyung… what if—”

“Don’t.” Yoongi cuts him off with a stern look. “We’re not going to focus on the what if’s, d’you understand me?”

Ever since Yoongi had heard that Jeongguk was up against Daehyun, he had been working Jeongguk harder than ever. They spent endless nights in the gym, training endlessly until exhaustion crawled under every bone in his body, until his muscles were protesting and he couldn’t feel his limbs. Still, Yoongi keeps pushing him.

As a nineteen-year old, Jeongguk excels in his fights but he’s still young. He still lacks the years the other boxers have on him and it’ll, inevitably, be his downfall.

Yoongi has been his trainer since day one, ever since Jeongguk had discovered the underground fighting circle. He had seen Yoongi fight in the ring, the way the man bled but still poured every ounce of power left within him to defeat the man he was up against. Jeongguk had been mesmerised.

Yoongi has taught him everything he knows. His techniques, his skills, the bruises that he carries with him and the achievements. They all stem down from his trainer and Jeongguk values Yoongi’s presence in his life beyond all.

“Where’s Taehyung?” Jeongguk forces himself to change the subject and remove the mental image of Daehyun punching his teeth in, flexing his wrapped up hands.

Yoongi grabs a water bottle sitting on the side idly, taking a sip and passing the cold content onto him. He accepts it, letting the liquid drain inside of him.

“He’s outside the warehouse, per usual.”

Jeongguk nods. He knows Taehyung’s eager to see him fight but it’s easier like this, not stepping inside of the warehouse. Once you’re in the underground circle, you’re a part of it and they’ll force you to fight. They prey off new blood, off the fear they hold towards the scene before them and all the newcomers nearly always end up in the hospital.

“C’mon,” Yoongi’s breaking the silence and drawing him out of his thoughts, holding out a hand for Jeongguk to take. “We have a few minutes till the match starts, we should get to the ring.”

Jeongguk swallows, nodding as he takes the support and stands up. He rolls his shoulders a few times, easing the tension off them and painting on his game face. The standbys, and fighters themselves, seem to admire Jeongguk. Perhaps because he’s so young and effortlessly defeating every match (not a single loss, so far) or because of the cold expression he holds when he knocks his opponents down.

He feels anxious and there’s a lump in his throat that he can’t swallow down, no matter how hard he tries. He tightens his jaw, stretching out the muscles in his arms. Jeongguk can do this. He’s worked hard enough, he’s trained mercilessly. He can do this.

They emerge from the dressing room, Yoongi leading him down the winding hallway where the crowd can be heard from a mile off.

The crowd is always rowdy. Usually intoxicated, exhilarated by their surroundings and always placing bets on the fighters. There’s pressure evident in the air, especially when money is involved in matters.

Today is no different. There’s a bigger gathering of people than usual, probably enticed by one of the most skilled fighters up against Jeongguk, the young upcoming boxer. He knows there’s hype for tonight’s fight and he wants nothing more than to deliver his best. They’re hollering, beers in their hands and cheering as soon as they catch sight of Jeongguk walking into the room.

Jeongguk is bare except his shorts, no shoes or shirts are allowed. He stopped feeling so exposed after his fourth fight.

“Kid.” Yoongi stops in his trail, turning to face him. There’s an uncertain look fixed on his face, like he’s unsure of what words to say in a moment like this. Regardless, he reaches out to cup Jeongguk’s cheek. “Make me proud, Guk.”

He feels the pressure weighing hard on his shoulders, to please the watchers, Taehyung who awaits outside, to please Yoongi.

“I will, hyung. Of course.”

Yoongi’s lips are pulled in a tight line but he nods, stepping aside and letting him resume the rest of the walk himself.

Jeongguk takes a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil that he faces inside of him. He looks up to the ring for the first time and notices Daehyun already inside, waiting for him.

Daehyun is an undefeated man, much older in his early thirties and he’s been the biggest talk of the underground circle. He has a muscular, big built that’s intimidating to any person. 6’4, broad shoulders and a ripped body that makes him look like he spends every minute of his day in the gym, pumping steroids into him.

When their eyes meet, the crowd goes crazy. The cheers are deafening. Jeongguk, faintly, wonders whether or not people placed bets on him tonight, he doubts it.

Jeongguk ducks, entering the ring and shaking out his hands to stop them from trembling. He can do this. He was born to do this.

The referee steps into the middle, blowing a whistle that causes the entire warehouse to quieten down immediately.

“Welcome, gentlemen. Tonight, Jung Daehyun will be up against our very own, youngest fighter: Jeon Jungkook.” At this, the crowd goes wild again. There’s shouts, screams, words being spurted. The whistle is blown again to silence them before the referee continues, a sickening smirk spreading across his lips. “The rules are simple and follow, as always, the same: only fists can be used. If any other part of your body is involved in the fight, the fight will be stopped and you’ll be disqualified and prohibited from ever returning to this warehouse. If either person says stop,you stop. No external help can be used—such as another individual or weapons, only the two people in the ring with their fists. No shirts or shoes are allowed. The fight will go on for as long as it needs to.”

Jeongguk’s been hearing the rules on repeat, like a mantra, since he was fifteen and had his first fight. He remembers the words, can recite them with his eyes closed in his sleep if he needs to. He follows the rules well, can get by by obeying them.

He closes his eyes and listens anyway, only reopening them when the referee blows his whistle and the fight has officially started.

Jeongguk knows how Daehyun fights. He’s watched the man’s fights enough times to observe and take notes of his technique. It’s important to know your enemies dirty secrets. Daehyun likes to go straight in and it’s no surprise that’s how he starts, taking quick steps forward and extending his fist forward, that Jeongguk blocks.

Whereas Daehyun likes to be intense about his boxing, throwing sharp and fast punches—Jeongguk is the opposite. He allows the opposing fighter to start, he allows the other man have the first, second or even fifth punch. He waits, he uses strategy to deliver careful punches that’ll wear the other man out. He conserves his energy and comes out on top, at the end of it.

Unsurprisingly, Daehyun’s advancing forward again and this time, Jeongguk isn’t quick enough. His fists strike forward, catching him right on his jawline. Jeongguk staggers back from the force of the punch, spitting out the built up saliva in his mouth.

Daehyun may be clever, and undefeated but Jeongguk’s cleverer. He knows how to fight effectively rather than attempting to put on a show for the crowd. He rather win than display unnecessary skills.

That’s how Jeongguk throws the first punch, skillfully so. It’s a long-range punch, catching Daehyun on his eye when he least expects it. Daehyun is momentarily dazed which allows Jeongguk to punch him again, twice, thrice before he steps back and recollects his energy, allow Daehyun to reel from the quick assault.

Stay quick on your feet. Don’t waste your stamina. Throw a punch, then back off and conserve your energy. Think carefully about every fucking punch, Guk and for the love of God, don’t think about putting on a show. Just fucking win.

Yoongi’s words ring loud and clear to him, playing back on a loop continuously. He remembers every rule the older man ever taught him and he treasures it, lives by them. He can just feel Yoongi’s proud, wide grin from where he stands by the ring.

Daehyun’s furious. His calculated look has been wiped off, replaced by the anger and determination that Jeongguk recognises all too well. He’s running forward and catching Jeongguk off guard, delivering a harsh uppercut that’s he not expecting, followed by a several hard jabs.

It completely disorientates Jeongguk for a minute, blackness filling his vision as he steps back, body shaking. He can hear Yoongi yelling faintly in the background, the words directed towards him to compose himself and get his head back in the game. Daehyun’s stepping forward, seemingly looking forward to take advantage of his fallen state to continue his assault—but Jeongguk snaps his head up, moving forward and jabbing him hard enough for Daehyun to be rendered speechless.

Jeongguk groans. He’s still hazy from the spots of pain that explode within his body, tilting his head back as he recollects himself.

Daehyun looks more intent than before, lips curling in fury as he moves forward to continue punching.

The hook that he delivers to Jeongguk is carefully blocked, he returns with two jabs that causes Daehyun to fall back. As predicted by Yoongi, Daehyun’s tiring himself out. He keeps running forward to punch but not thinking out what he’s doing, or why. He’s trying to take advantage of every spare moment whereas Jeongguk’s taking a step back and allowing his stamina to stay up.

The end happens quickly.

Daehyun catches him off guard with a cross punch and Jeongguk’s countering it with a straight jab. He pours all his lasting energy into the punch, right on Daehyun’s face a few times and then Daehyun falls back. Jeongguk keeps going, though. He keeps punching, guarding his own face at the same time.

He keeps going until there’s blood spraying out of Daehyun’s nose, dripping to the floor.

The sight of blood electrifies Jeongguk. It’s a clear sign that he’s winning, that he’s ahead of the game and he has his enemy incapacitated. The violence that once used to terrify him now is his companion.

The crimson coloured thick liquid stains his own chest and even as Daehyun’s crying out for mercy, Jeongguk keeps going.

Daehyun falls to his knees, falling back, defeated by the punches and the whistle is blown.

He’s won.

Jeongguk blinks, coming back to reality as he registers his surrounding. The people are chanting his name and as he glances around, he notices Yoongi standing by the ring with a smile that's delighted, proud.

The referee steps back into the ring, holding Jeongguk’s arm up in victory.

“The winner of tonight’s fight is Jeon Jeongguk!”

The crowd act like Barbican, cheering so loud that it rings in Jeongguk’s ear but he can’t even find it within himself to complain. They’re cheering for him and it’s enough to boost his mood, if he isn’t already elevated.

The crowd starts to disperse quickly after that, edging towards the bar to order more beer and anticipate the next match in an hour. Jeongguk nods at the referee when a stash of notes, tucked carefully into an envelope, is handed to him and he climbs out of the ring, making his way back to Yoongi.

“Guk!” Yoongi calls for him, hints of pride peeking in through his tone. He immediately embraces Jeongguk, tightening his arms around him. He winces, still reeling from the punches he took from Daehyun but easily gives in. “You fucking smashed it. I knew you could it! I’m so proud!”

Jeongguk’s grinning when he gently detangles himself from Yoongi, a flush spreading across his cheeks from praise. No one words will matter to him like Yoongi’s does.

“Thanks, hyung. I couldn’t of done it without you.”

Yoongi nods—he knows it’s the truth—then he guides them back to the dressing room.

Once the blood is wiped off Jeongguk’s skin and he’s taken a shower, changed back to his normal attire, they leave the basement of the warehouse. They never stay around to watch the other fights, only come to do what they need to and then leave.

Yoongi’s wearing a smile that looks it can’t be wiped off, even if he tries which only aids to Jeongguk’s cheerful mood too. Winning is always a good feeling. He feels high just off the sensation, from the victory, from the envelope full of money he holds to celebrate his win tonight.

As they emerge from the murky warehouse, he spots Taehyung outside.

Upon their eyes meeting, Taehyung’s breaking out to a run to Jeongguk. He accommodates his best friend’s body, opening up his arms so Taehyung can fall into them. He picks Taehyung up, twirling him around in the air. He feels giddy and his system is heightened, every part of his body enlightened.

Taehyung’s squealing as he steps back on the ground, smiling.

“Did you win?!”

Jeongguk nods as he raises the envelope. “You fucking bet I did.”

“Fuck, yes!” Taehyung’s smiling so wide, it looks painful. He fist pumps the air, grinning back at Jeongguk. “How was it? Are you hurt?” He looks to Yoongi.” Is he hurt, because there’s a first aid kit—”

“Taehyung,” he cuts him off with a laugh. “I’m fine. Minor punches.”

“He fucked up Daehyun bad. There was blood,” Yoongi announces in a boastful tone.

“Really!” Taehyung’s eyes fill with pleasure—only he would get thrilled by the mention of blood, and it’s why Jeongguk loves him. “Fuck, yes. I wish I could’ve seen it, fuck.”

One of the most important rules of the underground fighting circle is that it is to remain a secret. It’s an illegal, secret organisation and the founders wants no one to find out about it. No recording, no pictures and absolutely no evidence of the fight is to remain whatsoever.

Taehyung’s never seen Jeongguk in action. He’s seen him during trainings, when he hits the pads that Yoongi holds up or when he works on the punching bag. But it’s only a glimpse of what Jeongguk’s like in the match, in his element.

“One day,” Jeongguk promises him, anyway. He throws an arm around Taehyung’s shoulder, bringing him closer. “One day.”

Taehyung leans into the touch, eyes lighting up.

“C’mon. We’re not going home.”

He raises a brow, letting out a laugh. “No? We’re not? Where are we going?”

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Taehyung drawls as they walk towards the car in each other’s arms, a smirk spreading across his lips. “It starts at the bar, and ends at the strip club.”

The grasp on his hip is too tight, bordering onto painful.

Jimin knows, come tomorrow, there’ll be marks left there. It’ll be an ugly, furious dark purple that’ll be hard to cover up even with his expensive makeup. He knows tomorrow, he’ll be left with physical reminders of tonight and it’s enough to make him feel sick.

Usually, Jimin’s policy is no marks. Whatsoever. He doesn’t like to look at the marks the next morning, he despises being reminded of how he chooses to fund for himself out of helplessness. He prefers his night work to remain hidden, only to be revealed for the dark sky and the moon yet, sometimes, there’s a lingering presence and it’s coming up more often than not because his clients think he’s vulnerable, too weak to fight back.

On any other occasion, Jimin would voice his concerns. He’d be up and off the client immediately, scolding them for breaking the rules which would normally result in a physical altercation and more bruises. But tonight, he can’t afford to do that. Tonight, he needs the money.

He’s tired of Hoseok tolerating his excuses, giving him extended deadlines for the rent payments. He’s tired of Namjoon’s gentle, sympathetic gazes when they let him off for another late payment and contribute by putting more money to cover Jimin’s half.

Tonight, he’s going to bring back the right amount.

So, he sucks it up. He breathes through the sharp pain when the man thrusts into him, barely prepped and shuts his eyes tightly when the fingernails dig harder into his hips, hard enough to draw blood.

It’s been four months since Jimin went seeking out a job at the strip club in Itaewon. It had been a day of desperation. When the men had approached him the alleyway, holding him up against the wall and spitting the words on his face. Are you Park’s son? You owe us. Jimin curses his father’s addiction to gambling, which he repays for every single day. That, aided with his university fees, his bills and the rent. The need for money, fast, had led him to the club. It had been a last resort.

The club is owned by the same men who want Jimin’s father dead, the same men that he owes millions of won to. It’s no doubt that Jimin isn’t protected by the manager, by the workers here. If anything, they want Jimin to suffer for repayment.

He understands the job well. You smile at a man, you talk with them and utter a few sultry, flirty words and they’ll pay up. They’re weak and Jimin uses them like prey. Some are exceptions and they pay extra, enough for the private room where the sex ensues.

The man is rough with Jimin and it’s clear he’s drawing closer to his orgasm, if his jagged breathing and his erratic thrusting is any indicator. Jimin can’t help but feel the sense of relief rush through him. It’s nearly over.

He pours every ounce of arousal to his own cock, willing it to stir and come alive. He closes his eyes and imagines he’s elsewhere, getting fucked by someone else that is gentle with his skin and press kisses down his spine.

“You like that, you dirty fucking whore?” The man all but spits at him, fingers tangling in Jimin’s dirty blonde hair and wretching his head up.

Jimin lets out a cry at the sudden, unexpected sensation that forces his neck to stretch in an uncomfortable position. He squeezes his eyes harder, breathing through the sting on his scalp when he realises the man is waiting for an answer.

“Y-yeah. I do.” He forces through clenched teeth, voice stuttering because of the angle his throat forced at.

“So fucking tight, whore. I’m about to come, fuck—”

The man pulls out just in time and pulls the condom off, coming all over Jimin’s backside.

He grimaces but he knows it’s time for him to orgasm too, reaching down to stroke himself a few times, hard and fast before he’s coming over the table. The man finally lets go of Jimin’s hair and takes a step back, allowing Jimin to fall into the unforgiving, hard surface of the table. He lays there, letting his breath resume back to normal.

“I’m not gay.” Is the first thing the man says.

Jimin resists the urge to scoff. There’s bitterness curling up inside of him, dwelling in every organ in his body but he pushes it down. It’s none of his business.

“Yeah, okay, darling,” Jimin drawls in the same sultry tone, composing himself as he stands up. His back aches but he ignores the protesting muscles, retrieving a tissue to wipe away the remnants of the sticky substance on his body. He doesn’t allow his eyes to wander to the bruises. “If you say so.”

The man is barely sparing him another glance as he moves around the room fast, picking up his strewn clothing. He grabs his wallet, holding out the money to Jimin.

Jimin takes it off him hesitantly, counting the notes. It’s barely five thousand won.

“Are you kidding me?” He’s spluttering out before he can stop himself, anger resurfacing as he clutches onto the money. “That's it?”

It’s an insult. Jimin’s not cut out for this. He isn’t made to do this.

The man shrugs. “I’m paying what you deserve,” he says mildly, disinterested. His eyes are blank and the previous heat has faded, along with his enthusiasm. “Take it up with your boss if it’s such a problem, darling.”

With that, the man’s exiting the private room and leaving Jimin alone with bruises he didn’t ask for and money that isn’t enough, still.

Jimin curses under his breath as he stuffs the notes into the waistband of his shorts, keeping it concealed as he leaves the room. His shift is nowhere finished so he hopes he can manage to get a few more thousands, just enough to fulfill the rent but he strongly doubts it now.

When he steps out to the club, fresh bruises painting his skin, he notices the bustle has increased. There’s more people, more drunk than when he left and he feels nerves itching under his skin.

The strip club isn’t a pleasant place. There’s men crowded all over the place, thick cigars between their teeth and there’s always a heavy, musky scent of alcohol that’s almost overbearing. The light in the club is dull, making it almost difficult to navigate around.

He steps back onto the platform, walking down the podium to scan across for potential customers that’ll be willing to pay for him. He feels exhausted and he wants nothing more than to crawl home, into the comfort of his bed but he’s not finished tonight. Not until he gets the right amount he needs.

“There’s someone asking for you.” Jaesun instructs him.

Jimin looks up to where his manager stands, at the end of the podium. He’s smoking, eyes hooded with lust as he scans over Jimin’s body. It’s sickening how he grins when he sees the marks, the scars left by the previous client—like it’s an achievement. Jimin realises it is. Jaesun wants Jimin to hurt.

“Oh,” Jimin fixes the shorts, attempting to pull the material down unsuccessfully for how tight it sticks to his body. “Who?”

“I don’t know. Some kids. Looks like some type of party,” he takes a step forward, releasing the cigarette between his mouth and beckoning Jimin down to level him. Jaesun blows the smoke out on his face, smirking. “Go on, dance for them, sweetheart.”

Jaesun points out a small crowd of men—no more than five people—sitting in the fair corner of the club. They seem to be trying to remain discrete, hidden by the low lights but they’re intoxicated, that much is clear. Jimin analyses each person until his eyes meet Taehyung. Someone he recognises, knows all too well from university.

Jimin’s eyes widen as he instinctively takes a step back, as if to hide himself. So far, no one except Namjoon and Hoseok knows about his stripping and he wants to keep it that way. He doesn’t want anyone, especially not someone from university who he shares classes with.

“J-Jaesun, sir—” Jimin stutters. “I-I can’t…”

“You can’t, what?” He spits.

“I know that boy. I can’t, I can’t—”

“Your job is to go where you’re asked to go, dance when you’re asked to dance,” he sounds angered, eyes narrowing dangerously. “Don’t fucking fight me on it, go to the group of boys and give them a fucking show that they came for. Go!”

There’s obviously no backing out of it. Jimin tries to come out with other ways to back out of the dance, asking someone else to take over but he remembers that the group of boys have specifically requested for him. Taehyung knows Jimin works here.

Jaesun leaves no room for arguments, eyes burning holes into Jimin. He takes a deep breath and nods obediently, stepping off the podium and smoothing out the material of his shorts before he makes his way over to the couch where the boys sit.

Jaesun slaps his ass harshly before he leaves and Jimin has to bite his lip to resist the protests that sit heavy on his tongue, forcing himself to look straight rather than curse the man under his breath.

Jimin knows he gets attention. He’ll never get used to it but he’s grown to anticipate it. He can feel gazes on him as he walks towards Taehyung and his group of friends, smiling prettily.

“Hey, boys,” he announces his arrival, narrowly avoiding Taehyung’s eyes.

Of course, Taehyung doesn’t allow it to be that way. His eyes light up upon seeing Jimin, mouth falling open in surprise.

“Jimin-ah! You really work here?” He asks, or shouts, over the volume of the music that vibrates through the entire club. “I can’t believe this!”

His friend that sits besides him looks over too, interest tingling in his eyes.

His friend is really, really attractive. That much is clear. The man sits on the couch relaxed, legs spread open to ensue a natural, dominant stance. He has immaculate features—wide brown eyes, plump pink lips and a sharp jawline. His figure is toned and it’s clear he works hard for it, thick thighs and tiny waist that makes his body heavenly.

The man’s eyes scan over Jimin’s body and then back at his eyes, licking his lips.

Jimin feels a spark tingle inside of him at his heavy gaze, something stirring in the pits of his stomach as he forces a smile across his face.

“I do.” He grits out.

The man turns to Taehyung, raising a brow. “Who is he?” He asks, like Jimin isn’t standing right before them.

Taehyung, the touchy man that he is and knows no boundaries about personal space, reaches forward to grasp Jimin’s hand and tugs him forward like he weighs nothing.

“Jimin! He attends my university, we share the same classes. We’re friends! Yah, I can’t believe you work here!”

Jimin’s cheeks flush and he’s grateful for the darkness in the club, concealing the redness on his cheeks. He gently, but firmly, snatches his hand back and looks to Taehyung.

“Small world,” he says. “Nice to see you here. What brings you here today?”

Taehyung does all the talking, grinning as he speaks.

“My friend here, Jeongguk, he won an important match tonight! We’re celebrating and I paid for a dance, from you. I didn’t realise you were the Jimin, from university but well! It works out well!”

Jimin nods. “Ah. Okay.”

The man, Jeongguk, is insanely attractive. There’s something about him that’s piercing, demands attention from everyone in the room. His eyes darken as he glance up to Jimin again, stretching out his legs some more and pats his lap.

“Go on, then.”

Well, then.

Jimin has to blink at the confidence that Jeongguk oozes of, a sure smile sprawled across his lips that resemble more as a smirk.

Jimin has a job to do, that he does really well and he gets to work immediately. The music volume increases and the entire club continues as normal but for Jimin, no one exists in the room besides himself and Jeongguk in the moment.

“Jeongguk,” Jimin’s voice drawls as he whispers the name under his breath, only for Jeongguk to hear. He takes a step closer, letting a single finger wander over Jeongguk’s thighs. “Celebrating a big win then, are we?”

Jeongguk tilts his head to the side, blinking languidly like he’s trying to take in every inch of his body.

“I am.”

“Mmmm. What big win, darling?”

Jeongguk let's out a small laugh under his breath, looking over to Taehyung and rolling his eyes like he’s sharing an inside joke with him before his dark eyes resume back to Jimin.

“Defeated someone, in a big fight. I’m a boxer, you see?”

“Boxer…” Jimin repeats, raising a brow as he slowly climbs into Jeongguk’s lap and straddles him. “Yeah, you look like a boxer.”

Jimin raises his arms to wrap around Jeongguk’s neck, situating himself and getting comfortable. Jeongguk is warm and his lap is pleasant, helping to relax the first of the nerves that turn inside of Jimin. He closes his eyes, rolling his body in time to the beat of the music over Jeongguk’s crotch and letting out a breathy moan.

“How well can you fight? Mmm. I can see your muscles.”

Jeongguk’s laughing again—like this is all a big joke to him, and it probably is—as he flexes his arm, showing off his biceps.

“Very well.”

Jimin hums in approval as he’s doing another hip roll, grinding down on Jeongguk and at the same time, swaying his body. He lets his body loose. He knows he can do magic with his moves. He can mesmerise men and make them fall to their knees, for him. He holds the power over them, through his sexuality.

Jimin runs a finger down Jeongguk’s chest, feeling the ripped abs under the thin black t-shirt he wears. He moans again, throwing his head back and grinding down harder. Jimin keeps strong eye contact on Jeongguk, observing every flick of his eyes as he scans down Jimin’s body.

Jimin gulps, feeling both aroused and sure of himself even if he feels a tiny bit intimidated. It’s not likely he feels anything but resentment when he’s working his shifts and it encourages him to follow through with the dance.

Under the dull light, Jimin knows he looks sexy. Jeongguk’s intense, heavy gaze and his blissed expression is enough indicator.

Before Jimin realises, Jeongguk’s reaching out to touch him but Jimin tuts and backs out of his lap.

“No touching, darling,” Jimin scolds him lightly, pushing the man back with a firm finger on his chest so he hits the back of the couch. “Just sit there, and enjoy,” then he leans in, his mouth brushing over Jeongguk’s ear. “Or you can pay extra and we can go to the private room.”

Jeongguk seems to contemplate the offer but seems to not take it up, his hand falling limp to his side and lets Jimin resume.

Jimin turns around so his back is in view, backing up into Jeongguk’s lap again and sitting down. He bends over, knowing his ass looks glorious in his shorts and in direct view as he shakes his hips, grinding down.

Jeongguk releases out a low sound, something that resembles close to a moan and it encourages Jimin to whimper himself. He looks over his shoulder, back to Jeongguk—noticing the hungry eyes staring back at him.

“You like that?” Jimin whispers, loud enough for only them to hear. “You getting hard yet, baby?”

Jeongguk scoffs. “You wish, darling, you’re boring me.”

Jimin raises a brow at the blatant lie. Jeongguk’s breathing is accelerated and he can hear it, the pounding of his heart even over the heavy bass of the music. But he takes the comment into stride, doubling his efforts.

“I am, huh?” Jimin giggles, a sound he had to practice. “Just gotta work harder then, don’t I?”

Taehyung’s reaching over, gently slipping in a wad of notes into his shorts and the first song finishes. Jimin checks that he’s been paid for two songs so he changes up his movements, getting off Jeongguk’s lap and standing before him as he sways his body in tune to the music.

“This is torture,” Jeongguk laughs.

“You wanna touch?” Jimin asks, biting his lip as he leans into him.

He laughs again, shaking his head as he looks away. “You’re not that special, peaches.”

Peaches. It’s not a pet name Jimin’s been called before and he decides he likes it, he only wants Jeongguk to call him that.

The second song is over too quickly and Jimin pauses, doing one last body roll against Jeongguk’s body before he’s extracting himself. It’s a shame that Jeongguk, or Taehyung on his behalf, aren’t paying up for the private room because there’s no doubt he wouldn’t mind initiating something more with Jeongguk.

“You liked that, baby?” Jimin asks.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes as he runs a hand down his jeans, smoothing out the material. He looks flushed but trying to ignore the obvious.

“Sure. You want a drink? Least I can do for a hooker.”

Jimin halts. He reels from the way Jeongguk throws that word in his face, like it’s disgusting. Jimin supposes it is. He doesn’t like being a stripper, he doesn’t like dancing for money—especially not when it’s out of his hands, practically forced to do so to pay back his father’s debts. But it still stings. It hurts the way Jeongguk says it, the way the word causes his lips to curl downwards.

Jimin’s not usually allowed to accept drinks off his clients but even then, he wouldn’t want to.

Jimin lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head.

“This stripper gave you a fucking hard-on, in front of countless people, in a club. So, watch your mouth. Keep your fucking drink.”

And with that, Jimin’s walking away as he hears Taehyung hollering at the remark he threw back in Jeongguk’s face.

“Who’s that?”

Jimin snaps out of his trance. He looks up to see Namjoon standing by the door, leaning against the wall with interest tingling in his eyes. He smiles at the sight of his best friend, lowering the paintbrush that he’s been holding for three hours straight. His fingers ache with the need to stretch. His back burns from being hunched over his canvas all day.

It’s evening now, dusk falling upon them as his room darkens and his stomach rumbles from the lack of food.

This happens every so often. It either happens when a project is due and Jimin hasn’t started it, forcing him to exert every minute of his day to his work so he can scrape by a grade. Or, it happens when he’s hit with a sudden surge of inspiration.

Last night, dancing for Jeongguk, had been an experience.

It’s not often that Jimin remembers the clients he works for, the men he dances for. They’re all the same. Old married men, claiming they’re in fact straight but entertaining the idea of young twinks shaking their ass for them. Every night, Jimin forces himself to push the memories of the lapdances, of the fucks in the private room to one side of his brain where he can’t access them.

Yet, with Jeongguk—he wants to remember.

He wants to remember how attractive the man was with his piercing dark eyes and his alluring aura, wants to remember how good he smelt, musky yet a whiff of something sweet, the perfect balance.

It’s a shame that Jeongguk ended up disappointing him in the end.

It still, however, didn’t stop the surge of inspiration that hit Jimin. As soon as he woke up, he had pulled out his blank, unused canvas and his acrylic paints and started to work on his new piece. It’s hard when he has no reference to go by, no picture to look back at as he paints. But every time he closes his eyes, he remembers Jeongguk’s blissed out expression and he can easily continue.

“Hi, Joon,” Jimin mumbles, rubbing his eyes and smearing paint over his cheekbones. “This is… someone, no one. A client.”

Namjoon hums, raising his brow in interest as he steps into the room and sits down on the bed.

Jimin puts his paintbrush down, crossing his leg and angling away from the canvas to give Namjoon his undivided attention, smiling.

“He’s pretty.”

Jimin glances back at the painting. It’s not nearly finished, he’s barely started but the eyes are coming together and the sharp, prominent features are clear.

“Mmm. He is, isn’t he?” Jimin agrees. “I gave him a dance yesterday.”

“Ohhhh. What was that like?”

“Interesting,” he answers truthfully. “He was an asshole, though. So.”

Namjoon’s lips curl downwards, fists clenching. “Did he hurt you?”

Jimin shakes his head. “No, no. Nothing like that. Just with his words, y’know?”

He conveniently leaves out the part where the man before Jeongguk, the one from the private room, had scattered bruises all over his pale skins. He feels them even now, as he sits but he pushes away the wince, all too accustomed to the pain.

Namjoon sighs as he leans in, gently touching Jimin’s shoulder.

“I wish your father would just fucking die already,” he lets out a heavy sigh, eyes tortured as he squeezes them shut. “You don’t have to worry so hard about paying the rent. Hoseok and I, we’re your hyungs and we’re going to take care of you. Just focus on getting rid of that man’s debts, so you can stop this.”

“I know, Joon hyung,” he says quietly. “But I feel bad. You let me move in here, the least I can do is pay the rent.”

“You do, Jimin-ah. Without fail, you bring money to the table every month and that’s still something.”

Jimin heaves a heavy breath at his words. He knows, deep down, that they’re sincere and there’s honesty with every syllable. But it’s hard to be okay with that, it’s hard to accept that they’re okay with not bringing the sufficient amount of money required. Jimin’s working his ass off everyday—there’s literally bruises to prove it—and he’s trying his hardest to cover all aspects, his rent, his tuition fees and the debt.

“Thank you.” Jimin smiles, effectively ending the conversation about money. “I couldn’t ask for better brothers, really. Thank you.”

Namjoon looks like he wants to argue some more but he decides against it.

“Finish your painting. I’ll call you when dinner's ready.”

Namjoon leaves the door slightly ajar so Hoseok’s music can be heard lightly from the living room. Jimin smiles, turning his attention back to his canvas. Jeongguk is a masterpiece and he wants to continue painting. He picks up his brush, dipping it in the peach colour and starts working on his cheekbones, bringing him to life.

Jimin walks through campus, headphones in full volume and his art folder containing his unfinished Jeongguk painting that he aims to complete today. He’s making his way to the art building, to find an empty room where he can unwind down before his next shift tonight. Painting always relaxes him.

Blackbear’s music is mellow but angsty and he walks in time to the beat, closing his eyes as he embraces the cold air of Seoul today.

He’s drawn out of his thoughts when he feels a hand on his shoulder. Jimin instinctively nudges the hand away, drawing himself back and swirling around, ready to attack but softening immediately upon noticing Taehyung standing before him. He feels a wave of nerves overcome him, the first time he’s seen Taehyung since the strip club as he takes his headphones out.

“You fucking scared me,” he mutters, pausing his music.

Taehyung only grins, though. Looking pleased with himself. He has no idea how much Jimin despises how people creep up behind him, how it reminds him of always having to look over his shoulders because of his father’s dirty and dangerous habits. How Jimin has always taken the fall for them and the amount of times he’s been dragged into a corner, used and abused.

Taehyung’s smile only helps him smile, too, though. He turns the art folder over to conceal the painting, not wanting to reveal the fact that he’s creating Jeongguk on canvas.

“Good afternoon,” Taehyung greets, bowing a little. “How are you?”

“I’m okay, thanks. Yourself?”

“I’m great! I just wanted to say, thank you for the dance. I really, really didn’t know it was you when I chose you for the dance but. Um, you were great, so.”

Jimin flushes a little as he runs a hand through his blonde hair, pushing it off his face. Taehyung knows his dirty little secret, how he looks when he’s strutting around a dim, illegal club full of drugs and alcohol and needy men in nothing but skimpy shorts—and he doesn’t seem to care.

“It’s my job,” Jimin shrugs. He lifts the backpack higher on his shoulder, continuing to walk but gesturing Taehyung to follow. “The pay was good, though. So, thanks.”

Taehyung shrugs. “Of course. I’d tip well, you’re my friend.”

He and Taehyung have been friends, somewhat, for a year now. Taehyung had slid into the spare seat next to him during a lecture, picking out a box of chocolates and offering some to Jimin, acting like they’re long lost friends and talking to him like they’re related. Taehyung is easy to befriend and easier to talk to, good company for boring lectures that stretch on for hours.

Jimin’s grateful to have met him. The past year university has been overbearing and hard but with Taehyung by his side, it’s felt significantly easier. Less burden on his shoulders.

Taehyung doesn’t seem to be treating him any different, not even after learning about his secret. There’s no judgemental looks, no presumptions and no sly, curious comments. Just genuine respect.

“Well, thank you.”

“I didn’t realise you worked there but it’s cool. You dance well.”

Jimin laughs at the compliment which would usually irk him but only pleases him from Taehyung.

“Thank you, Taehyung. I searched up Jeongguks’s name on Google, he’s a boxer, right? But I couldn’t find any information.”

That causes Taehyung to stop in his path, looking over to Jimin. “He told you he’s a boxer?”

Jimin stops too, confusion clouding his expression. Did he say something wrong? Judging by Taehyung’s face, he feels like he has. He tightens the hold over his folder.

“Uh… yeah?”

Taehyung sighs. “He’s such an idiot,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “I trust you, so I’ll tell you. But don’t tell anyone. He’s not a boxer, boxer. He’s an underground fighter, y’know?”

Jimin blinks. “No, I don’t.”

He laughs before he continues. “It’s an illegal organisation of men who want to blow off some steam, vent out their problems with their fists. It’s in a basement of this old, abandoned warehouse and Jeongguk’s been fighting there since he was fifteen. He had an important fight, and won, hence why he had gone to the strip clubs to celebrate. There’s no laws, regulations put in place for the boxers, hence why it’s illegal. But, yeah. It’s always a victory with Guk.”

Jimin allows the words to process, eyes widening a little. He understands now. There’s something about Jeongguk that screams authority, just by the way he sits and talks. He seems to have everyone wrapped around his finger.

“Ah..” Jimin hums as he nods. “I understand. That’s interesting.” He can’t seem to remove images of Jeongguk fighting from his mind, how he’d look in his element. He licks his lips. “Well, his secret is safe with me.”

A burst of new muse explodes within him. He’s riddled with new ideas, now. He wants to paint Jeongguk again, more. He wants to paint the man in his boxing gear, with his gloves on and sweat pouring down his forehead. There’s no doubt in his mind that it’s a wonderful sight and a part of him yearns to see it.

They come to a stop outside the art building. Jimin withdraws his university ID, tapping it on the barriers to grant him access.

“Wanna come in?” Jimin offers.

Taehyung shakes his head politely. He gestures to the library behind him. “M’alright, thanks. I gotta run and finish off my essay but um, Jimin.” A smile sprawls across his face. “Just know, you’re fucking hot when you dance.”

Jimin flushes and he can’t wipe the smile off his face as Taehyung waves, walking off in the opposite direction.

Jimin walks in for his seven hour shift and as soon as he’s through the door, he feels the first wave of nerves crawl through his throat. He takes a deep breath, keeping his gaze diverted downwards as he shifts through the drunken bodies to make his way to the back. In his dressing room, at least, he’ll be alone to unwind down before he starts his shift.

His heart beat is already racing. It’s happens every time. The club has the ability to make him feel weak to his knees, fearful of every man that looks his way even if he has the power over them with his body. He knows, in the end, that he’s young, vulnerable and attractive and the older men can take advantage of him.

The club smells of cigars, the smoke thick and hazy around the air and Jimin coughs as he pushes the staff door and walks in.

It already feels like a long night. His bones are already aching with fatigue and the first minute of his seven hours hasn’t even started.

Jimin clocks into the system, pressing down his thumb on the reader so his time is counted. He internally sighs as he avoids people’s looks lingering on him, walking into his dressing room. He pulls out his shorts from his bag, wrinkling his nose at the sight of the material that makes him feel sick.

“There’s a client for you.”

Jimin looks over his shoulders when he’s directly addressed to, narrowing his eyes at his manager. Jaesun leans against one of the tables, a blunt between his teeth and the smell of the marijuana nearly makes Jimin choke. Jaesun is looking at Jimin with hooded, lustful eyes with a hint of sick amusement behind them.

It’s no secret that he fears Jaesun. He tries his hardest to avoid the older man, at all costs but it’s hard when he’s the manager and the co-owner of the club, when he’s the man that’s directly managing Jimin’s pay carefully for the debt that he owes. Or his father owes, but Jimin’s constantly paying for.

There’s intent behind Jaesun’s eyes, the way his posture slouches forward to Jimin. He exhales the smoke in front of Jimin’s face, smirking.

“Already?” Jimin feigns indifference, clutching the shorts to his chest.

“Yeah. He booked you beforehand, a regular man of mine. A friend,” Jaesun explains as he takes a step forward, cutting all the space between them. “He wants you tonight. You’ll be good for him, won’t you, sweetheart?”

Jimin wants to throw up.

Instead, he manages a forced smile and nods. Does he even have a choice?

“Sure.”

Jaesun leaves at that and Jimin quickly changes into his uniform, not wanting to disappoint his manager. It only leads to consequences he’d rather not face. He peers at his reflection in the mirror, hating the figure staring back at him and sighing heavily at the sight of himself. He grabs the powder compact, patting it down on his skin to reduce the redness before walking to the private room.

The man is highly intoxicated. His orbs are wide and his words are slurred, a sure sign that he’s both drunk and high. An unhealthy mix. Jimin knows he’s trouble as soon as he enters the room, feeling out of place and panic rising in his chest, settling heavy over his lungs, making it hard to breathe.

The man seems to be in his late forties. His hair is greying and he’s well built, a larger frame.

Jimin knows there’s not a chance in the world that Jaesun will allow him to get up, walk out of the private room. He has to follow through with what’s expected of him and it makes him feel disgusted, feeling like there’s ants under his skin with how he feels.

The man barely spares him a glance, doesn’t even bother asking for a name or sweet talk. He simply gestures with his hand for Jimin to get on his knees. He does. Whether he does it for the fear of Jaesun, for the money—or both—he obeys without a sound and sinks down.

He knows what’s coming yet, it throws him off guard.

The cock is down his throat and he can barely breathe, feeling it envelop his entire being. His eyes brim with tears that he refuses to shed, that is until the man reaches down and slaps him harshly across the cheek. That does it. The first of his tears fall and they don’t stop, not when the man bends Jimin over the couch and fucks him raw.

Jimin’s not prepped. Not even stretched out. A condom clad cock enters him and the pace is rough, brutal right from the start. Jimin has to gasp out loud, squeezing his eyes shut from the uncomfortable, burning sensation.

The man doesn’t address him, not once.

He reaches over with the hand that’s not gripping into his hips, digging into his bone and causing pain to wrack through his body, and spanks his ass.

Jimin freezes, eyes widening in shock. The clean sound shocks him the most, the sting arriving afterwards.

“Uh.” He’s about to protest.

But the man cuts him to the chase, spanking his ass once, twice, thrice and spits in his ear.

“Shut the fuck up, you slut,” he sounds angered, like he’s venting out all his anger upon Jimin and using him like an object, not taking note of the fact that Jimin’s a human, not a stress toy.

“You can’t—”

Jimin’s cut off by another slap which makes him draw out a pained gasp, realising quickly that the more he objects, the more the assault will continue. He’s not sure whether he should somber up and accept his fate, or if he should get up and try to leave. He only knows what’ll happen. The man’s bigger, stronger. There’s no doubt that the physical fight will only end in one way.

The man picks up his pace, it’s brutal and it hits him right against his prostate but Jimin’s not even aroused. He’s not hard, not at all.

Out of instinct, Jimin tries to move but the man is clamping a hand down on his back and forcing him down again. He digs his finger into his ribs from underneath the couch, immoblising him.

The pain is almost unbearable now and Jimin’s rendered completely speechless, not even speaking nor moving. Just taking it.

It only lasts a few more minutes.

The man comes inside of him, inside the condom but nonetheless, inside Jimin and keeps fucking him through his orgasm. Until he’s entirely soft. Then he pulls out, pulling the condom off and discarding it on the floor besides Jimin.

He pulls off, all hands leaving Jimin’s body.

Jimin exhales a breath, feeling immense relief cross through him now that there’s no foreign hands holding him down.

“You look like a fucking vision,” the man is speaking—the most he’s said the entire time. “I’d go for seconds but I don’t have the money tonight, so. I’ll be waiting to see you soon.” He puts the wad of notes besides Jimin’s head before buckling his jeans, leaving and slamming the door shut behind him.

Jimin’s not sure how long he lays there. He doesn’t move, finds him unable to do so. He’s in pain. Then the first of his tears overcome him. It starts off slow, a few tears rolling down his cheeks and when he licks his lips, he can feel the salty bitter taste of the moisture. Before he knows it, it hits him harder.

He sobs.

He lays bent over the couch, not finding the strength within him to move and he sobs. He’s crying loudly, unabashedly, his body shaking with the force of his sobs as he buries his head into the cushion of the couch to muffle his sounds.

Jimin doesn’t remember the last he cried. He never allows himself to, always bottling down his overwhelming feelings and brushing it off. He wants to be tough, strong. He’s grown accustomed to suffering, starting with his father and then ending up here. But there’s something that broke inside of him today, merely minutes ago when he was pinned down, slapped, used and abused.

Jimin feels worthless.

He’s not sure how long he stays in that position until the way his back is bent starts to ache, the dull pain registering to him.

It’s only going to be a few moments before Jaesum comes looking for him, demanding he gets back on the floor and he wants to be out of here before that can happen. Jimin doesn’t bother taking the money, leaving it on the floor for Jaesun to collect as he gets up, cleans himself up and with trembling fingers, walks back out on the dancefloor.

At the end of his shift, he clocks out and narrowly avoids Jaesun as he runs out of the club before anyone can stop him.

Jimin hasn’t stopped shaking since the ordeal at the private room and walking back into the freezing temperatures doesn’t help either, wrapping his arms around himself in the denim jacket and pulling a mask over his mouth and nose. It conceals him. He finds solace in that.

He walks down the street until he notices Hoseok’s car parked up. The window rolls down, revealing his friend sitting in the car. Hoseok shoots Jimin a reassuring smile.

“Get in, loser.”

Jimin halts before he opens the door, settling inside. He still feels a lump in his throat and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t swallow it down. He buckles up his seatbelt, avoiding Hoseok’s heavy gaze as he pulls the hood of jacket over his head.

“Bad day?” Hoseok muses with a smile that’s more delicate now, imploring. Jimin doesn’t reply, fixing his eyes to the windscreen and pleading silently that Hoseok will leave it alone, just drive them home. “Ey, Jimin. Honey, you okay?”

The comfort, oddly, is what does it.

The dam bursts and Jimin’s vision blurs with fresh wave of painful tears, his composure cracking as he curls upon himself and starts to sob. Hoseok curses under his breath, clearly taken aback from the sudden turn of events and gets out from the car. He walks over to the passenger seat, opening the door and immediately embracing Jimin.

“Hey, hey. You’re okay, Jimin. You’re with me now, you’re okay.”

Hoseok and Namjoon had sat Jimin down with a blanket, a warm cup of mint tea and asked him questions. They tried not to pry but still, Jimin didn’t want to talk. He had felt sick even just remembering the man. Eventually, they stopped talking but didn’t leave his side until Jimin fell asleep.

He awakes to an empty apartment. There’s a note on the fridge door from both Hoseok and Namjoon, claiming they’ve gone to work but they can come home as soon as he needs them.

Jimin feels pathetic. He’s not a child and he doesn’t need his friends hovering around him, afraid that he can’t spend some time alone with his own company. He crumbles up the note, throwing it in the bin.

He makes himself another cup of tea as he sits back down, switching on the TV.

He doesn’t dare look in the mirror, wanting to look at his reflection and not wanting to see his own body that he’s sure is riddled with bruises, marks. He knows he’ll throw up if he looks at himself yet so he forces his mind elsewhere.

He can’t help but wonder how last night could’ve gone different if he had the ability to fight back, was strong enough to do so.

Jimin looks across his living room, to his room where the unfinished painting of Jeongguk sits by his bed. He stares at it for a moment. He wonders how Jeongguk ever got into boxing, what compelled him to turn to violence.

Without pondering too hard about it, he makes a split second decision.

He’s not thinking straight, not planning out the consequences, when he grabs his phone and opens up a new text message with Taehyung.

‘Tell your boxer friend, Jeongguk that I need him to help me. I need him to teach me how to fight.’

Jimin sends it off and locks his phone, throwing it one side of the room. If he learns how to defend himself, he’ll be able to fight off anyone else who dares try to raise their hands on Jimin like that again.

Jeongguk emerges from his bedroom, Calvin Klein boxers hugging his waist low and showing off his abs. He yawns behind his fist, walking into the living room where Taehyung’s humming to a Shawn Mendes’ song under his breath, bopping his hips in time to the tune.

“Morning, sunshine!” Taehyung announces brightly upon noticing him, turning over his shoulder where he’s preparing breakfast. The pan sizzles as it cooks pajeon. “Sit, sit. Breakfast’s nearly ready.”

His eyes linger over Jeongguk’s body for a microsecond before he’s scoffing, whispering ‘show off’ under his breath and turning back to where he’s cooking. Jeongguk releases a hearty laugh, sitting down on the island.

“You have a good body, too,” Jeongguk says absentmindedly, picking up the stack of mail waiting for him on the table. He flicks through them, most of them proving to be bills as he sighs and throws them back down. “I mean. Obviously, not my body but damn, that ass.”

Taehyung turns back around, swatting him with the spatula.

“Shut up, asshole,” he warns playfully. He produces a plate of the Korean style pancakes, handing one over to Jeongguk.

“Thank you,” he smiles at his friend, accepting the plate and digging right in.

Taehyung hums as he turns off the heat of the pan, preparing his own plate and sitting down besides him. Jeongguk reaches over to pour them both a glass of orange juice as they sit quietly and eat their breakfast together. It’s their routine. No matter how busy they get, they’ll make time for one meal to sit together, as roommates, and eat together. Normally, their schedules only ever allows them to have food together in the early morning before Jeongguk runs his errands, before Taehyung runs to university.

“Are you going to train today?” Taehyung makes small talk as he breaks apart the pajeon with his fork, biting his lip.

Jeongguk hums. “Yeah. When don’t I?”

“Mmm.” He stares off into the distance, something more that he wants to contribute to the conversation but isn’t.

Jeongguk’s spent years, since he was sixteen, with Taehyung. He’s known Taehyung as just friends, then as best friends and now as roommates and he knows exactly when his friend is hiding something. Taehyung wears his heart on his sleeves, too big and too accommodating for everyone. He can’t hide how he feels, even if his life depended on it.

It’s what Jeongguk adores about him. They’re complete opposites. Whereas Jeongguk’s cold, aloof—Taehyung’s charming, trapping everyone into his trance upon first meetings.

Jeongguk waits for a minute, two for Taehyung to speak and declare what’s bothering him. But he doesn’t. He just looks sheepish, fiddling with his food and playing around with his phone.

He drains the last drop of orange juice in his glass before he reaches out, placing his hand atop of Taehyung’s.

The contact seems to startle Taehyung as he quickly withdraws his hand, nearly jumping out of his seat before their eyes meet and he sighs, the first sign of tension rolling off him. He runs a hand through his hair, looking distressed.

Jeongguk furrows his brows. “Babe.. you can just talk to me.”

He looks up and sighs again, nodding. “I need to talk to you but I know you’re going to say no, so.”

“We won’t know that until you tell me.”

“Fine,” his voice sounds heavy as he tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth. “D’you remember my university friend, Jimin, the stripper? He gave you a dance?”

Jeongguk halts where he’s about to eat the last bit of his pajeon, raising a brow. There’s no doubt in his mind that he can’t just forget someone as alluring, as attractive as Jimin. He remembers exactly how Jimin moves his body languidly, sure of himself and his smooth, velvet voice that whispered into Taehyung’s voice.

He doesn’t want to admit that he got himself off that night, coming hard and fast at the thought of Jimin moaning his name.

“Yeah,” he hums. “What about him?”

“He texted me yesterday morning and I haven’t replied yet because obviously, I need to talk to you about it.” Taehyung’s face darkens just slightly, sobering up as he grabs his phone and unlocks it. “I think there’s something wrong with him, y’know?”

“Uh. I don’t believe I do.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes as he opens up a text conversation, handing it over to Jeongguk who accepts it.

It’s a single sentence. A request. He rereads the message once, twice. He can detect the sheer amount of desperation from the text, how Jimin chooses to use ‘need’, instead of want like it’s a necessity for him to be trained. Jeongguk reads the words over and over until it’s imprinted in his mind and then, he pushes the phone away.

“I’m not a fucking teacher.” Jeongguk’s voice is firm as he places the last bit of the pancake into his mouth, chewing. “I’m not giving lessons to a hooker on how to fight, what the fuck.”

Taehyung halts, narrowing his eyes.

“He has a name, Guk. He’s not a fucking hooker. Stop calling him that, stop degrading him.”

“Taehyung—”

“Do you realise how shit his job is?” He presses on. “What it’s like to have to parade your body like that, around a club where everyone is drunk and wants to take advantage of you and eye fucks you? Probably even fucks you, for real. Do you realise that?”

He clicks his tongue. “Then, he shouldn’t do it.”

“People don’t always have a choice.”

“Everyone has a choice, Tae. Just like how I chose to be a boxer when I was fifteen, like you chose to study English at university. We all have a choice.”

There’s a deafening pause and then Taehyung’s getting up from his seat, scoffing.

“You have a really one-sided view of the world,” Taehyung says, tone icy. He opens the bin, discarding of his unfinished pancakes.

Jeongguk swallows. The regret slams into him like a truck, as he watches his best friend maneuver around the kitchen, strained as he holds himself together. Jeongguk has never given a second thought about keeping his mind and potentially offending people, but he never wants to hurt Taehyung.

“Taehyung.”

“What?” Taehyung looks over his shoulder, as he wipes down the counters. “What is it?”

“I’ll do it. I don’t want to, but I’ll train Jimin, or whatever.”

Taehyung pauses, surprised. “You will?”

“For you, yeah.”

“You really will?”

Jeongguk groans. “Did I not just say yes?”

Taehyung’s mood evaporates within seconds, replaced with a cheerful expression as he giggles and abandons his cleaning. He throws an arm around Jeongguk, embracing him. The hug is tight and almost suffocating but Jeongguk welcomes it.

“Thank you, Guk. I care about him, okay? I need to take care of him.”

Jeongguk sits in his gym. It’s not technically a gym, rather it’s a room that Yoongi had brought for him and built upon. It contains all the equipment he needs to train. It has weight lifting machines, with extra weights and dumbbells, there’s a treadmill and a spin bike for cardio days. In one side of the room, he stores all his boxing equipment.

Yoongi had demanded he completed a cardio day today so he sits on the floor, exhausted from his vigorous three mile run. He crosses his legs, sipping at his water.

Yoongi and Seokjin sit opposite him, sharing a cigarette between them. They’re reminiscing about the days before they started training Jeongguk, when they were boxers themselves and why they retired.

“Shut up!” Jeongguk mumbles loud enough for them to hear when they say they’ve retired to become babysitters for him, letting out a laugh. “I can hear you!” He picks up his boxing glove resting on the floor, hurling it towards Seokjin.

Seokjin catches it easily, though. “It’s true! You’re a pain in the ass. I’m not even your main trainer, and you’re still insufferable.”

“Who are you, again?” He teases.

“Yah! Watch your mouth, boy!” Seokjin’s cackling as he throws the glove back at him, hitting the side of Jeongguk’s face before he returns to take a drag of his cigarette.

Jeongguk had met Seokjin not long after he had signed his contract to join the underground boxing circle. Yoongi had taken him under his wings and promised to introduce a new life to him. It was full of corruption, money and drugs, but there was trustworthy people within the circle, and one of them was Seokjin.

Seokjin was an older, retired fighter who had the experience an individual can only dream of having. He had to give up boxing when he was burdened with an injury after a car accident, leaving him incapable of stepping back into the ring. It’s clear it bothers him, losing his career so early on, so he began to train newcomers alongside Yoongi.

Every now and then, Seokjin will stop by the gym and he’ll check up on Jeongguk, give him advice for fights and enforce the importance of keeping up a new routine.

Jeongguk values and trusts his opinion and though he’ll never voice the sentiment, he knows the way he treats the older man is enough.

“Yeah, right, right.” He rolls his eyes.

The door to their gym opens and all three of their head snaps up in the direction. Taehyung enters with radiant expression, grinning from ear-to-ear as he holds up the case of beers he holds.

“G’morning, my loves!” He practically yells to the room.

“Fuck, yes!” Yoongi cheers as he gets up, taking the case of beers off him and handing one over to Seokjin, opening one for himself.

“Morning, Taehyung,” Seokjin greets.

Jeongguk gets up from where he sits on the floor, picking up his equipment and putting them back in their rightful place before turning to his best friend.

“What brings you here?”

It’s not uncommon that Taehyung stops by the gym. Whenever he finishes his lectures for the day and hasn’t got any work to catch up, or any social events to attend to—he’ll come to the gym and watch Jeongguk train so they can go home together at the end.

Taehyung smiles sheepishly at the question and before he can reply, there’s another figure entering the gym.

Jeongguk looks up and he feels his smile fade upon recognising who it is. Jimin.

He had almost completely forgotten that he’s going to train Jimin, had completely left his mind. But seeing the same stripper from the other night, walking into the gym, is a quick reminder that Jeongguk’s now a fucking teacher.

Jimin looks different, perhaps because he’s clothed. It’s strange. His skimpy tight shorts are gone, replaced with a baggy striped shirt that swallows him whole and extends past his thighs, giving him sweater paws. He’s wearing black tight jeans, hugging every curve. He looks out of place. He looks timid, the complete opposite of the confidence he drips of at the strip club.

It’s hard for Jeongguk to warm up to new people that waltz into his life, whether it’s fleeting or not. Ever since he was fifteen and had to run from his home, had to save his life—he fails to be a nurturing person. He’s not trusting of others. The only people he allows into his life are his intermediate circle: Yoongi, Taehyung and Seokjin and he has no plans to extend the invitation. He keeps his friends small so he doesn’t appreciate Jimin’s recurring presence.

But he had done it for Taehyung. Who glances at him now, a pleading and hopeful expression fixed over him.

Jeongguk swallows his distaste and sighs, walking to the corner of the gym to pick up the boxing tape.

“Hey,” Jimin introduces himself, awkwardly. “I’m. Um, Jimin. Taehyung’s university friend.”

The room remains silent for a moment or two. Yoongi’s warily scanning his body, like he’s unsure if the man should even be in the room as he sips on his beer cooly. Seokjin continues to smoke, his lips curled around the cigarette as he exhales.

“Yeah, this is my mate, Jimin,” Taehyung’s speaking as he steps forward and squeezes Jimin’s shoulder. There’s a slight strain in his voice and Jeongguk recognises it as frustration, probably to the three of theirs aloofness. “These are my friends. This is Yoongi hyung and Seokjin hyung, both of them are Jeongguk’s trainers.”

Jimin attempts a smile, nodding. “S’nice to meet you.”

Yoongi nods back at him, raising his beer can up to him in salute. Seokjin mutters a small ‘hello’, and waving.

“Let’s get started,” Jeongguk cuts the bullshit introductions, that no one needs. He steps back into view. “Give me your hand, please.” Jimin does so without a compliant, eyes burning into Jeongguk’s. He refuses to return the eye contact as he roughly tugs the hand to him—ignoring Jimin’s wince—and begins to wrap the tape around his knuckles, doing it twice.

“Thanks,” Jimin whispers when both his hands are protected withdrawing them. “Thank you for this, Jeongguk. I appreciate it.”

He takes a step back. “What do you know about boxing so far?” He asks instead, refusing to look anywhere but at the ground, at his own hands.

“I’ve never done boxing before, so.”

“Right… but have you watched any mainstream fights, y’know, the ones on TV?”

Jimin hesitates before he shakes his head. “No.”

Jeongguk groans, the sound cutting off when he feels Taehyung throwing daggers at him with his eyes.

“You come to learn how to fight from me, yet you didn’t do your research?”

Jimin looks down to the ground, at his own feet as he shuffles painfully awkwardly. He looks ashamed.

Jeongguk, faintly, realises how intimidating the whole situation must be for Jimin. He arrived to a dodgy, mostly abandoned building, to a self-built gym and stands before three boxers who don’t seem all that accommodating to Jimin. There’s a flash of pity he feels for Jimin, the man who’s in a completely different situation right now to what he knows from the strip club.

But there’s no time for pity.

Yoongi stands up from where he sits, throwing the beer can in the bin.

“I’m out,” he announces, with Seokjin in tow. “Kid,” he addresses Jeongguk. “Training tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

“Yes, hyung.”

They offer a wave as they exit the gym, leaving just Jeongguk, Jimin and Taehyung in the room. He turns his attention back to Jimin once the olders have left, watching his uncomfortable position and he wonders why he ever agreed to this.

“Okay..” Jeongguk breathes out. “Fine. Why do you want to learn how to fight, then?” He decides he might as well learn Jimin’s reasons, it’ll help him understand the end goal and maybe, if there’s a goal, he might find the ordeal easier.

“It’s good to have some skills up your sleeves.”

“You’re wasting my time because you’re bored and want a new hobby?”

“No, no!” Jimin’s interjecting before he even finishes.

“Jeongguk,” Taehyung groans from the far corner where he sits, his voice warning. “Stop it.”

“Fine.” He sighs, picking up the tape again and gesturing for Taehyung to help him.

Taehyung hums as he gets up from his seat, putting down the can of beer he’s sipping on. He makes his way over, a smile stretched across his relaxed face as he turns to Jeongguk and takes the tape off him. He wraps it around both of his hands, securing it twice before cutting it loose with his teeth.

Jimin seems to be drinking in every detail, watching with mesmerised eyes.

“Watch and learn.” His voice is stern. He doesn’t want to have to repeat himself. “When it comes to fighting, it’s all about protecting yourself, okay? There’s three basic stances you need to learn that’ll help you stand in a way that protects your body. D’you understand, Jimin,” he says the name with a light drawl like he’s mocking the boy. “Protect yourself.”

Jimin, however, doesn’t seem to notice and if he does, he doesn’t seem to dwell on it. He just looks ready to learn.

“The first stance is an upright stance.” Jeongguk gets into position, adjusting his body accordingly. “You stand with your legs shoulder-width apart, rear foot in front, keeping them parallel at all times, you see? Try it.”

Jimin bites his lip as he looks over the stance and nods, following the instructions and attempting himself. At least, he listens. It’ll make this a lot more bearable.

“That’s it, Jiminie!” Taehyung praises once Jimin follows through correctly, nodding. “You got it.”

Jeongguk looks over to his friend, shooting him a soft smile. He looks genuinely content with helping Jimin. He wonders how Taehyung shoulders so much grief in the world on his shoulders, after losing his grandmother and being the eldest son that the entire family relied on for income, and still be the person he is today. Charming, loving and accepting of everyone he meets. He wishes he could share more of Taehyung’s personality.

The praise enlightens Jimin. He smiles, for the first time, before his eyes filter back to Jeongguk and he nods, ready for the next task.

“You have to adjust,” Jeongguk says. “Keep your left fist in front, it always leads, at eye level. Your right fist is tucked besides the chin, your elbow helps protect your ribs and body. Do you get it?”

Jimin copies what Jeongguk does and Taehyung, once again, tells him he’s doing great thus far.

Jeongguk follows through with the rest of his stances, showing him the semi-crotch and the full crotch. Jimin struggles a little but he seems determined to do it right, completing them in the end with a little help of adjustment from Taehyung who steps in and bends his arm in the right positions.

“Now, the punches.”

Taehyung nods dutifully as he walks to a corner of the gym, retrieving the pads.

“I’m going to teach you the basic punches, okay?” Jeongguk turns to Jimin as he flexes his knuckles, stretching his hand out and getting ready. “This is how you fight, with your fists. With your knuckles.”

Jimin nods once again, ready to learn some more. He instinctively is, also, repeating Jeongguk’s motions with his hands and he can’t help but notice how dainty Jimin’s hands are, how small his fingers are. He forces his gaze elsewhere, back at Taehyung who holds the pads up.

“The first one is the most popular one, the one you must know,” Jeongguk explains as he holds an upright position. “It’s called a jab.” Taehyung holds up the pads for him, a smile spread across his lips.

Jeongguk has done this a million times over. He throws a quick, straight punch on the right pad, and then the light pad. As he alternates, Taehyung starts to move in circles, prompting Jeongguk to follow too. He groans a little under his breath from the force of his punches and after a dozen or so jabs, he stops and turns to Jimin expectedly.

“Now, you try.”

Taehyung turns to Jimin with a reassuring smile, nodding as he holds the pads up.

“You can do it, Jimine.”

Jimin bites his lips. He looks uncertain of himself and it’s clear he’s never been in a physical fight before, if his trembling fists are any indicator. He pushes through, anyway, as he attempts to throw a jab.

The punch is weak. Really weak. There’s no force, no drive behind it and Jimin’s fist falls limp to his side right afterwards. If Taehyung wasn’t here, Jeongguk would’ve laughed and told him to give it up, go home.

Jimin seems to notice his failure as he looks ashamed, the red colour creeping up on his neck.

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung voice cuts into the silence, soothingly. He lowers the pads. “Don’t worry. You’ve never fought before, have you? Neither have I, okay. It’s okay, you’ll improve. You just need to stand in the right position, your stance was off and more force behind the punches, okay?”

Jimin tries again, after the words of reassurance, and it’s still weak.

Taehyung turns to Jeongguk. “Show him the next punch?”

“No.” He cuts off, shaking his head. “He’ll do the jab, before he moves on otherwise he’ll never learn.”

Jeongguk, faintly, remembers his first few training sessions. They had been brutal and with a trainer like Yoongi, who overworks you till perfection, he had thought of giving up. He had spent nights alone crying in bed, a lost fifteen-year old who has bruises on his knuckles from the force he keeps exerting into his punches. This, right here and now, is nothing compared to what he went through.

Taehyung sighs but turns his attention back to Jimin.

“Go on. Try it again, you can do it.”

Jimin most definitely can’t do it. He’s not even close, not on his second or third attempt and no matter how much Taehyung instructs, and Jeongguk guides, his effort is minimal at best and he looks tired, exhausted.

“I don’t think I can,” he finally resigns.

Before Taehyung can rush to comfort him, Jeongguk cuts in.

“I don’t have time for fucking wimps, cowards, okay?” His voice is harsher than he intends it to be, gesturing uselessly to Jimin. “Go home. Go practice what I taught you and next week, when we train, you better fucking get it because Taehyung won’t be here.”

With that, Jeongguk grabs his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder. He doesn’t spare either of them a look, knowing full well that he’ll be facing the brunt of Taehyung’s anger later, and walks out of the gym.

The following week, Jimin reappears at the gym.

He doesn’t want to. He actually fears the place and after last time, he hates to admit that he had cried. He had gotten back on the bus and had buried his head in his arms, letting out weak, choked up sobs so he didn’t disturb the other passengers. Jeongguk’s words had rang inside of his mind on a loop. Weak. Coward.

But despite it all, Jimin forces himself back to the gym.

There’s no doubt that Jimin’s afraid but he’s doing it for himself, to learn how to defend himself. Whilst his skills may be rusty now, he knows with time they’ll improve. He also wants to prove to Jeongguk that he’s strong, that he can do better than measly punches.

It helps that there’s a new collection of bruises scattered alongside his inner thighs, fueling his determination.

Unlike last time, Jeongguk’s the only one in the gym today. The room is eerily quiet despite the radio playing lowly in the background. He’s on the floor, doing push-ups as he sweats excessively and Jimin has to physically tear his gaze away as he swallows at the sight.

Jeongguk notices his arrival and his expression changes, looking irked.

“I don’t have much time today.” Jeongguk’s tone is cold, detached—not much more than the usual. He stands up, stretching his legs out as he pulls his arm bands off.

“Oh, okay.”

Jeongguk crosses to the other side of the room, grabbing some gloves and throwing them in his direction. Jimin barely catches it in time and he grits his teeth in irritation. He knows that his existence is a nuisance to Jeongguk, that it’s taking precious time out of his schedule to have to train Jimin. But Jimin’s only human and he needs this more than Jeongguk realises.

Instead, Jimin slips the gloves on. He tests his hands out and finds that he feels more stable now that he has more layers protecting his bones. He struggles to velcro them but Jeongguk doesn’t offer any help and he doesn’t dare ask.

“Where’s Taehyung?” Jimin asks.

“What do I know? I’m not his keeper,” Jeongguk’s quick to rebuttal before taking a deep breath. “Probably university.” He picks up the pads they use, slipping them onto his hands and holding them up. “We’re using gloves today so you can exert more force without fearing that you’ll damage your knuckles, d’you understand?”

It’s like Jeongguk purposely talks down to him, likes to make him feel inadequate. It takes everything within Jimin not to yell at him and tell him that he’s not someone he can just push around, pick on, treat like he’s stupid but he refuses to give Jeongguk the satisfaction that it bothers him.

Instead, he merely nods.

“We’re going to continue the dabs, which I trust you practiced. You’re going to keep doing it until you get the hang of it.”

There’s an aura of intensity that Jeongguk is oozing of today. Jimin can’t figure out why, wonders if he’s on edge because there’s a fight coming up but he’s all business-like, eager to get on and not waste anytime. His eyes are ablaze and he’s staring into Jimin like he can look right through him.

Jimin wishes Taehyung was here, knows the atmosphere would be much more at ease if his presence was around to lighten it up.

“Well, go on.”

Jimin bites his lip at Jeongguk prompting him to start. He raises his clenched fists and when he jabs the pad the first time, he learns that Jeongguk is right. Because of the gloves, there’s a sense of confidence that overcomes him. He moves forward and jabs the pad again, twice, thrice and then he stops. He looks up to Jeongguk for approval but the boy only shakes his head, indicating him to keep going.

So, he does.

Jimin keeps jabbing the pads until his arms ache from the fatigue, the continuous punches that demand all the power from his biceps. Jeongguk doesn’t tell him to stop and he doesn’t want to appear feeble, wants to prove his worth for once.

He’s caught off guard when Jeongguk suddenly starts to move in another direction, forcing Jimin to move along with him.

Jimin stops, taking a step break.

“Stop, wait,” he requests.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes as he lowers the pads like he can’t believe that’s all it takes to tire him out. Jimin’s not a full-time, underground fighter, his stamina can’t compare and it exasperates him that Jeongguk’s treating him like so.

“There’s water there,” Jeongguk tells him, pointing to the dispenser in one far corner of the gym.

Jimin’s grateful though he’ll never let it show, ripping one of the gloves off so he can grab the paper cup and fill it up with the cold liquid. He sighs in relief as it goes down his throat, soothing how dry he feels before looking back up at Jeongguk whose intense gaze is boring into his.

If Jimin didn’t know any better, it’s almost like Jeongguk hates him. He hasn’t done anything, has barely interacted with him despite a measly dance and yet, he’s giving Jimin a look that screams he’d rather be anywhere than here.

It causes his stomach to turn, feeling nauseous as he puts his gloves back on and makes his way back to Jeongguk.

“I—”

Apparently, Jeongguk doesn’t want to hear it. He raises the pads, nodding for him to continue and effectively cutting off any chances of communication he had to get across.

Jimin clenches his jaw but he doesn’t argue, doesn’t have the fortitude within him to do so.

They repeat the motions a few times. Jimin keeps jabbing the pads until he’s sure his knuckles are raw and splitting even underneath the gloves and starts to keep up with the brutal, unforgiving pace Jeongguk makes him adapt to. Whenever Jeongguk starts to move, Jimin’s moving alongside with him and still manages to keep up the jabbing.

He feels triumphed when Jeongguk announces the end of the training session, pulling off the gloves with a smile.

“I did good.”

Jeongguk turns back to face him from where he’s crouched over his equipment box, throwing the pads back in. He laughs—it’s bitter, empty—and shakes his head in disbelief, grabbing his water bottle.

“You’re fucking mediocre.”

It shouldn’t hurt. Jeongguk’s opinion shouldn’t matter, not really but still, it pings at Jimin. He’s trying his hardest. For someone who’s never fought before, he’s managed to keep up with a pace that he’s sure only professionals can. Even now, with sweat beads running down his forehead and his chest heaving with his pants, he had felt accomplished. Until Jeongguk’s words broke it all down.

“Did I do something to you?” Jimin’s asking before he can stop himself, furrowing his brows. “Because you treat me like fucking shit and I’ve only met you, what? Twice, three times in your life?”

Jeongguk straightens up, eyes disinterested as he takes a sip of his water.

“I don’t hate you,” he says. “I have no concern for you, or what you do. You’re only here, in my gym, because Taehyung wants you here.”

Jimin clamps his mouth shut, burying his teeth into his bottom lip.

“I don’t want to be here either, y’know?” Jimin forces himself to retort, actually scoffing. “I’m only here because I need to learn and I’m helpless, so.”

“Next week,” Jeongguk’s saying, seemingly to ignore everything’s he just said. “Same time.”

Jeongguk walks through the college campus, in tow with Taehyung who had insisted he came and visited him. He had never been university himself so it was enlightening for him, as much as he won’t admit it. He’s mesmerised by the atmosphere, the bustle of students interacting with each other and hanging out together. He wonders how different his life could’ve been if he had gone through with university instead of getting sucked into an illegal organisation at fifteen-years old.

Taehyung takes him through the entire campus because of course, he’s giddy. Excited.

He sits with Taehyung through one of his lectures only to realise it’s so boring, so tedious that he practically falls asleep. He pulls the hood of his jacket over his face, burying into Taehyung’s side and snores softly through the duration of the two-hour lecture.

Taehyung shakes him awake gently as the student filter out of the lecture hall, a fond smile over his face.

“C’mon, it’s over.”

Jeongguk grumbles, his deep slumber still evident as he yawns behind his fist and rubs his eyes. He glances around the nearly-empty room now.

“That’s what university is like?” He mumbles as he gets up, grabbing Taehyung’s books and helping him pack as they walk out of the seats, and down the steps. “I’m glad I didn’t end up going. That was so boring, fuck.”

“S’not so bad,” Taehyung chides. “You have to be interested in what you’re learning, I guess.”

“It’s shit.” He deadpans.

Taehyung slaps his shoulder playfully as they walk out into the open again, surrounded by the greenery. Taehyung’s university is really elegant. It’s spacious and stretches on for miles, surrounded by trees and flowers planted by students themselves. There’s something grand about it, somewhere that Jeongguk definitely does not belong. He doesn’t belong amongst pristine, elite students and immaculate gardens for campuses.

He belongs in the damp, dirty, murky corners of the world where he fights to survive.

“Are you hungry?” Taehyung asks as they walk through a path towards the cafe. “I think you’ll quite like the food here, actually.”

He shrugs. He’s used to following a strict diet regime, guided by Yoongi to ensure he keeps up his health and stamina for boxing. Right now is his prime age and both Yoongi and Seokjin are persistent that he remains on top. But sometimes, he likes to indulge and what better time than when he’s visiting Taehyung’s university.

So, he nods. “Sure.”

There’s a variety of cafe’s to choose from, right on campus but they enter the quieter, more mellow looking one. Jeongguk scans the menu, looking for something that’ll still somewhat fit along with his diet.

“Hey, what about gimbap? That’s not too unhealthy.”

Jeongguk shrugs. “Yeah, s’fine,” he grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. “What’d you like?”

Taehyung orders noodles for himself and Jeongguk pays for all the food, guiding them to a spare table by the discrete corner of the shop. That is, before, Taehyung squeals and runs off to someone else. Jeongguk frowns, looking to see where his friend is going only to halt when he realises it’s Jimin.

He doesn’t know why he’s surprised. After all, this is Jimin’s university too and it only makes sense for him to be on campus. Jeongguk’s just not used to seeing him outside the context of the strip club and the gym. Not used to see him… so normal, wearing a normal attire, thick black glasses perched on the bridge of his nose with his laptop in his lap as he sips on a coffee.

“Jiminie!” Taehyung’s embracing him from behind. “Hey!”

Jeongguk puts their food down on the table before making his way over, feeling almost sheepish. The last time they had interacted, at their last training session, wasn’t the most pleasant he could’ve been.

He freezes, though, when Jimin looks up.

There’s a obnoxious looking bruise blossoming on his cheekbones, extending near to his eyes. It seems fresh enough, red and angry, raised with specks of purple dotting around it. It looks painful and Jeongguk is suddenly remembered of the marks that he’s left with, often, after his fights.

Jimin seems surprised when his eyes filter up, meeting Jeongguk’s gaze but he swallows audibly and focuses his attention elsewhere.

“Jimin…” Taehyung’s voice is softer now as he lets go, turning to stand before him. “What happened, are you okay?”

Jimin puts his coffee cup down, struggling to smile because it seems to stretch out his bruise. “M’good. You?”

“How did this happen?” He asks, touching the rednesss lightly.

“This?” Jimin pulls Taehyung’s hand down carefully, avoiding looking anywhere but at his laptop. “I just walked into a door, it’s fine. Really. It’s fine.”

It’s a weak, pathetic excuse. Jeongguk knows it’s not the true and his chest hurts a little, feeling too tight for his breathing. He’s not sure why but it’s a terrible feeling, to see a bruise on someone as delicate as Jimin.

Taehyung doesn’t look convinced. He has a stern expression on his face as he pulls out the chair, sitting opposite him.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not—”

“Y’know, I care about you?” He presses on though, ever the maternal Taehyung.

Jimin reaches out to touch his hand, intertwining their fingers for a second before withdrawing.

“I’m fine, Taehyungie. Thank you.”

It’s clear that the topic is making him feel uncomfortable and Jeongguk can sense it, the way Jimin fidgets and tries to evade the conversation. He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walks towards them.

“Taehyung, c’mon. Leave it,” he says.

Jimin looks up to him and there’s a flash of something, closely resembling hesitance, even fear, before he nods.

“Listen to him. It’s fine.”

Taehyung doesn’t look like he wants to drop it. He has been tending Jeongguk’s bruises for years now, always keeping a first aid kit in hand. He’s always ready with plasters, with antiseptic creams and bandages and it’s no wonder he has the instinct to protect against any hurt.

Jeongguk doesn’t know why Jimin’s sporting a bruise. But he understands being littered with marks, scars that he never asked for. He understands being told love is a fist to the face, a kick to the ribs. It’s why he turned to underground fighting in the first place, to displace his resentment towards something productive. To reclaim violence and not fear it. He thinks he finally, finally understands Jimin’s unspoken reason to want to learn how to fight.

When Taehyung finally gives in and they return to their table, Jeongguk makes sure to give the slightest, tiniest hints of a smile to Jimin. Barely there. Practically non existent.

Jimin only looks down, shame on his face as he puts his headphones back in and gets back to work.

Jimin hates the bruise.

Every time he looks in the mirror, he wants to smash the glass so he can destroy his own reflection. He remembers how it felt, to get punched in the face by Jaesun’s son just because he could. Because Jaesun practically owned him until the repayment was up and the debts were done.

He remembers how it felt to be curled into Hoseok’s side as he sobbed for what like the millionth time that week. Hoseok, the loving best friend, hadn’t complained. Not once. He kept trailing a hand down his back in comfort, drifting up to Jimin’s hair and tugging his fingers through playfully.

He remembers Jeongguk’s expression, resembling something like understanding but also confusion. He remembers the smile the boy threw him before he walked off with Taehyung and how it had unsettled him.

Jimin stands before the mirror, dressed in workout gear before he runs out to Jeongguk’s gym for the third session. He looks over his body, frowning as he looks back up at his face. The bruise, if anything, has become more prominent.

Hoseok enters the room with a knock, waltzing in.

“Here,” he hands over a suspicious, skin colour looking tube. “Concealer,” he explains. “It’ll help up the bruise.”

“How do I use it?” He asks lamely.

Hoseok chuckles as he unscrews the top, pouring some of the makeup onto the back of his hand. He dabs his fingers into it, standing before Jimin.

“You’re a dancer and you don’t know how to use makeup?” Hoseok has amusement tinging in his tone as he gently touches the bruise and covers it up. Jimin hisses and he apologises under his tone, his touch lighter. “How do you survive there?”

“They taught me how to use powder. I just press the sponge against my skin, I don’t even know what it does.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “I only know because of my sister,” he explains. “This is powder.” He holds up the next makeup product, opening it up. “It sets the face like I am with your face now, so the concealer stays on.”

Once Hoseok’s done with his face, Jimin turns to look in the mirror. It does look significantly better. With the makeup, it’s still evident but not so colourful that everyone stares at him with pitiful, sympathetic gazes that he wishes he could drown out.

“Thank you, hyung. Looks perfect.”

Hoseok only shrugs with a grin, clasping his shoulder.

“You know, I worry about you?”

Jimin sighs as he grabs his backpack, throwing in a spare change of clothes. He’s never been able to use the shower after his training sessions with Jeongguk but considering how hard last time had been, he had a feeling he’s going to need it.

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do and I can’t help that, you can’t stop it, either,” Hoseok furrows his brows. “Just tell me, these training sessions—are they helping? Do you think you’ll be able to fight back next time?”

Jimin bites his lip. “Maybe. Jeongguk’s good, really good.”

Hoseok hums. He doesn’t look convinced and Jimin understands that. Hoseok has always been overprotective of Jimin, has been taking care of him for as long as he can remember. They were neighbours when he was still living with his parents and when his father went down the dark path and disappeared, leaving behind a debt too big for anyone to repay—Hoseok had helped him escape.

Whilst they still stayed in Seoul, they moved to a remote, quieter area. They rented an apartment together and have been living together ever since.

Jimin owes his entire life to Hoseok. He owes a lot of people a lot of things, apparently. But Hoseok has never asked for anything in return, never asked for anything more than cuddling up on the couch at the end of their day with takeaway.

“I’ll be fine, hyung,” Jimin reassures. “I’ve already paid off half the debt, okay? There’s not long left now.”

Hoseok sighs. “I can’t take it, knowing they hurt you like this.”

“Jeongguk is helping, Hobi. It’s going to be okay.”

The words are weak and he doesn’t believe them but he doesn’t want Hoseok to worry over him, not when he’s at work, not when he’s home and Jimin’s at his shifts.

Reluctantly, Hoseok nods and steps aside to let him go.

The bus ride is miserable and Jimin’s squished to one side of the vehicle, trying to relax as he listens to music. When his stop arrives, he barely nudges past the crowded bodies and gets off. It’s a quick walk down the road till Jeongguk’s gym is in sight. It’s normal for him to feel a wave of anxiety every time he approaches the gym, knowing that Jeongguk silently, and loudly, hates him.

It’s obvious in the way he looks at Jimin, talks to him, treats him. Jimin doesn’t understand why. He hasn’t done anything except take his time.

He has a few notes tucked into his back pocket this time, though. He’s been taking, unjustly, Jeongguk’s time and has had no time to pay back for it but after last night, a private party he attended for Jaesun’s clients, he got paid heavily and he can finally give back.

Once again, it’s only Jeongguk in the gym. He’s sitting on the couch in the gym, staring into space and his head snaps up when he sees Jimin.

Jeongguk is attractive, that much Jimin knows but it strikes him every single time. There’s something effortless about him, when he looks sweaty and unkempt like now in a loose black shirt that hangs off his body and sweatpants. His eyes bore into Jimin as he stands up.

“You’re late.”

Jimin looks up to the clock on the wall, frowning. “Public transport, sorry.”

“Don’t be late.” Jeongguk’s walking to where his equipment is, picking up the pads and throwing them in Jimin’s direction.

Jimin barely catches it in time, gritting his teeth. He’s not sure why but Jeongguk’s unexplained behaviour towards him gets on his nerves, irritates him beyond words but he refuses to say anything about it. He refuses to give Jeongguk that satisfaction.

“I said, I’m sorry.”

Jeongguk’s, apparently, done with that conversation though as he puts the tape around his hands. He struggles and Jimin almost offers to help before stopping himself, knowing it wouldn’t be appreciated and it’s unlikely he’ll let Jimin touch him.

“We’re learning a new basic punch today,” Jeongguk drones on like he’s a professor talking to a bunch of students in a monotonous tone. “It’s called a hook and I already know you’re going to be fucking terrible, hence why I’m tired. But let’s just get on it.”

Jimin takes a deep breath, controlling the burst of emotions within him because he really, really doesn’t want to lose his temper. Not when Jeongguk is as strong as him and he doesn’t trust the man not to hurt him.

He puts the pads onto his hand, steps forward and lets Jeongguk demonstrate the punch.

“It’s a semi-circular punch,” he explains. “It’s supposed to hit the side of the opponent’s head. But you must guard yourself, d’you understand? Elbows drawn back and bent, protecting your ribs.”

Then he’s punching one of the pads. Jeongguk’s practiced and professional as he punches the pad a few times, moving in circles which prompts Jimin to turn in time. The hook looks like a much more complicated punch but Jimin observes carefully, eyes focused on how his fist works.

“Got it,” Jimin mumbles.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” He drawls sarcastically. “There’s some gloves for you on the couch.”

Jimin obeys at the silent order, putting the pads down and walking to the couch. He notices the pack of marijuana and some sort of white powder, presumably cocaine but diverts his attention elsewhere as he grabs the gloves and walks back. He puts it on as Jeongguk holds the pads up.

It takes a while to get the hang of. The stance is difficult and the actual punch requires a lot of force. Jeongguk’s, surprisingly, patient though and it helps ease some of Jimin’s nerves as he begins to punch the pads correctly.

They try for a few times, taking a short break where Jeongguk checks his phone, and then they continue.

An hour later, Jimin’s exhausted. His muscles are screaming with the need to relax them, all bunched up in position as he keeps delivering hooks to the pads. Jeongguk doesn’t seem like he wants to stop anytime soon, though and there’s a sadistic smirk sprawled across his lips as he watches Jimin struggle.

Jimin stops. “I don’t have your stamina, you know? I need a fucking break.”

Jeongguk lowers his pad. “About time you fucking said it, then. D’you let everyone push you around like this?”

The words feel like a punch to Jimin. He halts, actually stops what he’s doing as he’s removing the gloves and looks up to Jeongguk. There doesn’t seem to be a hint of remorse for his choice of wording. He has no idea what Jimin has to go through, what he has to burden himself with, how hard he’s trying not to let people take advantage of.

“Are you always a dick?” He asks instead.

Jeongguk looks disinterested as he takes the pads off his hand, throwing them to one corner.

“Do you always cover your bruises up? How many times?”

Jimin feels backed into a corner at Jeongguk’s casual questioning, like he’s staring right into his soul.

“Are you always a fucking judgemental asshole?” Jimin punctuates the words with throwing the gloves on the floor, like a child throwing a tantrum.

“I think we’re done for today,” Jeongguk’s saying instead, effectively cutting off the conversation as he walks to the water dispenser and filling up a paper cup. “You can show yourself out.”

Without thinking, Jimin’s storming up to him. He’s never had much courage to do so before, especially not with people like Jaesun but for some reason, he feels confident enough to get right up in Jeongguk’s space. Maybe it’s the anger coursing through him, temporarily blinding him or it’s how he feels buzzed but he raises a hand.

“You have no idea. You have no fucking clue what I go through so don’t you dare even make comments.”

Jeongguk’s quiet, eyes alight with some sort of amusement. He reaches over, grabbing his hand and lowering it.

“I said, we’re done for the day, Jimin.”

Jimin thinks it’s the first time he’s ever addressed him by his name. He stops and snatches his arm back, feeling both frustration and embarrassment flooding his system. No matter what he says, it doesn’t seem to affect Jeongguk in the slightest. His eyes cloud with tears, further humiliating him.

He stuffs his hand in his pocket, drawing out the notes and thrusting it into Jeongguk’s thrust.

“I’m done. I don’t want to train with you anymore,” he says. His voice breaks and the first of his tears fall. When he removes his hand, the notes fall to the floor.

Jimin turns on his heel and runs out of the gym.

Chapter Text

Jimin’s tired. Exhausted. It's an understatement for the fatigue settling in his bones, a permanent state of disorientation with how hard he's been working. If he's not at university, he's at the library and if he's not at the library, he's working at the club. When he gets home from the club, there's no time to do anything but paint.

He completes his artwork of Jeongguk but it feels hollow. There's no passion behind it and when he looks at the painting, he sees a heartless boxer.

Which Jimin knows isn't true.

He's seen the way Jeongguk is with Taehyung. He takes care of Taehyung, is careful and meticulous to every one of his needs. Jeongguk even visited the university, just for Taehyung.

It just begs the question as to what Jimin did to make the man hate him so much.

The painting of Jeongguk taunts him from where it rests against his wardrobe and after staring at it for a minute from bed, he decides he wants to get rid of it. He puts it under his bed and doesn't dare to look for it again.

It's been three weeks since his last training session and his last encounter with Jeongguk. Surely enough, he didn't return to the gym and no one reached out to him to ask if he was going to return. Apparently, he had made himself clear enough when he had pushed the money into Jeongguk’s chest and stormed out of there.

Jimin's returning home from a long shift at the club, that extended beyond his intended hours. Instead of going to sleep, he had gone to a 24/7 library to complete an essay and now, he’s returning home at 3pm.

He startles when he goes up to his apartment, only to find Taehyung sitting outside his door.

“Uh… hi?” Jimin says, tilting his head.

Taehyung stands up, a sheepish smile growing over his lips.

“Jimin. I was waiting for you, no ones in so I decided to wait outside.”

He extracts his keys from his bag, shooting the boy a smile as he unlocks the door and lets them in. They've hardly ever hung out at Jimin’s apartment so he doesn't miss the way Taehyung’s eyes travel over the living room, observing the little details.

“Was something the matter?” Jimin asks as he puts his keys down on the counter, walking over to pour himself a glass of water. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“Water will be fine, thanks.” He pauses. “I wanted to talk to you about Jeongguk.”

“Ah,” Jimin sighs. He stays mute as he walks over, handing the glass that Taehyung gratefully takes off him. “S’not a topic I'd really like to talk about, to be honest.”

Taehyung's lips curl downwards.

“He's not so bad, Jimin.”

“Not to you, I know. He's your best friend but to me?” He stops himself, not wanting to say something he'll only regret and especially not in front of the best friend of the man.

It's no doubt that Jimin feels bitter of what's happened. Without meaning to, Jeongguk had hurt him right where it's raw with his words.

“He's a complicated guy.”

“He treats me like shit.”

Taehyung sighs. “He still wants to train you, y’know?”

At the blatant lie, Jimin laughs. It's humourless and sounds empty even to his own ears. He hates how he's acting, hates how Taehyung's looking at him but a bigger part of him can't help it.

“No, he doesn't. He literally hates me, Taehyung. I know it, you don't have to hide it from me.”

Taehyung looks almost offended but he doesn't comment any further, fiddling with his glass and tracing the rim. He sighs as he puts the glass down.

“He has a fight tonight. I want you to come.”

Jimin pauses, raising a brow. “Did you miss the entire conversation where I just said I'm sure he hates me?”

“Well, he doesn’t. He regrets how he acted, he still wants to train you and I think you should see him after his fight. You see him at his gym, when he's concentrated and moody but after his fights, when he wins—there's not a happier man that could be alive.”

Jimin furrows his brows and tries to imagine it, and fails.

He can't imagine a happy Jeongguk. On each occasion that he's come across Jeongguk, the man has been composed and neutral of any emotions. He holds himself together well and Jimin’s almost envious of it.

“I don't know.”

Taehyung reaches forward for Jimin’s hand, holding it securely.

“Trust me. I know it'll be hard, having to encounter him again but trust me, he wants to keep training you.”

Jimin does trust Taehyung. He's one of the only university friends he has and relies on and his tone, right now, rings with the utmost sincerity.

Seeing Jeongguk again could go either way: really good or really bad. But he wants to try for himself and if not, for Taehyung’s sake.

He squeezes the hand that's buried within Taehyung’s, offering a reassuring smile.

“Fine.”

Jimin barely gets any sleep before he wakes up at 7pm, seeing texts coming from Taehyung that he'll be here in an hour to go to the fight.

He showers and picks out his finest, yet painfully casual, clothes. A black button-up that's a little baggy but tucked into his best tightest jeans, encuitating his waist. He uses Hoseok’s kohl liner and smudges his waterline, a makeup tip he's learnt and puts on some earrings. For once, Jimin doesn't resent his reflection.

Taehyung arrives in his Audi car and Jimin wonders who can afford such a vehicle at twenty-one, still a university student but he doesn't voice his questions as he slides into the smooth car and smiles.

“Fancy car.”

Taehyung grins from the driver seat, starting up the engine as it purrs to life.

“Thanks, bro.”

Jimin adjusts himself into the car, feeling the in-seat heater warm him up as he buckles up his seat belt. It’s pleasant and Jimin could get used to such luxuries.

“Anyway.” Taehyung turns the radio volume down to a comfortable level so they can converse easily. “We’re not going to go inside the warehouse, we’re going to be waiting outside for Jeongguk.”

“Oh.” The question of why they’re not going inside and watching the man in action is heavy on his tongue but he resists the urge to ask, only nodding and diverting his attention to the surroundings outside the window.

It's a considerable drive to the location and when they turn up, Jimin wonders how the hell anyone gets involved in such a business in the first place. It's an abandoned warehouse, in the middle of nowhere. The warehouse is dingy and looks like it's near collapsing.

He eyes it suspiciously as Taehyung parks up, killing the engine and shuffling in his seat.

“He's probably in the middle of his match right now.” Taehyung pulls out a cigarette and lights it up, offering one to Jimin.

“Nah, no thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” He takes a drag, blowing out the smoke. “I'm sorry, y’know? For what happened with Guk last time, at the training session.”

“It's not your fault.”

“Yeah, I know but I can admit when my best friend fucks up,” he sighs. “Jeongguk has a heart of gold, Jimin. He's just afraid of showing it, revealing it.”

“Forgive me if I struggle to see that.”

Taehyung let's out a hearty laugh at that, nodding.

“Fair enough.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Nothing but the radio playing a heavy rap song drifts between them and the heavy stench of cigarette smoke. Jimin fiddles with the hem of his shirt absentmindedly.

The moment is broken when Taehyung’s phone chimes with a notification.

“Shit,” he says as he puts out his cigarette. “My dealer is here, I got to buy weed off him for Jeongguk and Yoongi.”

“Oh.”

Taehyung shoots him a smile as he grabs his wallet, getting out of the phone.

“Jeongguk won't be here anytime soon, yet so don't worry. I'll be back within ten minutes. Feel free to fuck around with the radio.”

With that, Taehyung's walking off in the other direction.

Jimin sits still for a few minutes, glancing around his surroundings. He doesn’t recognise the area, at all and he has a feeling if he tried to use his phone, he wouldn’t be able to find any signal. The underground circle seems discrete and Jimin can understand why, especially if it’s illegal and there’s drug dealers lurking around. It’s not like he works a barely legal job himself, he can’t complain.

He tugs on his bottom lip with his index finger, peeling off the skin in means of distraction. It’s been more than ten minutes and Taehyung’s still not back. Jimin can’t deny how it begins to make him feel antsy.

Then there’s two figures rapidly approaching the car.

Jimin jumps up when someone knocks on the car door, recognising the man briefly from when he visited the gym the first time. Yoongi. In tow, is Jeongguk who looks weak, injured and there’s blood rapidly pouring down his face. Jimin freezes in shock, causing Yoongi to knock harder.

“Open the fucking door, Jimin!”

He’s surprised that Yoongi remembers his name as he unlocks all the doors of the car, getting out.

Upon second glance, he realises Jeongguk is more fucked up than he had thought initially. His nose is bruised and looks broken, wedged to the side in a painful looking way. Blood is steadily escaping from the nose. One of his eyes looks swollen shut and the sides of his mouth was torn up.

Jimin swallows around the lump in his throat, not accustomed to seeing violence in such a harsh manner.

“Is he okay?” Jimin’s asking, realising his voice shakes.

Jeongguk looks completely disorientated, not registering any words as he droops off Yoongi’s arm, relying on his support entirely like his feet can’t help him. Yoongi grunts as he tries to open the back door, struggling with dead weight so Jimin rushes forward, helping him.

Jeongguk slumps into the back, spread across the seats as he whimpers and buries his face into the seats.

“Where’s Taehyung?” Yoongi ignores him.

“He went to the dealer for the weed,” Jimin explains, glancing down at Jeongguk. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’ll be fine. He’s had worst,” Yoongi says determinedly. “In the boot, there’s a first aid kit that Taehyung keeps. Get it.”

Jimin obeys, sparing one more look at Jeongguk and feels his chest constrict painfully. The man, who is powerful and throws insults towards Jimin, always detached and never speaking more than a few words, seems really injured. For some reason, seeing an unbeatable fallen is distasteful, a feeling that crawls the back of his throat in discomfort.

The first aid kit contains basic equipment needed to tend small scratches, no way near the extent of Jeongguk’s injures but he grabs it anyway. Yoongi takes it off with him without a word, barely looking his way as he throws the box open and grabs a cotton wool. He dabs it in the antiseptic liquid, shuffling forward into Jeongguk’s space.

“Guk, Guk, can you hear me?” Yoongi’s muttering and for the first time, Jimin can sense the urgency in his tone. “This might hurt, I’m sorry, Guk.”

When he starts to softly, but surely, press down on the wounds to clean up the blood, Jeongguk wails. It’s a heart wrenching sound like a broken record and his hand flies up to hold onto Yoongi’s wrist where he works, eyes squeezing shut that only aids in more pain.

Jimin has to look away before the weight on his chest, pressing down takes over and he faints from the sight of the blood.

“Fucking Taehyung, where the fuck is he.” Yoongi’s voice is barely audible as he cleans up Jeongguk.

“I think Jeongguk needs to go to the hospital,” Jimin supplies uselessly.

“Well, we bloody can’t! Can we?” Yoongi raises his voice only to stop when he sees how Jeongguk winces at the volume, hissing under his breath. “Did you forget that this is fucking illegal? Huh?”

“We don’t have to say anything about the fighting. We can say he got attacked on the street—”

“Jimin.” Yoongi’s voice is icy cold, threatening. “No offence, but you’re out of your fucking depth and it’d be better if you kept your mouth shut.”

Jimin clamps his mouth shut at that. He knows nothing about illegal underground fighting clubs, he knows but being talked to that always take away his dignity. He only wants to help. He may not be fond of Jeongguk but he hadn’t arrived here anticipating him close to unconsciousness, falling into the seat, unable to hold his own head up.

Right in time, Taehyung appears from the corner. He’s wearing a hoodie, pulled up and has a blissed out, bright expression fixed across his face. But as he approaches closer and recognises what’s going on, the look on his face instantly fades.

“Fuck!” He yells as he breaks into a run, pushing Yoongi out of the way. “What the fuck happened, Yoon?!”

Yoongi steps out of the way, presumably recognising who’s more superior in the knowledge of injuries and shrugs helplessly.

“The man was on Jeongguk so fast!” He explains, his chin wobbles as he talks. It looks like he’s minutes away from bursting into tears and barely holding onto his composure. “He kept coming, and coming and Jeongguk couldn’t block the punches fast enough.”

Taehyung curses under his breath as he pushes Jeongguk’s body further into the car, crawling in between his thighs. He looks at Yoongi and then shakes his head, turning to Jimin.

“Jimin-ah, can you help me?”

He wants to say no. He wants to go home, away from this scene that feels way out of his element and he sure as hell doesn’t want to look at a beaten down, broken Jeongguk but he knows it’s out of question. He nods, stepping forward.

“What can I do?”

Taehyung thrusts the first aid box into his hand. “Just give me what I ask for.”

Jimin catches the box and nods. He can do that. That’s easy and it’s the least he can really do.

Taehyung seems to be skilled and understands what he’s doing as his fingers gently push Jeongguk’s face up from the chin, observing every single one of his injuries. He pulls Jeongguk’s eyes down, observing the pupils.

“I think he has a concussion,” Taehyung’s speaks, mostly to himself. “Minor one, but it’s there.” Taehyung shakes Jeongguk gently, prying his eyes open. “Hey, babe. Babe, baby. It’s me, Taehyung. You have to stay awake, Guk,” his voice trembles. “I can’t let you sleep, please keep your eyes open.”

Jeongguk barely manages it. His eyes roll open, looking at Taehyung with a child-like expression.

“Taehyung?” He whispers, voice shaky.

“Mm. That’s right, it’s me,” he nods. “You took a big hit today but you’re going to be alright, d’you hear me?”

Jeongguk nods, trying to repeat the words but only his mouth moves and no sound comes out. It seems to appease Taehyung for the time being. He turns to Jimin with a patient smile.

“Can you hand me the tissues?”

Jimin does so and Taehyung works on Jeongguk’s face tenderly, not applying too much pressure. Jeongguk still groans under his breath but he doesn’t stop Taehyung, only keeping his eyes barely open and his head thrown back against the leather seats as he allows himself to be cleaned up.

“Dressings, please.”

Jimin rummages through the kit, finding the bandages and plasters and hands it over. Taehyung takes it off him gratefully, muttering a word of thanks under his breath as he returns to his friend. He presses plasters down on his forehead to stop the bleeding and wraps the bandage around his head.

“Your nose,” Taehyung mumbles. “Fuck, it’s broken, Guk.”

Jeongguk, at that, seems to release a laugh. “Fuck you, you just realised?”

Tears build up in Taehyung’s eyes as he laughs too, swatting his shoulder playfully with barely any force.

“Jimin-ah, there’s a box in the back with ice packs. I need you to get one for me, please.”

Jimin obeys like he’s on autopilot, putting the kit down besides Taehyung on the floor before he walks to the back. Yoongi is standing, leaning against the boot with a cigarette between his teeth and unshed tears shining in his eyes. He wonders what it’s like to train a younger boy and then watch him get beaten down, wonders if Yoongi is blaming himself or not. Yoongi pushes out of the way so Jimin can retrieve the ice pack, handing it over to Taehyung.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles to Jeongguk as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Jeongguk groans at that but he shakes his head, keeping a firm pressure. “M’trying to stop the bleeding, okay? We’ve been through this before.”

Taehyung tends to the broken nose like it’s his area of expertise, using the saline solution and cleaning up the wounds and using a tissue to dab away the remains. He grabs two paracetamols and feeds it to Jeongguk, refusing to give him any stronger painkillers.

“Jimin,” Taehyung climbs out of the car, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “I wouldn’t ever ask normally, but can you sit in the back and take care of Jeongguk as I drive him home?”

He’s nodding before he even finishes the sentence. “Of course.”

Taehyung’s hands are still shaking but he had remained composed the entire time, taking the ordeal into stride and taking control over the situation. It’s kind of mesmerising how Taehyung can be the epitome of complete sunshine but when it comes down to the nitty and gritty things, he can transform to the person he needs to.

Taehyung walks over to a much more shaken Yoongi and guides him to the passenger seat, buckling him up and then to the driver’s seat where he starts up the car.

Jimin gingerly climbs into the back seat, gently grabbing the ice pack and guiding Jeongguk up into a sitting position. Jeongguk, unaware and mostly half unconsciousness due to the pain he’s enduring, falls into Jimin’s chest without a complaint. Jimin’s heart soars as he holds the ice pack to his nose, pressing down mildly as to not hurt him but still soothe his broken nose.

Taehyung reverses out of the warehouse, putting the car into gear as he drives back to their apartment. No one exchanges any words. Taehyung’s jaw is clenched tightly as he keeps his eyes fixed on the windscreen, only looking in the rear mirror to observe Jeongguk’s condition before diverting his eyes.

Yoongi’s silent for the most part. He chain smokes the entire drive back, sniffling quietly and keeping his eyes fixed to the window.

Jimin doesn’t dare move or make a sound, even struggling to breathe from how thick the tension is. He keeps a hold of the ice pack and only removes it every ten minutes to give him a break. His own fingers become numb from the coldness but he doesn’t seem to mind at all.

“Yoongi hyung, shall I drop you home?” Taehyung’s voice breaks into the silence as they arrive back into the familiar neighbourhood of Gwangjin. “You don’t have to stay, I’ll keep an eye on Jeongguk and I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Yoongi bites his lips, seemingly torn before he nods. “Okay, yeah. Home, please.”

Taehyung stops the car five minutes later at a dingy looking apartment block, shooting him a reassuring smile.

“He’s going to be fine, yeah?” Taehyung reassures him though the smile looks strained even to Jimin. “I’ll take care of him.”

Taehyung hands over the drugs he had left for in the first place and Yoongi takes it off him, shoving it into the pockets of his jeans as he gets out of the car. He spares Jimin a glance, something that mirrors the tiniest of smiles, barely there before he’s walking off in the direction of the block.

Taehyung sighs as he puts the car into gear and drives back. It’s another ten minutes drive before they arrive at his apartment block, cutting off the engine and exhaling a sharp breath.

Jimin realises he’s never been to Taehyung’s place before. Their friendship had only extended beyond the campus to his own apartment, where they’d share a cup of tea together as they revised for their exams together. He had never received an invitation to Taehyung’s and he wonders if it’s because of Jeongguk and his illegal profession.

“Do you guys live together?” Jimin asks.

He looks down to check up on Jeongguk’s state. His eyes are still open but he doesn’t seem to be registering where he is, who he’s with. If he knew he was leaning into Jimin’s side, there’s no doubt he’d back off and insist on sitting on his own. Jimin swallows painfully and then tears his gaze away.

Taehyung hums as he gets out of the car. He walks over to their side, opening the door.

“Yeah. For a year and half now.”

Jimin gently pries his body off Jeongguk’s, carefully laying him back on the seats before he climbs out of the car. Taehyung smiles at him in gratitude before he helps Jeongguk out of the car, allowing the man to lean on him as Jimin guides them in. With directions, he leads them up to the second floor and unlocks the front door with Taehyung’s keys.

The apartment is well kept, which surprises Jimin. It looks like a place right out of a showroom, chic and bright with white walls and grey and yellow matching furniture. The apartment is spacious enough with an open plan, attaching the living room and the kitchen together. The kitchen is state of the art, with glossy grey cabinets, tying in well together with the living room.

“I’m going to put him to bed,” Taehyung says, holding tightly onto Jeongguk. “Feel free to rummage through the fridge, or whatever. I’ll be out in twenty minutes.”

Jimin nods and lets Taehyung go, watching them walk into one of the bedroom before the door shuts and the sound of the shower starts.

He’s left alone with his wandering thoughts in unfamiliar surroundings. He realises, with a start, how bizarre the entire day has been. He had never imagined he’d be standing outside, waiting for Jeongguk to finish up a fight and he also never imagined to see Jeongguk at his weakest.

It still aches Jimin to ponder over the thought for too long. All he’s ever known about Jeongguk, thus far, is that he’s strong. He holds himself together impressively and never allows an emotion to be displayed as if he deems it a sign of weakness. He walks around like he owns the place, like the entire world’s burden he carries on his shoulders.

Jeongguk is enigmatic and Jimin wants to know more.

He walks into the kitchen and observes the pictures pinned on the fridge. It’s mostly of Taehyung and Jeongguk. He feels like he’s prying into their private lives when he analyses the pictures, one of them is a selfie with Taehyung’s blonde dyed hair and Jeongguk striking a silly pose. It’s so out of character of the man Jimin’s created him to be in his head that he almost reels looking at the selfie, unable to connect him to the man in the picture. There’s another picture of Jeongguk sitting in Taehyung’s lap, throwing up peace signs and looking every bit adorable than Jimin is used to. It’s unnerving.

“Who the fuck are you, Jeongguk?” Jimin whispers under his breath. The more he stares at the pictures, the more he wonders what he did to deserve Jeongguk’s cold, unforgiving personality rather than this. The man in these pictures, who looks accommodating to people and respects his friends, letting his guard down.

Just on cue, Taehyung wanders back out. He looks exhausted and the wrinkles under his eyes make him look older. He smiles fondly when he sees where Jimin’s gaze is at, sighing softly.

“How is he?” Jimin asks, taking a step back from the fridge.

“He’s out like a light,” Taehyung says, his voice sounds rough as he clears his throat and opens the fridge. “Would you like some water?”

“Yes, please.”

Taehyung hums as he grabs the filtered jug, pouring in two glasses of water and handing a glass to Jimin. They stand in the kitchen, sipping at the cold contents in their glass before Taehyung clears his throat again, glancing at the pictures.

“This picture is my favourite,” Taehyung says as he unpins one of the photographs, observing it from a minute before handing it over to Jimin. “It was right after one of his big wins, the first of many and he was so happy.”

Jimin looks at the picture, analysing every detail before he can’t. He hands it back.

Taehyung sighs again as tears build up in his eyes but this time, they fall down his cheeks. He mumbles under his breath, like he’s cursing himself for crying as he furiously wipes them away.

“It’s okay. You can cry,” Jimin tells him softly.

Taehyung sniffs as he stops touching his face, allowing the moisture to flow down.

“I know, deep down, that one day his fighting is going to catch up to him,” Taehyung’s speaking as he sets the glass down, his body trembling as he breathes out. “I just didn’t know it’d be so quick. I can never get used to seeing him in pain, ever and it physically hurts me too. I don’t know what to do when I see him like that. He’d hate me if I took him to the hospital but there’s only so much I can do, y’know?”

Jimin nods though he’ll never understand. He’ll never understand what it’s like knowing your friend is in danger every time he steps into the warehouse and fights for a living. He tries to imagine Hoseok or Namjoon in that position and it physically hurts him, forcing his thoughts elsewhere.

“You’re a good friend,” Jimin says quietly. “I don’t know how you do it.”

Taehyung cries harder at that, burying his face in his elbows as he shakes.

“I don’t want to. It’s so hard. I hate seeing him like this but I have to.”

“It’s okay, Tae.” Jimin steps forward, pulling Taehyung into a tentative hug and rubbing his back in soothing motions. “You’re so good to him and I bet he appreciates it. You held yourself so well today, I’m impressed.”

They cuddle up on the couch. It’s a milestone in their friendship as they’ve never really been touchy like this before, just hugging when they meet and depart, but it feels comfortable and right. After the events of the day, it’s no doubt that Taehyung needs some attention, too.

Taehyung buries his head into Jimin’s chest, mumbling incoherent words under his breath as Jimin runs a hand through his hair and wills his racing heartbeat down. They watch Tangled with subtitles on, sipping on their water.

When the movie finishes, Taehyung extracts himself and stretches his arms out.

“I’m beat. I’m going to go to bed.” He yawns behind his fist, eyes crinkling as he does. “I’m going to sleep with Guk, in case he needs something during the night so you can just go and sleep in my room, yeah? Feel free to pick out a change of clothes, shower—whatever you need.”

Jimin nods dutifully, turning the TV off and standing up as well. Taehyung shuts all the lights and whispers a goodnight before he slips into Jeongguk’s room.

Jimin enters Taehyung’s room. He’s so sleep deprived from the lack of sleep the night before and the events of the day that he barely has time to register the surroundings before he’s falling into bed, falling asleep.

The next morning, Jimin wakes up early. He had a broken sleep all night, tossing and turning. He’s not sure whether it’s the unfamiliar mattress he’s resting on or whether it’s the events from the night but he struggles to close his eyes and keep them closed. It’s barely 9am when he slips out of bed, into the living room.

Jimin’s startled to see Jeongguk wandering around the kitchen.

There’s a clear wince in each step he takes, limping around the place. He looks worst than last night. His bruises have settled into his skin, his left eye almost all swollen shut and his nose looking deformed.

“Should you be walking around?” The words are out of Jimin’s mouth before he can stop himself, bracing for the backlash.

Jeongguk turns to look at him, the corner of his lips twitching.

“Probably not,” he acknowledges. He holds a greek yoghurt in his hand, licking it off the spoon to consume every drop.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Nope. Feeling like shit.”

Jimin nods and doesn’t expect any less. “I’m just going to show myself off—”

“Don’t go,” Jeongguk’s voice cuts in. There’s a certain firmness to his tone that leaves no room for arguments, gesturing to the seat before him on the island. “You were there for me yesterday, weren’t you?”

“Um. On the way back, yeah, I held the ice pack for you.”

Jeongguk nods as he opens the fridge, retrieving two eggs and spinach.

“I appreciate that.” His voice rings with sincerity and it’s the most emotion he’s experienced from Jeongguk that’s directed towards him. “So, I’m going to make you some breakfast and then, I have a proposal for you.”

Jimin feels out of his depth. He’s a little surprised with how Jeongguk’s treating him, a complete contrast to the last time they had interacted and couldn’t tolerate each other. He sits down on one of the stools, absentmindedly tugging on a strand of loose fabric from his shirt.

“Last night,” Jeongguk continues as he opens the cabinet, grabbing a pan. “Was one of my weak points but that’s not me.”

“You don’t have to justify anything to me.”

“True, I don’t. But I’m telling you, it’s a one off. I don’t even know why you were there last night.”

Jimin swallows as he watches Jeongguk walk around the kitchen, biting his lip with every move. He wonders if he should voice a protest and take over, demand to make the breakfast instead but he has a feeling Jeongguk will be stubborn and refuse to let him.

“Taehyung invited me.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes at that, cracking the eggs into a bowl and adding the spinach, some mushrooms.

“Of course he did,” he mumbles as he whisks all the ingredients together, turning the stove on. “That fucking idiot.”

“I’m sorry. I know you wouldn’t want me there.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he nods and at the very least, he’s honest—which Jimin can appreciate. “But you were there, regardless and it turned out to work out for the best because you took care of me.”

Jimin hums. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

“Not really. I mean, it’s spotty?” Jeongguk says as he pours the mixture into the pan, it sizzles to life. “I remember being knocked out but the man kept going, kept stomping on my face. I remember Yoongi hyung carrying me and I remember you. Your smell. You smell like vanilla.” Jimin flushes a little, nodding as he continues. “It smells like someone I used to know.”

It’s a little startling that Jeongguk is standing before him, making him breakfast and talking to him in a proper conversation that’s not degrading or insulting him. Jimin hadn’t expected the turn of events but he’s sure he could get used to it.

“Oh.”

Jeongguk nods and doesn’t expand upon his last sentence, folds the mixture over to make an omelette.

“Anyway,” he continues as he turns the heat off, presenting the omelette on a plate and seasoning it with pepper and salt. “I do appreciate your concern yesterday.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s more than I expected,” Jeongguk says.

“Well. I’m not an asshole,” Jimin rolls his eyes as he accepts the plate off Jeongguk gratefully, muttering a thanks. “If I knew a man was hurt, I’d help them regardless of who they are and how they treated me.”

Amusement tingles in Jeongguk’s eyes as he swipes his tongue inside of his mouth, nodding.

“Fair enough.”

Jeongguk sits opposite him on the island, settling his hand under his chin as he gazes at Jimin. He realises that he’s waiting for a verdict about his breakfast so he attempts at a smile, picking apart the omelette and takes a bite.

“It’s really good,” Jimin praises.

Jeongguk doesn’t seem to take any heed to the compliment, nodding.

“I know.”

That makes Jimin laugh, rolling his eyes as he nibbles at the omelette appreciatively. They sit there in silence and it’s unnerving how Jeongguk sits there, merely staring and watching him swallow every bite. There’s something so intimidating about Jeongguk, even when he’s scarred and bruised, some sort of power he holds over everyone.

Taehyung wanders out of the bedroom a few minutes later, frowning at the sight of Jeongguk.

“Guk, what the fuck are you doing out of bed?” He demands, voice stern. “I told you not to fucking get up.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine.”

“I’m fine,” Jeongguk stresses as he lets out a heavy sigh, getting up from where he sits. Taehyung rushes over, giving him some support and surprisingly, Jeongguk willingly takes the support. “Thank you, babe.” He leans in, kissing Taehyung’s cheek. “I appreciate everything you did yesterday.”

“Y’know, I’m always going to take care of you,” Taehyung rolls his eyes as he closes his eyes at the kiss, extracting from his arms and wandering over to the fridge where he grabs a bottle of smoothie. “You fucking scared me yesterday, you dick.”

“I apologise.”

Jimin watches them interact from where he sits, eating his omelette nimbly. It's clear they're fond of each other when he notices how Jeongguk has a smile reserved just for Taehyung, a small twitch of his lips and how Taehyung busies himself around the younger boy.

The two of them clearly belong together, platonically and Jimin is fond of their friendship.

“I was about to tell Jimin about the proposal,” Jeongguk says with a twinkle in his eyes, seating himself back down opposite him.

Jimin swallows as he takes a sip of his water.

Taehyung grins gleefully, clapping his hands. “Yes, yes!”

Jeongguk fixes Jimin with an unreadable expression, and it unsettles Jimin. He finishes the last bit of his omelette, pushing the plate away from him as Taehyung picks it up and puts it in the sink.

“What proposal?” Jimin asks.

Jeongguk opens a box resting on the island, pulling out crumbled notes. Jimin recognises it, vaguely, from the last session at the gym when he had pushed money into his chest and flushes a little at the memory. Jeongguk straightens out the notes, putting it in the middle of the table.

“I don't need your money, Jimin.”

“I was—”

“I'll train you,” he continues, cutting Jimin off. “For free. No strings attached. I don't care what your reasons are, why you need the training. I'm not going to lie and tell you I care. But I'll do it because I think you have the ability to learn and conquer. What I've taught you so far, whilst you were slow, you learnt well. I want to see how far you can go.”

Jimin narrows his eyes at the proposal, weighing each word in his mind.

“Like, you expect me to… join underground fighting with you?” He clarifies.

Jeongguk’s eyes darken. “I would never willingly help someone into that circle.”

“So, you want to train me… just because?”

He nods. “Yeah. I mean, besides the fact that Taehyung will murder me if I don't help you one way or another but I genuinely want to and that was cemented in me after yesterday, after you helped me. So.”

Jimin bites his lip as he looks from Jeongguk to Taehyung. They're both looking at him expectedly and they both look sincere, like they genuinely want to train Jimin for no reason beyond than they think Jimin could do well.

He fidgets in his seat. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn't ask if I wasn't.”

Jimin glances to Taehyung who looks hopeful too, offering a reassuring smile back at him.

“I mean… if you're sure, yeah.”

Jeongguk looks somewhat relieved, nodding and Taehyung let's out a cheer.

“We’ll train—”

“Uh, no,” Taehyung cuts in with a stern heavy gaze that he scrutinizes him with. “You're not moving from this apartment for at least an entire week, no fucking training at all.”

Jimin hums, quick to join in. “I agree. Our sessions can wait.”

Jeongguk sighs heavily, rolling his eyes as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Fine! This time, next week because Tae thinks I'm a baby that can't handle some scratches.”

He must be downplaying it because the wounds on Jeongguk’s face looks downright painful. Jimin has been hurt by many clients and he's shook in bed from the aftershock waves of pain, he can't imagine how Jeongguk is feeling and he's not sure why the younger man is desperate to downplay it.

But he doesn't argue, simply nodding.

“Next week, then.”

Jeongguk’s not sure why he had agreed to help Jimin, again.

A part of him feels pity for the boy. He clearly is in need of the sessions, completely hopeless in defending himself but another part of Jeongguk is certain that it’s not any of his business. If Jimin’s so desperate, he could contact some of the willing trainers out there who’ll take Jimin under his wing.

But Taehyung’s insistent.

Jeongguk pretends it’s all down to his best friend bothering him about it but he knows there’s more than just that.

There’s something about Jimin that he can’t put a finger on, something that urges him to want to continue with the training sessions. Even if he despises them, even if he acts like an asshole and makes Jimin resent him more and more with each time they meet.

Yet, Jimin was there last night. He had taken care of Jeongguk despite all odds, despite how he had been treated and he was surely touched by that.

The door to their apartment opens and Yoongi enters, looking disheveled and like he hadn’t had a wink of sleep all night. He has a blunt between his fingers, taking a long drag of it before his eyes focus on Jeongguk in the kitchen.

“I’m going to beat your fucking ass,” he’s muttering as he storms forward, slamming his hand down on the table. “Why the fuck are you not resting?”

“Good morning to you, too.” He mumbles.

Yoongi gives him an unimpressed, stern look that means business. Taehyung snorts from where he stands, sipping on the smoothie that he still hadn’t finished drinking yet.

“Tell him, hyung. Hit him until he comes to his fucking senses,” Taehyung says.

Jeongguk swirls around to face Taehyung, giving him a death glare. Yoongi, however, just shakes his head in disappointment as he takes another drag of the blunt. He passes it to Jeongguk who accepts it readily.

He hates to admit it but the look on Yoongi’s face—lips curled downwards, features contorted—pings him. He hates disappointing Yoongi. He respects the older man beyond anyone else in his life and never wants to genuinely distress the man.

“I’m serious, Guk. You should be resting, in bed otherwise you’ll never recover.”

“I’m okay, hyung,” he reassures as he inhales the weed. He closes his eyes, waiting for the serenity to take over as he hands it back.

“You don’t look okay.”

“I mean—”

“D’you realise how scary yesterday was? For me, for Taehyung?” Yoongi presses on though, narrowing his eyes in a way you would when you scold a toddler. He’s burning Jeongguk with his looks and he’s the only person who has the effect on him. “You were barely conscious, incoherent. I was freaking out, Taehyung was—”

“I get it,” Jeongguk cuts him off. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t ask to get my face bashed in.”

“No one fucking asks for it but I’d appreciate if you took care of your damn self, Jeongguk.”

He sighs, throwing his head back in exasperation. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes from the drawer near him, lighting it up and taking a long drag.

“Are you going to get back into bed, or not?”

“Can I just rest on the couch?” He suggests. He hates lazing around in bed. Since he was fifteen, he’s been up and around on his feet constantly and the thought of napping isn’t a pleasant one to him. “Please?”

Taehyung softens at that as he steps forward, clasping a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder.

“Go on. Get comfortable.”

Yoongi fixes himself some breakfast from the ingredients he can find whilst Taehyung wanders off into the bedroom, presumably to collect a few things. Jeongguk sighs as he retreats to the couch, sitting with his legs stretched out.

When Taehyung returns, he has a throw.

“Taehyung,” he whines. “I’m not five.”

“Shut up.” The tone is firm as he covers Jeongguk with the blanket, walking to the kitchen to get a frozen vegetable bag, wrapped in a towel. “For your broken nose. I can’t imagine that feels good.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes as he accepts the ice bag, putting it against his nose. He hisses at the throb that he feels after touching his nose for the first time.

“Of course. It feels fucking peachy.”

Taehyung fixes him with a stare but it doesn’t remain stern as he bursts out laughing. He settles on the couch, underneath the blanket with Jeongguk as they flick through Netflix to find something to watch. Yoongi joins them a few minutes later with French toast and Jeongguk can’t help but feel like this is his family. Recovery is always much easier with family.

“How’s Jeongguk?”

Taehyung hums from the other line, delaying the answer and Jimin just knows that his health has gone worst. It’s no surprise. He had been up and off bed the next morning and overworking himself, for no reason than to prove that he’s okay. It’s been three days since he had accepted the offer off Jeongguk and he hadn’t gone back to see since.

Instead, he’s been focusing all his spare time on his art. He picked out the previous painting of Jeongguk he had hid once and was improving upon it, adding a background of floral designs. The man, himself, in the painting is cold-hearted but with the background, Jimin attempts to portray it’s just a facade.

“He’s getting there.”

“Is he really?” Jimin snorts.

Taehyung laughs. “Well, he’s being a bit hard on himself but what else is new? I had to force him back into his bed, he’s stubborn.”

Jimin chuckles back because he can imagine that all too well. In the little time he’s had the chance to know Jeongguk, he has figured out the man has a way with doing what he wanted to do. He’s determined and stubborn, never listening to anyone else and doing how he pleases. It doesn’t surprise him, at all.

“Is he gonna be okay till next week? For the session?”

There’s a pause. “Yeah, I think so? I don’t think he’ll cancel.”

“It’s not the cancellation I’m worried about,” he tuts. “It’s him. I don’t want him to exert too much force when he’s supposed to be relaxing.”

“I won’t let him, don’t worry, Jiminie.”

That puts Jimin at some ease. He hadn’t imagined he’d find himself fretting over Jeongguk’s condition, asking for updates from Taehyung regularly who is surely sick of his phone calls by now.

But he picks up every single one for Jimin, gives honest answers each time instead of placating Jimin with a lie for the time being.

Jimin’s just feels taken aback by Jeongguk, in general. Everything has taken a three-sixty turn for the better. The last time they had interacted, he had even seemed to be able to tolerate Jimin and he’s not sure whether it’s because he feels obliged because of Jimin helping him when he was beaten down or because of Taehyung—he’s grateful.

Recently, his life has been intertwined with Jeongguk’s in one way or another and he’s not sure if he despises it any longer.

“I know,” Jimin sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. “Anyway, I’ll see you next week, then? Hopefully?”

“Of course. I’ll come to the gym.”

As promised, Taehyung’s at the gym when Jimin steps off the bus and walks into the room. There’s a bustle around the gym, a hearty atmosphere as Taehyung slaps Yoongi who in retort, chases Taehyung around the room. He yells for mercy and then comes to an abrupt stop when he notices Jimin, arms widening open for an embrace.

Jimin smiles shyly as he steps in, walking into his arms and hugging him.

“You made it, Jiminie!”

“I said, I would,” he laughs, warm in Taehyung’s arm before he gently detangles his limbs from him.

Jimin steps back and addresses everyone else in the room. Yoongi, who has dyed his hair a dirty blonde colour and oddly suits it exceptionally well, offers him a small smile. It feels like an acceptance into their group. Usually, Yoongi only gives him side eyes and skeptical, lingering gazes.

It causes him to smile widely back, nodding his head at Yoongi. They’re not at a ‘let’s-hug-and-say-hello’ stage but that’s okay.

Then he turns to look at Jeongguk.

Jeongguk still looks as awful as last time, if not even worst. It’s a testament to him not getting sufficient amount of rest and Jimin almost feels like scolding him. His eye is still swollen shut but the sides of his lips are recovering well, no longer cut up. He’s not wearing a bandage any longer but there’s a prominent cut across the side. His nose seems to be healing up well, regardless.

They hold eye contact for a minute until Jeongguk’s lips twitch into a smile.

“Hey,” he greets Jimin.

Jimin lifts a hand, offering an awkward wave. “Hey.”

Jeongguk gets up from where he sits, smoothing out his baggy shirt. He’s wearing casual attire but he still pulls it off well, showing off every curve of his body and his thick thighs.

“How’re you doing?”

“I could ask you that,” Jimin laughs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m good.”

“I’m better.”

Jimin feels his chest expand with fondness. It feels like an important moment—the fact that they can converse like this without death stares and hissing under his tone. He wonders whether Jeongguk has accepted Jimin’s presence into his life too and is no longer fighting it. He wonders if it’s due to Taehyung or because he genuinely, really wants Jimin around.

He doesn’t want to be optimistic so he puts it down to Taehyung.

Yoongi’s the one who’s moving to the side of the gym, retrieving the punching pads and gloves. When Jeongguk notices Jimin’s confused eyes, he explains.

“I’m too sore to do anything yet and I’m sure Taehyung will kill me if I even try to so Yoongi will demonstrate and train. I’ll be right here, too.”

Taehyung scoffs. “Damn right I will.”

It’s a little more intimidating to be training with Yoongi, who barely acknowledges that his name has been mentioned. He simply wraps his hand up in the tape and hands the pads over to Taehyung, who takes it off him.

Jimin’s heart race climbs a little as he watches Yoongi. He knows Yoongi doesn’t fight anymore himself but it feels like he was born for it, the way he naturally takes a posture that looks natural.

Yoongi turns to Jimin and though his expression remains void, his eyes still crinkle as he lifts the right corner of his lips just the slightest.

“Kid,” Yoongi speaks.

It takes Jimin a moment to realise he’s being addressed to, directly. He looks up and nods, ready to soak in any information Yoongi has to give to him. For some reason, right off the bat, he holds the utmost respect for Yoongi and the man never had to go seeking for it.

“Yes, Yoongi-ssi.”

“Pliant, I like it,” Yoongi rolls his eyes to Jeongguk who gives him a middle finger. Then he returns his attention to Jimin. “We’re only going to learn one punch today, it’s going to be a difficult one. It took Guk a while to master so I don’t have big hopes from you just yet, is that okay?”

Jimin nods. “Of course.”

Yoongi turns to Taehyung who dutifully holds the pads up, messing around as he moves them around. Yoongi gives him an unimpressed look telling him to stop before he moves forward and delivers a strong, forceful punch that makes the material of the pad bounce.

Jimin’s eyes widen instinctively. He’s become accustomed, somewhat, to boxing after watching Jeongguk during their training sessions but seeing Yoongi do what he does—it’s a little mesmerising. Yoongi has a look in his eyes that means all business, his lips pulled into a tight smile as he continues to punch the pads with such a grace that even Taehyung has quietened down.

“That is..” Yoongi draws back, a sparkle in his eyes. “A uppercut.”

Jeongguk walks up to where Taehyung is standing, also looking just as much entranced by Yoongi’s punches as the rest of them are.

“Hyung, I forgot how good you are.” Jeongguk mutters.

Yoongi looks up and smirks, running a hand through his hair and shrugs.

“I haven’t fought in a while.”

“We should have a fight,” he suggests.

Yoongi raises a brow. “Boy, I’m the one who trained you. Don’t get cocky, I’ll destroy you in minutes flat.”

They all start laughing and Jimin can’t help but feel blessed that they’re relaxed, joking around with each other because he feels a part of the circle, he feels like he can laugh alongside them rather than at them.

Jeongguk holds up his hands in defence but he looks carefree, a content smile sprawled across his lips.

Yoongi turns his attention back to Jimin.

“Uppercut, okay. It’s a popular type of punch and it really fucks up your opponent for a minute or two, yeah? So it’s an important one to remember and know, if you can do it right. For your posture, you gotta twist your torso slightly to the left, dropping the rear hand below the opponent’s chest and keep the knees bent as you throw forward a rising punch.” Yoongi’s demonstrating as he does so, his body moving languidly in time with his words like he can do this in his sleep. “As you throw the punch, you push your knees up quickly and rotate your hips counter-clockwise, like so.”

It’s a little more complicated than Jimin’s been learning recently, nothing as easy as jabbing that he’s perfected thus far. But he’s determined to learn this too. He keeps his gaze fixed on Yoongi as he watches him repeat the steps a few times.

“Now, you try.”

Jimin nods as he grabs the gloves supplied to him, slipping them on. He struggles with the velcro and for the first time, Jeongguk steps forward. He tentatively takes Jimin’s hands into his own, not looking at him as he does so and presses down the velcro clasp for Jimin.

“Is it alright?” Jeongguk asks, hastily taking a step back.

The hold of Jeongguk’s hand burns his but he swallows, nodding.

Jimin turns to Taehyung who holds the pads up for him and he tries to follow what Yoongi had been repeating on a loop just a few seconds ago. He tries to assume the position, moving his torso in time as he throws the rising punch. It’s weak and Jimin can feel it too but neither of the three men in the room complain, Yoongi only nods and tells him to try again.

Jimin tries again and it’s still weak.

“Jimin,” Jeongguk clears his throat and walks towards him. “Your, um, posture is wrong,” he mumbles. “Can I?”

Jimin nods and then he feels Jeongguk’s hands on his waist, gently guiding him to the right position. The feeling is fleeting but it still sends warmth up his chest, surrounding him and he takes a deep breath and nods. Once he’s in the right posture, Jeongguk withdraws himself and steps back. His waist feels cold again.

Now that he stands correctly, he finds it easier to throw the punches and after a few dozen tries, he begins to do the punch correctly.

Yoongi seems impressed when they take a break, unwrapping the tape off his hands and discarding of it.

“Honestly?” He speaks to Jimin, running a hand through his newly dyed hair. “You’re picking up on it faster than Guk, and that’s saying something.”

The praise lights Jimin up inside. He hasn’t received many of them considering Jeongguk had cursed him and belittled him with each session but with Yoongi, there’s no such thing as tough love. There’s just honesty. There’s the utmost sincerity in his voice and he holds an intense gaze with Jimin, causing him to flush.

“Thank you, Yoongi-ssi.”

“Call me hyung,” he says with a wave of his hand, a dismissal.

Jimin blushes some more and he feels the need to hide from the redness that creeps up his neck, his cheeks.

Jeongguk interrupts though, looking offended.

“Are you kidding me? I picked up on the uppercut really well!”

“It took you months to perfect it, idiot,” Yoongi rolls his eyes as he walks up to him, slapping the back of his head in a gentle manner. “Jimin’s well on his way to learn it within a few weeks, if he keeps at it. I trust you’ll keep it fresh in his memory?”

Jeongguk licks his lips as he looks over to Jimin. They look at each other for a moment and Jimin feels the need to shudder with how Jeongguk holds eye contact with him, seemingly to seek something in his pupils before he looks away, back at Yoongi.

“Of course.”

At the end of the session, they’re exhausted. Jimin, specifically, who has to flex out his knuckles a few times, stretching out the muscles and massage the palm of his hands. He’s not used to the vigorous sessions and after taking a break for a while, it’s more foreign to him now than ever.

Taehyung helps clear up to the gym, picking up the rubbish and throwing it in the bin and organising the equipment back in their rightful places. Yoongi disappears, claiming he has to go and meet someone.

Jeongguk approaches Jimin with a small smile. “Taehyung and I are going out for drinks, to our favourite club. We’d like you to join.”

It’s more of a demand than an invitation but Jimin’s accustomed to his tone by now. So, he nods. It’s not like he has anything better to do and he’d rather stay out with the two of them. It makes Jeongguk smile, pleased like he’d even take no for an answer, anyway.

“Okay, yeah. Sure.”

Jeongguk nods in agreement, turning around to walk back to pick up his belongings. He walks with a little limp, easing the pressure on his right leg. He stops abruptly, looking back at Jimin.

“Good job today, Jimin,” he says and turning back around before he can notice Jimin’s bewildered expression.

Taehyung drives them into Itaewon to a discrete nightclub. Jimin has hardly ever taken up the chance to go clubbing, has enough of his job and doesn’t like to spend his leisure time in such locations but there’s something about hanging out with Jeongguk and Taehyung that he can’t deny them.

They seem to be regulars at the club because they skip the line, walking right to the front and showing their ID before they’re being let in. Jimin flushes as he follows after them, feeling a little inadequate to be in the presence of the two of them. There’s something undeniable about them, the way they have everyone’s heads turning to stare at them. Something Jimin can’t relate to.

Taehyung leads them straight to the bar where he orders them a round of drinks. They clink their glasses together, saying cheers at the top of their lungs as they sip at their drinks.

Jimin doesn’t miss the intense gaze Jeongguk has, keeping his eyes fixed on him. Jimin wants to look away but he can’t look anywhere except at his Adam’s apple as it bops, swallowing down the tequila mixed drink.

The club is crowded, despite the fact that it’s not even close to midnight yet. The lights are dimmed but there’s a disco light that highlights a few spots on the dance floor where drunken bodies sway in time to the bass of the music. The front of the club, there’s a podium for DJs and musicians, sticking out with a red light.

Jeongguk leads them to a couch and table, placing their drinks down and sitting. Jimin follows after them, sitting besides Jeongguk. The couch is tiny so they’re pushed up against each other, their thighs touching and Jimin has to keep sipping at his drink to ensure he doesn’t look too hard into the situation.

He’s not why, or how, but his thoughts are consumed by Jeongguk. He can’t help but divert his gaze towards the younger boy every few minutes, watching how Jeongguk eloquently talks to Taehyung and sips at his drink.

“The next round is on me,” Jimin announces when he drains his glass, getting up and wandering off.

He orders them gin and tonic, bringing it back. They converse back and forth lazily, drinking at each question they ask. It’s comfortable and Jimin has a feeling that the night hasn’t even begun.

Jeongguk seems to be attracting attention. Whether it’s his attractive looks, his heavenly figure or the fact that he’s sporting bruises, it’s hard to tell but every girl and every boy seems to stops and stare.

Jimin swallows down the distaste of their wandering eyes with his alcoholic beverage and he can feel Jeongguk looking at him, smirking.

“Let’s do shots.” Taehyung’s suggesting and perhaps, he should’ve refused because the rest of the night follows rather quickly, in a drunken haze.

They do three glasses of shots together and Jimin’s consciousness begins to slip, entering a hazy stage of tipsy that he quite likes. He’s not fond of getting too drunk, not attracted to the idea of blacking out and not remembering what or who he did, waking up with a killer hangover the next day.

It’s pleasant and he feels light as he drifts through the club, walking back to the couch but deciding against actually sitting back down.

“I wanna dance,” he whines.

Taehyung grins as he puts his glass of beer down, opening up his arms.

“Let’s dance, then!”

Jeongguk seems to decline the offer, opting to lay out across the couch comfortably and nodding at them to go on without him.If Jimin wasn’t tipsy, he definitely wouldn’t of made an embarrassment of himself like he does when he pouts at Jeongguk. But Taehyung’s tugging him and leading him away.

It’s a surprise that Taehyung can do wonders with his body, apparently.

They come to a stop in the middle of other dancing bodies and Taehyung pulls Jimin towards him, eyes clouded in his intoxicated state as he does a body roll and Jimin has to blink twice. Because, woah. He has a really good body and he knows exactly how to move it.

“C’mon, Jiminie!” Taehyung yells over the music.

Jimin nods. He’s a stripper so naturally, he knows what to do. He knows what angle makes his body look best. He grinds his hips down on Taehyung, smirking up to how the boy’s smile slackens in shock.

They lazily dance upon each other and when a man comes to approach Taehyung, Jimin bats the man’s hand away.

“He’s dancing with me,” Jimin tells the man.

The man grunts under his breath, rolling his eyes as he stalks away and they resume their dancing.

Jimin’s not sure how long they stay just like that, their bodies rolling upon each other. Jimin turns around and bends over, shaking his ass in Taehyung’s view which prompts the other man to let out a loud laugh and settle his hand over Jimin’s hips, squeezing. It’s all good fun but when Jimin swirls around, he notices Jeongguk standing there.

“Having all the fun without me?” Jeongguk asks but he doesn’t sound mad. Rather, he’s smirking and arching his brow in a precise way that makes Jimin shudder.

“I invited you before.”

“Can I take up your invitation now, then?”

Jimin tilts his head as if he’s contemplating. It has to be the alcohol that helps him feel so loose, able to be a completely different person around Jeongguk but he nods. He reaches over for Jeongguk, grabbing his waist and pulling him closer.

With Jimin sandwiched in the middle, Taehyung dances on him from behind. But Jimin’s eyes are fixed on the man before him.

Jeongguk moves with purpose and intent. There’s a dark look in his eyes, pupils blown and Jimin wonders if he had escaped to get high because he wouldn’t be entirely surprised with the man’s current state. Jeongguk let's out a groan at a particular body roll from Jimin, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut.

“You’re good at this,” Jeongguk compliments, having to raise his voice over the volume.

Jimin laughs, eyes crinkling shut. “I dance for a living.”

“Yet, you only enjoy it when you’re here. With me and Taehyung.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Jeongguk smiles at that and then he’s grabbing Jimin’s hip, bringing him impossibly closer so there’s no space left between them. Jimin gasps in surprise but accommodates to the new position easily, biting his lip when Jeongguk buries his nose in his neck. He feels his pulse quickening and he has to compose himself before it becomes pathetically apparent.

Jeongguk speaks heavily on his neck, whispering. “There’s someone staring at you.”

“Yeah?” Jimin breathes out. “Who is it?”

Taehyung has long left them, opting to dance with another man in one corner of the dancefloor. It’s just him and Jeongguk now, pressed up against each other and Jimin’s sure his cock is stirring in his jeans.

“Dunno.” Jeongguk takes a minute to press his teeth down harshly on his neck, like he’s giving a warning to the man who’s staring before he withdraws himself. “He’s gone now.”

Jimin rolls his eyes and acts his hardest not to act affected, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair.

“I’m going to grab another drink.” He excuses himself, wandering away from Jeongguk before he comes in his pants.

The bartender fixes him a glass of water, giving him an ‘are you serious?’ look when Jimin tries to order another drink. He wants to argue that he’s not that drunk but accepts the water nonetheless, sitting on the stool and sips at his glass, willing his heart race to climb down.

After ten minutes, or so, Taehyung returns.

“Hey, we’re heading home now. C’mon,” he reaches out for Jimin’s hand, that he takes.

“You’re too drunk to drive.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning to drive. I’ll come back tomorrow to collect it.”

The three of them hail an Uber and sit in the back together. It’s a tight space so Taehyung ends up sprawled in Jeongguk’s lap, head against his chest.

Jimin can’t help but feel buzzed. Can’t help but feel content amongst the three of them.

Jimin takes a shower at Jeongguk’s gym after another training session.

It had been an intense session but rewarding. Jeongguk had been somewhat patient with him. His previous bite in his words has disappeared and has been replaced with words that are straight-forward, honest but not in an offensive manner. There’s still a lot Jeongguk can learn and change but Jimin imagines it just wouldn’t be Jeongguk if he transformed into a soft man who praises him for each punch.

As always, Jeongguk works him hard. The shower calms him down, the pressure easing how tight and sore his muscles feel. When he emerges from the shower and changes into a fresh pair of clothes, Jeongguk’s waiting for him by the door.

“Feel better now?” Jeongguk questions absentmindedly, focusing on gathering his belongings whilst he twirls his car keys around his fingers.

It’s been two weeks since Jeongguk’s disastrous fight and his bruises have finally begun to fade, his eye resuming back to it’s normal size and his nose fully healed. He looks like himself again, strikingly beautiful.

“Much better,” Jimin hums. “I’m sure I’ll have a few pulled muscles, though.”

“Good. Maybe that’ll teach you to stretch before you fucking exercise,” Jeongguk mumbles.

They step out of the gym as Jeongguk locks the door, pushing the keys into his pocket.

“Well, thanks, then,” Jimin rubs the back of his head sheepishly as they stand before each other before they depart ways. He’s holding onto his art folder in his hand, his glasses back over his eyes so he can see clearly. “I’ll see you in a few days, again?”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Um… the bus stop?”

Jeongguk furrows his brow. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s late,” he gestures to the night sky. “I’ll give you a ride.”

Jimin bites his lip and he almost refuses before deciding against it. It’s probably a good idea to get a lift considering it is late and at this time, it’s always the creepy older men who ride the bus and stare Jimin up and down. He’d rather avoid that. Not to mention, he’s carrying a heavy art folder with all his upcoming projects that are due soon.

“Okay.”

Jeongguk leads them into a quieter road until they stop before a grey Porsche macan. Jimin halts, observing the beautiful car in all its glory. Whereas Taehyung’s Audi is small, this car is larger and somehow, is the perfect fit for Jeongguk.

He unlocks his car and sits down, prompting Jimin to hurry along and sit down in the passenger seat. He places his art folder on the floor, between his legs.

Jeongguk starts the car—which gently starts up, barely any sputtering because it’s expensive, which makes sense—and then he’s putting the car into gear, pulling off the pavement and beginning to drive out of the area.

“Where do you live?” Jeongguk asks, reaching over to turn on the radio but keeping it at a comfortable, low volume.

“Not far. Just fifteen minutes from yours.”

After that, they don’t speak. It’s not like Jimin anticipated any other conversation to be initiated, there’s not much to say between them and they’re not really friends yet. They have a strictly business relationship where they meet two to three times a week in the gym, share a session together before they part ways.

The dance they shared together in the club was a different story and truthfully, Jimin hasn’t been able to get it out of his mind.

He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about how Jeongguk’s eyes darken considerably when he’s aroused, how lustful his lips are and how thick his thighs are. Every part of him is, undeniably, attractive. It’s unfair.

Jeongguk drives fast and dangerously, he waves through the lanes and each time a car gets too close, he mutters an apology under his breath.

When they arrive outside Jimin’s block, he cuts off the engine and they sit in silence for a moment or two.

“Well.” Jimin drawls out, grabbing his folder. “Thanks for the drive and—”

“Wait,” Jeongguk cuts him off, looking over to him. “What’s that?” He gestures to the folder.

“This?” He holds it up. “It’s just my uni work, my art work.”

That seems to confuse Jeongguk as he knits his brows together.

“Art work?”

“Um, yeah. I’m an art major?” Jimin says like it’s the most obvious thing.

“I didn’t know that.”

“Ah.” Jimin hums as he gets comfortable in his seat again, having a gut feeling that he’s not going anywhere yet. “Yeah, I’m an artist.”

Jeongguk seems fascinated, blinking rapidly as he processes this.

“Can I see some of your work?”

Jimin blinks in surprise, reeling. He hadn’t expected the other man to ask to see some of his work. Truthfully, he’s not used to anyone taking an interest in his life let alone someone like Jeongguk. He pauses, searching his face only to find Jeongguk sincerely wants to see. He licks his lip, nodding.

“Sure.”

He’s grateful that he left the painting of Jeongguk at home, stashed inside his wardrobe until he finishes it. He still has the flower background to complete.

Jimin unzips the folder, carefully selecting out a few pieces that he’s sure is a winner with everyone and the ones his professors have specifically praised. He knows he’s good at what he does but he’s still insecure, especially to show someone like Jeongguk.

But Jeongguk looks genuinely curious, waiting patiently from the driver’s seat.

“Um, this one is of my mother…” Jimin says carefully, unsure how much he wants to tell the other man about his family. It’s still a sore topic, something that he’s never had the time to recover from. It’s a topic that he tries to bury deep within himself. Regardless, Jimin tentatively hands the canvas over.

Jeongguk accepts it off him gratefully. He stares at it intently, eyes flicking over every inch of the painting and analysing every little detail. He holds onto it for a while and it seems like neither of them are breathing, Jimin waiting for his verdict.

Finally, Jeongguk hands it back.

“She’s a beautiful woman.”

Jimin swallows around the lump in his throat, taking the painting off him and nodding.

“She is.”

Jeongguk looks up to him with an unreadable expression. His lips pull into a tight line, barely a smile, that can be passed off as an bittersweet expression. Jimin attempts to smile back at him as he puts the painting back into his folder, grabbing the next one he’s proud of.

This canvas is a more detailed, complex painting. It’s a man who’s trapped within a cell, in his own mind. Surrounding the man, there’s words sprawled across the painting, voicing his inner thoughts. It’s a dark painting, done by Jimin in a dark period of his life.

Jeongguk takes longer to look at this one like he’s trying to understand and when he hands it back, his eyes are narrowed.

“I didn’t get that.”

“I’m not going to explain,” Jimin laughs. “It’s up for every person’s own perspective.”

The next painting is the one he submitted for his last coursework, scoring near to full marks. It’s an enigmatic painting, the setting is a deserted lake with a small boat. In the boat, there’s a lone woman, dressed in a traditional Korean dress. Surrounding her, in the water, are flowers that she’s trying to reach out to but failing.

“This is beautiful,” Jeongguk finally, finally compliments.

Jimin blushes furiously as he takes the painting back, putting it back into his folder and zipping it back up. Praises for his passion, for his artwork always makes his skin redden up and he feels the flush creeping on the back of his neck.

The moment between them feels intimate, just the two of them alone in the car with a soft mellow melody playing on the radio between them. Jeongguk’s entire body is angled towards him, something that resembles the slightest smile tugging at his lip.

Jimin feels alive. He feels on fire from Jeongguk’s approval of his paintings.

“Thank you.”

Jeongguk shrugs. “S’only the truth.”

Jimin nods and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Same time, on Friday?”

“You bet.”

When Jimin climbs out of his car and unlocks the door to his own apartment, he’s sure there’s a wide grin sprawled across his lips. He feels giddy and light-headed, having never felt so good after sharing his art work with someone. It must be painfully obvious because Hoseok’s calling him out on it.

“Why are you smiling like that, you loser?”

Jimin looks towards the couch where his hyungs, Hoseok and Namjoon are cuddled underneath a blanket with a bowl of popcorn between them. They’re watching an old favourite movie of theirs.

Jimin thought the day couldn’t get any better and yet, it did.

“I’m home!” He announces, throwing the folder down and jumping on top of his roommates who groan but accommodate his body.

Jimin ends up falling asleep on the couch, squashed in between Hoseok and Namjoon and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Listen, I just need—”

“Jimin. I said no.”

Jaesun’s tone is firm and he knows he's not getting out of his shift tonight, no matter how hard he tries. Even if he asks for an hour or two less, it won't be granted.

He feels bitterness run through his veins as he tries his hardest not to spew a word of absolute hatred.

Jimin doesn't hate many people but he truly, truly hates Jaesun. The man who got his father into trouble, the man who caused his mother to go running and disappear presumed dead, the man who caused Jimin to run, too. He hates Jaesun and yet, he works under him like an owned slave.

“Okay.”

Jimin hangs up and glances to Taehyung who's looking at him hopefully. He merely shakes his head with a sigh, diverting his attention back to the painting before him.

“What?” Taehyung pouts, leaning forward. “You can't come tonight?”

“He won't let me off.”

“So? Fuck him.”

It's easy for Taehyung to say, when he has no idea what really is happening at the strip club. When he has no idea that Jaesun practically owns him, has Jimin wrapped around his finger and on a leash, to fall to his commands or else.

“It's my job, Tae. I can't exactly just, not go.”

“You can sneak out.”

Jimin snorts, picking up his paintbrush and resuming his work. He has a project due in under a week and he has no time to waste, despite his packed schedule full of activities that aren't related to university.

In all honesty, he was looking forward to going tonight. Jeongguk has a fight tonight with a man he's defeated many times before, so it's an almost definite win. But it's also the first time he's stepping back into the ring after his injury and Jimin wanted to be waiting for him outside, to finally see a victory face but he's not going to be allowed to.

Instead, he has to dance for men that he has no interest in and act like he's thirsty for all of them.

Life is cruel.

“Tell Jeongguk I'm sorry,” Jimin musters a smile, not looking up from his painting.

Taehyung has a look of pity over his face but he nods.

“Sure thing, Jimin-ah.”

It's even more depressing to be at the strip club tonight after what he could've had instead. He tries not to feel resentment as a woman powders his face, fixing on the makeup so it doesn't budge until the bright lights and the hazy smoke that overpowers the entire club.

“Thanks, noona.”

The woman only nods curtly, snapping her powder compact shut and leaving the dressing room. Jimin sighs, giving himself another moment or two before he finally gets up and gets back on the floor.

It's abundantly clear Jimin wasn't necessarily needed tonight, considering all the dancers are in today. Jaesun had just wants to tear apart Jimin, not allowing him to enjoy anything good.

The first few hours of his shift passes relatively okay. One of his client slips a pill into his mouth and Jimin doesn't have the courage to refuse, feeling fed up with his job enough to swallow it, as he grinds down on his crotch and let's the man hands wander over his back despite the clear rules of no touching.

Jimin feels dirty once he's done with that lapdance, even with his senses heightened from the ecstasy flushing his system and making everything feel twice as hard.

His vision burns as he glances around the room, getting up on the stage and showing off a few moves on the pole.

It's a winner, clearly, because many people reach forward and slip notes into the waistband of his short. Jimin feels numb, distant and he doesn't care for the money that comes to him steadily. He knows by the end of the night, more than half of it will directly belong to Jaesun.

Jimin takes a quick break, sitting in the back room as he smokes. The cigarette tastes horrible but he doesn't care, exhaling the tobacco and accepting the toxic into his system.

When he returns back to the club, there's a man demanding for him.

“Hello, darling,” Jimin drawls out as he comes to a stop before the man. He's not too old, seeming to be in his mid-thirties. He's dressed in a suit, immaculate features—clearly a rich businessman. Jimin licks his lips, “and what may your name be?”

The man tilts his head, blinking once, then twice.

“What'd you like it to be?”

“Let's keep it as darling.” Jimin crawls into his lap, hand settling on his waist. “Busy day?”

The man sighs in relief, head falling back as he parts his mouth.

“You have no idea, babe. It killed me.”

“Mmm,” he coos in a sympathetic tone, pretending to give a single fuck about the man's day. He rolls his body down on the man, catching the way his breath stutters. “Let me make it better for you, darling.”

The man opens his eyes again, fixing on him in a heavy, intense gaze.

“How do you think you'll do that?”

“By making you feel so good,” he leans in so his lips brush against his ear, making the man shudder. “Anything you want, you can have.”

“Even this?” The man challenges as his hand lands on Jimin's waist.

Jimin halts in surprise because well, he thought the man would know the rules of no touching. He has half a mind to climb off his lap, to scold him but he takes a deep breath.

“Darling. Don't you know about the no touching rule?”

The question only makes the man tighten his hold, digging his fingers right in. God, Jimin is so sick and tired of this.

“Don't you know you just said I can have anything I want?”

“Upon my consent, yes. So I suggest you take your hands off me.”

The man smirks in a sickeningly, sadistic way. Every positive thought Jimin had about the man instantly fades and he feels the need to abort this, to get up and off before it escalates. The man seems to notice Jimin’s need to escape, though, because his hand travels up to his ass cheeks.

“Stop,” Jimin raises his leg to get off. He does successfully and he's about to wander off.

As he's about to do so, Jimin looks up. Right across from him, right before him, sits Jeongguk.

Jeongguk is nursing a glass of scotch, settled next to a man that Jimin doesn't recognise. It seems to be the two of them only. Standing before Jeongguk is a stripper, with long golden hair that falls past her breasts in the most alluring manner but Jeongguk’s eyes are fixed on Jimin and Jimin only.

He swallows. There's a sense of panic that rises in his chest, his heart race escalating in a pathetically fast way. Shit.

Jeongguk’s eyes are dark and dangerous, narrowed carefully as they flick over his body, lingering on his thighs before they're back at his eyes. He looks tortured.

At the same time, the man is reaching over and roughly tugging at his arm.

“Sit the fuck back down. Don't you want your money, you dirty piece of shit?”

Jimin’s eyes widen. He's been spoken in many different ways before, he's a stripper—there's a lot he hasn't heard. Yet, he's never been degraded like that. Called a piece of shit.

Momentarily, Jeongguk is all but forgotten as he stares down at the man.

“Excuse me? What the fuck?”

The man looks disinterested, though. His features are contorted in a bored expression, twisting Jimin’s skin under his hold which makes him gasp out in pain. The man tugs him so roughly that he falls into the man again, the man forcing Jimin’s limbs to straddle him again.

“Fucking stop—”

Jeongguk is standing up from where he sits and Jimin’s heart sinks, thinking about to walk away and he'll be left here, with this man. His brain is about to go into overdrive and the man is clamping his spare hand under Jimin’s chin so their eyes are forced to meet.

“Do your fucking job.”

Jimin trembles and he's about to fucking cry, right in the club. Right in front of Jaesun who'll only curse him later, in front of Jeongguk. Fuck. His vision blurs but before the situation can escalate, there's a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Get your hands off him, right now.” Jeongguk’s low, steady voice comes out. As composed as it sounds, there's something dangerous lingering in his tone.

“Who are you?”

“One of the managers around here and I don't appreciate you disrespecting my dancers,” he's lying so smoothly that it sounds convincing. “Don't make me call the fucking security and get the fuck away from him.”

The man disperses rather quickly, jumping up from where he sits, all but shoving Jimin out of the way before he disappears.

Jimin heaves a breath of relief as soon as he's gone, looking down at his wrist to inspect a forming bruise.

Jeongguk stands before him. “Come, give me a dance before some other man tries to get their fucking hands on you like that.”

Jimin nods silently and he's led back to where Jeongguk was previously sitting. The man he came with is still there but he makes a point of not looking in their direction, busying himself with his expensive scotch and ogling the stripper that stands before him.

Jeongguk’s jaw is clenched as Jimin slides into his lap—he thinks it’s the fifth lap thus far—and wraps his arm around Jeongguk, much like the last time. Except this time, he’s not responsive and barely gives him a glance, looking the other way. He’s acting like he did when they were first interacting, detached and cold.

“I thought you were fighting.”

Jeongguk looks up when addressed to. “I did. I won. I came here with the fighter.”

“You came to celebrate here?”

“Yes.”

Jimin hums as he grinds his body down on Jeongguk lazily. Under any other circumstances, he would’ve felt aroused but he can’t when Jeongguk seems so disappointed in him. So enraged that he’s barely keeping it together. He wants to say something like it’s okay, he’s fine but Jimin doesn’t want to lie either.

“Congratulations, then.”

Jeongguk huffs and his hands twitch where they remain by his sides, like he’s itching to reach out and touch him but struggling.

“How long of your shift do you have left?” Jeongguk asks.

“Not long.”

“I’ll pay you to sit here the rest of the time, then.”

Jimin raises a brow in surprise, looking back at the younger man as he moves his hips. He doesn’t look back at Jimin, looking anywhere but at him and he feels frustration growing at the back of his throat.

“I can take care of myself, Jeongguk.”

There’s a long pause between them where Jimin keeps moving, closing his eyes at the friction of their clothed crotches rubbing together. His breath stutters and he has to throw his head back.

But Jeongguk’s scoffing and says. “Can you?”

The moment dies.

Jimin’s eyes open again and he stops his movement, fixing Jeongguk with a look. He hates being undermined. He may be petite, shorter than expected for his age and he may look vulnerable but he tries his hardest to hold his own fort up. The fact that Jeongguk is questioning that, in such a manner, pings his chest.

“Fuck you.”

Jimin climbs out of his lap before he can stop himself, the first song not even finished. Jeongguk finally turns to look at him.

“Sit back down.”

“Are you really going to demand me around, tell me what to do?” Jimin spits at him, not caring that people are looking at them now as he causes a commotion. He shakes his head, running a hand down his short. “I can take care of myself, whether or not you want to believe it or not.”

“Jimin, I’m doing this for—”

“Goodbye, Jeongguk.”

Jimin turns on his heel and storms off, to another corner of the club where he can’t be in view of Jeongguk. As much as he appreciates the younger man looking out for him, he hates that Jeongguk feels obliged and treats him like he’s incapable of taking care of himself.

If Jeongguk voices any protests, he doesn’t hear it and he definitely doesn’t follow after Jimin.

Jeongguk’s comeback match had resulted in a victory. He had beat the man to the ground and even better, at the end of the fight, the man had approached him to shake his hand, wish him well. The sentiment had touched Jeongguk and before they knew it, they had ended up going out to celebrate and consequently, ended up in the club that Jimin works at.

His elated mood had decreased dramatically upon seeing Jimin dancing on someone else, even more so when he saw how terrified Jimin looked.

In that moment, all he had wanted to do was protect Jimin. He hadn’t even thought twice before he had gotten up from his seat, stormed over to the man and demanded to let Jimin go. Though he was still struggling to accept Jimin’s presence into his life, he found himself somewhat caring for the man. Deep inside, he saw something in Jimin that struck him as his younger self.

Defenceless, vulnerable and easy to take advantage of.

So, sue him for wanting to protect Jimin. For attempting to buy his time for the rest of his shift to ensure he stayed within Jeongguk’s eye line and no one else raised a hand on him in that way.

Even as his concern was taken the wrong way by Jimin, he couldn’t help but feel worried. Even as he got home that night and settled into Taehyung’s bed, demanding cuddles—his mind was elsewhere. Even when Taehyung asked if he was okay since he wasn’t focusing on the horror movie they were watching, he wasn’t thinking about anyone but Jimin.

Jeongguk parks up his Porsche car outside Taehyung’s university campus, having promised him they’d head out together and eat dinner at a restaurant.

It’s still bothering him even now, his thoughts consumed by Jimin and how sexy he is, how he knows exactly how to move his tiny waist and attract everyone’s attention.

Taehyung appears from the building, skipping along to the car with his folders tucked in his arms. He has a cheerful expression fixed on his face, like the sun practically is following him around and Jeongguk feels himself unwind a little. All in all, he can always rely on Taehyung on making his mood better.

Which apparently fails when right besides Taehyung walks Jimin.

Jimin looks every bit exquisite as he always does, holding himself together with such grace and elegance that no one would suspect he strips all his clothes off during the night. He’s dressed exceptionally well together, his outfit accentuating his small waist and his perky ass. Jeongguk forces his gaze elsewhere, staring hard at his steering wheel as he clenches his jaw.

“Hey, babe!” He can hear Taehyung squealing, running over to the car and knocking on the door.

Jeongguk, reluctantly, rolls the window and instinctively he smiles. He can’t not when Taehyung stands before him with a bright expression, a smile spreading ear-to-ear and seemingly unaware of Jeongguk’s inner turmoil.

“Hey. Get in.”

Jimin stands awkwardly before him, tugging on his sleeves but he’s not fast enough. Jeongguk notices the bruise blossoming on his wrist. He wonders if it was the man from yesterday, the one that he had saved Jimin from, or whether it’s new, it’s someone else. Either way, the thought is so unpleasant to him that he has to physically force his heels into the ground to resist the urge to throw something violently.

“Hey,” Jimin says quietly, looking to the ground.

Jeongguk doesn’t look at him. He looks ahead and nods.

“Hi.”

“Um. I’ll see you guys later, then,” Jimin rubs the back of his head, sheepish and out of place. “And Jeongguk, we’re still on for our training session tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

“Cool, okay.” He nods and offers a wave and goodbye before he’s walking off in the other direction.

Jeongguk feels like he can finally breathe again once Jimin’s moving and out of sight, disappearing and presumably, off to catch the train home. He exhales sharply as he starts up his car.

Taehyung looks at him, unimpressed.

“What happened now?”

Jeongguk sighs, shaking his head. “Not now.”

“Seriously, Jeongguk? What is so wrong with Jimin that you treat him like this?”

It’s the opposite, he thinks. There’s too much good with Jimin that scares Jeongguk, confuses him as to why Jimin even works a job that clearly hurts him more than does any job. Where does all his money even go? Jeongguk has seen the waistband stuffed with notes yet, it doesn’t seem like Jimin’s financially stable at all.

He hates being concerned with someone else’s problems. He hates thinking about Jimin.

“I said, not now.”

Taehyung crosses his arm, sulking as he looks out of the window and he has no words to make up for it. Instead, he drives to their destination and wills his thoughts elsewhere.

Jimin sits on the rowdy bus and he contemplates, fiddling with his phone open to Taehyung’s text message. He almost wants to text him, telling him to tell Jeongguk that he can’t come to the training session today. He doesn’t think he can bare to face him, especially after the night at the strip club but Jimin’s never been the one to shy away from a difficult situation. So, he sucks it up.

As expected, Jeongguk’s in a sour mood and it’s evident as soon as Jimin steps into the gym.

He’s doing pull-ups on the bar hanging from the ceiling, wearing a top that’s light and breezy so his abs are on full display as he sweats into his shirt. His game face is fixed on, concentrated and not concerned with anything else.

Jimin clears his throat gawkily, shrugging off the backpack and fixing a hand through his messy blonde hair.

“I’m here.”

Jeongguk doesn’t stop the pull-ups, though. He doesn’t even look in Jimin’s direction as he continues to workout and when he’s done his three sets, he finally jumps down. He has a levelheaded expression fixed on his face, impassive as he grabs his water bottle and takes a long sip of his water.

“Great.” His voice is void of any emotions as he grabs the pads and the tape, throwing it in Jimin’s direction. “Wrap it around. We’re going to revise the jabs today and incorporate the different punching styles into it.”

Jimin swallows around the lump in his throat as he nods, catching the tape and carefully wrapping it around his knuckles. He’s never done it himself before and he fumbles with it, struggling but succeeding.

The tension is thick in the air and it feels like all those weeks ago, when they first met and Jeongguk despised him. Jimin hates that they’ve resulted back to this dynamic after he had thought they were making progress, hates the look Jeongguk’s giving him like he’s inadequate. It all feels wrong.

“Start jabbing.”

Jeongguk holds the pads up and Jimin nods, coughing as he positions himself correctly and starts punching. He feels strong and there’s the right amount of force behind his fists as he continuously jabs the pads, moving along in time with Jeongguk.

They turn in circles around the room, Jeongguk trying to throw him off guard but Jimin adapting to the surprises well. He keeps focused and has his eyes fixed on however direction Jeongguk intends him to go.

“Cross.”

Jimin obliges, punching the pads in a cross motion and then jabs, alternating between the two.

Jeongguk doesn't let up, doesn't tell him to stop even when his arms start aching from the motion he keeps repeating. His eyes sting from his muscles protesting, the burn in his arm almost unbearable but he refuses to appear weak before the younger man. So, he pushes through.

It's cruel, Jimin thinks, as Jeongguk enforces uppercut punches alongside their routine.

“Jeongguk—”

“Keep going,” his voice is cool and collected. “I didn't say you can stop.”

Jimin narrows his eyes dangerously at the man but doesn't stop, only nodding as he resumes the jabbing motions. Training sessions were becoming somewhat entertaining for him but now, they feel like a burden and they're causing more pain than gain.

When he stops again, he refuses to continue for the meanwhile.

“Jeongguk, seriously,” Jimin pants. “My arms are hurting, okay? I need a break.”

Jeongguk clenches his jaw, stretching out his neck. He looks like he's contemplating whether or not to allow before he merely nods, taking a step back and exhaling. Jimin looks down to the ground, wondering how to cope with this side of Jeongguk again.

After five minutes, his heads back in the game. He wants to show Jeongguk exactly what he's made of.

“Let's go.”

Jeongguk stands before him and raises the pads.

“Jab. Cross. Jab.”

Jimin does the motions, and the next ones and the third one asked of him. He feels confident in his stride and his punch, feeling like he's doing relatively well and has made progress from the last time.

But Jeongguk clicks his tongue. “Is that all you can do?”

Jimin blinks where he finishes punching the pad, looking up at him in bewilderment.

“What?”

“I said, is that all you can do? Is that all you've got?”

“I've been doing fucking well.”

Jeongguk arches a brow in a menacing, degrading way. The judgement behind the movement is clear and it hangs heavy in the air, stirring in the pits of Jimin’s stomach.

“Really?” Jeongguk laughs —actually laughs, it's detached and humourless. “Give me a jab, cross, and uppercut.”

Jimin does so but just before he delivers the uppercut, Jeongguk is moving back and the punch falls short. He balls his fist, stepping back.

“What the fuck is your problem, Jeongguk? You've been acting like an asshole since the night at the club. I've not done anything wrong.”

Jeongguk ignores him. “Jab.”

“Listen to me!”

“I said, jab.”

“You're really something, y’know?” Jimin presses on, his teeth gritting together as he moves forward so he's up in Jeongguk’s space. Instead of doing as asked of him, he holds the pads and lowers them so there's nothing between their chests that touch. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Jeongguk’s head rolls over to look at him, eyes completely blank.

“Your punches are so weak,” he hisses. He shoves Jimin back a little, holding up the pads again. “Give me a fucking jab.”

Jimin does. Once, twice and again, and again until his knuckles burn with the lack of layers protecting his bones.

“No fucking wonder men push you around, tug you like a fucking rag doll if this is all you can do.”

After Jeongguk says it, the room falls silent. Jimin doesn't want to admit it but he can't help the hurt that registers in him, travels down his body in waves of shock. No one has ever thrown the abuse, the torture he gets at the club back at him like that and his eyes sting with unshed tears.

“Fuck you.” Jimin spits.

“Yeah, I bet those men do.”

A moment of complete rage takes over him and if Jeongguk wants him to prove his strength so bad, he will. Jimin storms over, pushing the pads out of the way and punches Jeongguk straight on the jaw. He pours every ounce of force in his petite body and jabs him with the intent to hurt him.

Jeongguk staggers back from surprise but it doesn't seem to hurt him, he doesn't shelter from it nor does he touch his face afterwards.

He stands up straight and they stare at each other.

As soon as Jimin takes a step back and looks at his handiwork, he seems regret slam into him. He's never hurt someone before and he feels terrible.

Before he can voice his apology, Jeongguk’s advancing towards him. He thinks, this is how he's going to get seriously hurt once and for all. What was he thinking punching a professional fighter, when he was anything but that?

Jimin closes his eyes and braces for the impact but Jeongguk’s picking him up, hands on Jimin’s thighs as he swirls him around and slams him into the wall. A gasp escapes his lips at the sharp pain when his head bounces off the wall, opening his eyes to face a pissed off Jeongguk standing before him.

They stare at each other for a long, long moment. Jeongguk’s eyes are ablaze, he seems both enraged but aroused and then he's surging forward and their lips crash together.

It's a desperate kiss, full of emotion that mostly range from outright frustration. Jeongguk’s rough with his body, cupping his ass and groping it between his fingers as he takes complete control over the kiss. Jimin falls pliant under his hand, moaning into his mouth when their tongues meet.

It's dirty and it's mostly teeth clashing, trying to find a rhythm with the kissing. But it's enough for Jimin to feel alive, trying to rut down his hips.

“No,” Jeongguk growls. “No fucking moving.”

He lets Jimin down and then turns him around, pushing his front forcefully into the wall. Jimin groans as he feels Jeongguk’s hand wandering over his waist, reaching down past his ass.

One hand pins his hips down so Jimin’s immobilised, the other fists in his hair and tugs backwards. Jimin gasps at the sudden sensation, the burn that he feels on his scalp but it's more than welcomed as he gulps.

Jeongguk’s holding his head back at an impossible angle as his lips travel over Jimin’s neck. He takes his time, licking over his collarbones and then he bites down hard just under his jawline.

Jimin keens, gasping. “Guk,” he whimpers.

Jeongguk doesn’t stop, though. He keeps biting over the spot under his jawline, sucking hard enough to leave a noticeable mark in a place that can’t be easily concealed. He soothes it over with a kiss before he pulls his lips back, tugging Jimin’s hair once again so their eyes meet. Something stirs in Jimin’s lower stomach, cock twitching in interest in his pants when their lips meet and they’re kissing.

Jimin navigates his body around so they’re facing each other as the kiss is deepened, their tongues swiping together. It’s filthy as they exchange saliva, as he tastes Jeongguk but he can’t help but whimper helplessly at the sensation it spreads through his body.

Jimin’s hands wander over Jeongguk’s body, at his tiny waist and he marvels at how toned his body is. Jeongguk’s hand reaches under Jimin’s shirt, lifting it up as a flat palm explores his abs.

“So fucking hot.” Jeongguk whispers into his mouth when the kiss break aparts for a second, roughly biting down on Jimin’s bottom lip and pulling it.

The pain, mixed in with pleasure, causes Jimin to release a whine and he’s sure that the bite was hard enough to draw blood. But he welcomes it, the rough tug and pull Jeongguk has started between them—it makes him alive. No client in the club could ever compare to this.

The arousal catches up to him, his cock fully hard and straining in his pants and before he realises what he’s doing, he sinks down to his knees in one fluid motion.

Jeongguk’s eyes widen instinctively, pupils fully blown and they only darken when Jimin looks up to him through his lashes. Jimin admires how Jeongguk looks at him, like he’s the only man that holds his utmost attention. He leans in, mouthing alongside the obvious bulge in front of Jeongguk’s jeans.

“Take your top off,” Jimin requests sweetly.

Jeongguk obliges easily, lifting the material up and off his head. He reveals smooth, tanned skin underneath with a subtle, yet impressive, six-pack. Jimin bites a groan back at the sight, his hands wandering upwards and appreciating the flat stomach that Jeongguk works so hard for.

“Take yours off, too.”

Jimin nods as he sits back, pulling the shirt off his body and then returning to his job. Jeongguk’s eyes wander for a second before he’s urging, hands in Jimin’s hair tangled and tugging.

“C’mon. Don’t make me fucking wait.”

Jimin snaps into action as he unbuttons Jeongguk’s jeans, dragging them down to reveal his Tommy Hilfiger boxers. He licks his lips, licking over the bulge before he slowly peels the underwear off and is met by Jeongguk’s erection.

Jeongguk’s well endowed. He has the length and the width and it causes a tingle to up Jimin’s spine, his own cock twitching where it’s still painfully tapped in his boxers. He looks up to Jeongguk for a second before he finally leans in and takes the man’s cock into his mouth.

It feels heavy in his mouth and Jimin moans, slowly sliding him down as he breathes through his nose. Jeongguk’s letting out a strangled sound, his hands tightening in Jimin’s strands of hair as he holds on. It encourages Jimin to keep going, adjusting to the intrusion in his mouth as he bops up and down, swallowing every sound that Jeongguk makes and doubling his effort.

As he sucks deeper, Jimin looks up to Jeongguk. He looks beautiful like this, when his hair is matted to his forehead out of sweat and his eyes are lustful with his only intent to look at Jimin.

Jimin picks up the pace as he goes deeper, until the cock is buried in the back of his throat and he gags lightly. His eyes begin to water but he doesn’t waver his attention anywhere but straight at Jeongguk.

“Fuck,” Jeongguk’s whispering, fingers digging into his scalp. “Fucking unbelievable.”

Jimin pulls out all the way, sitting back to take a moment to recollect his breathing. When he looks back up at Jeongguk and his expression, he considers for a second before he sticks his tongue out. He gives up his control and allows Jeongguk to take over.

Jeongguk seems to understand the request because merely a second passes before he’s stepping forward, grabbing ahold of his blonde strands once again. This time, it’s painful enough to hurt as Jeongguk guides him back to his cock.

Jimin remains pliant as he breathes through his nose, allowing Jeongguk’s cock to hit the back of his throat with each rough thrust. Jeongguk’s chasing his own orgasm, eyes closed in complete ecstasy as he uses Jimin’s mouth. He tries to control his gag reflex but fails, choking and tears spilling down his cheeks from the force.

But it’s welcomed. For once, Jimin likes being used.

“I’m close,” Jeongguk breaks the silence and he tries to pull out but Jimin manages to shake his head in his position, suctioning his mouth tightly and taking him deeper.

At the same time, Jimin can’t resist but touching himself. His hand sneaks down into his own boxers at an uncomfortable angle but when he touches his neglected cock, he doesn’t last long. He’s fully hard and aching, he picks up the pace rapidly as he fists hard and strokes himself.

Jeongguk lasts another few minutes before a guttural moan escapes his lips and he buries himself deep, releasing down Jimin’s throat. When Jeongguk comes, Jimin can’t hold back his own orgasm and comes inside of his boxers.

Jimin swallows and opens his mouth up, showing his tongue to Jeongguk.

There’s a moment or two of complete silence as Jimin pants heavily, leaning back against the wall to support himself as he wills his heart race to come back down. Then Jeongguk reaches out for him, pulling him up to his feet and they’re kissing again.

Jeongguk tastes his own come off Jimin’s mouth and despite just having reached his climax, Jimin feels a flutter down his spine of arousal. They kiss for a few minutes, lazily now with less purpose and when Jeongguk pulls apart, his eyes are wide.

His thumb reaches out to collect some come that had escaped off the side of Jimin’s lips and Jimin takes it into his mouth. He sucks on Jeongguk’s thumb, making direct eye contact with him and taking it deeper before Jeongguk withdraws.

The moment seems to catch up to him because there’s a look of disbelief painted across Jeongguk’s expression as he licks his lip, taking a clear step back.

Jimin feels panicked and it swallows him whole, reaching forward to attempt to apologise. Or something. He’s not sure what came over him.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” Jeongguk says instead. His voice sounds distant and his tone is undetectable as he grabs the car keys from the couch, picking up the equipment on the floor and throwing it to one side of the gym. “I’ll give you a lift.”

Jimin feels like he’s in a haze, unable to do anything but nod numbly and agree.

The car ride home is awkward and stuffy, the atmosphere between them almost unbearable. Just minutes ago, Jimin was on his knees and now, they’re sitting with barely any space between them and they can’t muster a single word of conversation between the two of them.

When the apartment block comes in view and Jeongguk stops the car, Jimin opens up his mouth to say something, anything. He can’t just walk away now, after what had just happened.

But before he can, Jeongguk cuts him to the chase.

“Goodbye, Jimin.”

He reaches over, crowding in Jimin’s personal space and opens the door handle. It’s a clear, urgent dismissal. An urgent one. Jimin swallows. He can take a hint when given on and can’t do anything but nod, climbing out of the car.

Not another word is exchanged as Jeongguk starts up the car, driving off and Jimin’s left in a bewildered state outside his apartment.

Chapter Text

Jimin isn't sure what he had expected after the gym incident where he had gotten down on his knees and allowed Jeongguk to fuck his throat—but this wasn't it. Not only is there complete radio silence from Jeongguk himself, but also Taehyung.

Taehyung’s never to be seen around campus. Taehyung’s never sitting the library like usual, never in the pretentious coffee shop where he tries to hit on the cute barista. Taehyung who is normally everywhere is suddenly nowhere.

Jimin can't help but take it personally, as if it's his fault that Taehyung has apparently gone missing.

He feels as if they're both avoiding him and whilst he had expected it from Jeongguk, he didn't think Taehyung would give him that treatment. So, he sulks about it.

He can't help but look for Taehyung harder around the university, to no avail. It bothers him, like an itch under his skin, desperate for some sort of contact. Some sort of closure. Are they going to cut him off, just like that, after everything they gone through in a short time frame?

Jimin can't help but feel like it's cruel.

After a week of his thoughts brewing in his own mind, tormenting him—he decides to take matters into his own hand.

Without thinking too hard about his decision, he catches the bus that goes straight to the gym. He knows, in hindsight, it's probably a bad idea. If Jeongguk is avoiding him, he's definitely not going to want him at the gym but he's not sure how else to resolve the issue except confronting it head on.

The gym is empty apart from Yoongi who's standing by the punching bag, tape around his knuckles to protect them as he punches to release his frustration. Upon second glance, he notices a familiar figure that he recognises as Seokjin, encouraging him and egging on the assault to the bag.

Jimin stands dumbfounded by the door, hesitant. Neither Jeongguk nor Taehyung are present, the people he’s actually seeking out for.

Yoongi must notice the extra presence because he stops his punching, using his swollen hand to wipe away the sweat from his forehead and glancing over to him. His expression turns sour, smile curling downwards.

“What're you doing here?”

The voice is unkind and it's hurled towards Jimin, as if to hurt him.

Jimin blinks a few times from where he stands, contemplating whether or not he wants to step inside. He fiddles with his sleeves, glancing between the two elder men.

“I was looking for Jeongguk. Or Taehyung.”

Seokjin grabs a can of a Red Bull, taking a long sip and when he notices Yoongi isn't replying, he does.

“They're not here, at the moment.”

Jimin sucks in a breath. He had guessed as much.

“Do you know where they are?”

“I don't think it's much of your business.” Yoongi’s tone is cool as he interrupts, eyes narrowed carefully.

Seokjin nudges him in warning, as if to stop him from being inconsiderate. He turns to Jimin, offering a wavering smile.

“They're just not here. Is there a message I can pass on, or something?”

Jimin sighs. He feels his heart sinking to the pits of his stomach. Not only are the two of them completely ignoring him but they've also disappeared off the face of the earth, with no explanation whatsoever. He hates to think he's gotten accustomed to their presence especially when he tries his hardest not to.

It also hurts that Yoongi is, once again, treating him like a stranger. Like they didn't somewhat share a truce in the training sessions, when Yoongi had asked to call him hyung.

“No, it's fine,” he murmurs dejectedly.

Seokjin nods and doesn't supply any other words to appease him, simply dismissing him with his awkward stance. Jimin isn't welcomed here and he has no business being around here when neither Taehyung nor Jeongguk are present.

He shifts the backpack on his shoulders, offering them an apologetic look.

“I'm sorry for disturbing your session, or whatever. I'll go.”

Jimin doesn't dare look back to see their expression as he walks out of the gym, slamming the door shut behind him.

Frustration is an understatement.

Jimin feels irked, the emotion coursing through him and burning him right down to his core. He feels naive to have thought that he had somehow made it into Jeongguk’s circle, that they might’ve actually liked having him around. He feels stupid for getting down on his knees for Jeongguk, the regret making it hard to focus on something else.

The feeling is so intense that he can't do anything but dwell on it. Think about how Jeongguk slammed him against the wall, how his lingering hands had worked over his body then how he didn't give Jimin a second glance when he dropped him home.

He's attempting to prepare dinner—and failing. Instead, Jimin's making a mess of everything as his mind drifts elsewhere.

He doesn't cook often simply because he has no time in his day and now that he's trying, he's only proving himself as to why he stays away from the kitchen.

The irritation towards himself, his cooking, towards Jeongguk grows to a boiling point and he grabs the pan, throwing it against the wall. He growls as he does so, kicking the cabinet nearest him.

At the same time, the front door opens to reveal his roommates.

Hoseok stands there with his mouth hanging open at the scene before him, observing the mess of the vegetables that are smeared across the counters and the now broken pan on the floor. Namjoon blinks a few times, seemingly to be in shock.

“Are you okay, Jimin-ah?” Hoseok frowns when he finally speaks, eyes still inspecting around the room.

“I'm fine.” Jimin’s tone is stern as he grabs the pan off the floor, holding the handle in one hand as he throws it in the bin. “Sorry. I'll pay you back for that pan.”

“That won't be necessary.”

“Why don't you let me do anything money wise, huh?” He raises his voice, daggers towards Hoseok.

Namjoon takes a step towards Jimin.

“You're frustrated, yeah? You're angry for whatever reason, but don't take it out on Hoseok for it. Talk to us. We're your friends and we're not here to judge you, or anything.”

There’s nothing but concern in Namjoon’s voice, eyes small and narrowed as if Jimin’s a feral animal. He had been dwelling on his thoughts for so long that he had forgotten he had two trustworthy friends right at home. His face crumbles as his composure finally slips. He doesn’t cry but his chest gives out, heaving and Hoseok moves forward to catch him into his arms.

“Hey, hey,” Hoseok coos. “Let Namjoon clean this up. Come, let's sit on the couch.”

Jimin allows Hoseok to lead them away. He settles down on the couch, drawing his legs up to his chest and wrapping an arm around them. He puts his head on top, looking at Hoseok with a small, hesitant smile. Hoseok sits besides him.

“Sorry, hyung,” he mumbles, ashamed of himself.

Hoseok dismisses it with a wave in the air, shrugging.

“I'm used to your antics,” Hoseok admits with a grin. “I haven't seen much of you recently so it just, I get scared y’know?”

“I know.”

“You're always busy and you're hanging out with other people—and that's fine, I'm happy for you.” He sighs. “But, I'm worried.”

“I'm fine.”

“You just broke a pan, Jimin. That’s not ordinary behaviour. Is there something bothering you at work?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “There's always something at work,” he reminds Hoseok before shrugging. He stretches his finger out, cracking his bones. “It's not that. It's… someone. A person.”

Hoseok’s eyes widen. “Boy trouble?”

“Somewhat.”

“Who's the lucky boy?”

He scoffs. “I doubt he'd consider himself lucky, hyung. We did something sexual and now, he's gone.”

“Gone?”

“Just, literally disappeared. I can't get a hold of him and if I knew he was going to do this, I wouldn't of sucked his fucking dick.”

The bluntness of his words makes Hoseok laugh out loud, eyes crinkling as he does so. He reaches forward to hold Jimin’s hand in a comforting manner.

“Trust me, he was never worth it, then.”

Namjoon wanders into the living room at the same time, nursing a bowl of ramen noodles as he sits down on the floor before him. Crossing his legs, he twists the noodles on his chopstick and slurps it into his mouth.

“Who wasn't worth it?” He questions, trying to catch up.

Hoseok edges forward and Namjoon feeds him the ramen noodles, offering some to Jimin who politely shakes his head and rejects the offer.

“Some guy Jimin’s seeing.”

“I'm not seeing him!” He quickly interjects. “I'm not, okay? We were training together and then, one thing lead to another one particular day and now he's not talking to me.”

“Men are trash,” Namjoon sighs as he takes a sip of his water, lips curling into a sympathetic smile but looks so saddened than anything. “I'm sorry. But really, Hoseok is right—was he worth it if he's treating you like this afterwards?”

Jimin considers the question and shrugs helplessly, unable to supply a sufficient answer to the question. It had felt good at the time—the way Jeongguk had kissed him roughly, fighting for dominance, how Jimin had felt small underneath Jeongguk’s control. For once, he had desired the feeling.

“I don't know,” he carefully opts to reply with, frowning.

Hoseok nods. “Of course you don't. It's okay, you've learnt your lesson now. If he cared, he wouldn't leave you hanging.”

They don’t understand. They don’t understand Jeongguk like Jimin’s beginning to do. Jeongguk has a hard exterior but somewhere, buried deep within him, is genuine concern for a few select people in his life. Jimin may not be one of those people but he’s witnessed Jeongguk’s love that extends towards Taehyung, knows that it’s real.

Jeongguk is a layered, complex person and Namjoon and Hoseok both could never understand but truthfully, neither does Jimin.

Jimin shrugs, seemingly done with the conversation.

“Let's not talk about it anymore,” he suggests instead as he yawns into his fist. Jimin stretches out his legs, snuggling into Hoseok. “Wanna watch a movie with you guys, it's been way too long.”

Hoseok’s face contorts into a smile and he nods, an arm reaching out to cradle the back of Jimin’s head and drawing him closer. He drops the subject, so does Namjoon but Jimin has a feeling it’s not last of the conversation they’ll be having. For the time being, Jimin doesn’t dwell on it.

Jimin has a stack of papers to read through, analyse and write an essay on. As much as he wishes that he only has to attend university to paint and immerse himself within the art lessons, it's impossible and he had to select classes beyond just his interest.

It’s a burden to Jimin. He holds no passion, no devotion for the essays he writes but he pushes himself through to pass so he can get enough credit to graduate.

Jimin decides to go to the school library. It’s not a place he chooses to go to often, preferring the comfort of his own bedroom when it comes to studying. The university library is always rowdy with loud students, studying together and it disturbs him easily.

But he knows Hoseok’s on high alerts since the broken pan situation and Jimin can’t endure another hour of him hovering over Jimin, ensuring he’s okay.

He finds an empty table and sits down, emptying out the folder of articles he has to scan through. He puts his headphones in, grabbing a highlighter and beginning to go through the work.

Fifteen minutes or so pass before Jimin lifts his eyes off the paper to rest them. He had been reading between the lines so intensely that at some point, his vision kept blurring the words together. He closes his eyes, stretching his arms over his head. The lack of sleep is beginning to take a toll on him. The late nights at the club followed by early morning starts at university are going to catch up to him soon.

Jimin scans across the crowded room before his eyes fit on somebody familiar. He narrows his eyes, just to make sure.

It’s Taehyung. He’s crouched over his laptop, looking relatively confused at the book he’s reading before he sighs and starts writing on his paper. Relief spreads through Jimin’s bones, mixing in with residual anger, as he jumps up from his seat and moves towards Taehyung.

“Where the hell have you been?” Jimin demands to know when he reaches the figure.

Taehyung jumps, startled by the sudden presence. He looks up and spots Jimin standing before him, his mouth hanging open and it takes him a few moments to form coherent words.

“Ah. Jimin-ah.”

“Yes, Jimin. Remember me?”

Taehyung furrows his brows, a pleasant laugh bubbling from his lips as he closes the top of his laptop.

“Why’re you so mad, honey?”

“Because you went missing! For an entire week!”

“You missed me that much, huh?” He smirks wryly, pulling out the seat besides him and gestures for Jimin to sit. “You’re so dramatic.”

Jimin pouts but eventually takes a seat, rolling his eyes.

“I’m not dramatic. It’s just weird, okay? I couldn’t find you anywhere, I even went to the gym to find you or Jeongguk and Yoongi simply told me that he doesn’t want to tell me.”

His lips curls downwards at that, frowning. “Did he?”

“Yeah. I was worried.”

“Jimin,” Taehyung laughs again. He has a bright expression fixed on his face, reaching forward to squeeze his shoulders gently. “I’m sorry. Jeongguk and I went back to Daegu, so I could visit my sister. It was a last minute trip, m’sorry.”

Jimin sighs at his words, relief spreading through his bones and the concern washing out.

“Oh.” He flushes a little at the assumptions he jumped to, so quickly. “Oh. I should’ve known. Sorry, I was worried.”

“It’s cute,” Taehyung reassures with a smile. He picks out a chocolate bar from his bag, offering some to Jimin who politely declines. Taehyung tears a bit of it off, nibbling at the confectionary. “I should’ve told you, I should’ve realised you’d be looking for me around campus. We literally got back a few hours ago and I had classes so here I am.”

Jimin smiles sheepishly. “How was it?”

“It was nice,” Taehyung murmurs. “It was hard growing up, I was the eldest and everyone relied on me for income because my father was crippled with mental illness. But my sister and I, we’ve always been close and I try to visit her as often as possible.”

Jimin hums as he listens, a little surprised by how easily Taehyung opens up and discusses intimate details of his life. He’s always been relatively open about his life. Despite the tribulations he faced in his life, his high spirit and optimistic outlook on life is admirable to Jimin and he finds himself looking up to Taehyung.

“That’s lovely.” Jimin offers a sincere smile. “How is she doing?”

“Good! She’s going into fashion design and she was just showing me some of her newest designs, for feedback.”

“That’s so cool,” Jimin muses. He pauses. “How’s Jeongguk?”

Taehyung looks up at that, a hint of acknowledgement crossing his face as he sighs.

“He’s okay.”

“He doesn’t want to see me, does he?”

Taehyung pauses like he’s contemplating his words and after a long, long moment, he only offers a shrug.

“I don’t know what happened but I know he’s trying to keep his distance because of it,” he says with a sigh. “I don’t want to ask, either. If Guk wanted me to know, he’d tell me but I just know he’s being stubborn about it.”

The words ping at Jimin and he looks down at the floor, shuffling his feet.

“I didn’t mean to make it awkward, Taehyung.”

“I know. I know.” He pauses, looking at his watch. “He’s actually home alone right now. I’m gonna be stuck at the library for another couple hours or so, you should go see him.”

The suggestion is tempting. But Jimin knows all too well that Jeongguk wouldn’t want to see him. After their last interaction, it’s clear that Jeongguk regrets it and it was just the heat of the moment that had caught up to them. He doesn’t want to go to the apartment and only put a damper over an already shit situation.

It’s disheartening. Jimin had thought that they had arrived to some sort of understanding between the two of them. It seemed like Jeongguk appreciated his presence, even for a little while. Now, they’ve managed to ruin it. They’ve torn apart the building blocks Jimin had been working on and now, they’re back to square one. Jimin can’t help but resent himself for it.

“Ah. I don’t know,” he shrugs helplessly. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Guk is a stubborn bastard, alright?” Taehyung shakes his head, reaching out to hold Jimin’s hand between his. “He wants to talk to you, I know he does, but his pride gets the best of him and he’s just… being an idiot, don’t let him do that to you, Jimin. I know you like him and you should talk to him.”

“What if he kicks me out?”

“Then he kicks you out and at the very least, you tried.”

Jimin lets the words sink in. He sees the sincerity written over Taehyung’s face, offering a squeeze to their joined hands. A part of him is aching to see Jeongguk again, even if it’s to receive some closure. He just wants to clear the air, if it’s the most he can do.

So, he eventually nods and agrees.

“Okay, fine. I will.”

Relief takes over Taehyung’s features as he fist pumps the air with his spare hand, grinning.

“Good! Because I’m getting used to see your stupid, adorable face all the time and I’d hate for it to stop as often because of Jeongguk.”

Jimin smiles at Taehyung, swatting him playfully. He can’t help but agree, wanting to spend more time around Taehyung and bond further, spend more time with Jeongguk despite all their odds.

After a few more minutes of conversing back and forth, catching up on the past week, Jimin finally decides to go to the apartment. He bids Taehyung farewell, promising to text the details before he packs his bags and leaves the library.

As sure as Jimin had felt before, the positivity has faded now that he’s standing outside the building. He takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. He’s sure Jeongguk will be able to smell the fear from miles off and he doesn’t want to appear weak.

Jimin counts to ten and then backwards to zero before he musters the courage to step forward and ring the bell for their apartment.

The lock buzzes and Jimin’s surprised, opening the heavy door and stepping inside the apartment. He runs up the two stories of stairs, standing outside Jeongguk’s door.

Inhaling and exhaling, Jimin takes another few seconds before he finally knocks on the door.

There’s shuffling from the other end, the volume of the TV decreasing before the door opens and reveals Jeongguk. He looks strikingly handsome, as always. Especially like this—when he’s in his casual attire, wearing baggy sweatpants and his hair unkempt, curly and wild. He blinks once, twice then like he’s surprised and glances around before focusing his eyes back on Jimin.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Jimin swallows around the lump in his throat. He had been prepared for a reaction like this and it doesn’t cause his chest to constrict from the detachment in his tone.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.”

Jeongguk’s taking a step back, moving to close the door but Jimin forces it open by pressing the palm of his hand down on it. There’s a power struggle and Jimin’s surprised that he has enough strength to fight against Jeongguk.

“Please,” he pleads.

Jeongguk’s expression doesn’t soften, a guarded wall built up around him but he relents after a second. He opens it all the way, stepping aside to let Jimin inside. Jimin feels a little victorious as he walks inside.

The door slams shut behind him and then Jeongguk turns to him, folding his arms.

“Talk.”

“Why’re you acting like this?” Jimin cuts straight to the chase, dropping the bag in his hand on the floor so he can talk to him properly. He takes a step forward, watching how Jeongguk doesn’t move an inch. “Why’re you acting like we’re strangers, or something?”

“Are we not?”

“We were becoming friends—”

“Friends?” Jeongguk repeats with a sneer, shaking his head as he points to Jimin with his index finger. “We were never friends, Jimin.”

“We were,” he insists, though. He won’t stand for this. “We got along, somewhat. You fucking made a proposal to me about boxing and training. We got along. We went out clubbing. Why the fuck are you being such an asshole, again?”

It’s painfully obvious how much Jeongguk affects his mood. When Jeongguk is being civil towards him, he feels elated. When Jeongguk is acting cold, isolating himself from showing emotions—it leaves a gaping hole inside of Jimin, one that he can’t cover up.

Jeongguk is looking down upon him right now, nose wrinkled up like he can’t stand to be having this conversation. His eye contact is unwavering, sharp and never looking anywhere but directly at Jimin.

“I tolerated you. Don’t get big-headed about it.”

“I dropped to my knees for you, once and that’s it? We’re finished?”

“There was nothing to be finished in the first place, Jimin.”

Jimin’s sure his face contorts to something pained, the words resonating deep within him. He stares at him, blinking a few times to keep his feelings at bay. He refuses, absolutely refuses, to let weakness show. Not in front of Jeongguk.

“Does it not get tiring?” He’s spitting out. “Acting like you hate the world, people? All the time?”

Jeongguk tilts his head, expression unreadable but there’s a snarl on his lips that can tell he’s not appreciating this.

“Jimin, shut the fuck up.”

“No, I’m fucking tired of this.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes and he’s seemingly done with this conversation because he crosses over to the kitchen. His shoulders are tense, muscles bunched up together like he’s trying his hardest to not let his composure slip. He opens the fridge, grabbing a bottled water and sipping at it, unbothered.

It angers Jimin further.

“If you were going to hate fucking my throat so much, you should’ve stopped me.”

Something flickers in Jeongguk’s eyes and for a second, it seems like he’s about to protest. But he remains stubbornly quiet, clamping his mouth shut and taking another sip of his water.

They stand opposite each other. Jimin’s breathing harshly, his chest heaving with the frustration that’s boiling over to the edge. They both wait for someone to speak so finally, Jeongguk licks his lips. He puts the bottle down.

“Our training sessions are over.”

That… was not what Jimin was expecting. His eyes widen and he takes a step forward.

“Why?”

“It’s useless. You clearly cannot defend yourself, what the fuck is the point? M’not wasting my time.”

“Just recently, you said I had potential.”

Jeongguk clenches his jaw. “I was wrong. You’re weak. I don’t have the time.”

Jimin had promised himself he wouldn’t let his emotions show, that he’d remain absolutely stern but the words still scar him deeply. He knows he’s weak. He knows he allows countless men take advantage of him, bend him over and fuck him like he’s a toy designed just for them. He knows he has scars and marks all over his petite, pale body just to prove it but he hates it being thrown back in his face like that.

If he had any other choice, he wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t keep a job that he’s treated equivalent to literal dirt, pushed and shoved around by his own manager.

But he doesn’t have a choice, doesn’t have an alternate option. His father is missing, presumably dead, and he has left behind a debt that no one man can pay off easily. He’s paying it back every single day with his body and Jimin feels self-hatred so deep that he can’t extract himself from the constant, endless spiralling thoughts.

You’re weak. It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. Probably because it’s pathetically true as much as Jimin wants to convince himself otherwise.

Jimin takes a step back and audibly gulps, willing the wave of panic away but failing. A tear slips down his cheeks before he can stop it, without even realising. His vision blurs as he lets out a choked sob, covering his mouth with his fist to prevent any choked up sounds.

Jeongguk turns to look at him properly, his face cracking just slightly, showing a twinge of concern. It lasts for a second before it’s returned to his hard, undetectable expression.

“You should leave.” Jeongguk gets out, remarkably steady.

Jimin can’t even argue with him. He knows if he tries, his voice will break and he’ll start to full-on cry. He can’t do that. He’s too tired. He simply nods and turns on his heels, walking out dejectedly from the apartment and vowing to never return. Enough getting torn apart by Jeongguk.

Jimin’s sulking. He knows it, and he can’t help it. He allows himself to do so.

He sits in the art room, swirling his paintbrush aimlessly over the canvas. He’s supposed to complete a nature project for his latest assignment and he feels no inspiration for it, nothing striking him about nature.

The canvas before him should be impressive. It’s a large painting of a forest, complete with hanging trees and beautiful, bright flowers and exotic creatures. But the more Jimin stares at it, the more he hates it. He wants to scrap it and start over but he knows it’s too late now, with the project due in less than two weeks. He has to pull himself together.

Jimin dips the paintbrush in the murky water, cleaning it off and then picking up some more green paint. He has different variations of green of his palette, ranging from light to dark to create three-dimensional leaves and yet, he’s not pleased.

His professor—Taewoo—walks past him, stopping before his work to analyse it carefully.

Jimin halts where he’s painting, allowing his teacher to get a proper look at it as he dips his brush back in the paint. Regardless of how much he despises his works, he still craves Taewoo’s approval.

Taewoo hums as he stares, nodding.

“This is good, Jimin.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“It’s just… emotionless,” he continues and there’s remorse in his tone, like it’s actually saddening him. “D’you not like nature, hmm?”

“No, no. It’s nothing like that.” He flushes as runs a hand through his hair. “I just, I’m struggling a little with the project.”

“That’s understandable. A lot of students are. We’re here to help you, you know that right?”

“Of course, sir.”

Taewoo hums again before he pulls out the seat, sitting before Jimin. He has a few papers in his hands and he puts them facing downwards on the table, shuffling forward as if he has to news to deliver.

Jimin knows he’s been nothing but a star student, so he shouldn’t be nervous. Yet he can’t help the alarm that rings off in his head, anticipating what’s going on and awaiting his professor to talk.

“Jimin. Every year, we select a few students that we believe have the utmost potential to make a career out of their art, whether or not that’s their goal for the future. Every time I see your artwork, I just know you’re one of those people.”

“Sir—”

“Let me finish,” he says softly. “I’ve been observing your work carefully ever since I began teaching you nearly a year ago now and I just know, you’re the perfect candidate.”

“For what?”

Taewoo’s lips twitch as he turns the papers over, handing them over. Jimin accepts it off him gratefully, bowing his head before his eyes fall upon and he reads them.

‘Art Exhibition’ is all he reads before he looks up, gasping. Taewoo looks a little smug, a proud smile sprawled across his lips, tapping his fingers on the table.

“Exhibition?” Jimin repeats. “You’re selecting me for an exhibition?”

“Not just any exhibit,” Taewoo says. “It’s the biggest one in Seoul. It occurs once a year and the biggest, upcoming artists get the opportunity to showcase their artwork and attract potential clients, buyers. We get to select two students from the entire university who can contribute and I want you to.”

Jimin gawks at his professor in complete and utter surprise, completely taken aback. He knows his artwork is more than mundane, more than just ordinary. He knows he has a talent and has been working, improving upon it ever since he was a young teenager and had discovered the power he has within the tips of his fingers.

He has built a life around it. He has used art as a means of coping, as a distraction when life becomes too much and as a way to expression his feelings when it all gets too much.

But still, regardless, Jimin has never expected such an offer being put on the table for him. At least, not at such a young age. He’s only twenty-one and there’s still so much for him to learn.

“Are you serious?” He asks, just because he needs the confirmation.

Taewoo nods. “We’re very serious. Are you in?”

As insecure he can be about sharing his work to the world, especially the more personal pieces—he already knows he’ll never forgive himself if he skips this opportunity.

“Of course, sir. It’ll be the utmost pleasure.”

Taewoo grins widely, looking content as he nods. “I was hoping you’d say so.”

Jeongguk’s at the warehouse and if Yoongi knew of this fact, he would lose his mind. He would physically raise his hand on Jeongguk, slapping him across the face. They have a strict rule that they implement, that’s not broken under any circumstances: no hanging around the warehouse unless he’s fighting.

Yet, Jeongguk sits here. There’s a blunt that he takes a long draw of, getting high and before him, in the ring, there’s a fight that he’s watching unravel slowly.

It’s been ongoing for forty minutes and there’s no clear winner thus far. Both contenders are strong and ruthless, both bleeding and bruised but not giving up. That’s what Jeongguk appreciates. Sheer and endless dedication, never backing down and never giving in.

He aches for the need for a fight. Jeongguk’s desperate to wear his gear, to get inside the ring and destroy someone. It gives him a thrill that no drug, no amount of sex could ever compare to.

It’s a way for Jeongguk to take control over his own pathetic, sad life. It may be the past but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t still haunt him. It doesn't meant that he doesn't still wake up with nightmares that leave him crippled with fear. Jeongguk is weak.

The weed is having heavenly effect on him, mellowing out his mood and making him immune to anything else. He feels like he’s floating, watching the fight through someone else’s eyes. He clenches his fist, just to feel like he’s a part of it. He can imagine he's the fighter like this.

He feels people’s eyes on him and their questioning gazes, no doubt wondering what Jeongguk is doing here when there’s no fight scheduled for him. He likes the attention, the power he has for people to think about him. He feels powerful, all high and mighty where he sits and smokes.

When the fight is over—much too quick for his liking, despite the entire duration was fifty-five minutes—and the winner is crowned, money stuffed into his hand, Jeongguk decides to make his departure. There’s no longer a reason for him to stay.

Jeongguk stands and puts out his blunt, glancing upwards and making eye contact with a woman who’s staring directly at him.

The woman is beautiful. She has long, flowing blonde hair that cascades down her front and a shy smile that’s enough for Jeongguk to want to wreck. She has a desirable body, curvy around her hips and synching in at her waist. She’s smiling at him with intent in her glistening eyes and Jeongguk can take a hint.

Jeongguk moves towards her before he can change his mind, whispering in her ear.

“My car.”

That’s how he finds himself in the back seat of his Porsche, fucking roughly into the unknown girl. Worked up over the fight, he’s erratically thrusting into the girl but she takes it with stride. She moans prettily, she clutches onto Jeongguk desperately and when he rubs a thumb over her clit, she comes with a loud gasp.

When Jeongguk pulls out of her and comes on her stomach, he can’t help but imagine Jimin.

Jimin and how graceful he looks on his knees, how seductive he looks when he’s staring up to him through his long, thick lashes. How he swallowed every drop of his come and how the remnants of Jeongguk remained on his tongue when they had kissed. Everything, somehow in one way or another recently, ends up linking back to Jimin.

The girl withdraws as soon as the moment is over, grabbing her stringy top and throwing it back on.

She grins at Jeongguk. “Thanks, love.”

Jeongguk only nods as he pulls his jeans back on, climbing out of his car. They don’t utter any other words as the girl fixes her hair, offering him a wave and walking off in theother direction.

It feels dirty. One-night stands, fucking once and never speaking had once been the only thing Jeongguk desired, and wanted. But it feels wrong as he watches the girl walk off without a word, no names or details exchanged. Just an orgasm.

Still high from the marijuana, Jeongguk leans against his car and starts laughing. Night is falling upon him, the sky darkening and he’s all alone. He got drugged up alone, he fucked a girl and felt nothing.

Jeongguk gets into his car and drives home, keeping the volume of his stereo at a deafening level as he parks up outside the apartment blocks. When he unlocks the front door and staggers in, still a little giggly from the drugs, he notices Taehyung waiting for him.

Taehyung has his hands on his hips, looking heavily unimpressed.

“Where were you?”

“What are you? My fucking keeper?” Jeongguk all but spits at him, laughing some more. “C’mon, Taehyungie. I have the munchies, let’s eat.”

He narrows his eyes. “Are you high?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you drive whilst you were stoned? Jesus fucking Christ.” Taehyung raises his hand in the air out of pure and utter frustration, grabbing Jeongguk’s arm and ushering him into the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

Jeongguk snatches out of his hold, burning the skin where he’s touched.

“Don’t.”

“Jeongguk, you can’t do this.”

“Can’t do what?”

“This. You went to the warehouse, didn’t you?”

Jeongguk scoffs, feeling backed into a corner. If it was anybody else, he’d have no objection with outright arguing with them. But this is Taehyung, his best friend and his brother, the same man he trusts with his life blindly and he doesn’t want to cause a fight. He doesn’t want to act like an asshole with a wall up between them, because Taehyung deserves better than that.

He releases a breathy sound and then nods.

“I did.”

“Yoongi hyung said not to go there, unless it’s for a fight. D’you realise how angry he’ll be when he finds out?”

Jeongguk nods. The conversation feels too serious for his liking with his current state, high as a kite, but he can’t help but oblige to every question Taehyung demands of him.
“I know.”

“What happened, Guk?” Taehyung’s voice is a drop lower now, more concerned than aiming to throw daggers at him. He steps forward, eyes sad. “What happened with you and Jimin, why are you acting like this?”

Silence falls upon them and Jeongguk remains stubbornly quiet, refusing to speak about that day. He’s trying his hardest to bury the feeling and he doesn’t want to let it resurface again.

“Nothing.” Jeongguk’s sobering up at an alarming rate when Jimin’s mentioned. He walks to the kitchen, leaning against the counter. “It’s nothing.”

“Now, you’re just lying to me.”

“Does it fucking matter?”

Taehyung’s lips twitch into disappointment.

“I’d say, yes. Yes it does.”

There's a moment that passes between them in complete silence. Taehyung is looking at him directly but his eyes feign so much disappointment and his lips droop, uncertain.

Jeongguk sighs.

“He sucked my dick, okay?” He announces. “Is that what you want to know? We kissed, he got on his knees for me.”

Taehyung looks at him in disbelief for a minute, mouth gaping.

“You, what?”

“It just happened. One second we’re yelling and I'm pissed off and the next second, he's punching me and we’re kissing.”

Taehyung’s expression remains impassive and he tilts his head to the side, inspecting Jeongguk’s face carefully before he opens his mouth.

“Is that why you had a bruise when you got home?”

“Yeah. Jimin got me good.”

Taehyung grins at that. “He's gotten stronger, y’know?”

Remorse slams into Jeongguk as he grits his teeth, not wanting to acknowledge the words he had said to Jimin. He had watched Jimin cry because he called him weak and he hadn’t done anything about it.

“Yeah. I know.”

Taehyung hums. “I'm glad he punched you, for whatever reason—you probably deserved it. Are you still not talking to him?”

Jeongguk clenches his jaw and grabs a glass, filling it with water. He knows Taehyung’s trying to pry into the situation, collect as much information as he can whilst he’s trying to do the exact opposite.

“No, we’re not talking because there's no need for it. The training sessions are over, there's nothing else for us to talk about.”

Taehyung takes another moment, surprise filtering into his features.

“The sessions are over?” He asks, seeming to be aghast. “Why the fuck?”

“Because Jimin doesn’t need them anymore.”

A moment of silence passes. It lasts for a long, long time before finally, Taehyung’s letting out a deep sigh. He nods, as if he has no other words left to supply in the conversation. He looks defeated as he walks into the kitchen, grabbing his premade smoothie from the fridge despite the fact it’s late in the evening and it’s usually his breakfast. He unscrews the top, takes a long sip of the green liquid.

“You’re being stupid.” Is all he says after he swallowed, fixing Jeongguk with a look that feels like he can read right through him. “It won’t hurt to let someone into your life, for once—especially if that someone is Jimin. He’s one of my closest friends and I won’t let you fucking hurt him, Guk.”

Jeongguk knows this. He knows that allowing people into his life won’t hurt but he’s not eager to expand his circle, he’s not looking to invite people into his life and letting them crawl into every secret buried deep within him.

Taehyung will never be able to understand. So, he chooses against arguing his point. He simply nods, taking his glass and walking into his bedroom. He slams the door shut to make clear that invitation doesn’t extend to Taehyung.

Sometime during the hours of the early morning, the door to his room creaks open.

Jeongguk had already been struggling to sleep. It happens every so often when his insomnia strikes, especially when it comes closer to the anniversary date that haunts him. But the date is nowhere close. There’s something else bothering him, causing him to feel at unease and burdening him. He tosses and turns the entire night before finally giving up, laying on his bed and staring up at the ceiling.

He debates binge watching a Netflix show but he has no energy to do so, body weakened by fatigue and the drugs still lingering in his system.

When the door opens, Jeongguk turns to notice Taehyung walking in. He’s wearing his silk pyjamas and there’s a frown fixed on his lips. He closes the door behind him, walking up to the bed and stopping.

“Are you awake?” He whispers.

Jeongguk shuffles on his bed, making space for his best friend to slip in next to him.

“Yeah. I’m up.”

“Can I join?”

“You’ve never asked before,” he retorts and pats the empty space between them.

Taehyung crawls into bed with him, pulling the covers over their bodies. They stare at each other for a second before he’s embracing Jeongguk, an arm securely wrapped around his waist and pulling them into a cuddling position.

“Y’alright?” Jeongguk asks. He furrows his brow, reaching over to run a hand through Taehyung’s messy bed hair, offering a wavering smile.
Taehyung sighs, nodding. “I just can’t sleep when we’re kind of in an argument.”

He snorts, carding his hand through the hair and smoothing it out.

“We’re not in an argument, are we?”

“Are we not?”

Jeongguk shrugs. “I mean, I understand what you said and why.”

“I just don’t want you to feel like I’m judging you, or something,” Taehyung whispers to match the quietness of the room. He shuffles so he’s getting more comfortable. “I just get scared when you disappear, come home stoned and out of your senses and then you admit something happened with you and a boy I genuinely enjoy the company of, and consider as a close friend.”

“Can we just not talk about it?” Jeongguk suggests after a minute. “We don’t have to talk it out, or anything. I get it. It’s fine.”

Taehyung hesitates and it seems like he wants to say no, wants to drag out the conversation and crawl into every mistake Jeongguk’s made to understand. But instead, he only stutters out a ‘yeah, fine’ and buries his head into Jeongguk’s neck.

Silence ensues between them and within minutes, Taehyung’s breathing evens out and he starts to snort lightly against Jeongguk.

He sighs once he’s alone with his thoughts again, nuzzling his nose into his friend’s neck and finds sleep come easier to him now that he’s next to a warm body.

A few days later, Yoongi picks them up to attend a party at a popular nightclub. There’s no doubt in Jeongguk minds that he wants to go, feeling a lack of buzz in his system since he has no upcoming fights. Taehyung agrees to come along.

The club is an elite, well-known place located in the Gangnam district, attracting only the most prestigious of people. There’s a long line extending across the street, people awaiting their turn to enter but Yoongi skips right to the front and shows his ID, giving him and his friends permission to enter.

Jeongguk sticks his chin in the air as he walks into the club. He faintly feels eyes turning to him and he drinks in the attention, welcoming in. Taehyung remains by his side as they walk through the crowded place.

There’s people gathered around the venue all over. There’s some that he recognises and others he doesn’t. Everyone’s sporting a drink and interacting with each other, the loud and heavy bass of the music drifting through the air and making it hard for Jeongguk to think let alone hold a conversation with anyone else. Through the darkness of the club, he can barely make out anyone from the distance.

As they make their way to the bar and order their drinks, Taehyung tugs on his arm and discreetly reveals a small bag of white powder tucked away in his pocket. When Jeongguk looks up to him, there’s a smirk across Taehyung’s face.

“S’been a while, don’t you think?” Taehyung wriggles his brow, eyes twinkling with mischievous.

Jeongguk licks his lips, already anticipating. He puts his hand into Taehyung’s pocket, withdrawing the cocaine and slipping it into his own. When their drinks arrive, the three of them find a couch and settle down.

Taehyung slides up close to him, nudged into his side and sips at his beer as Jeongguk removes the drugs from his pocket. He lines it up expertly, four clean cut lines on the table before them. He rolls up a note and leans in, snorting in the powder. The drugs register into his system almost immediately, harshly burning his nose and sending a wave of electricity through his body.

Taehyung follows right after him, grinning as he pulls back and shoves the bill back into Jeongguk’s pocket.

The euphoria hits Jeongguk quickly, floating in a pleasant headspace. He oftens resorts to cocaine on party nights, when he needs a little boost.

Taehyung leans back on the couch, sighing out loud in contentedness as he closes his eyes and allows the drugs to take their effect.

Seokjin makes an appearance not long after, dressed immaculately and his handsome features even more prominent under the club lighting. They all sit on the couch, pressed into each other’s side as they sip on their drinks. Jeongguk feels pliant as he allows Yoongi to order him another round, doing shots with Seokjin. He knows he should slow down but he can’t, not when the good sensation is spreading through him like a wildfire..

At some point, Taehyung starts tugging on his arm and they wander to where everyone’s dancing. There’s exotic girl dancers, dressed in flashy lingerie as they show off their bodies and Jeongguk’s eyes linger, sipping back on his drink.

“Wanna dance,” Taehyung whines as he tries to rut his body against Jeongguk.

Jeongguk laughs pleasantly, holding his friend’s waist and holding him in place.

“You’re drunk, sweetheart.”

Taehyung pouts. “So? So are you. C’mon.”

“Fine, fine,” he relents, using the hold over his hip to draw Taehyung closer.

They dance lazily upon each other, pausing every now and then to sip at their drinks or to ogle at a girl or boy that passes by. Taehyung’s languid with his body rolls, moving effortlessly in time to the music.

“You’ve got a really nice body, y’know?” Jeongguk yells at him over the volume of the music.

Taehyung tilts his head at the compliment, beaming and emphasises his appreciation by grinding down on Jeongguk.

“Thank you. You’re not too bad, either.”

Jeongguk snorts, rolling his eyes as he drains the last sip of his whiskey. He leans into Taehyung, his lips brushing against his ear as he whisper-yells so he can be heard.

“I’m gonna get us some more drinks, yeah? Try not to get dragged away by some hot guy, I need the company tonight.”

Taehyung’s laugh bubbles out of him, eyes crinkling as he smiles.

“I’ll try not to but I may not be able to resist, they’re really attractive tonight.”

Jeongguk slaps his waist playfully before he extracts himself, wandering off towards the bar. It’s more crowded now as the night progresses but Jeongguk waits in line for his time, quietly contemplating what he’d like to order when a familiar voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

“Bourbon on the rocks, please.”

Jeongguk’s head shoots and he finds Jimin standing before him, at the bar. He hasn’t noticed Jeongguk, his eyes not wandering from the bartender. Jimin looks exceptionally beautiful today. He’s dressed casually, a baggy t-shirt that’s tucked into his tight jeans and shows off his body well.. His blonde hair is swooped back, blow dried to perfection and there’s a certain sparkle in his eyes. His plump lips look redder, as if he’s been kissing someone tonight and that ignites a spark in Jeongguk.

“Sure thing, sexy.” The bartender grins.

Jimin flushes at the compliment from the bartender. The redness creeps up his neck and he diverts his attention elsewhere for a second.

When he grabs his finished drink and turns to walk away, they come to face each other. Jimin halts, his eyes widening upon realising it’s Jeongguk. His body seems to freeze up with tension and he instinctively takes a step back.

Jeongguk licks his lip, resentment filtering in himself when he realises he’s the reason that’s left Jimin afraid of him. He’s the reason their interactions have stooped to such a level. They stare at each other for a second before Jimin nods at him and walks away.

Jeongguk watches him fade into the distance, sliding up to a man he doesn't recognise. The man puts a hand on Jimin’s waist and guides them back to a table.

It bothers Jeongguk. It shouldn't, he has no right to feel so, but it bothers him right down to his core.

When Jeongguk makes his way back to Taehyung, his friend throws his arm around Jeongguk and pulls him closer. He tries to ignore the bitter feeling settling inside of him, tries to indulge himself with Taehyung and forget about the scene he had just witnessed.

“There's a man looking at me,” Taehyung leans in and whispers. “He just winked.”

Jeongguk snorts. “Is this your way of asking permission to sneak off?”

“Please,” he pleads with a laugh. “I'll make it up to you. I'm just ready to give him the suck.”

Jeongguk’s nose wrinkles in disgust as he chuckles, pushing the man away from him.

“Go get him!” He encourages with crinkled eyes.

Taehyung gives him a thumbs up before he disappears off into the crowded, drunken bodies and he's not longer visible. Jeongguk’s mood decreases dramatically and he feels his facade slipping now that he's alone.

He wanders back to where Yoongi and Seokjin sit, getting a blunt off his hyung appreciatively before he makes his way to the back exit to smoke in peace.

As he steps outside, he’s addressed by the cold and brutal air. He sighs as he wraps an arm around his body to warm himself up, the other curled around his blunt as he smokes. He tilts his head back against the wall.

After a few minutes of his own company and serenity surrounding him, someone comes and stands besides him.

Jeongguk blinks one eye open to find Jimin leaning against the wall. He, also, has a cigarette between his index and middle finger and he smiles when their gazes meet. Jeongguk can't help but find him beautiful like this, all drawn up and attractive when he exhales the smoke and looks at Jeongguk with intent.

Jeongguk’s eyes scan over his body, settling on his exposed collarbone where there's a prominent, angry mark.

He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have the words. Instead, he takes another drag and focuses his eyes elsewhere—anywhere.

Jimin hums into the openness and then speaks.

“I saw you looking at me.”

Jeongguk rolls his head over to him, squinting at the boy before him. He remains purposefully quiet for a second, mulling over the word he wants to say.

“You looked like a sight, who wouldn't? Showing off your hickeys like that.”

Jimin smirks like it's the answers he's anticipating, nodding in approval. He takes another step forward to Jeongguk, inhaling his cigarette and blowing out the smoke in his direction. Jeongguk inhales before shutting his eyes again.

“You like them?” He asks.

“They didn't do a good enough job.” Jeongguk’s voice remains levelled, never revealing too much. “Did the man do it to pleasure you, or hurt you? Can never tell with you.”

Jimin’s eyes flash with something dangerous and it's obvious he doesn't appreciate such comments. Jeongguk’s not sure why he keeps pressing that button, digging his fingers right where it hurts Jimin the most. Perhaps, he just wants a reaction.

“Why don't you show me how it's done, then?”

It's not what Jeongguk’s expecting as an answer. He blinks at Jimin lethargically, licking his lips and wanting. His eyes do a once over Jimin, taking in his heavenly figure and his inviting body, smirking up to Jeongguk with the challenge.

He's asking for it.

Jeongguk steps into Jimin’s space, pushing his petite figure back further into the wall. He grabs Jimin’s collar to draw him closer so their faces are inches apart. Jimin must be anticipating a kiss because he puckers up his licks, doey eyes falling shut. Jeongguk clicks his tongue, taking a long inhale of his blunt and exhaling the smoke over his collarbones. His lips ghost over the bruise, lingering upwards.

Jeongguk sucks at Jimin’s pale skin besides the mark. He’s rough with his teeth, digging right in and wanting to remove evidence of the previous hickey.

Jimin responds immediately, a breathy moan leaving his lips as his hand tangles in Jeongguk’s hair and tugs him impossibly closer. Jeongguk takes the hint, shuffling forward as he parts Jimin’s legs to press his thigh up to Jimin’s crotch.

Jeongguk takes his time, luxuriously sucking at the skin until it turns pink. He licks over the mark and then returns to marking him up, watching the skin becoming a furious, noticeable colour and he doesn't stop. He continues to cover Jimin’s exposed collarbones with small hickeys all over.

“Jeongguk...” Jimin whimpers, tightening his hold on his hair.

The sound of his name prompts Jeongguk to keep going, trailing the bruises in a pattern that satisfies him. He pulls away with a lazy smirk, admiring his handiwork scattered across Jimin’s neck.

“Guk.” Jimin finally speaks after a few moments pass. “My work manager will be mad.”

Jeongguk doesn't care, though. To emphasise that point, he leans in once more to suck particularly hard just under his jawline before he withdraws.

“Good. Let that fucker see.”

“Jeongguk—”

Jeongguk pulls back at that, hands tightening over his blunt as he takes another drag. There’s a wry smile playing at his lips, noticing Jimin’s aroused expression. Instead of giving into it, he takes a clear step back.

“See you around, Jimin.”

With that, feeling a sense of contentment what he had just done, he nods at Jimin, noticing his bewildered expression and turns on his heel, wandering off.

(Mood: PARTYNEXTDOOR - Don’t Know How)

The night begins to draw to an end and Jeongguk doesn’t catch sights of Jimin again. Taehyung leaves with the man he had wandered off with, plastering a sloppy kiss on Jeongguk’s cheeks and promising he’ll be safe and he’ll be home the morning after.

Yoongi and Seokjin leave, eventually and Jeongguk hails a cab back to his apartment around some time in the early hours of the morning.

The memory with Jimin a few hours ago is still fresh in his mind, burning his mind with the reminder of how Jimin sounds when he moans. The breathy sounds he lets out, the way his hand tightens in Jeongguk’s hair.

He’s half tempted to masturbate with the thoughts of Jimin and his plump lips but he resists.

He’s been home for all but fifteen minutes before there’s a rapid knock at his front door. Jeongguk furrows his brows, wondering why Taehyung would come home so early. Did the one-night stand go bust and now he has to pick up the pieces of a temporarily heartbroken Taehyung?

Jeongguk walks over, already prepared to roll his eyes but halts when he opens it and reveal Jimin.

He looks half wrecked already, eyes hazy and wide and his lips bitten raw. He allows a moment to scan over Jeongguk’s appearance, their gazes meeting again before Jimin’s entering into the apartment. He grabs Jeongguk’s shirt, tugging forward so their lips crash together.

Jeongguk yelps in surprise but adjusts to the pace of the kiss rather easily, slamming the front door shut. His frustration, and sexual tension, from earlier all boil to a breaking point as he feels Jimin trying to deepen the kiss. Jeongguk takes control, a hand carding through Jimin’s hair as he harshly tugs his head back, licking into Jimin’s mouth.

Jimin responds immediately, moaning into their open lipped kiss and beginning to tug at the material that Jeongguk wears.

They struggle, moving to the couch as Jimin’s hand bunches underneath his shirt and feels over his toned muscles. Jeongguk stops him, forcing the hand out and pushing Jimin down onto the couch.Jimin goes down easily.

“Fuck me.” The demand falls from Jimin’s lips, eyes pleading into Jeongguk’s with nothing but desperation clouding them. “Please, fuck me. I’ve been thinking about it all night.”

Jeongguk licks his lips. If he was sober, if he wasn’t coming down from a cocaine high—maybe, he would’ve said no. He would’ve put an end to this before it could even begin but Jimin’s begging makes his cock twitch with arousal where it’s trapped in his jeans and not a moment passes before he nods.

“Yeah, okay.”

Jeongguk falls into the couch and tugs Jimin into him. The boy takes the hint and straddles Jeongguk’s lap, eyes blown and hand wandering over his shirt. He grabs the hem, trying to pull it off and Jeongguk helps before he’s bare. He reaches over, pulling Jimin’s shirt off too.

Jimin leans in, attaching his mouth to Jeongguk’s neck and it’s like he’s trying to take revenge when he sucks on every exposed skin to him. Jeongguk doesn’t stop him, doesn’t want to either. The feel of Jimin’s lips working over his neck is enough to have him gasping.

“C’mere,” Jeongguk demands, fisting Jimin’s hair and jerking back as their eyes meet. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Jimin.”

The words seem to resonate with Jimin because the fast pace slows down for a second, his expression softening and his mouth falling open in surprise. A moment passes before he’s surging forward, searing their lips together.

Jimin unbuttons his jeans, stepping off to take them off and Jeongguk takes the liberty to do the same. The boxers come off too and then they’re both naked, completely vulnerable to each other.

Jeongguk takes the moment to let his eyes wander over Jimin’s body. Even naked, he’s gorgeous. He’s toned in all the right areas, a dip in his waist that’s too heavenly to be real. Jeongguk’s in awe of his figure. Jimin’s cock, that’s already half hard, is thick and twitches, craving a touch.

Jeongguk edges forward on the couch, grabbing Jimin’s waist and pulling him forward as he reaches forward and starts to stroke his cock.

Jimin immediately gasps at the sensation. “Jeongguk—”

“Let me.”

Jeongguk uses the precome to help the slide over Jimin’s cock, getting wetter with each stroke and when he’s sure Jimin’s fully hard, he prompts the boy onto his lap.

“I wanna ride you,” Jimin breathes out.

Jeongguk nods in a promise, reaching forward to retrieve a bottle of lube and a condom Taehyung keeps in the side table. He puts the objects besides him before he’s pulling Jimin impossibly closer to his body, kissing him eagerly once again. He feels like he can’t get enough of Jimin’s lips and how they taste, a slight twinge of cigarettes and alcohol.

Jimin attempts to rut down his hips to gain some friction on his hard cock but Jeongguk stops him, a firm hand on his hips.

“Don’t.”

Jimin’s eyes darken like he wants to disobey but he decides against it, biting his lip as he halts his movement.

Jeongguk opens the lube bottle and drizzles it generously on tow of his fingers. He lifts Jimin up by a hold on his ass, falling back into the couch as he traces Jimin’s rim. His ass is perky and Jeongguk can’t resist as he gropes, spreading apart his ass cheeks. Jeongguk spanks Jimin once and when he finds the sound addictive, again.

Jimin lets out a loud gasp, sounding wrecked already.

“Please,” Jimin’s voice cracks as he nuzzles his head into Jeongguk’s neck. “Please.”

“Please what, Jimin?” He tries his hardest to keep his voice calm and composed, finger teasing his clenching hole. What do you want from me?”

“Want you to open me up, Guk. Want to ride you. Please.”

“Since you ask so nicely.” He murmurs before he presses up one finger inside of Jimin.

Jimin’s tight like a vice around his index finger and Jeongguk has to release a groan of his own at the sensation, pushing past the wall of muscle slowly. It takes a minute before the boy adjusts and Jeongguk begins to easily pump the finger in and out, adding the second digit when he’s sure Jimin’s ready.

Jimin takes everything that he’s given, mouth falling open at the feel of being stretched out. He begs for another and Jeongguk can’t help but obey, watching how he adjusts to three fingers inside of him. Jeongguk starts to fuck him harder with his digits, curling to brush against his prostate.

Jimin shudders from the touch, an animalistic moan escaping his lips as he leans into Jeongguk.

“Fuck, feels so good.”

“Yeah?” Jeongguk smirks as he presses harder against the bundle of nerves, watching Jimin unravel before his eyes.

“Yeah.” He affirms, nodding fervently. “Better than any man at the club, Guk.”

For some reason, that does it for Jeongguk. He’s sure that Jimin’s prepped and withdraws his fingers, grabbing the condom and rolling it on. Jimin’s already slick with the lube so he slides right in, taking his time to bottom all the way out and keeping his eyes fixed attentively on Jimin. Jeongguk wants to memorise each of his features, how they scrunch up to the intrusion, how his mouth hangs open as Jeongguk’s cock buries inside of him.

Despite the prep, Jimin’s still tight and when he clenches, Jeongguk he swears he can see stars in his vision.

“Fuck yourself back on my cock.”

Jimin complies, lifting himself up before slamming down on Jeongguk’s cock and pushing it further deeper inside of him. Jimin draws a breath in sharply, cursing under his breath as he grips onto Jeongguk’s shoulder and takes what he wants.

It’s a sight that Jeongguk wants to print on the back of his eyelids, watching Jimin sweaty and still needy despite getting fucked.

“Jeongguk,” Jimin’s whimpering as he raises himself up, keeping up a steady pace. “Fuck.”

“You like that, huh?”

“Fucking love it,” he purrs and fucks himself back on the cock harder, even when his thighs seem to start to shake from the ache.

When Jeongguk grows impatient, he holds onto Jimin’s shoulders and flips him over so they’re laid out on the couch. Jimin’s on his back, eyes wide and staring up at Jeongguk. He keeps contact with Jimin’s wide, watery eyes as he slides back into him and starts to fuck him earnestly.

He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t think he can at this point. Jeongguk takes what he wants. The previous few weeks—nearly an entire month—of complete, utter frustration takes over and he releases it upon Jimin. He thrusts into Jimin hard, dragging out each push by extracting till only his tip is inside Jimin and then hurling into him again.

Jimin’s rendered speechless, choked out sounds coming from his mouth as he clutches onto Jeongguk’s forearm. He tries to speak but fails, mouth hanging open.

Jeongguk picks up the pace, impossibly so, and the couch shakes with the force of the thrusts. Jimin, however, only seems to take it with stride and he shudders, his neglected cock laying hard on his stomach.

“N-need to come.” Jimin reaches down to touch himself.

Jeongguk grabs Jimin’s hand, pinning it above his head and lowering himself so their bare chests are touching. The proximity makes it difficult for Jeongguk to breathe, unable to focus on anything else but Jimin.

“Come just like this, babe. I know you can.”

Jimin rolls his head over to look at him, eyes blinking. “I can’t,” he says after a moment.

At that exact moment, Jeongguk angles his thrusts up and hits his prostate dead-on. He keeps the pressure on his sweet point going, nodding.

“You can. Just from this, Jimin—I know you can.”

Jimin’s eyes flutter shut and his cock twitches uselessly against his stomach, trapped between their bodies.

“I’m so close,” Jimin whines.

Jeongguk nods because he can sense it, notices how Jimin’s lower stomach tenses and knows he’s bordering on that feeling of complete ecstasy.

“Let it go, Jimin,” Jeongguk leans into his ear, whispering the words roughly into his ear. He grabs Jimin’s hair, forcing their eyes to meet as he slams into him at the precise moment to watch how Jimin’s eyes widen. “Let it go for me.”

With a loud cry of Jeongguk’s name, Jimin’s coming. His body spasms with the force of his orgasm, a lewd moan escaping his life which only fuels Jeongguk.

After a half dozen more thrusts, he draws closer to orgasm and just as he’s about to release, Jimin’s hand tightens around his forearm. Jeongguk turns to look at him, arching a brow.

“I… I want you to come on my face.”

Jeongguk curses under his breath, completely gone for Jimin at this point. He withdraws hastily, tugging the condom off and shuffling up so he’s straddling Jimin’s chest. He watches how Jimin anticipates it, eyes falling shut but tongue sticking out, willing to accept what Jeongguk’s going to give him.

He rapidly pumps his cock and a few seconds later, he’s coming over Jimin’s face.

Jeongguk feels the rush take over his body, his chest heaving with how hard he had just orgasmed. He can’t recall a single time it had been so intense, feeling nothing but blinding pleasure.

When his eyes flicker down to Jimin, the boy is motionless but there’s a small smile spread across his lips. Using his tongue, he reaches out to lick any come he can reach and stares up to Jeongguk, blissed out.

“You’re obscene.” Is the first thing Jeongguk can say, thumbing some of the come and feeding to Jimin.

Jimin laughs prettily before taking the thumb into his mouth, sucking on it as if it’s a cock and trying to take it deeper before Jeongguk withdraws it.

They remain like that, in close proximity until a minute or two passes.

Jeongguk climbs off Jimin, off the couch and walks to the kitchen to grab a wet tissue. He comes back, beckoning for Jimin to sit upright so he can wipe away the remnants of the come on his face and on his stomach before discarding of the tissue.

When he returns, he sees Jimin is redressing and his stomach sinks.

“What are you doing?” Jeongguk asks.

Jimin startles where he’s redoing the buttons of his jeans, freezing up as he looks over his shoulder to Jeongguk.

“I thought this is usually what happens afterwards. The person leaves.”

“You only came here for a fuck?”

Jimin tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. “Well, we sure as hell aren’t friends. Are we?”

Jeongguk supposes that’s fair. He glances to the clock, clearly indicating it’s nearly five in the morning and the thought of Jimin navigating back to his own apartment at such a time makes him uneasy.

“It’s nearly morning, just stay for a few hours.” Jeongguk tries not to take note of the slight plead in his voice.

Jimin rolls his eyes and seems to contemplate the offer before he sighs.

“I’ll be out of here tomorrow morning, before you wake up. I have an art exhibition tomorrow.”

Curiosity about his art exhibition swirl in Jeongguk’s mind, eager to ask and eager to know more about it. He’s come to learn that Jimin’s passion for his art has no end, there’s depth and genuine love for what he does. Jeongguk nods and allows Jimin to sleep on the couch as he retreats to his bedroom.

True to his word, Jimin isn’t anywhere to be seen in the apartment the next morning and Jeongguk can’t find it within himself to be surprised.

Art exhibition.

Jimin has an art exhibition today and that’s all Jeongguk can think about. He still remembers holding the painting of Jimin’s mother in his hand and feeling like he’s discovered a inner part of Jimin like the boy was offering a part of his life to Jeongguk. He still remembers being blown away by his talent with each painting he kept showing him.

He knows for a fact that Jimin’s destined for greatness in his chosen department. It’s no question. He has magic in his fingertips and it shows every time he picks up a paintbrush and creates a piece.

Now, Jimin has the opportunity to display his pieces on the walls to hundreds of potential guests and buyers and Jeongguk feels something swell in his chest. He distinctly acknowledges the feeling as pride.

Taehyung arrives home in the afternoon, cheeks flushed and his top slightly ripped which reveals his love-bitten riddled collarbones. Jeongguk stares at his still fucked-out expression and clicks his tongue, shaking his head.

“Wild night?” He asks as he grabs the bread loaf, preparing lunch for them.

Taehyung sighs contentedly as he flops onto the stool, settling his head in his the palms of his hands.

“Wild?” Taehyung shakes his head, laughing. “You have no fucking idea, Guk.”

“I think I may have an idea.”

“We fucked all night long. I think I only slept like, two hours? My ass is so fucking sore.”

Jeongguk snorts as he rolls his eyes fondly, grabbing the ham slices from the fridge and placing it into the sandwiches.

“Responsible.” He drawls sarcastically. “Don’t you have university today, classes later?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “Nah. The class is cancelled because of Jimin’s art exhibition.”

Jeongguk tries not to freeze up at the mention of Jimin’s name and the exhibition. He continues to spread the mayonnaise over the bread slices, completing the sandwich and cutting them into half as he serves it to Taehyung. He forces his expression to remain levelled as he leans against the counter, sporting his own plate.

“Oh? Are you invited?”

“Of course I am. He loves me.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes and tries to push the bitter feeling inside of him. He hadn’t been expecting an invitation, why would he? After how he treated Jimin, he’s surprised the events of last night even occurred.

“Cool.” Jeongguk bites into his sandwich, playing coy. “Where’s the exhibition? Do you need a lift?”

“Nah, I’m going to Jimin early to help him set up,” he says, thanking Jeongguk for the sandwich before taking a bite. He sips on his water before replying. “It’s just near the university, in a museum. You must’ve seen it a million times.”

Jeongguk has. Whenever he goes to pick up Taehyung, he has to drive right past the impressive museum with it’s grand pillars.

“What time is the exhibition?”

“8pm.”

Taehyung glances around the living room then, spotting the lube bottle uncapped on the couch that both of them had forgotten to pick up. Jeongguk freezes, lowering his sandwich and attempting to cover it up but it’s too late.

Taehyung’s up and off the stool, picking up the lube.

“Jeon Jeongguk!” He squeals, raising the bottle. “Are you telling me you got laid too?!”

“That could’ve been for personal use,” he hisses, trying to grab the bottle back.

Taehyung doesn’t let up, though. He stands back, keeping the lube close to his chest as he shakes his head.

“Nope, nope. You’d use your own lube, not mine for that! You were in a rush, fucked someone in the living room hence the lube from the side table. You filthy, filthy boy!” He gasps, scandalised.

Jeongguk sighs, irritated. He moves forward but Taehyung’s running backwards, staying away from him.

“Taehyung, stop!”

“Tell me who it is!” He retorts, running to one side of the room and then climbing onto the couch, holding the lube above his head.

“I hate you,” he hisses.

Taehyung only smiles sweetly. “I don’t care who you fuck, okay? I just want some fucking gossip.”

Jeongguk has a feeling that if he lets him know it’s Jimin, it’s only going to cause a commotion. He shakes his head, tugging on Taehyung’s leg so he slips and falls onto his ass on the couch.

“None of your business,” Jeongguk snaps as he grabs the lube bottle off his hand, stuffing it back into the side table and slamming the drawer shut.

Taehyung smiles fade. “Jesus, okay. Kill the fucking mood.”

“Go fuck your guy again.”

He grins. “I will. We exchanged numbers.”

“Oh, no,” Jeongguk shakes his head, grinning. “You’re in trouble, my friend.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind, though. He only smiles as he gets up from the couch, tugging on Jeongguk’s arm.

“Let’s eat lunch in my room. I need help choosing my outfit for tonight.”

Taehyung leaves at four pm, once his outfit has been chosen and altered by Jeongguk. He looks handsome in his laid back yet formal clothes, a tight button down tucked into slim fitting slacks and brogues to top it all off. He gives Jeongguk a kiss on the cheek before Jeongguk’s left alone.

He knows, ideally, he shouldn't consider it but he wants to go. He wants to see to the exhibition, even if it's from afar. He wants to see how well Jimin is doing and perhaps, take sight of his new work. No one needs to know he's there.

It's an irrational thought, one that Jeongguk can't get out of his mind no matter how hard he tries.

He tries to busy himself with work, tries to call Yoongi who claims he's tied down with something and isn’t free to babysit Jeongguk on the phone.

Regardless, Jeongguk can't seem to find a viable distraction and by the time evening comes around, the itch to go has only increased so he stops resisting. He pulls out some of his finest casual wear clothes that are still suitable for the exhibition, and leaves before he can change his mind.

Driving to the museum doesn't take long and he parks up down the side of the alleyway, so no one can figure out he's here.

It's barely past eight pm but the exhibition seems to be going well, people crowding around the entrance and buying tickets to be allowed in. Jeongguk sighs as he extracts the right amount of money and walks to the front, handing it over and getting a small piece of paper in return that allows him to wander inside and go through each artist’s work.

Jeongguk, however, isn't concerned with anyone’s work. He's only here for one person.

Using the map that he's been given, he locates Jimin’s work on the second floor alongside the other university students. The second floor is dedicated to all the uprising, upcoming artist’s that people should keep an eye out for and Jeongguk feels his stomach swell.

As promised, Jimin’s work is there.

Jimin stands in front of his exhibition with the brightest expression. He looks the happiest Jeongguk has ever seen him. His smile stretches so wide that his eyes are crinkled shut, looking radiant. He has makeup on, adorning his skin and making his features stand out even more so. His outfit is formal, slacks with a button down topped off with a casual, sparkly blazer. Jimin looks gorgeous.

Taehyung’s helping him out as he picks up the canvases and puts them on the wall, aligning them properly and allowing the crowd to catch sight of his talent.

There's a good gathering of people around the two of them, admiring Jimin’s work and approaching the man himself to ask questions.

Jimin flushes with each person that talks to him, acting modest as he waves off each compliment with a gesture of his hand. Taehyung comes back around to Jimin, throwing an arm around his shoulder and pulling him into his side.

“He's fucking brilliant, he is!” Taehyung announces loudly, eyes widening when he realises he swore. “Sorry, sorry! I mean, just look at this talent. He works so incredibly hard so any purchases, donations would be appreciated. Support the young artists!”

Jeongguk grins at his friends loud personality that attracts even more attention, causing more people to walk over. Jimin’s blushing deeply at Taehyung’s words, burying his head into his shoulder and muttering something that seems like ‘thank you.’

It's a little mesmerising to watch Jimin in his element as he gratefully accepts donations that are given to him by check. He's flushing so hard as he goes to Taehyung after each payment he receives to share the news.

Jeongguk steps forward before he even realises what he's doing, desperate for a better view of the paintings on the wall. He comes out of the shadows, into open and stands before the exhibition.

Jimin turns back around and then their eyes meet. Jimin’s mouth falling open where he's clutching onto the check.

“Jeongguk…” Jimin breathes, a hint of fear in his voice.

Jeongguk only arches a brow at his questionable tone, eyes drifting upwards to analyse the paintings on display. Yet, the one right before him, staring right back at him is a painting… of himself.

He furrows his brow. It's variations of himself, four paintings in total and in each one, Jeongguk is posing in a different way. In one painting, he's boxing and in another, he looks relaxed and carefree, in the third, there's flowers in the background.

Jeongguk has to blink a few times, just to make sure it's him.

All the words of encouragement he had ready on his tongue slips and he feels an irrational burst of anger bubble inside of him, fists clenching by his side. Jimin looks terrified, eyes widened as he tries to reach forward for Jeongguk. He, clearly but firmly, snatches his arm back and takes a step back.

“What the fuck?” He roars.

Taehyung halts where his back is turned, seeming to recognise the voice because he turns around. “Jeongguk?” He says.

But he can't acknowledge anyone else right now. In his one-sided world right now, all he can notice is his face staring back at him and Jimin looking like he's about to faint on the spot.

“Jeongguk.” He attempts again but his voice is shaky, walking towards him tentatively. “Please, let me explain. It's just a painting, there's no need to get so worked up.”

Jeongguk shakes his head. “That's so fucked up.”

Taehyung is walking towards him, apologising to the crowd around them by holding a hand up.

“Hey, Guk—”

“You knew?” He turns to Taehyung. “That he's painting me? Do you how weird that is?”

Jimin looks pained. “Jeongguk, please.”

“It's not weird.” Taehyung scolds as he roughly nudges his shoulder. “Stop ruining Jimin’s fucking day. If you have a problem, we’ll talk about it tomorrow but this is his exhibition and he's meeting clients. So, fuck off, Guk.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, shoving Taehyung's hand away. He doesn't spare another glance towards Jimin before he's running out of the museum, taking the stairs and jumping two steps at a time until he's at the exit.

He pushes through the bodies, into the cold Seoul night. It's drizzling lightly with rain but he doesn't try to shelter himself, picking out a cigarette and lighting it up as he makes his way to his car.

“Jeongguk!” He hears Jimin calling for him. “Stop! Can we, please, talk? Stop!”

“Fuck off, Jimin.”

Jimin catches up to him, his short legs carry him quickly and he holds Jeongguk still by a hold of his shoulder. He gently turns him back around so their faces meet. Jimin’s eyes are swimming with tears, lips wobbling.

“I'm sorry, okay?”

Jeongguk shakes his head, pushing Jimin’s hand off.

“Sorry for what, exactly? Painting me without my permission, plastering it on walls for people to see, to potentially buy?” He's yelling and he's sure if it's justified, just feeling caught off guard and creeped out. “Do you know how fucked up that is? How weird is it?”

Jimin’s face crumbles and he takes a deep breath, nodding as he blinks rapidly. He seems to keep his tears at bay as he speaks.

“I know, I know okay? I didn't even mean to paint you, Jeongguk. The muse struck me one day and it just happened, okay?”

“That's not an excuse!”

“D’you understand how an artist’s mind works? Once we’re inspired, it can't be stopped and I originally painted it just for myself—”

“Just stop, Jimin you're not fucking helping yourself right now.”

“It was for myself but my professors encouraged me to use them as part of an exhibition, because they're good and I should've told you, I know.”

“It's fucking creepy either way. First, you painted my face for yourself? Are you fucking infatuated with me, or something?”

Jimin’s face flashes with hurt, chin trembling.

“I know you're mad. But listen, it's just—”

“Muse?” Jeongguk finished, a curt laugh falling from his lip. “You're fucking insane. I want those paintings off the wall.”

Jimin bites his lip, the first of his tears rolling down his cheeks as he nods.

“Okay, I will.”

Jeongguk doesn't even bother finishing the argument. He turns on his heels, seemingly done with the conversation as he walks away. He doesn't dare turn back around when he hears Jimin start to sob, faintly wondering how many times he’ll make Jimin cry.

Chapter Text

Jimin sits in his art class but he feels no ambition, no drive. The canvas before him feels empty. It’s devoid of any passion. There’s no personal touch to the painting. He glares at the flowers he’s painted, multi coloured and different types, feeling nothing but blankness. His hand aches from where he holds the paintbrush, cursing under his breath.

He drops the brush into the water, cleaning off the green colour before settling back in his chair.

It’s been two days since the exhibition. He has a wad of donations but most of the money is going straight to Jaebum, aiding in helping to pay off the debts. Jimin feels exhausted. He feels robbed, his hard work going towards his deadbeat father. He’s not sure he’ll ever be able to adjust to the resentment.

Jimin feels guilt. Whenever he closes his eyes, all he can see behind his eyelids is Jeongguk’s disgusted expression before he had walked away from the museum.

He exhales, pushing through the negative thoughts swirling in his mind as he rubs his forehead, massaging the temples. His professor walked past earlier and had seen his lack of effort but didn’t comment upon it. The professor probably had picked up on Jimin’s lack of expression, his sleep deprived state, and had let it slide.

“Hey.”

Jimin’s snapped out of his thoughts as he looks up to see Taehyung walking over to him, an apologetic expression painted over his face. Jimin sighs and he musters a smile though it falls short. He hasn’t had the courage to face Taehyung since the exhibition.

“Hi.”

“Can I sit?” Taehyung gestures to the spare seat besides him.

Jimin hums, nodding in approval as he grabs his bag and makes space for Taehyung who gratefully takes the seat. They sit in silence for a few moments before Taehyung reaches over for the painting, carefully taking it into his hands and avoiding the wet paint as he scans it.

“It’s beautiful,” he comments as he puts it down.

Jimin scoffs, shaking his head. “It's shit. I’m going to throw it away.”

“Don’t.” The voice is stern. “It’s pretty, I promise. The flowers all look proportional and colourful.”

Jimin resists the urge to snort at the compliment. As sincere as Taehyung sounds, he just doesn’t feel the connection with his own painting. He merely nods and glances away. Taehyung opens his backpack, picking out dried mango pieces and offers some to Jimin, which he politely declines. Taehyung starts nibbling on them slowly, eyes wandering over different stretches Jimin’s done strewn across the table.

“You still got the Jeongguk painting?” He asks cautiously.

Jimin tries his hardest not to freeze up at the mention, clenching his jaw as he picks up the brush again. He absentmindedly starts to stroke the canvas, watching the green paint fade into the pink.

“Yeah.”

“D’you know what you’re going to do with it?”

“Throw it away.”

Taehyung shakes his head furiously. “It’s a bloody masterpiece, Jimin. Don’t you dare.”

Jimin’s head snaps up, everything catching up to him as he puts the paintbrush down.

“Well, what do you suggest I do with it then? Jeongguk fucking hates the painting, he’s never looked so disgusted with me, with the paintings. Why would I keep something like that?”

Taehyung doesn’t seem the slightest bit fazed by Jimin’s outburst, borderline lashing out, towards him. Instead, he puts the mango slices down on the table and fixes Jimin with a look. It’s not often that Taehyung pulls ‘the look’, He’s always normally carefree, vibrating with an contagious aura. He’s always making people laugh. But when he pulls ‘the look’, it means business. It’s cold, somber and demands attention.

“Why does it matter what Jeongguk think?” He demands to know.

“It’s his face.” Jimin deadpans.

“And it’s your painting. He’s overreacting. I understand he’s concerned that you painted him as a boxer, and what he does is illegal but it doesn’t justify anything. It doesn’t mean you should discard the painting.”

Jimin bites his lips as he considers Taehyung’s words. He knows, deep down, it was wrong of him to have put the painting of Jeongguk boxing on the walls. He knows the secret organisation is illegal and can cause a lot of problems if they were found out.

“Did he lash out at you?”

Taehyung’s expression darkens momentarily as he picks up the slices again, taking a bite out of it as if he’s stalling the question. But it’s clear—painfully so—that Jeongguk did release his frustrations upon Taehyung about that night.

“A bit…” he says cautiously, considering his words. “I think he was upset that I didn’t tell him but it’s not like I knew beforehand either.”

Jimin sighs. It’s all his fault. He had painted Jeongguk, multiple times, whenever the muse struck him and he had hid the paintings. His professor had seen it in his folder and had forced him to put them out on display. He remembers Taehyung’s expression when they were setting up the exhibition when Jimin pulled out paintings of Jeongguk, the way his jaw had slacken.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “It’s my fault.”

“It’s not,” Taehyung chides. “Obviously, it would’ve been easier if I knew before the exhibition. But I don’t care, y’know? I understand why you’d want to paint him.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, letting out a laugh that he covers up with the back of his hand. He looks at Taehyung and gives him a smile. If there’s anyone he can rely on completely, it’s Taehyung and he feels like the past month has helped their friendship to blossom. He’d even consider Taehyung one of his closest friends at the moment which isn’t something he can say for a lot of people.

“Thank you,” Jimin whispers, putting the brush down again. “But I’m probably going to get rid of the paintings, still.”

Taehyung looks disappointed but he doesn’t argue, nodding.
“I get it. I wish you wouldn’t, but I get it.”

“Are you and Jeongguk okay now, though? I’m sorry that it caused an argument.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he chides. “He got over it within minutes, he can never stay mad at me.”

“Good.” Jimin smiles.

They sit in silence for a minute or so as Jimin paints, trying to complete the piece before the lesson is over. He doesn’t want to take it home to finish it, knowing he has no drive for it and he’d rather not bore himself. He avoids Taehyung’s gaze, drilling a hole into him as he picks up pink on his brush.

“Jimin-ah,” Taehyung’s saying tentatively. “Can I ask you something, if you’ll answer honestly?”

Jimin looks up, nodding. “Yeah, sure?”

“Did you and Jeongguk sleep together?”

He freezes up, eyes widening at the question. He hadn’t been expecting such a blunt, straight-forward question to be asked. Truthfully, he hasn’t had much time to even ponder over the topic of the night they had spent together when his mind is preoccupied with guilt. Taehyung’s expression is filled with hurt and it makes his chest clench painfully.

“U-uh…”

“That day, when I came home there was lube on the couch. I thought nothing of it but then, at the exhibition, you were trying to hide hickeys. Which is Jeongguk’s trademark, marking his territory.” Taehyung explains, sides of his lips twitching. “I put the two and two together, with the timing and… look, I don’t care—”

“Tae, maybe you should ask Jeongguk yourself.”

“I did. He refuses to say anything.”

Jimin sighs. He knows, by now, he’s given himself away and even if he tries denying it, it’ll only fall short of a lie. He doesn’t want to lie to Taehyung, he has been nothing but endlessly encouraging and supportive of his every move.

He runs a hand through his hair, remorse filling his eyes as he considers how to explain what had occurred between them.

“It just… happened. It wasn’t meant to, one thing lead to another.”

Taehyung nods curtly, tightening his eyes for a second. He doesn't look impressed and it pings at Jimin, not wanting to be the cause of the disappointed look.

“I knew it,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know why Guk feels the need to hide that away from me.”

“He probably feels awkward, Taehyung. I mean, it’s not a topic I’d readily like to talk about, either.”

“I guess. But we’re best friends and I tell him everything. I don’t know,” Taehyung waves a hand in the air, effectively dismissing the topic. “I’m not going to ask him. He’s only going to get defensive and we’ll just end up arguing but thank you for being honest with me.”

Jimin’s smile is small as he nods meekly. He feels awful at the events that had happened, at the fact that Taehyung’s looking at him with a genuinely crushed expression.

“Taehyung. I’m sorry.”

He waves a hand of dismissal in the air again, seemingly not wanting to hear it.

“Okay but do you like, like him?”

Jimin processes the words for a second, blinking incredulously. “No! Jesus, no way.”

Taehyung smiles wryly and he doesn’t look convinced, nodding slowly.

“Sure, okay.”

“Taehyung. I don’t.”

“You painted him, you slept with him—what do you think it all adds up to?”

Jimin throws his head back, letting out a loud groan. He understands what it seems like to Taehyung but it’s far from the truth.

“I painted him because he has attractive features and it inspired me, I can appreciate a pretty face,” he explains himself. “And it was one fuck, it doesn’t mean anything less or more. Don’t twist it.”

Taehyung has a knowing smile and he nods, he doesn’t argue any longer but the lingering expression on his face is telling.

A week passes and Jimin doesn’t hear from Jeongguk.

It’s not like he expects to, either. They don’t have each other’s number and since the training sessions have been cancelled, there’s virtually no communication cease to exist between them. But it oddly feels like he’s disappeared. He’s never around campus to pick up Taehyung anymore and whenever Jimin goes to Taehyung’s apartment, he’s never there either.

Jeongguk’s avoiding Jimin, of course, and he’s doing an exceptionally good job at it.

If anything, it makes Jimin’s skin crawl. He’s used to being ignored, people holding grudges against him and treating him less than he deserves. But he doesn’t want that from Jeongguk. He wants to apologise for disrespecting Jeongguk’s privacy, he wants to reach a truce and he wants to go back to being able to interact with Jeongguk.

Jimin tries really, really hard to bury the thought.

He knows, deep down, that it’ll only result in more misery. It’ll end with him crying some more. He can’t seem to stop making himself a fool around Jeongguk, reducing down to tears whenever he so much talks to Jeongguk.

For some reason, Jeongguk’s words always cut the deepest. If anyone else at the club spoke to him the same way, he wouldn’t think twice about them but there’s something that sparks Jimin about Jeongguk and he can’t push away the feeling.

So, when he hears news, through shamelessly eavesdropping on Taehyung’s phone conversation, that Jeongguk has a fight tonight—he decides to go.

Jimin has waited outside the warehouse for him a few times and this time, he wants to go inside. He wants to see the fight. He wants to see Jeongguk in action when he does what he knows best, defeating opponents left and right and always coming out victorious. He wants to witness it with his own eyes and then hope he can muster up the courage to apologise.

He knows if he tells Taehyung about his plan, the man will refuse to let him go in his own and will make him wait outside the warehouse much like he does himself. So, he refuses to voice his plan to Taehyung.

“Is this outfit okay?” Jimin questions as he swirls around the mirror in the living room, observing his backside.

Hoseok walks over, slapping his ass sharply as a means of approval.

“S’perfect. Where are you going?”

Jimin runs a hand down the black shirt. It’s baggy and tucked into his jeans, paired along with a denim jacket. He feels somewhat confident in his appearance which doesn’t happen often.

“I’m going to apologise to someone. I disrespected their privacy and I think they deserve one.”

Hoseok furrows his brow in confusion and as curious as he seems, he doesn’t ask anymore questions. He simply nods, accepting the explanation provided to him.

“Fair enough, Min. You need a ride?”

As much as Jimin wants to take him up on the opportunity, he knows it’ll only result in more questions. The warehouse is located in a remote, questionable neighbourhood that takes an hour travelling time. He doesn’t want Hoseok to worry anymore than he already uselessly does.

Jimin hopes, at the very least, that they’ll have the chance to talk. He wants to apologise but he also wants to talk. He wants to understand the sexual tension that thrives between them, the night they had spent together when they had fucked. He wants to smooth out the problems between them and decide where to go after that. He doesn’t expect them to magically become friends overnight but Jimin needs the constant tug and pull between them to be over.

“Nope. It’s not far,” Jimin lies through his teeth as he grabs his backpack, weaving his arms through it and smiling at Hoseok. “But thanks hyung. I might be home late, yeah? Don’t wait up.”

Hoseok looks suspicious and close to questioning his intentions but decides against it in the end, humming with narrowed eyes.

“Be safe. I love you.”

“Love you too, hyung!” Jimin calls as he exits the apartment.

The train to the warehouse is insufferable but Jimin manages, putting his headphones in and ignoring people’s lingering stares. He considers, once again, texting Taehyung and revealing his plans but he decides against it. He doesn’t want to jeopardise his plans of surprising Jeongguk.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, Jimin gets off at the right train station and starts making the ten minute walk to the warehouse. He pulls his hood of the denim jacket up, not wanting to attract unwanted attention. He knows how discrete the entire organisation is and he’s already been around for a few times, Jimin doesn’t want to get sucked into a vicious circle.

As the warehouse comes into sight, he notices Taehyung waiting outside devotedly like every time. There’s a cigarette between his lips and the phone up to his ears as he talks, eyes focused elsewhere which allows Jimin to narrowly avoid him and slip into the building.

He pushes through the warehouse doors and enters inside. The hood conceals his face as he walks through the empty, winding hallways. It arrives to a set of stairs, leading him downstairs into the basement. The entire place is eerie and Jimin has a weight heavy over his chest, making it difficult to make sense of where he is and what he’s doing.

Upon reaching the end of the stairs, there’s a single room and loud chatter can be heard even with the doors closed. Jimin’s sure that’s where the fights occurs as he walks down, opening the door and entering.

As promised, right before him, is a fighting ring. A man in a black striped white shirt stands in the middle, holding a whistle to his lips but stops abruptly when he notices the figure of Jimin peering in.

Like dominoes falling at the same time, everyone’s attention diverts towards himself.

Silence falls upon the room as everyone stops their conversations and their gimmicks and turn their heads towards his directions. Jimin feels a flush expanding down the back of his neck, over his cheeks as he feels swallowed whole by the attention that’s falling onto him steadily. There’s heavy gazes and everyone stares him up and down, like he’s a piece of meat.

He feels his heart race begin to climb just by everyone’s stares. He immediately begins to feel at unease, realising that this, perhaps, wasn’t such a wise idea.

Jimin searches the room urgently, trying to seek out Jeongguk in hopes he’ll find someone he recognises to shield him from the pondering eyes. He finds both Jeongguk and Yoongi sitting in the far corner. When he and Jeongguk’s eyes meet, the younger man looks frozen with terror, eyes wide and Yoongi looks equally puzzled.

Perhaps, there’s a reason why Taehyung waits outside. It all begins to add up to him. He made a mistake.

The silence seems to stretch on for hours before the referee is finally clearing his throat, fixing him with a look.

“Who are you and what’re you doing here?” His voice booms across the room, bouncing off the walls.

The fear begins to take over Jimin. His throat closes up and his veins become sludged with horror, feeling cold all over. His head feels light under the dim lights of the warehouse. It’s like people can smell his apprehension, a few words being discussed from the people gathered around the room.

Jimin can’t speak, even if he tried. Thankfully, he doesn’t need to. Jeongguk gets up from where he sits, advancing towards him. He stands in front of Jimin, blocking him off view and guarding his body.

Jimin hates how he instantly reacts to the refuge. He steps forward into Jeongguk’s presence, trying to conceal himself behind the boy.

“He’s not going to fight.” Jeongguk declares, loud and clear though there’s the tiniest of shakes in his voice. “He’s not a fighter.”

Fight? Jimin’s going to fight?”

This causes a commotion to break out, men hollering loudly and shouts being exchanged amongst them. The collective noises get progressively louder as they discuss the controversy before the referee grows tired of the sounds, blowing into his whistle loudly as pin-drop silence ensues once again.

The referee fixes Jeongguk with a tired look.

“Why is he here, then?”

“He’s my friend. I think he got lost and ended up here, he doesn’t know the rules.”

Yoongi gets up from where he sits and walks towards them. He’s holding himself together carefully, tension in his clenched jaw and his shoulders that are bunched up together. He stands by their side.

“It’d be unjust to make him fight,” Yoongi says much more calmly. “He’s a rookie. He’s never even had training before. He doesn’t know anything. He’ll be destroyed in the ring and you know it.”

The weight of the situation finally begins to dawn on Jimin as his body starts to tremble, silently cursing himself for being an idiot. He grabs onto Jeongguk’s forearm, trying to seek out comfort.

“Jeongguk…”

Jeongguk tilts his head back to look at him. There’s something fierce behind his expression, some sort of determination painted across his face. But there’s also panic and it only aids towards Jimin freaking out more.

“I won’t let them hurt you.”

The words are said with the utmost sincerity and as much as Jimin wants to trust him and the words, he can’t. He can’t trust Jeongguk.

The referee considers for a moment before he clicks his tongue, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“Yoongi and Jeongguk—you both know the fucking rules and how they work. If someone enters the circle, they have to fight. We make these rules clear every single night and this boy, here, is no exception. We don’t break the rules for anyone.”

If Jimin wasn’t so shell shocked, he would cry. He feels petrified and it only grows more noticeable by the second. Everyone is sizing him up with their eyes, trying to gauge his capability. Jimin is petite, he’s underweight, not the expected height for someone his age. It only contributes to his inevitable weakness.

He can hear someone mumble. “He’s gonna die in that ring, man.”

Jimin feels despair. He desperately searches his brain for an escape route but it feels impossible, trapped in the stuffy room with everyone’s eyes drilling holes into him. He tries to remember his training, the punches he had learnt but they feel faint when the only thing he can really address is dread.

Jeongguk goes wild. He tugs on Jimin’s arm, trying to drag him out of the room.

“No!” He yells. “He’s not fucking fighting, d’you not get it? He doesn’t know how to!”

Yoongi looks at him with a panicked expression. “Calm the fuck down, Guk. They’re only going to make it worst for—” He cuts himself off, desperately glancing back to the referee. “You know this is wrong. You know it and you’re still enforcing it. How could you do this to him? I thought this organisation was just, for the men who want to fight.”

Jeongguk’s still trying to drag him out of the room with a grip as tight as a vice around his arm. But Jimin can’t feel his limbs, can’t go through the process of actually moving his body along with Jeongguk’s.

The younger man’s composure has completely slipped. The only thing remaining on Jeongguk’s face is fear.

Why is Jimin so foolish? Why didn’t he get the hint when he had seen Taehyung waiting outside the warehouse every single time? Why is he always a burden to himself, to the people around him?

“Rules are the fucking rules, Yoongi. Get that man in the ring.”

It’s really happening. It’s actually going to happen. Jimin’s whimpering as his eyes tear up with unshed moisture, shaking like a leaf.

“Yah—” Yoongi’s cut off before he can even attempt.

“Jeongguk, I suggest you let go of the man. You know what the consequences are. Get him in the ring.”

Jeongguk seems to struggle with his decision for a second, still absentmindedly pulling Jimin towards the exit. But Yoongi gives him a resigned, stern look and he helplessly let’s go.

“He’s mine, now.” The referee continues, unfazed. “Get him in the ring.”

Neither Jeongguk nor Yoongi make the move and when Jimin tries to move back, someone walks up to him and seizes a hold of his arm. It’s not painful but it’s firm, dragging him to the centre and into the ring.

“Get your hands off him!” Jeongguk snaps but before he can continue, Yoongi placates him with: “Don’t. You’ll only make it worst for him.”

Jimin wants to ask what that means. He wants to ask what’s going on. He wants to ask why he’s being tugged uselessly around like a ragdoll, why he’s being asked to strip down his boxers. His cheeks are flushed and they sting as tears flow steadily down his cheeks, making the people gathered around snigger.

“You,” the referee points out a noticeably larger, taller man. “Fight him.”

Jimin’s going to die.

In one last attempt, he glances over to Jeongguk. There’s nothing but a helpless expression washing over his features. He mouths ‘I’m sorry.’

Jimin closes his eyes and he accepts his fate.

(Mood: Foo Fighters - Come Alive)

There are many times where Jeongguk has felt helpless.

He had felt helpless when he watched his father beat his mother to a pulp, even more so when the assault continued to his younger sister and didn't just stop there. The man went the whole hundred miles, raping her and stealing her childhood. The helplessness had only increased when both sexual and physical abuse had, inevitably, turned on himself.

Helplessness is watching his father murder his mother, watching the soul leave the body of the woman he loves so fiercely. Helplessness is not being able to do anything about it, holding his mother close to his chest as he sobs into her lifeless body.

Helplessness is packing his bags at an ungodly hour in the morning, crying as he kisses his sister’s forehead and apologises for leaving her with a man who repeatedly takes and takes from her. Helplessness is leaving his home at fifteen-years old and being left homeless. Helplessness is wondering whether his sister is even alive, anymore.

He feels the same kind of helplessness blossoming in his chest, burying deep on his chest and finding it difficult to draw breaths.

He feels the same helplessness as he watches someone get hurt and being unable to do anything to help them, much like he couldn’t help his mother nor his sister.

Yoongi stands by his side, a hand on his shoulder in a manner of comfort but it does nothing to appease him. They both know how bad the situation is. They both could leave from the underground circle, call it quits, to save Jimin, only for all hell to unleash. It’s never easy leaving an organisation that’s illegal.

Jeongguk chokes on a sob, all the emotions building up to a boiling point. He bites down on his knuckles and blinks, the moisture in his eyes are clear and no tears have been shed.

He can do this. He has seen worst things and he knows it’s never the end.

Yoongi keeps offering him reassuring smiles but they fall short, wavering of uncertainty.

The referee blows his whistle and the fight begins.

Jimin looks out of place, dismay written all over his face. Someone as delicate as him doesn’t belong in a ring, stripped down to his boxers and gloves over his knuckles. His stance is incorrect. Jeongguk doesn’t know if Jimin can even spare a thought to the lessons they had taken together but he hopes Jimin will remember, will be able to pull through.

His hopes fizzle out soon when the man advances forward and jabs Jimin hard on the cheek, making him double over. Weak. Disadvantaged.

Jeongguk feels a burn in his chest, fury overtaking his emotions as he turns to Yoongi.

“Who’s the opponent?” He manages to grit out.

Yoongi clicks his tongue, as if he’s searching in the deepest depth of his mind to draw out a man. Finally, he snaps his fingers.

“Jan. A real bastard. I’m not surprised the referee chose him.”

Jimin’s still recovering from the blows before Jan punches him again, and again. It’s hard to watch, how Jimin starts bleeding almost instantly. He’s not made for the ring. He’s not made to fight, he doesn’t know how to.

It physically hurts Jeongguk. He has to divert his attention elsewhere away, fixing his eyes on the dry cracked wall that desperately needs repainting. He tries to refocus his attention elsewhere so the torture can be over. He can still hear everything—the way Jimin cries out loud with every punch, how he tries to recover and not fall the ground.

“He attacked back,” Yoongi breathes under his breath, exhaling. “He’s fighting back.”

Jeongguk still can’t afford to look up, not wanting to witness the scene before him. Regardless, he feels pride swell in his chest. At the very least, Jimin manages to get in a few blows.

The fight, in itself, doesn’t last long—can’t be longer than ten minutes. Jimin’s fragile and after a dozen punches, he falls. It’s a miracle he even lasted so long in the first place and as soon as the whistle blows, crowning Jan, Yoongi’s moving forward and gently prying Jimin out of the ring.

There’s commotion from each side of the ring, shouts and complaints but Jeongguk can’t register any of it. Nothing is going through his mind right now except making sure Jimin’s okay, inspecting the damage and instantly wanting to tend towards them. He remembers how Jimin took care of him and he wants to return the favour.

“Is he okay?” Jeongguk whispers as Yoongi heaves a slouched, bleeding Jimin. Battered, bruised—defeated.

Yoongi shakes his head. “We need to get him out of here. Fuck.”

Jeongguk and Yoongi both carry Jimin out of the warehouse, slamming the door shut behind them. Jeongguk’s knuckles are still sore from his fight prior but the victory from a few hours ago feels dull and insignificant to him now.

Jimin’s conscious but barely. The extent of the damage is not life threatening. He has a split lip and his eyes are swollen, sure to bruise. His forehead has been split open due to the forces of the punches. He’s in a bad state, regardless. Yoongi curses under his breath as they make their way outside.

Taehyung, as promised, is waiting outside. He glances up from his phone when he notices them making their way towards him but his expression falls.

“Is… is that Jimin?” Taehyung’s calling out loudly, aghast. “What the fuck?”

Nothing but anger short circuits through Jeongguk as he advances towards Taehyung. He grabs the man by the collar, slamming him against the car. The outrage from the events boil over the edge.

“Why the fuck didn’t you stop Jimin from coming into the warehouse? Are you insane?”

Taehyung looks completely caught off guard, bewilderment registering in his features. His eyes are trained on Jimin, concern washing in his pupils. He looks back at Jeongguk and he roughly shoves the hand off his collar.

“I didn’t even fucking know he was here! I didn’t fucking see him! You think I’d let him go inside?”

“You’re so fucking stupid.” Jeongguk spits.

He pushes off Taehyung, deciding to return his attention towards Jimin instead.

The back door of the car is open where Jimin lays out across the seats, Yoongi up in his space as he inspects the cuts. Taehyung curses under his breath as his eyes widen, seeming to catch on what has just happened. He takes a moment to recollect before he walks to the boot, grabbing the first aid kit.

Jeongguk takes it off him, glaring at him.

“I can’t believe you, Taehyung.” He mumbles. “You’re not going near him.”

Betrayal sinks into Taehyung’s features as he crumbles.

“Guk, I swear to God. I didn’t know he was here! I wouldn’t let him go inside. I promise. Please, he’s hurt.”

Jeongguk’s firm, though. In the moment, he can only focus on Jimin. He pushes Taehyung away as he walks over to the other side of the car, opening the door and crouching down besides Jimin.

Yoongi looks up to him where his fingers are soothing over Jimin’s face, frowning.

“He needs stitches.” Yoongi informs, wrinkles appearing on his face as he concentrates. His finger gently traces down the broken skin on Jimin’s forehead. “Right here.”

Jeongguk feels dread fill his bones for the hundredth time tonight. He knows there’s nothing in the first aid kit that’ll help with that.

“I… we can’t go hospital, hyung.”

“I know.” He sighs irritably, muttering a curse under his breath. When he runs a hand through his hair, he stains his blonde strands crimson red from Jimin’s blood. “I know someone who’s a trainee nurse, she might be able to help us and I trust her. She wouldn’t breathe a word to anyone about this.”

It’s not like they have many options to choose from. They can’t go to the hospital, not if it means blowing their covers and putting all their lives at risk.

There’s nothing Jeongguk can do but resign to the circumstances, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Fine.”

“Get a cotton wool from the kit, hold it down on the wound so he stops bleeding. I’ll clean him up.”

Taehyung stands before them, looking unsure. He fiddles with his fingers, tears steadily falling down his cheeks. There’s remorse in his features, twisted with sorrow and Jeongguk can’t help but despise him in the moment.

Jeongguk’s hands shake as he cards them through Jimin’s hair, pulling it back off his forehead.

“Jimin. I need you to stay with me, yeah?” His voice is barely audible as he holds down the cotton wool supplied by Yoongi. He gently, but firmly, presses down on the open cut on the forehead which causes Jimin to groan. “You’re going to be fine. We’re going to get you stitches and you’re going to be okay, d’you get me?”

Jimin whimpers and his lips shake but he can’t seem to bring any words to his lips, struggling to speak. His mouth opens and shuts.

“Shh. Don’t try to speak. Just, shut up.” Yoongi says.

When Jeongguk looks up again, Taehyung’s presence is no longer with them. He cranes his head around the deserted area of the warehouse only to watch Taehyung’s figure retreating into the darkness, his frame shaking with the force of his sobs that can be clearly heard. It only aids to irking Jeongguk some more. How can Taehyung make this about himself when Jimin’s here, struggling to get by.

Once the wounds have been mostly cleared and the open wound has, somewhat, eased up on the bleeding—Yoongi grabs the keys and walks to the driver’s seat, starting up the car. Jeongguk carefully climbs into the back, sitting down and settling Jimin’s head into his lap.

Jimin’s not really conscious, just floating as his eyes flutter close every few seconds as if he's taking time to adjust to the level of pain he's experiencing. Jeongguk knows, from experience, that he’s not really awake. He’s not registering what’s going on around him, unaware to his surroundings. All Jimin can feel right now is pain. Blinding, crippling pain.

Yoongi drives to the girl’s house who he trusts and the girl seems startled but reluctantly agrees.

They take refuge in her living room. Jeongguk and Yoongi sit on the floor, sporting beers but neither of them have the heart to drink, not when Jimin lays out on the couch before them. The girl, who introduces herself as Soomin, seems hesitant as she sits on a chair in front of Jimin.

She brushes Jimin’s blonde matted hair off his forehead, frowning at the wound.

“I’m not a professional,” her voice shakes as she opens her trainee kit, withdrawing a tissue doused in soap to clean the area. She wipes it across Jimin’s forehead, frowning. “I don’t want to fuck this up, Yoongi oppa.”

Yoongi looks apprehensive, tightening his hold over the bottle in his hand. It doesn’t help calm Jeongguk’s inner turmoil, not in the slightest.

“You’re our best bet, Soomin. Please.”

“I need to numb the area… I don’t have anything to numb it with. I have a cream but it won’t have the impact of anesthetic.”

“Just do it without. Apply the cream.”

Jeongguk bites his lip. “W-won’t that hurt, hyung?”

Yoongi nods. “It will but he’s already in pain.”

Soomin is skeptical of her every move, uncertain in her own work. It irritates Jeongguk but he refuses to speak out about it, not when she’s their only hope in giving Jimin the sutures he needs for his deep cut. He grips his beer bottle, taking a long sip and allowing the bitter taste burn the back of his throat.

Soomin applies the cream slowly and waits a total of five minutes before she brings up the needle, and starts stitching.

Jimin, instantly, seems to recognise the newfound pain and cries out. Jeongguk’s moving forward before he realises, putting the bottle down and grabbing Jimin’s hand.

“You’re okay. I’m here.”

Jimin whimpers, mustering out a weak. “Hurts.”

“I know, peach. I know.” The pet name of endearment slips from his mouth before he can prevent himself, taking him back to their first night. When Jimin had looked so sure of himself, confident and sexy as he had given Jeongguk a lapdance he’ll never forget. The same Jimin can’t be seen in this Jimin—hurt, crushed.

Jeongguk had said no one will hurt him, that no one will touch him and he didn’t follow through.

He shakes as he squeezes Jimin’s hand, giving him something else to focus on as Soomin stitches his forehead. The job is messily done but it holds Jimin’s skin together and the bleeding has stopped entirely.

Soomin sits back, sweating. “It’s done. He’ll be fine. They need to be removed in a week’s time and you can bring him back, I’ll do it.”

Yoongi stands up, bowing gratefully.

“Thank you, Soomin.”

Soomin gives him over the counter painkillers and gives some health tips on taking care of Jimin, advising the utmost hours of rest and two painkillers every five to six hours as well as warm compresses on his forehead.

On the ride home, when Jimin’s asleep and Yoongi’s desperately trying to focus on something else—Jeongguk finally cries.

Jeongguk barely gets any sleep. Jimin’s curled up next to him under his covers, his breathing evened out and his features nearly almost smoothed out. The pain seems to have subsided after waking him up at 3am for two more tablets of painkillers before Jimin knocked out and remained asleep.

Jeongguk gives up on sleeping when the sunlight starts to rinse in through his curtains, burning his eyes. He grunts as he carefully rolls over, trying not to wake up Jimin.

It’s 8am.

There’s no point in sleeping now and as much as he wants to stay in bed, with Jimin—he knows he should get up and prepare food for the boy when he wakes up. He decides on soup, the best bet for when someone’s sick. He also needs to call Yoongi and ask for more advice, perhaps write down some of the tips Soomin had told her last night before it slips out of his mind.

Jeongguk apprehensively takes a shower, keeping the door to ensuite open just in case he needs to rush back to Jimin’s aid. He dresses into a fresh pair of clothes, walking into the living room only to halt.

Taehyung’s there, preparing breakfast.

“Where did you go last night?” Jeongguk demands to know, standing before the island and refusing to come any closer.

Taehyung jumps, startled from the sudden presence. He stops whisking the eggs. His eyes are red rimmed, a clear indicator he’s been crying and his hair is unkempt and ruffled. He looks like a wreck.

“I’m… making food.” He breathes out, gesturing to the ingredients around him. “Is Jimin here?”

“Why do you care?”

Taehyung stares in disbelief. He blinks a few times before he shakes his head, dropping the whisk in his hand. He walks over to Jeongguk, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it up before he speaks.

“You’re acting like a fucking dickhead.”

‘Your voice is going to wake Jimin up.”

Taehyung considers this for a second before he nods curtly. “Let’s go outside.”

The two of them walk together side-by-side down the stairs, out into the open. The atmosphere is foggy, overcast due to the rain that’s been non stop drizzling since last night. There’s tension between the two of them, thick and painfully noticeable. Jeongguk’s exasperation towards Taehyung hasn’t eased up.

Neither of them speak for a while. Jeongguk wills his mind to stop racing with thoughts as Taehyung smokes quietly besides him. Finally, Taehyung turns to look at him.

“I didn’t know Jimin was there. You have to stop making it out like I wanted Jimin to get hurt.” His voice is stern as he taps the butt of the cigarette, watching the ashes fall to the ground. “He didn’t even ride with me to the warehouse, how was I supposed to know?”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “So, what? He just appeared out of nowhere?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know what happened and you literally didn’t even give me a chance to find out.”

He snorts. “If I remember correctly, it was you who walked away. You didn’t want to know because you were guilty, just fucking admit it.”

“I’m not guilty of anything!”

“Oh, really?” Jeongguk cuts in. “How many times have you talked to Jimin about what we do, how many times have you taken Jimin to the warehouse, huh?” He waits for an answer and when there isn’t one, he continues. “You just never thought to mention why you, yourself, never enter the warehouse?”

“I thought he’d know!” Taehyung argues back, voice raising to defend himself. His hard composure cracks as desperation pours into his features. “I thought he’d realise. How can anyone not realise in that situation? It just, I thought he knew!”

“Well, he didn’t! He got hurt because of you! If you had just fucking told him, even in passing, he wouldn’t of been there. He wouldn’t of been beaten so savagely. He wouldn’t be in my bedroom, doped up on pain medication!”

“This isn’t my fault!”

“Oh my God, Taehyung!” Jeongguk starts to laugh humorlessly, shaking his head. “Can you not, for once, admit that you’re wrong? You fucked up. Because of your negligence, Jimin entered the warehouse, just admit it.”

“No—”

“We barely managed to get him the help he needed and that’s on you.”

Taehyung’s eyes gather with tears but he doesn’t let them fall this time, he blinks rapidly to will the moisture away. It irks Jeongguk. Jimin’s the one that’s been hurt, that’s suffering upstairs in their apartment and yet, Taehyung’s the one that’s crying.

“Jeongguk—”

“You’re an idiot, Taehyung. You clearly didn’t care for Jimin enough if you failed to inform him of something so important.”

That seems to spark something within Taehyung. He looks back at Jeongguk with his eyes filling with a newfound of emotion, wild and raw as he pushes Jeongguk roughly. The younger man staggers from the force, arching a brow.

“Fuck you. You don’t even fucking like him, how dare you stand in front of me and act like you suddenly care.”

Jeongguk blinks. “Stop—”

“You break him down. You hurt him over and over, you make him cry all the fucking time. You ruined one of the most important days for him—”

“Stop.”

“You fucking hate him and treat him like shit. You use his body for sex, like those clients of his, and then you never talk to him again. You’re a fucking horrible, spiteful person and—”

Jeongguk’s eyes flash with hot rage, completely consuming him as he storms forward towards Taehyung.

He knows that every word that Taehyung has uttered is only the truth. He did hurt Jimin, repeatedly and he only continues to do so. Because of him, Jimin has cried endless times and he’s witnessed most of them.

Taehyung knows how to get under his skin, knows what words to say to provoke a reaction out of him. Before he can even comprehend what he’s doing, he grabs Taehyung’s shirt so they’re nose-to-nose and raises his fist.

Taehyung’s eyes widen as he realises what’s happening, his cigarette dropping to the floor.

Jeongguk brings his fist down but before he can do so, there’s a firm grip that prevents him from delivering the punch.

“Yah! What the fuck!” Yoongi’s voice can be heard as he grabs Jeongguk’s fist and pulls him back, parting the two of them. “Jeongguk! Settle down!”

Jeongguk feels feral, unhinged and the only thing he can feel is the rage that courses through his veins. His emotions are running wild, thoughts running hundred miles per minute as he looks back at Taehyung.

“Tell him I don’t want him anywhere near me,” Jeongguk spits to Yoongi. “Tell him to get out of my fucking sights!”

Yoongi looks livid, letting go of Jeongguk’s arm like it burnt him, eyes narrowing as he glances between the two friends and tuts.

“If you two can't get it together, then who will? Who can? Don't be an idiot, Guk.”

But Taehyung has already resigned himself, has already nodded and starting to move away. Jeongguk almost wants to stop him, apologise but he doesn’t move from where he stands. He watches Taehyung’s figure disappear back into the building.

Yoongi turns to look at him with an unimpressed, angered look.

“What's gotten into you?”

Jeongguk growls as he looks away. “It's his fault that Jimin’s hurt.” He says boldly, shaking his head. “He’s been Jimin’s friend this whole time and never told him, how irresponsible can he get?”

Yoongi’s face contorts into some sort of twisted understanding, shaking his head.

“Let's go inside, c’mon. Before this gets worst.”

Jeongguk sighs as he allows himself to be guided back up the two stories, into the apartment after they shared a cigarette together—finally. He feels clearer now, like his mind has been wiped as he walks back into the apartment.

The apartment is eerily quiet. Jeongguk’s bedroom door is still open and the frame of Jimin can be made out in the light with the curtains pulled, still sleeping soundly. Taehyung’s bedroom door is closed.

Jeongguk walks over to the kitchen, noticing Taehyung’s unfinished breakfast and putting it to one side.

“Yoongi hyung, what’d you like for breakfast?”

Yoongi grunts where he sits down on the couch, emptying his pockets which reveals stuffed envelopes, crumbled papers.

“Coffee will be fine.”

He groans as he puts the kettle on, shaking his head. “Hyung, you need food. Fibre, proteins in the mornings. I'm gonna make banana pancakes.”

Yoongi snorts at this, a clear sign that he has no intention of eating them but Jeongguk gathers the ingredients anyway. He hopes that Jimin will like them and with that, he starts to mash the two bananas.

They sit in silence as Jeongguk combines the ingredients together, grabbing a pan and putting it on medium heat to let it warm up as Yoongi goes through his phone and replies to daily texts.

“The man, Jan, who hurt Jimin today is throwing a damn celebration.”

Jeongguk raises his head, disbelief sprawled across his face.

“What?”

“Yeah. He fucking celebrated the fact that he terrorised a man who had no idea what he was doing in the warehouse. Fucking insane.”

He clenches his jaw at the news and tries to push past the blinding rage that threatens to take over, grabbing his spatula as he pours the first of the batter into the pan.

The pan sizzles as the pancakes cook and Jeongguk hums under his breath as he turns the cakes over at the right time, when it's golden brown. He feels the need for revenge in his bones, coursing through his body but he knows it’ll only make the situation worst. Yet every time he glances over to his bedroom, knowing Jimin’s sleeping away a pained haze, he wants nothing more than to inflict pain upon Jan.

Taehyung’s bedroom door opens when Jeongguk’s three pancakes down, surprised with himself at good they're coming out.

“Taehyung, what the fuck?” Yoongi says.

Jeongguk looks up to find his best friend standing in the living room, a mask over his face to conceal most of his face. In his hand, he holds a large duffel bag and a backpack. He's packed. Dread registers into his system, eyes widening as he looks over Taehyung.

“Where are you going?” The older man continues to ask when a moment passes in silence.

Taehyung shakes his head. “I'm leaving. I clearly hurt Jimin, I clearly fucked up. I'm leaving. Don't call me.”

With that, he walks to the front door. Jeongguk’s frozen where he stands, wants to ask questions and sit Taehyung down. From all the arguments they've had, they've never had one as bad as Taehyung quite literally walking out.

Yoongi runs after him but he's helpless, Taehyung’s faster and more graceful. He's out like a flash and Jeongguk’s alone in the apartment with Jimin.

“Fuck…” he mumbles once he's realised what just happened. He only repeated the curse when Yoongi comes back, alone.

Taehyung's gone.

When Jimin awakes, the first thing he feels is a heavy head. He squints his eyes shut further, groaning as he tries to move and finds himself unable to do so, immobilised on the bed.

He wonders why there's so much pain, flashing and crippling, that spreads through his muscles like a wildfire with each passing second that he comes to consciousness. He lets out another sound of distress, moving his hand to pull back his hair and cursing under his breath.

“Jimin?” He hears someone distinctly calling for him.

Jimin blinks his eyes, opening them and then instantly shutting them again when the brightness from the window temporarily blinds him. He takes another two seconds before he feels the warmth of another body besides him before he reopens.

Above him, standing up and nursing two tablets and water is Jeongguk.

He looks stressed. There's faint wrinkle lines evident, even on a relaxed face. His eyes are droopy with dark eye bags, looking every bit exhausted. Jimin frowns. Why does Jeongguk look so sad?

“Hmmm.” He tries to move but Jeongguk reaches out, stopping him.

“Don't. Sit up a bit, I need to give you painkillers.”

Painkillers. Yes. He needs them. Jimin shuffles up where he lays, mouth opening so Jeongguk can drop the tablets in and drains them down with the cold water. It feels pleasant against his scratchy, torn apart throat like he's been screaming.

Jimin lays back down and his body gives in, his eyes fluttering shut and falling asleep again.

When he comes around the second time, he feels more alert. The painkillers must've done their job because the pain doesn't feel too harsh now, more of a distant dull that spreads through his bones.

Memories begin to flood his mind, causing his eyes to shoot open.

On the floor, besides the bed, sits Jeongguk resting his back against the bedside table. He has an iPad in his hand and seems to be on google maps, tracking something down.

Jimin squints. “Jeongguk?”

The man looks up from his gadget, a watery smile taking over his lips as he locks the device and puts it down.

“Hey. You're awake, finally. How're you feeling?”

He groans as he rolls his head around the pillow, trying to reach for the alarm clock that reads digital display only to realise, it isn't here. Upon further inspection, he realises he's not in his own home.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Hurts.”

Jeongguk looks distasteful as he hums in understanding, nodding. He reaches out to grab a glass of water, coaxing Jimin into a sitting position as he helps him take a sip.

“Do you remember anything from last night?”

Jimin pauses, not wanting to remember but he can't help it when he's addressed so clearly. The events flood his mind as he bites his lip, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“Y-yeah,” he exhales. “That man, he hurt me. I didn't do anything wrong. I tried to fight.”

More sympathy pours into Jeongguk’s expression. He looks pained as he nods.

“I know.”

“Then, you took me to a girl’s house. Stitches?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed. Jeongguk’s hand lightly brushes against his forehead where his head pounds, a tender touch that makes Jimin’s chest feel light. “They'll come out in a week’s time.”

“That hurts, too.”

“I'm sorry.” His lips curl downwards some more. “We couldn't take you to a hospital, we had to make do.”

There's a pause before Jimin asks.

“I'm okay?”

Jeongguk looks down at him with a serious expression, nodding.

“Yeah. You're okay, we've got you.”

Jimin’s relieved. The pain from yesterday had been enough to keep him out of his senses for the rest of the night, falling to a serene sleep as soon as he had hit the covers. He hadn't paused to ask where he was, who he was with—he was out like a light.

Though the pain is still present, it's almost bearable.

Jimin nods at Jeongguk because for once, he believes the younger man. Despite his hazy memories, he can remember Jeongguk taking care of him. He can remember his frantic, yet trying to be composed, voice and holding his hand.

It shouldn't cause a spark to fly through him, but it does anyway.

“Why are you here?” Jimin finally asks. “I thought you hated me.”

Jeongguk looks down at him, visibly wincing as he sets the glass down. He walks around to the other side of the bed, sitting himself down. He looks as young as he is, vulnerability shining into every feature of his.

“I don't.” He pauses. “But I understand why you think I do.”

Jimin blinks. “You hated me, for the paintings and—”

Jeongguk shakes his head, hand reaching out hesitantly to hold over Jimin's still tangled up in the sheets. His voice sounds strained but his eyes are sincere.

“I was angry, yeah but it was unjust and I've never hated you.”

Jimin, even in his medicated induced state, has a distinct feeling of Jeongguk lying. He has always hated him, always treated him differently for reasons beyond his understanding.

He takes a deep breath and decides against arguing, because his bones ache and his muscles scream with intensity.

“Does my hyung’s know I'm here? Did anyone tell them I didn't come home?”

Jeongguk looks a little surprised, shaking his head slowly.

“No, no. I have no idea who you live with or how to contact them.”

“Didn't Taehyung—?”

Jeongguk bites his lip at that, more concern flooding his expression. He looks small like this, with so much worry overtaking his beautiful face.

Jimin's reaching out to touch his face before he can stop himself, cupping his cheeks and looking him in the eye.

For a second, Jeongguk indulges. He leans into the touch and closes his eyes.

“Taehyung's not here.” He breathes out.

Jimin furrows his brow at that, another hundred questions taking over. He has so many things to ask and not many answers to be given. He looks at Jeongguk and sees his tortured expression, how hurt he seems at the mention of Taehyung and decides against asking.

“Okay. I need to call my roommates, then.”

Jeongguk nods as he moves off the bed, walking over to the side and retrieving his phone. It's a little beaten up but it's in working condition.

“Here you go.”

It hurts to talk properly so Jimin decides to text them, deciding against giving details of his current state and just telling them he's alive, well and at Taehyung’s apartment.

“Thanks.” He drops the phone into the table. “Did you even sleep, Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk looks up when he's addressed to, sitting back down on the foot of the bed. He looks so small, trying to make his frame even smaller as he curls into himself. It pings at Jimin’s chest, for a bizarre reason, not used to seeing him like this.

“I… uh, tried.” He admits lowly as he runs a hand through his hair, crossing his legs. “But it was hard and Yoongi hyung came to visit.”

Jimin nods. “What's the time?”

“Like, well into the afternoon. 5:30pm.”

He sighs, not remembering a single instance he had been able to sleep for so long. He rolls around on the bed, trying to get up.

“My legs feel like jelly. I need to walk around.”

Jeongguk laughs a little, his eyes crinkling and it relieves Jimin to see a reaction that's not subdued. He gets off the bed and walks around to Jimin’s side but he doesn't offer any help, allowing Jimin to ease up himself which he appreciates.

He wonders how Jeongguk had been able to get up in the morning after his loss and walked around, preparing breakfast.

With every step that Jimin takes, the pain gets more noticeable. It burns through his body, in his chest, mostly in his head as the headache threatens to take over. His brain feels too large for his skull, the hammering sensation on the right side of his head prominent.

“Shit.” He breathes out.

Jeongguk turns to look at him, raising a brow.

“Y’alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just… it's painful.”

“I know but you can't have anymore painkillers for another few hours. I think some food will do you some good, I made pancakes earlier.”

Jimin pauses, a grin taking over his lips.

“You? Pancakes?”

Jeongguk’s scandalised as he lets out a sound, arching a brow.

“Why the hell not? I can make pancakes, it’s Taehyung’s recipe!”

As soon as the name of their other friend is mentioned, the room falls silent. Jimin knows now that something is seriously wrong, that something happened between the two of them. The absence and the serene quietness of the apartment is unusual.

But Jimin waits for the right moment before asking, waiting to see whether or not it's a good decision to bring it up at all.

“Then, they must be perfect.” He settles on saying.

Jeongguk’s smile is strained and he doesn't comment further, simply guiding Jimin to the couch before he goes into the kitchen and grabs the pancakes. He drizzles a serving of maple syrup on top before bringing them back, handing it to Jimin.

Jimin smiles widely as he accepts the plate.

“Thank you.”

Jeongguk hums as he sits down besides Jimin on the couch, keeping a safe distance.

“Tell me how they taste,” he asks softly.

Jimin nods as he grabs the utensils, cutting off a little piece and putting it into his mouth. It hurts to nibble on the food in his mouth, his jaw aching to move and his bruises feeling more obvious on his face.

He pushes through, though. He swallows the bite of pancake and humming pleasantly at the taste of the ripe bananas, the perfect balance between sweet and salt.

“It's perfect,” Jimin promises as he swallows another bite, realising how hungry he is now that he's finally eating. “So, so good.”

Jeongguk laughs a little, a fond smile taking over his lips as he nods.

“I try.”

They sit in silence for a while as Jimin finishes his food and puts the empty plate down, snuggling further into the couch and attempting to get comfortable. Exhaustion still lingers in his body and he feels like no amount of sleep will erase it.

“Can I ask you something?” Jeongguk breaks the silence.

Jimin raises his head when addressed to, nodding.

“Of course.”

“Why were you at the warehouse yesterday? I mean, did you not stop and think that it was incredibly dangerous and a fucking stupid idea.”

His tone is sharp but his eyes are nothing but concerned, swimming with emotions that he can't conceal no matter how hard he tries.

Jimin halts as he considers his words, wringing his fingers together.

“I came there to apologise.” He began to say. “After the exhibit, I had felt so bad and I hated that you felt so embarrassed by my paintings. I know it was an invasion of your privacy, and I knew I had to say sorry. I thought catching you at the warehouse was the best bet, so I arrived there. I saw Taehyung and ignored him, walked inside without catching his attention.”

Jimin pauses to look at Jeongguk’s expression who has completely closed off, not revealing much of anything. He sits straight, hanging off every word so Jimin continues.

“So, Taehyung didn't see you?”

He shakes his head. “Nope.” Jeongguk bites his lip and nods, prompting him to continue. “But I obviously didn't know I'd be made to fight and, well—you know what happened next.”

Jeongguk closes his eyes briefly, letting out a heavy sigh before he reopens and focuses on Jimin.

“Jimin,” he says. His voice doesn't waver, strong and demanding to be heard. “It's an illegal organisation. If anyone finds out, everyone including me is going to be prosecuted so hence, anyone who enters must fight because they become a part of it.”

Realisation dawns on him as everything clicks into place. Taehyung never goes inside the warehouse himself, always opting to wait outside as opposed to watching Jeongguk fight. He wonders why he had never been able to piece the puzzle himself before.

“Oh…” he clears his throat. “That actually makes sense. Shit.”

“So, yeah. They make you fight so they have dirt on you and I wish someone had told you that before because you really got hurt, Jimin.”

Jimin snorts as he looks down upon his frail body, not even needing to glance at himself in the mirror to know his face is disfigured. He feels it and that's enough for him to know it's not a pretty sight.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologise, Jimin. Fuck’s sake.”

“No, but I am.” He shakes his head and looks up to make eye contact with Jeongguk. “I should've stayed away, waited to talk to you elsewhere than the warehouse and I got myself into trouble and put you and Yoongi through misery, too.”

Jeongguk smiles gingerly, shrugging as he grabs a cushion and pulls apart the threads hanging loosely.

“What's happened has happened now, there's nothing we can do.”

Jimin hums as he gulps, hesitating before he asks his next question.

“Why did you get into underground fighting?”

The question seems to throw Jeongguk off because he pauses where he's fiddling with the cushion, looking up bewildered. Jimin almost immediately wants to retract his words, shove them down back his throat because he knows he's crossing a boundary with that question but he can't help the budding curiosity.

“It's not something I talk about.” He replies carefully, eyes changing to guarded as he holds himself together. “But all I know is, I'm lucky to have met Yoongi hyung when I did because without him, I wouldn't be here.”

It doesn't answer the question he asked but it's more information than he had expected to get so he nods, soaking it up. He already knows Jeongguk and Yoongi share a special bond and it's obvious in the way they treat each other, how it's all tough love but obvious concern beneath it all.

Jimin hums with the reply he gets and nods. “Yoongi hyung is a great man.”

“He is, yeah.”

They sit together in silence. Jeongguk turns the TV on and has the news playing in the background, the noise acting like a lullaby for Jimin as he falls asleep on the couch.

Yoongi enters the apartment with his spare keys with an impassive, unimpressed look painted over his expression. His lips pulled in a tight frown, running a hand through his key as he stuffs the keys in his pocket.

Jeongguk’s waiting for him in the kitchen, sitting on the stool as he fiddles with his phone as a means of distraction.

It’s ten pm and Jimin’s still asleep, having been in and out of consciousness for most of the day and he hopes he’ll remain in the same state for the rest of the night. It’s only been one day since the attack so no doubt, Jimin’s still feeling hazy from the pain that he’s probably still feeling.

“Where’s Taehyung?” Jeongguk asks.

Yoongi shrugs, looking exasperated as he walks to the kitchen counter. He pulls a cigarette out from his pocket and lighting it up, eyes dulled.

“No sign of him anywhere.”

“Fuck.” He breathes out, a heavy sigh escaping his lip. He can’t help but feel concerned about Taehyung, wondering where the man could’ve gone.

“He’ll come back around, don’t worry.”

It’s meant to be reassuring but Jeongguk knows Taehyung, has spent enough years with his best friend to know how Taehyung functions. Once he realises he’s not wanted somewhere, he’ll extract himself from the equation and refrain from returning at all. He doesn’t want to entertain the idea of having completely lost Taehyung but he knows it’s a possibility and it makes Jeongguk’s chest constrict.

Despite his anger that still burns inside of him, there’s remorse for the words he said and there’s the need to make things better.

Yoongi pauses before he speaks up again.

“I know it’s the last place you want to be right now but, you didn’t collect your winning money yesterday and they want you at the warehouse to do that.”

Jeongguk blinks a few times at Yoongi’s words.

“You want me to go there, now?”

He shrugs. “You have to.”

It really isn’t the place he wants to go to. There’s still bold resentment running through his veins, he still feels the need to inflict pain on someone else for what Jimin had to endure yesterday. If he goes back there and comes face to face who’ll push him to the edge, he knows he’ll lash out—it’s the only thing he knows how to do.

When Yoongi promises to watch over Jimin whilst he’s gone, Jeongguk finally makes the move to leave.

Yoongi’s giving him a stern glance as Jeongguk grabs his car keys, leaving the apartment. He pulls the hood over his head as he navigates through the quiet streets of Seoul. The closer he gets to the location, the further deserted and quiet the roads become.

Jeongguk keeps the hood over his head, pulling a black surgical mask over his face to conceal himself. He doesn’t want any prying eyes, he doesn’t want anyone to stop and attempt to talk to him. His patience has been running out and being back in this toxic environment, it only aids towards his foul mood.

Jeongguk hasn’t slept. There’s fatigue that settles in his bones, making each step feel heavier than the last. His head spins as he walks down the steps, into the basement where he’s met with the smoke haze and the stench of weed, once again.

He walks right in, towards the referee, avoiding anyone else’s gaze though eyes burn into him.

Jeongguk can hear them whispering and talking, he can distinctly hear the mention Jimin being discussed. He takes a deep breath, trying to sort through his thoughts before he loses his mind.

The referee looks amused upon recognising Jeongguk, sitting on his seat and fiddling with notes in his hands. He tilts his head, analysing the younger man’s expression properly before he puts out the cigarette he’s holding.

“You didn’t collect your prize for yesterday’s win.” He informs.

Yesterday’s fight, and win, is a distinct memory. Jeongguk can barely remember anything else besides Jimin, the boy flooding every one of his thoughts and making it hard to focus on anything else. Yesterday’s fight is nothing worth importance to him now but he has to keep up appearances, never seem suspicious.

“Yeah. I forgot.”

The man nods as he sorts through the money in his hand, dividing them into equal piles before stuffing one of them into an envelope. He’s midway handing it over to Jeongguk before he pauses.

“So, how’s your friend doing?”

Jeongguk’s jaw clenches and he’s grateful for the mask that disguises the distaste written over his features.

“Give me my money.” He refuses to dwell in small talk, not wanting to indulge the man with the words he wants to hear.

The referee looks like he wants to push Jeongguk’s buttons, looks close to doing so as well before he refrains himself. Instead, he licks his lips and merely nods. The envelope is given to him and Jeongguk doesn’t even bother counting the money. He doesn’t care for it. He stuffs it into his jacket pocket, turning on his heel and walking away.

That is until a deep voice drawls out, calling for his attention.

“Is that Jeongguk?” The voice says, he faintly recognises as Jan’s voice. “Is that you? I didn’t think you’d show your face here again. Not after how bad I embarrassed you and your friends.”

Jeongguk fists his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He’s being provoked and he can sense the smirk in Jan’s voice. He’s getting a sick satisfaction from the entire situation, knowing he took advantage of someone who was helpless and defeating them so mercilessly and painfully.

The people gathered around Jan start to laugh, looking pleased with the joke.

Jeongguk shakes his head. He can hear Yoongi’s voice ringing clear to him, reminding him never to cause fights he can’t finish in the underground circle unless they’re in the ring. Jeongguk forces Jan’s voice in the back of his mind, somewhere he can’t access before he begins to walk out of the warehouse.

There’s cheers and his name is being called out to him but he refuses to look back. Jeongguk feels light-hearted with the fury that almost consumes him whole, willing his feet to take him quicker out of the warehouse.

He’s halfway to his car when Jan’s voice is behind him, calling out to him in the open.

“Jeongguk!” Jan’s laughing, approaching him hastily. “Why’re you running away so fast, huh?”

He refuses to indulge Jan’s twisted illusions, refuses to turn back around and face him. Jeongguk grabs his car keys but there’s a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to stop from taking the actions. He snatches his arm back, taking a step away from Jan who’s up in his space now.

“What the fuck do you want?” Jeongguk spits.

Jeongguk pulls the mask down, revealing his entire face to Jan. They’re standing before each other. There’s no barriers between them any longer. He can see Jan’s expression now properly in the moonlight, amusement tingling in his features and the sides of his lips twitching in a smirk.

“Was that your boyfriend last night?” Jan tilts his head to the side, giving off a faux remorse face. “I’m sorry for hurting him, he really is useless, huh?”

It makes his blood boil but Jeongguk knows reacting will only provoke the response Jan’s seeking hard for, wanting to dig his fingers right where it’ll force him to respond in one way or another.

Jeongguk gives him an unimpressed, flat look. He hopes it portrays how immature he finds Jan’s tactics, hurting someone defenceless and looking smug about it the day afterwards. It, oddly, reminds him of his father.

He turns back around, ready to get into his car and drive off when Jan shoves him roughly.

The push catches him off guard, not having anticipating it. He shouldn’t be so careless. Never turn your back on a man.

He stumbles into the door of his car, his lips catching the side as pain explodes through his veins. He curses under his breath, standing up quickly and adjusting. He brings his fingers to his lips, feeling the warm wetness of his own blood staining them. Jeongguk has had enough. He’s been trying to keep a hold over himself but he keeps getting tested, continuously being put through tribulations.

Jeongguk laughs humorlessly, the sound empty to even his own ears.

“You’re really going to regret that.”

He surges forward and catches Jan on the jaw, the first of his punches being delivered. Jan groans as he moves backwards, trying to adjust. As he moves to hit Jeongguk back, the younger man takes advantage of the moment. He grabs Jan into a headlock, sending him crashing into the ground. He’s reminded of the fact that they’re no longer in the ring, there’s no rules holding him back. He can do what he likes. He can terrorise what part of Jan’s body he pleases, nothing off limits.

Once Jan’s on the ground, Jeongguk uses his legs to stomp down on his body repeatedly.

The frustration, the outrage he had felt yesterday when he had watched Jimin get battered overcomes him like a rush. He’s reminded of the entire day of nursing Jimin back to health, feeding him painkillers at three in the morning when Jimin’s body was shaking with the force of the pain.

Jeongguk’s blood runs cold and his mind becomes blank, nothing but revenge and the need to make it hurt back overcoming him.

Jan’s screaming, shouts of pain escaping his lips. He looks so small, cowered on the floor and his arms up uselessly to defend his face.

“How the fuck does it feel now, huh?” Jeongguk hisses, leaning in to kick him once again.

He only feels satisfied when there’s a snap of Jan’s body, presumably his ribs. He takes a step back and observes the damage he’s done. He knows, already, his actions will come back to bite him in the ass but for now, he can’t even dwell on the thought.

Because Jan’s on the floor before him, seething under his breath as his frame shakes with the force of Jeongguk’s torture.

Jeongguk crouches down besides Jan, tangling his hand in the older man’s greasy strands of hair. He tugs up so their faces meet and he spits on the floor besides him, leaning in to whisper.

“This is for what you did to Jimin.”

Chapter Text

When Jimin wakes up next, it’s morning again. The sunlight filters in through the blinds, brightening up the room. His eyes flutter open as he yawns behind his fist. The pain in his body is still present but it’s subdued, more manageable now. He can move without feeling a shoot of something indescribable.

He’s alone in the bedroom. On the side table, there’s two painkiller tablets and a glass of water waiting for him.

Jimin takes a moment before begrudgingly moving towards the pills, swallowing and washing it down with a water. He hopes they’ll aid in helping the headache that’s been a constant thud in the front of his head.

When he lays back down, he takes a moment to observe his surroundings. He notices he’s in Taehyung’s room but no sight of Taehyung. He realises that it’s been awhile since he’s heard or talked to Taehyung and he frowns, wondering where the boy is.

Jimin rubs his eyes with the back of his hand and after a few more minutes, he reluctantly tears the duvet off his body. He gets out of bed, glancing in the mirror before him. He stares at his own reflection for the first time since the fight.

Jimin almost wishes he hadn’t.

His face is badly bruised, angry noticeable purple colour that takes over most of his features. His cheeks are swollen and puffy, cuts around the edges of his lips from where it’s been busted open. His forehead cut has prominent stitches, the wound still looking intimidatingly horrifying.

Jimin swallows and forces to divert his gaze elsewhere. He needs a shower and a change of clothes. He picks out a top and jeans from Taehyung’s wardrobe, hoping the man wouldn’t mind as he starts up the shower. It’s a little difficult to manage, having to cover his forehead to ensure no water hits the stitches and he hisses at the temperature of the water hitting his bruises.

Once he’s done, he walks into the living room.

Jeongguk sits on the couch. He looks younger than his age, in a heart wrenching manner. He sits in a vulnerable position, legs up to his chest and arms wrapped around himself as he intently watches the news but looking hundred miles away. He has a protein shake sitting before him but it’s untouched.

“Hey…” Jimin announces his presence.

Jeongguk jumps, startled from the voice. He slowly turns back around to face him, eyes wandering over his face as he inspects the damage before he nods. He pats the space besides him, letting his legs down to touch the ground.

“Sit.”

Jimin limps over, trying to conceal his pained groans by biting down his lip. He’s trying to downplay the amount of pain that still lingers in his body. He’s tired of the concerned glances that Jeongguk keeps throwing him. He lowers himself down onto the couch and is grateful when Jeongguk doesn’t comment.

They don’t speak for a minute or two. Jeongguk finally picks up the shake, hesitantly taking a sip before putting it back down. It’s insufferable so Jimin decides to break it first.

“I have to go back to my apartment today. My roommates have been worried.”

Jeongguk waits a beat before he looks over, a small smile taking over as understanding pours over his features.

“Sure. Would you like some breakfast first?”

Jimin can’t deny him anything so he simply nods which prompts Jeongguk to hand Jimin the remote, getting off the couch. He walks into the kitchen where he rummages through the fridge, picking up the bread loaf and two eggs. Jimin diverts his attention towards the TV, allowing the man to work as he flicks through the channels.

Ten minutes later, Jeongguk brings back toast and fried eggs for him with a glass of orange juice.

“Thank you,” Jimin says appreciatively as he takes the plate off him.

Jeongguk shrugs as he sits back down, gazing back on the TV. He radiates a different type of aura today, unusually quiet. Normally, he demands attention just by his stance but today, he seems to be making himself appear smaller, has no words to supply nor any conversation to make. It unnerves Jimin a little, accustomed a completely different Jeongguk but he tries not to pay any heed to it. He rips off the bread, eating it alongside the eggs.

“Are you going back to university soon?” Jeongguk breaks the quietness to ask, not looking away from the TV screen.

“Mhm. When I’ve healed, yeah. I’m graduating this year so I can’t slip up.”

Jeongguk nods. “Good, I wouldn’t of liked it if you went in this state.”

Jimin can’t help but let out a little laugh as he chews. “I’m not like you, Jeongguk. I wouldn’t be up and trying to be a hero right after I got hurt.”

Finally, a genuine smile flashes across Jeongguk’s face. He turns to look at him and Jimin takes the liberty to inspect his features properly. There’s something eerily beautiful about Jeongguk, always causing Jimin’s heart to give out but as he looks closer, he notices Jeongguk’s bust and swollen lip. Jimin lowers the forkful of food.

“Jeongguk… what’s this?” Jimin asks, leaning in to gently poke at the injured area.

The younger man seems to have forgotten about his lip because his eyes widen in surprise, quickly jerking his head out of the touch and facing the other direction. Jimin waits for an answer as the room falls into silence, once again. Until Jeongguk finally answers, his voice low.

“It’s nothing. It’s not a big deal.”

His tone sounds anything but convincing and Jimin refuses to accept the answer, immediately shaking his head.

“It’s not nothing. You didn’t have a bust lip before and—”

“Jimin.” Jeongguk’s firm tone cuts in, effectively ending all conversation. He glances over, a hard look taking over. “I said, it’s nothing and I really don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Jimin’s mouth clamps shut immediately. There’s many questions he wants to ask, he knows there’s an underlying reason to the bust lip. But he knows he’s not going to get any answers, not when Jeongguk looks certain not to speak about it.

“Fine.”

Jimin finishes up his breakfast and takes the plate into the kitchen, washing up despite Jeongguk’s complaints. He doesn’t listen. He insists it’s the least he can do after Jeongguk has helped him through the past two days, nursing him back to health and taking care of his medication timings.

Once they’re ready, Jeongguk grabs his car keys and ushers Jimin out of the apartment. He unlocks his Porsche, waiting for Jimin to settle in before the car purrs to life and they’re driving in the direction of Jimin’s apartment. It’s barely a fifteen minutes drive and they don’t speak of the duration, letting the radio provide efficient background noise.

“Jeongguk,” Jimin says as the younger man parks up his car, cutting off the engine. “Where is Taehyung?”

The younger man halts for a second before he moves to the turn the radio off, turning to look at Jimin. There’s something undetectable in his features, something oddly close to remorse as he sighs.

“I don’t know. He’ll call you, I’m sure.”

It’s not an answer that helps to ease any of Jimin’s concerns. He hasn’t heard from Taehyung at all, not a single text or call. He had expected Taehyung to, at least, ask about his condition after he got attacked. He knows Taehyung cares, know their friendship is strong so the radio silence hurts Jimin more than he likes to admit.

“Did I do something to upset him?” He pushes on. “He’s been absent since the fight and I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault?”

“It’s not you. I’m sure he’s just taking some time out from the whole situation, y’know?”

Jimin doesn’t understand. But he nods and accepts the answer anyway, vowing to himself that he’ll continue to try and contact him until he gets an answer. If not, he’ll spam Taehyung’s voicemail until his friend is obliged to reply.

“Um… also,” Jimin pauses where he’s about to remove his seatbelt. “What do I tell my roommates about this?” He gestures to his disfigured face.

Jeongguk seems to pause at the question, features contemplative as a sigh escapes his lips.

“We can’t say anything about the underground fighting.”

“I know.” Jimin pauses. “Can you come upstairs with me to talk to tell them? They’ll never believe me otherwise and they’ll only cause an issue.”

Jeongguk visibly hesitates, biting his lip.

Jimin’s not sure why he had suggested the idea in the first place. He just doesn’t like lying to Hoseok and Namjoon and perhaps, it’ll feel somewhat easier if Jeongguk’s presence is there to explain.

“Fine.” Jeongguk relents as he grabs the keys from the ignition, climbing out of the car.

Jimin leads them into the building, up the stairs. It’s a little difficult to climb two stories, his body protesting with each step but he manages with patience. Jeongguk’s right behind and whilst he doesn’t supply any help, it’s still comforting to know he’s right behind to catch him if he falls.

Hoseok retrieves the door, smiling widely as soon as he notices Jimin which only fades upon second glances.

“What the fuck, Jimin?” His voice is barely above a whisper as his eyes dart frantically across his face, trying to make sense of the scene before him. “What the hell happened, Min?”

Namjoon wanders to the door. There’s a kitchen towel that he’s handing his hands on but only drops it to the floor when he sees Jimin, his jaw slackening, walking right over.

“Jiminie?” He says, panicked.

Jimin feels his chest swell with the fondness that erupts within him at his friend's’ concern that they throw towards him readily. He’s truly blessed with roommates and brothers that always look out for him, tend for him which is why lying to them will feel that much worst.

“Guys. I’m fine, don’t worry.” He tries to reassure.

Hoseok looks murderous. “Don’t you dare tell me not to worry!” He pauses as he tries to usher Jimin into the apartment, noticing the second figure standing by the doorway. “Who’s that?”

The three of them look back to stare at Jeongguk who stands meekly. His face is hidden in the shadows and he seems to be trying to make himself appear smaller, wrapping an arm around himself. Hoseok inspects him up and down, eyes narrowing at his face and then stands defensively by the door and not extending the invitation.

Jimin almost laughs at his friend’s behaviour. He reaches over, tugging Jeongguk into the apartment and closing the door behind them.

“This is Jeongguk, he’s the man that’s been training me and taking care of me for the past two days.”

Hoseok and Namjoon both look at Jeongguk, faces remaining impassive. Hoseok diverts his attention back to Jimin, though. He drags the younger boy to the light, holding his chin so he can take a better look at his bruises before he throws daggers back in Jeongguk’s direction.

“Would you like to explain what happened to Jimin?” Hoseok asks.

Jeongguk clears his throat, looking almost relieved to be directly addressed to. He takes a step forward, keeping his head bowed a little to retain the utmost respect towards Hoseok and Namjoon. It’s a little mesmerising to watch, so unlike Jeongguk who usually holds his chin up in the air high and sneers upon people below him.

“It was an unfortunate car accident.” Jeongguk lies right through his teeth, features remaining completely composed as his eyes dart from Namjoon to Hoseok. It sounds believable and Jimin’s jaw slackens. “I was the one driving. It happened quickly, the car didn’t slow down at the junction and collided with ours. As you can see, I got away fairly luckily,” he gestures to his lip. “Jimin, not so much.”

There’s silence that follows after his explanation. Jimin stares at Jeongguk before he swallows, looking back at Hoseok. The older man doesn’t look the slightest bit convinced, neither does Namjoon but neither of them voice their opinion.

“Shit, man,” Namjoon finally mumbles as he walks over to Jimin, gently rubbing his shoulder. “You okay now, though?”

Jimin nods, gesturing to his stitches. “Just this left to take out. We’ll be okay.”

They both look uncertain, though. Hoseok’s eyes keep wandering to Jeongguk and giving him narrowed, precise looks as if Jeongguk. He takes a moment before he composes himself, taking a deep breath.

“Well. Thank you for taking care of him, then and thank you for training him. He really needs it.”

Discomfort crosses Jeongguk’s face and he doesn’t react for a moment, even with three pairs of eyes drilling into him. Finally, he nods with a little shrug. He’s fiddling with his car keys, the smile on his face looking more painful than reassuring like he’s not accustomed to such a situation.

“It’s not a problem.”

“Ah, c’mere.” Namjoon pulls Jimin into an embrace next, catching him off guard with the sudden surge of affection. Jimin sinks into the hug though, feeling waves of his anxiety washing off now that his friends have believed him though the guilt may consume him whole. He snuggles into Namjoon, taking a deep breath.

Jimin knows no matter what happens, he’ll always a home to return to with his two accepting older brothers. He knows he doesn’t deserve them. They’re patient with him through every ordeal, they practically hold his hand and help guide him through every situation whether or not it’s ideal. Jimin’s lying to them and they’ve believed him and he feels a terrible trinkle of guilt drip down his spine.

“Be safe, Min.” Namjoon’s muttering quietly as he pulls away. “You idiot.”

Jimin laughs when he pulls away, forcing to remain level headed as he runs a hand through his matted hair.

“I’m sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to scare you both.”

Hoseok nods in Jimin’s direction before he walks towards the kitchen, grabbing a few ingredients.

“Let’s prepare dinner together and then we can sit and talk all about it.”

Namjoon follows after him in agreement, flicking through a recipe book as they decide what they want to cook together. Jimin watches them fondly before his eyes flicker back to Jeongguk who still stands awkwardly in the doorway, stance uncomfortable. Jimin halts, watching him carefully.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Jimin suggests.

Jeongguk’s eyes move to look at him, the sides of his lips twitching slightly upwards before he decides against it and shakes his head.

“As nice as the offer sounds, I need to go. Yoongi hyung called me to the gym.”

Of course, Jeongguk wouldn’t stay. Why would he stay? They’re not friends, they were only interacting because Jimin’s hurt but now he’s safe and sound back in the sanctuary of his own apartment. He nods, not surprised at all by his verdict.

“Of course. Sure.”

Hoseok’s watching their interaction carefully with trained eyes, flickering between Jimin and Jeongguk and he doesn’t provide any words. He doesn’t ask Jeongguk whether or not he wants to stay. Namjoon doesn’t look up from the recipe book, rambling under his breath to himself.

Jimin glances back to his friends desperately and that seems to ping something in Hoseok because he clears his throat and says.

“Jimin’s saviour, would you like to stay for dinner?”

Jeongguk releases a laugh. “I’m far from Jimin’s saviour,” he replies back with hardened eyes. He looks a at Jimin. “I’ll see you around, Jimin. We need to go to Soomin in a week’s time to get your stitches out, I’ll come here and pick you up.”

Jimin smiles as he nods, liking the reassurance that they’ll be meeting again in a week’s time. Despite their differences, the last two days have proven that somewhere, deep down, Jeongguk cares. He had tended for Jimin, taken care of him and nursed him back to health in a way that wasn’t overbearing.

“Well. As long as you won’t back to hating, cursing and ignoring me. Will you?”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply for a second before he shakes his head. “If ignoring you leads to you getting beaten the shit out of, I might just have to stop.”

Jimin’s grins a little as he rolls his eyes. He hopes Jeongguk will stick to his word. He can’t stand it when people hold grudges against it and that’s all it’s been with Jeongguk. A constant on and off, hot and cold. But Jeongguk’s here, standing in a situation that’s clearly agonising for him with Hoseok’s stony eyes burning holes into him and he’s not running a mile.

It means something to Jimin. Even if the gesture is small, it means something to him.

“You better fucking not,” he mumbles seriously. “I won’t be so nice next time.”

Jeongguk half smirks, the right side of his mouth lifting up.

“You can come to the gym any time, if you’d like,” he offers. “I’m going to be preparing for my next fight with Yoongi and Seokjin hyung so we’ll be there all the time.”

Jimin’s not sure he’ll indulge on the offer. Every time he goes to the gym, something bad happens. He’s always leaving the gym in tears, with some sort of new scars on his hearts and he wants to avoid it as much as possible. But Jeongguk’s giving him a sincere look, eyes wavering with emotions that he can’t bring to his mouth.

“I’ll think about it.”

Jeongguk nods. “Well, I better head out, then.” He cranes his head around to glance properly at Hoseok and Namjoon who are still gawking at him. “Thanks for the dinner offer but I’ll let you guys be. Thanks.” Hoseok and Namjoon both chant out a goodbye. Jeongguk’s eyes focus back on Jimin, a small smile reserved just for him. “Take care of yourself. I’ll see you soon.”

Jimin feels warmth spread across his chest as he nods, waving a little awkwardly from where he sees.

“See you later.”

As soon as Jeongguk leaves and the door to the apartment shuts, Hoseok drops what he’s doing and he walks over to Jimin. He grips onto Jimin’s shoulder gently as if not to hurt him and shakes him roughly, eyes glaring into him.

“He’s the man that’s training you? Is he the man who ignored you after you sucked his dick?” He demands to know.

Jimin considers lying but he’s done enough of it, especially when his roommates deserve none of it. So, he nods with a sigh.

“Yeah.”

Hoseok clicks his tongue in distaste, letting go of Jimin. “What an asshole, and he had the nerve to come into my apartment.”

“You just greeted him normally!”

“Because well. I needed the confirmation he was that asshole and also, I can’t exactly lash out on him when he delivers you home and you tell me he’s been taking care of you,” Hoseok sighs as he looks over Jimin’s battered down face, face contorting to something pained. “But I’d love to give him a piece of my fucking mind, someday.”

Jimin doesn’t blame Hoseok. He understands the need his friend feels to stand up for his honour. Hoseok doesn’t know half of the damage Jeongguk’s caused, the crying and the constant pushing into areas that dig deep into Jimin. He smiles at Hoseok reassuringly, guiding them back into the kitchen.

“I think we’re going to be fine now.” He promises.

Hoseok arches a brow and he doesn’t seem convinced in the slightest as he starts to gather the ingredients for the recipe Namjoon has selected.

“I swear to God, Jimin, he better be treating you better.”

Jimin pauses for a second before he shrugs. He can’t confirm nor deny that statement for the time being. Whilst the past two days have been blissful with Jeongguk’s attention on him—it’s also because he’s been in pain. He’s been writhing, struggling and unable to get by without a help of hand. Whether Jeongguk remains the same after he starts to recover is a question he can’t answer.

Deep down, Jimin knows Jeongguk’s only helping him out of guilt. Perhaps, out of obligation. Once he’s recovered, Jeongguk’s possibly going to run his mouth again but this time, Jimin will be ready for it.

He won’t allow Jeongguk to make him cry again.

‘I know about Jan. Come to the gym asap.’

Jeongguk keeps rereading the text message from Yoongi as he drives down to the gym, already dreading the reaction he’s going to receive. He had no doubts that Yoongi would, eventually, find out through word of mouth but he also knows Yoongi’s got it all wrong. He’s heard wrong. He works so hard to please Yoongi and he’s always eager for his approval and praise. There has never been an instance he’s wanted to disappoint Yoongi, inflict pain upon him. Yoongi’s the closest to a father figure he’s ever had.

Yoongi has been a steady presence in his life since he was fifteen-years old and he was homeless. He took Jeongguk into his life, under his wings. He gave Jeongguk a place to stay. He never showered Jeongguk with unnecessary affection or words, always straight to the point with brutal honesty. Sometimes, it was raw and painful but it was appreciated. Yoongi is the only man he looks up to.

So, naturally, disappointing him physically pangs him. He’s not prepared to hear Yoongi lash out at him with his words and he can feel the impending bad mood the minute he parks up his car and enters the gym.

The room has been darkened, no lights illuminating the small space. Yoongi sits on the seats, fiddling with the tape as a means of distraction. Seokjin’s standing, pacing around the room with a can of Red Bull in his hand though he doesn’t stop to take a sip of the drink.

Jeongguk clears his throat, announcing his arrival.

“I made it.”

Yoongi’s head snaps up and there’s relief that registers in his features as soon as he hears his voice. He stands up and looks over to him with long, urgent strides, grabbing ahold of Jeongguk’s chin and tilting his head back. He inspects the bust lip carefully before he clicks his tongue distastefully, dropping his face.

“You’re insane.” Is all he says.

“I’m not badly hurt. He barely managed to get more than two blows in. I’m okay, really.”

“Don’t tell me you’re okay when you’re standing before me with a bust lip.”

“It’s just a bust lip.”

Yoongi pauses as he looks up to him again, defeat washing over his features as he releases a sigh. He waits for another second before shaking his head, withdrawing a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it up. He retreats back to his seat, sitting down as he takes a drag.

The strange silence unsettles Jeongguk. He had expected harsh words to be thrown in his direction, words to cut dig deep into him to prove he had made a mistake.

“Is everything okay?” Jeongguk asks suspiciously.

Both pairs of wild eyes peer up to Jeongguk but neither of them reply immediately. Yoongi only clicks his tongue again, diverting his attention elsewhere as he stares hard into the wall before him. The reluctance of Yoongi to speak to him pings at Jeongguk’s chest, almost wanting to get to his knees and pleading if it means Yoongi will stop acting indifferent towards him.

Jeongguk crosses his arm, waiting for either man to speak and explain what’s going on.

Seokjin’s the one that finally steps up to the task, clearing his throat as he takes another sip of the energy drink before discarding of the can.

“You know you managed to get Jan really bad?”

Jeongguk nods. He knows the amount casualty he had delivered. He remembers hearing bones break and keep going. It’s not an achievement to him, it’s something that he had to do.

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Well.” Seokjin smiles wryly, shaking his head slowly. “Jeongguk, you’ve started a war.”

Silence fills the gym after his words as Jeongguk attempts to reel around the words and process them. He looks to Yoongi who absolutely refuses to look back at him, fingers shaking over the cigarette he’s holding but trying not to let his true emotions slip and reveal.

“I don’t understand?” Jeongguk finally replies, furrowing his brows.

Seokjin takes a moment before replying. “Jan told the fighters in the circle that you attacked him outside of the ring—which is, obviously, not prohibited—and now they’re onto you for being disloyal and for hurting Jan.”

“He attacked me first!” Jeongguk raises his voice in defence, rendered completely bewildered. “He came onto me outside the warehouse, he shoved me into my car! I was only defending and honestly, he deserved everything that he had coming!”

Seokjin lips twist into a frown. He sighs loudly as he resigns from the situation, going to sit down besides Yoongi.

Yoongi finally looks up. “Did he bust your lip first?”

“Yeah.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow dangerously. He takes a moment before he curses under his breath, the vulgar words coming out like a stream as he kicks the leg of the chair before him roughly out of frustration. Jeongguk watches him unravel slowly, unable to provide any words of comfort because ‘war’ is still spinning in his mind.

“Who the fuck does this man think he is?” Yoongi’s ranting angrily, spitting on the ground. His frame shakes a little with the velocity of his words. “First he fucking beats the shit out of that kid and then he tries to attack you? Fuck’s sake! I’ll end his fucking life!”

Under any other situation, Jeongguk would’ve smiled and laughed, perhaps made a comment. He always appreciates hearing how much Yoongi cares for him by his actions when they fail to show it to each other.

“Listen. It’s fine,” Jeongguk cuts in cooly. “He could only get a punch in before I beat him to the ground. It’s fine.”

Yoongi sighs and he doesn’t seem any more appeased than before but he doesn’t react any longer, laying back on his chair. He runs a hand through his unkempt blonde hair, tugging harshly at the roots.

“What are we going to do, then?” Yoongi asks Seokjin.

Seokjin shrugs helplessly. “You and I have only seen one war when we were still fighters, d’you remember?” Yoongi nods as he continues to speak, Seokjin’s attention diverted to Jeongguk. “It wasn’t pretty. Some people were left injured to the point that it affected the rest of their lives, some paralysed. Everyone in the circle starts getting involved, feeding off the drama and they take sides.” He pauses. “And to be honest, the odds aren’t adding up to you, Jeongguk. They’re going to take Jan’s side, if this happens.”

Jeongguk wants to feel fear. He wants to know what it feels like to be genuinely scared for his life, afraid he’ll get beaten down hard enough to be left with consequences to suffer with for the rest of his life. But the feeling doesn’t even cross through him. He merely nods, cracking his knuckles. Jeongguk may be acting naive, blissfully ignorant to the extent of the problem but he’s never been afraid of another man since he was fifteen-years old. He isn’t going to start now.

Yoongi, on the other hands, doesn’t seem so optimistic.

“What the fuck are we going to do?”

“I’d say, we wait it out. Don’t attack anymore people.” Seokjin looks at Jeongguk with a pointed look. “Don’t even interact with anyone. Just go to your fights, win those fucking fights so you can prove your alpha status and what’ll they expect if they mess with you and then come straight out, go straight home. Don’t stop for anyone, don’t wander in alleyways or quiet places, don’t make eye contact. They’ll wait for you to start the violence first, provoking you and it’ll really blow off.”

Jeongguk listens carefully, taking heed to the advice given to him. He trusts Seokjin. The man has been around the underground circle, alongside Yoongi, for much longer than Jeonguk has. He started at a young age and he had conquered the game.

“I got it.”

“Also…” Seokjin continues, his voice lowering. “I’d also like to say, you should keep Jimin away from the warehouse.”

Jeongguk looks up at that, narrowing his eyes. “Um. I mean, of course but why?”

“They’ve seen him and pried off him, already. They’ve seen him at his weakest and they know they can take advantage of that. They also know Jimin’s your weak point, when you had tried your hardest to defend him and get him away from the ring. They know to get to you, they get to Jimin. So keep him away.”

The words register into Jeongguk, terror going through his bones as he swallows thickly. He’s already watched Jimin get hurt once and he never wants to experience it again. He nods, silently vowing to keep Jimin away at all costs. He won’t let it happen again.

“Jin hyung,” Jeongguk says as he walks to the kitchen, starting up the kettle to prepare coffee. “Why did the war happen when you were still around?”

“It was a stupid reason.” Seokjin and Yoongi both laugh at the memory. “I don’t even remember, it just spiralled. One thing lead to another. Someone playfully said a comment that someone else didn’t like, led to some attacks. The war nearly always begin from a fight that occurs outside the ring, leaving resentment amongst everyone else. Anyway, they were all disqualified and banned from ever returning back to the fighting circle.”

“Oh. Disqualified?”

“Well, yeah,” Seokjin says with a shrug. “If you’re constantly fighting outside of the ring, there’s no space left for you.”

As unconventional as it is, the last four years for Jeongguk have been home within the ring. Home within the gym, training endlessly with Yoongi. In the last four years, Jeongguk has never had a place to call his own but he had the feeling of slipping on the boxing gloves and feeling complete again. Fighting is not only a thrill to him, a means of displacement, but also something he needs in his life.

“I really don’t want to get disqualified.” He admits.

Yoongi walks over to him, patting him on the back hard.

“Then don’t get involved into any fights outside the words, simple,” Yoongi sounds a little brighter now, seemingly feeling comforted. He even manages to muster a small smile. “We’ll be fine. I won’t let anyone get their hands on you, on us.”

Jeongguk trusts Yoongi wholeheartedly. He doesn’t even need to consider his words, simply nodding. He prepares them a cup of coffee as they sit back down.

No new texts. No call backs.

Jimin lays back on his bed, system still swimming serenely with the painkillers he had taken a few hours prior. It helped to bring down the swelling on his face as well the discomfort he feels all over. Hoseok has been nursing him with a wet compress and stronger medication, attention all over him.

The last three days have been good to Jimin’s healing process. The cuts are beginning to clear up, the bruises lightning up around his eyes. The only noticeable mark left is his stitches and the already forming scar.

Hoseok hasn’t allowed him to do much in the past three days, tying him down to his bed and forbidding him from moving around too much. As much as Jimin promises he’s fine, that the worst of the pain has passed, Hoseok seems adamant on babying him. Jimin decides to bask in the attention instead of pushing it away, knowing it’s the only time he’ll be treated like so.

Jeongguk has called him twice, at sporadic times in the day. He doesn’t talk for long, seemingly busy with his training but he checks in. He asks about Jimin’s condition and Jimin answers him truthfully. Neither of them have talked about meeting again, Jimin doesn’t mention it and Jeongguk doesn’t ask him twice to come to the gym.

The only person missing from the equation is Taehyung.

Jimin waits a minute, counting the sixty seconds backwards in his head before he tries Taehyung’s number again. It goes straight to voicemail. Jimin feels more dread registering into his system, concerning himself to sickness about where Taehyung is and why he’s ignoring Jimin.

The voicemail tone beeps and Jimin takes a deep breath before he speaks.

“Hey, Taehyung. It’s me, Jimin.” He pauses, biting his lips and carefully considering his words. “How’ve you been? It’s been awhile, like.. Five days and I know that’s not long but I’m just… really worried about you. I miss you, Tae. Are you okay, buddy? I… if you’re mad at me, for y’know, getting hurt and fucking things up and everything then I’m really sorry. I just… I miss seeing you around. It would’ve been nice to have you around, your presence always makes me feel better. I just, call me back? If I did something, at least let me know? I’m sorry again. I love you.”

Jimin hangs up before he tears up and hopes it’s enough to bring Taehyung back to him.

Jimin hears the bell for his apartment buzz. He groans from where he’s lazing on the couch, his painting on the floor before him that hasn’t been touched in the last hour. It’s another portrait of his mother but he’s finding it increasingly hard to work on, the memory of his mother’s smile and the shape of her eyes becoming hazy.

It’s frustrating and a little heartbreaking how he doesn’t remember many of her details. But he can’t resist himself from using her as muse when she occupies a lot of his thoughts throughout the day.

The bell draws him out of his spiralling circle of negativity, getting up from the couch. Hoseok had told him he was expecting a delivery today so he allows the person to come into the building. When there’s a knock on the door, he opens to retrieve the delivery but he’s met by Jeongguk instead.

Jimin’s startled as his mouth falls open in surprise, recovering quickly and attempting to smile. Though he’s been talking to Jeongguk every now and then, he’s still taken aback by his presence.

“Oh, hi,” Jimin greets meekly.

Jeongguk returns the expression with a small smile of his own. It’s a little tight but it’s welcoming, it’s clear that he’s trying. He glances around the empty, quiet apartment before his eyes filter back to Jimin. There’s obvious warm undertones in his pupils.

“Can I come inside?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course.”

Jimin steps aside to allow the man through before he shuts the door behind him, wandering into the apartment after him.

“Are your roommates home?”

“Nah, they’re currently working.”

Jeongguk nods as he walks into the living room, about to take a seat before he halts at the painting on the floor. The living room is a mess. There’s acrylics and water paints scattered all across the floor, stained newspapers and different equipment spreading out. It’s how Jimin prefers to work but he knows people don’t appreciate his messiness.

“Sorry..” He mumbles.

Jimin quickly walks forward, trying to grab the painting to hide away. The last time Jeongguk had encountered his artwork, he had lost his mind at Jimin and he doesn’t want a painful repeat or remainder of the moment.

“Don’t…” Jeongguk cuts in to say. “Don’t put it away on my accord.”

“Well. To be fair, last time makes me want to put it away.”

Jeongguk walks over to Jimin. A gentle hand lands on his forearm as Jeongguk lowers the painting down to the ground again. He walks to stand in front of the canvas, analysing it carefully. Jimin wrings his fingers together as he watches, apprehension dripping through his body. Not only is he anxious at Jeongguk’s verdict but he’s also hard on himself about his own work and talents, only ever expecting the best from himself and beating himself up when he doesn’t achieve it.

“This is a painting of your mother, isn’t it?” Jeongguk finally asks.

Jimin’s taken aback that he remembers, nodding. “Yeah. You remember that?”

Their eyes meet as the younger man nods, a small smile playing at his lips.

“Yeah. Of course I do.”

Silence falls upon them as Jimin tries to will the racing of his heart down. He looks at Jeongguk intently, whose eyes are still fixed on the features.

“Jimin,” Jeongguk finally addresses him again. He walks to stand in front of him, hesitantly reaching out to hold Jimin’s chin up and forcing their eyes to meet. Jimin attempts to shy away from the hold but it’s firm. The younger man’s pupils are ablaze with remorse. “I’m sorry.”

He waits a beat, or two. “Sorry?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the day at the exhibition.” Jimin blinks, unable to bring words to his mouth so Jeongguk continues. “It was unjust for me to react like that. I realised it then and I realise now, too. I ruined that night for you. So, I’m sorry.”

Jeongguk’s words don’t falter and his voice remains steady but his lips twitch as he lets go of Jimin’s chin and diverts his attention downwards. They stand before each other and neither of them speak, just reeling from the moment with the apology sitting heavy in the air between them.

Truthfully, Jimin had never anticipated an apology from Jeongguk. He runs the words over in his mind again and again, mulling them over. He wonders if Jeongguk has ever apologised to anyone before, if this is a first for him. Jimin considers what to say next carefully. How he was treated, beyond just the exhibition fiasco, wasn’t fair. But he notices the sincerity in Jeongguk’s words.

“I accept your apology, Jeongguk.” He finally settles on saying.

Jimin decides it’s a good decision because the younger man’s features brighten momentarily, looking up with an arched brow like he wasn’t expecting that reply at all. But he seems relieved, a sure smile replacing his previous one as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Anyway…” Jeongguk continues. “We need to go to Soomin’s house, to remove your stitches. It’s been a week.”

“Oh, of course.” Jimin nods. “Give me a minute, I’ll get ready.”

The stitches have been nothing but a complete nuisance to him in the past week. He’s been trying hard not to touch them, not to come in direct contact with water so he’s eager to get them out.

Jeongguk waits on the couch as Jimin goes into his bedroom, throwing on more suitable clothes and grabbing his wallet on the way out. He follows the younger man to his car, buckling his seatbelt and watching Jeongguk intently as he starts up the car and drives away from Jimin’s block. The drive is mainly quiet and Jimin opts to stare out of the window, watching the neighbourhood blur into each other.

When Jeongguk parks up outside Soomin’s apartment, Jimin realises he doesn’t recognise his surroundings and he wonders how loopy he had felt that night when his memory is still hazy in spots.

Jimin faintly recognises Soomin’s face when she greets them at the door, a neighborly smile fixed over her lips as she ushers them into her home. She grabs a bottle of beer for Jeongguk before collecting all her equipment needed for the removal of the stitches, guiding Jimin to lay down on the couch so she can access the forehead easily.

“Is this going to hurt?” Jimin can’t help but ask.

“I hope not.” She reassures. “You’ll be fine.”

Soomin’s hands shake as she holds the scissors, still warm from the water it’s been sterilising in before holding Jimin’s head down and working carefully. He closes his eyes instinctively not wanting to watch the sutures coming out. Jeongguk drags his chair closer to watch, taking sips of his beer slowly as he does so.

Five minutes later, Jimin hisses a little as the sensation of something being unthreaded from his skin. Soomin smiles sympathetically at him.

“We’re nearly done.”

Jimin exhales as his head rolls over to observe Jeongguk. Their eyes meet and the younger man offers a encouraging nod.

Once the stitches are completely removed and his head has been plastered and bandaged, Soomin gets off her chair. She grabs a glass of water for Jimin, handing it over which he accepts gratefully.

“Make sure you keep the area bandaged for a day or two,” she informs. “Then, apply lotion and always keep the area clean.”

Soomin runs through more details as Jimin soaks up the information, nodding at all the appropriate times before they’re dismissed. He thanks her profusely, for today and that night, and she merely shrugs and promises it’s the least she can do.

As they drive home, silence ensues between them again. Jimin fiddles with his phone, constantly refreshing his messaging applications in case Taehyung had come online and got back to him. His notifications remain dry, though. He frowns as he locks his phone, turning to face Jeongguk.

“Can I ask you something?”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply for a second, gazing out in front of the road he’s driving down before he finally turns towards Jimin. He nods, humming.

“Yeah?”

“I just, where’s Taehyung? Is he okay?”

There’s clear hesitation that pours over Jeongguk’s features, hardening just slightly as he drives. It’s obvious that he knows what’s going on and it bothers Jimin that he hasn’t been informed. He treats Taehyung like one of his closest friends and the complete absence bothers him constantly, unable to ponder on much of anything else. He waits for an answer but Jeongguk continues to drive. Before Jimin can protest, Jeongguk finally speaks.

“I honestly don’t know where he is.”

Jimin raises a brow. “What do you mean?”

“He left.”

The words process in Jimin’s system, his eyes widening as he twists his torso to face Jeongguk better.

“He left?”

Jeongguk nods. “Yeah.”

“I-I don’t get it,” Jimin’s voice wobbles. “Why would he leave, where did he go?”

Jeongguk’s jaw clenches but the anger doesn’t seem to be directed towards Jimin, more like towards the situation in general. He clutches onto the steering wheel tighter, keeping his eyes ahead of him. When he comes to a red light stop, he turns to look at Jimin for a minute.

“I don’t know where he went, Jimin. That’s the truth.”

“Why did he leave, though? Did something happen?”

A beat passes. It takes a moment for Jeongguk to compose himself to answer, sighing shakily as he accelerates when the light turns green.

“Taehyung and I had an argument. It ended pretty badly and I regret it. Before I could even try to sort things out, he had packed his bags, told me and Yoongi not to contact him and left.”

Jimin blinks a few times, trying to make sense of the information he’s just been told. It irks him that this had happened and no one had bothered to tell him, had allowed him to ponder over the thought of where one of his closest friends had gone and whether or not he even was okay. They allowed him to think it was his fault.

Jimin fists his hands in his lap, turning to divert his attention elsewhere because he doesn’t want to say any harsh words.

“Argument, why?”

“It was about you.” Jeongguk answers truthfully. The honesty is something that he’ll always appreciate, he never needs to second guess around the younger man. “I was furious after you got hurt that night. Taehyung should’ve told you about the rules of the warehouse, that we never go inside and he failed to. I blamed him for the night you got hurt and I guess, he just couldn’t take the knowledge knowing he was the reason you were attacked.”

It takes a minute for the words to process within him. If anything, the explanation makes Jimin angrier.

“It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault.” The words are firm as he shakes his head. “It could easily be yours, Yoongi hyung’s fault for not telling me either. I never blamed any of you, why would you blame him?”

Jeongguk narrows his eyes. “I realise that now,” he admits lowly. They’ve arrived back at Jimin’s apartment but no one’s moving from the car even as the engine cuts off and leaves them in silence. “It was my fault as much as Taehyung’s. I was the one who trained you, I should’ve been the one to tell you. Yoongi could’ve told you. We had so many instances to warn you and we didn’t and—” he takes a deep breath. “We fucked up.”

His voice nearly breaks, ending off in a high whine like a toddler who’s trying to explain why they’re being scolded. Jimin’s reminded, often, in such situations that Jeongguk’s still young. He’s only nineteen-years old, though he often gives off a vibe that he’s older.

Jimin sighs as he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it off his face.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he says. “What happened has happened, we can’t change that. But you have to get Taehyung back, Jeongguk. It was never any of his fault.”

Jeongguk nods. “I want to. I just have no idea where he is.”

“He might’ve gone back home, to Daegu?”

“I called his sister, she said he isn’t there.”

Jimin feels fear address him for the first time. If Taehyung isn’t back at home, with his sister in the comfort of his home city—then where is he? Where is he staying? Is he even still in Seoul or what? The worry that has been eating himself up slowly intensifies as he raises his hand, biting down on his nail.

“Fuck, Jeongguk.” Jimin slumps back in his seat. “He hasn’t answered any of my calls, replied to any of my texts.”

“Yeah, he hasn’t to Yoongi hyung, either.”

Jimin halts as he turns to look at him with an expression of disbelief.

“You haven’t tried to reach out to him?”

Jeongguk hesitates before arching a brow, shaking his head.

“No? Why’d he want to talk to me? I’m the reason he left in the first place.”

“Well, perhaps the fact that he thinks he’s let you and I down? You not reaching out to him only cements that idea, Jeongguk.” He says the words in a light drawl, almost sarcastically like he can’t believe Jeongguk could be so stupid.

They seem to have an affect on Jeongguk before he pauses, considering his words before he slams his fist down on the steering wheel lightly. He curses under his breath like he finally understands.

“Fuck.”

Jimin gives him a look of sympathy, reaching over to touch his shoulders. Jeongguk tenses up but Jimin doesn’t remove his hand, squeezing ever so gently before withdrawing the touch altogether.

“You still have time to make it right and bring Taehyung home, Guk.”

Jeongguk nods. “I will… after my fight.”

He doesn’t try to enforce Jeongguk to do it any faster, not wanting to push the younger man. Jimin sometimes still wonders where he stands in the man’s life. They had fucked once—and it had been like pure ecstasy—but the events that followed afterwards were anything but.

Sometimes, he wonders why Jeongguk even bothers with him, still puts up with him.

“Okay. As long as you try.”

Jeongguk looks over to him, offering a small smile.

“The fight is tomorrow night.” He explains, fiddling with the keys still in the ignition and keeping his eye line diverted towards the ground. “It’s the first one since you got attacked so it’s important for me to win. I can’t have the distraction of knowing I reached out to Taehyung and got nothing in return.”

Jimin allows the words to sink in. There’s depth behind them, real concern of being rejected by Taehyung. Jeongguk’s lips are twitching downwards, looking dejected.

“I get it. Don’t worry. You can try after your fight,” he pauses. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” he smiles and it seems sincere, stretching from ear-to-ear. “I’m always victorious, so. It’s fine.”

Jimin rolls his eyes fondly but he can’t disagree, especially when he knows how magnificent Jeongguk is at what he does. He grabs his wallet and then unlocks the door, climbing out of the car.

“Goodbye, Jeongguk. Break a leg.”

Jeongguk’s expression transforms to a full blown grin, waving.

“Goodbye, Jimin.”

It’s a little strange to be fighting when Taehyung’s Audi isn’t parked outside, when Taehyung’s not going to be there to greet him after his win. But he supposes it’s his own fault so Jeongguk doesn’t really have the right to complain about it. When he had argued with him, he had never expected it to blow out of proportion, for Taehyung to actually pack his bags and leave.

Jeongguk didn’t want to admit it but he’s genuinely scared. He worries constantly, unable to think much of anything else when he’s consumed by thoughts of Taehyung. The concern had only grown after Taehyung’s sister had confirmed he wasn’t in Daegu. Where could he possibly be?

Yoongi pats Jeongguk’s forehead, checking over the tape secured on his knuckles.

“Remember what Seokjin said, yeah?” Yoongi holds his hand. “Don’t make eye contact with anyone else. Don’t talk to anyone. Get in the ring, fight and win to prove your alpha status. We don’t want to aggravate the pending war.”

Jeongguk nods. He’s been repeating the words like a mantra in his hand over and over all night. He knows this fight is important. It’s the first one since Jimin was forced into the ring and it’s the first one since he had gotten his hands dirty with Jan’s blood. Everyone’s out for revenge.

“Noted, hyung. I got it.”

Yoongi pulls back with a cautious smile but doesn’t voice any more of his inner thoughts, simply nodding as he picks up Jeongguk’s water bottle and gestures him to get up. They walk out of the room, towards the main basement where the fights occur.

Jeongguk knows everyone is anticipating him tonight. He knows there’s been bets placed, money being gambled over his name. It only makes him want to work harder.

Yoongi hasn’t allowed him to see much of anything else in the past week except the four walls of his gym, training him mercilessly because he’s afraid the war will backfire and it’ll come to haunt Jeongguk. His muscles ache with exhaustion and the lack of rest but after tonight, he’ll be liberated.

The man standing in the ring waiting for him is someone from Jan’s intermediate friendship circle. A short, but intimidating, looking man that went by the name Kyu. He hasn’t been in the underground circle for long but he’s rapidly made his way up the ladder with his techniques and the people he interacts with.

Jeongguk takes a deep breath as he bends so he can enter the ring, flexing his hands out and stretching out his knuckles.

Kyu looks delighted to be faced with his opponent. It feels like it’s just the two of them in the warehouse, the bystanders and the deafening cheers a distant dull thud that’s barely processing in Jeongguk.

The referee steps forward, following through the same routine of reading out the rules and regulations before the whistle blows and the fight begins.

Jeongguk, in a moment of weakness, does the courtesy of craning his neck in search of Jan. The man stands right in the front of the ring on the right, a thick cigar between his fingers and his pupils blown from a cocaine high. His eyes are blank, void of any emotions besides a sickening satisfaction of the sight before him.

This is what it boils down to. Proving that he’s stronger than Kyu, stronger than Jan. Proving that starting a war will only end in misery for Jan and his friends that bribe the referee to score fights with him.

With Yoongi and Seokjin’s encouragement planted in the front of his mind, Jeongguk pours every might into his punches.

Each time he delivers a punch and Kyu reels, he moves in only to further disorientate him. Jeongguk keeps going even when he feels a wave of sharp pain shooting up his arms from overexerting himself, knowing it’s going against his usual style of boxing but tonight, he wants to prove a point to everyone in the underground circle. He wants to prove that there’s consequences if you mess around with him or anyone he relates to.

Kyu starts to bleed barely ten minutes into the fight and whilst Jeongguk sports a few bumps and scratches of his own, it’s nowhere the extent of Kyu’s damage.

When Kyu falls to the ground and yells a choked out. “Stop!” The fight is immediately halted.

The referee steps into the ring, blowing into his whistle insistently to break apart the fight. Jeongguk’s held back, pushed to one side of the ring to prevent another punched to be thrown in Kyu’s direction.

“The fight is over. The winner is, Jeon Jeongguk!”

A wad of notes is pressed into his hand, folded into an envelope and Jeongguk can’t help the victory that feels swell in his chest. Out of all the big wins he’s had, this one feels critical. He was here to prove a point and he did.

As Yoongi and Jeongguk filter out of the warehouse, he looks over to Jan.

Jan looks murderous, looking close to bursting from the steam he’s blowing off as he holds Kyu and guides him out of the ring. Before he can turn and make eye contact with Jeongguk, he slips out through the door and out into the open.

(Mood: The Weeknd - Can’t Feel My Face)

Jimin’s snuggled into Namjoon’s side, listening to the older man’s even breathing as the movie rolls on. Hoseok had texted that he’d be late home, still cleaning up at the restaurant. Namjoon stirs a little when Jimin tries to reach out for the remote, turn down the volume a little.

“Shh,” Jimin whispers to Namjoon, running a hand through the end of his strands before smiling.

Namjoon hums in his sleep, nuzzling in further and returning to his deep sleeping haze. Jimin smiles fondly at his friend before diverting his attention back to the movie, listening intently to the dialogue. His phone chimes with a notification but Jimin doesn’t want to move, not wanting to jostle Namjoon or miss a moment from the movie. After a few minutes, another notification.

Jimin grumbles under his breath as he gently navigates around dead-weight Namjoon leaning on him, grabbing his phone off the table.

‘Come outside

Where are you?? I won tonight. Come outside.’

There’s two text messages from Jeongguk. Jimin furrows his brows, wondering why the man was here to tell him he had won. He looks back at the TV, switching off the movie before skirting around Namjoon. He tucks a blanket around his body, a pillow under his head before he’s slipping out of the apartment.

As promised, Jeongguk’s waiting outside.

He’s leaning against his car door, a cigarette between his teeth as he smokes. His eyes are mellowed out, pleasantly warm undertones in his pupils. There’s a grin that cannot compare to any other times he had seen Jeongguk, sure of himself and genuinely elated. Taehyung had always said, Jeongguk after a win was the best Jeongguk there is.

It instinctively brings a smile over Jimin’s lips, too. He crosses the road over to where Jeongguk stands, tilting his head to the side.

“Congratulations.”

Jeongguk exhales the smoke, watching it curl up in the air before he looks at Jimin. His grin grows.

“Thank you. I did good tonight.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Jimin laughs lowly. “You got a little scratch.”

Jeongguk raises his hand over his cheekbones where his opponent had managed to strike him, a little swollen and red but no real damage done. He wipes it vigorously, as if to prove it doesn’t hurt him.

“It’s nothing.”

Jimin hums. “Are you here for a reason, or?”

Jeongguk hands the cigarette over to him which Jimin accepts. He’s not a smoker but on the occasion, he’ll take a few drags with no objection. Today feels like one of those days when Jeongguk’s looking at him like there’s no one else he’d rather look at. He inhales the smoke, allowing it to warm him up in the frosty night.

“Not really. Yoongi hyung had to go home and well… I’m still high off the happiness and I didn’t want to be alone.”

Jimin blinks a few times as he holds the cigarette between his fingers, tapping the end so the ashes fall to the ground. Jeongguk came here, out of all places, because he didn’t want to be alone. He seeked out Jimin’s presence in his victorious moments. He had thought of Jimin. He’s not sure how it makes him feel but it’s a refreshing feeling that takes over him, unlike the usual feelings of dread that he associates Jeongguk with in the beginning.

“Well. Wanna come upstairs?”

Jeongguk shakes his head slowly. “Let’s go for a drive.”

“Yeah, okay.” He agrees within seconds, not even needing to think twice about it.

Jimin walks around to the passenger seat, sitting down as Jeongguk starts up the car and peels off the pavement. The air is crisp as Jeongguk rolls both of the window down, letting the wind blow in their faces as he drives well above speed limit. It’s a little thrilling but Jimin giggles, sticking his hand out of the window and moving it along with the force of the wind.

“How was the fight, then?” Jimin asks.

Jeongguk doesn’t take his eyes off the road but he beams at the mention of the events tonight.

“So fucking good, man. I defeated him.”

“Do you always feel like this after you win?”

“Mhmm, I feel so…” Jeongguk pauses as if he’s searching for the right words, a smirk taking over his lips. “Powerful. Accomplished. I can finally fight back, I can defend myself now.”

Jimin laughs and whilst he can never feel what Jeongguk does, has never had to fight someone before—he feels the energy between them. Jeongguk is vibrating with euphoria, a grin fixed over his lips that’s contagious as he laughs every few seconds. The radio is turned up so loud that the car vibrates with the bass, the windows rolled down so the volume can be heard for miles off.

Jimin feels carefree. Invincible. Alongside Jeongguk, he feels like anything is possible in the moment.

Jeongguk gets onto the highway and his speed only increases, weaving in and out of roads. It frightens Jimin a little but he eases into the feeling, sticking his head out of the window as he yells at the top of his lungs. Jeongguk slows down the acceleration only to stare at him with a smile that seems reserved just for him.

At this time in the night, the streets are mostly empty. It fuels the fast driving and Jeongguk only comes to a stop before a bridge. He cuts off the engine, the music dying out instantly as they sit side-by-side, high off the feeling.

“Um,” Jeongguk starts as he licks his eyes. “This bridge, I used to come here with Taehyung in the beginning when I first started winning. We’d just sit and get high. I was wondering if you’d like to come with?”

“Yeah… yeah, of course.”

They walk up to the bridge in silence, walking closely together. The proximity between them makes Jimin’s skin burn a little and he can’t help but glance over to Jeongguk every few seconds, needing to observe him. Jeongguk looks even more ethereal under the moonlight, his cheekbones glistening, his eyes sparkling. He looks completely in his element.

When they reach the top, there’s a ledge to sit on.

The view before them is the city of Seoul stretched out for miles, all the buildings illuminated and looking stunning in the dark night. The river reflects the light, looking majestic. Jimin holds his breath as he scans over the sight in front of him, withdrawing his phone to snap a few pictures.

Jeongguk reveals a blunt from his pocket, lighting it up and taking the first drag. They remain peacefully quiet as they pass the blunt between each other, taking turns to smoke and allow the marijuana to tranquilise them.

“Tell me about your first fight,” Jimin’s requesting before he can stop himself, freezing where he holds the blunt and hoping it doesn’t cause the entire interaction between them to go tumbling downhill because of his eagerness to pry in.

Jeongguk does pause but he doesn’t drastically change moods, a contemplative look taking over his face.

“I was fifteen,” Jeongguk explains, followed quickly by a laugh. “I hadn’t met Yoongi, yet. I met him that night. I had stumbled across the warehouse and I was a stupid, heartbroken teenager who wanted a way to vent, blow off some steam. So, I just volunteered myself into this fucking underground boxing circle.” He pauses again, reaching out for the drug. He takes a long drag, tilting his head back as he exhales before continuing. “I was stupid, did I say that? I was knocked right out, obviously. I had no prior experience, absolutely nothing. Yoongi hyung had been watching and he approached me and well… the rest is history.”

Jimin listens to him intently. It’s, perhaps, the most Jeongguk has talked to him in one sitting and it’s the most personal he’s ever been. It must be the marijuana taking effect, smoothing out his usual aloofness and replacing with the mellowed out Jeongguk.

“You were so young.”

“I know. Like I said, I was stupid.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

Jeongguk shrugs. “I don’t really know, I don’t think about it too hard to start worrying myself over regrets.”

Jimin hums a little as he slides into a more comfortable position on the ledge, crossing his legs.

“What about you?” Jeongguk redirects the question back to him. “Tell me about your first night at the strip club.”

He’s secretly grateful that Jeongguk hadn’t outright asked why he got involved with the strip club. Jimin would have to lie and cover up the truth and he doesn’t do well with such ordeals. Jimin shrugs as he speaks, carefully considering his words.

“It’s the same old. The routine at the club has never changed. People take advantage, I let them.”

There’s a long suffering pause.

“Why do you let them?”

“I…” Jimin falters, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. Most of it stems down to being employed by Jaebum, owing the man money that he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to repay back. “I’m weak. You were right when you called me that, I cried because it’s the fucking truth,” he laughs as he takes another drag of the weed. “I don’t have any strength in my body. When I try to enforce my rules of no touching, I just… they take what they want and I’m helpless to it. I fucking hate it.”

Jeongguk’s face falls as he listens. There’s a twinge of regret that takes over his features, his eyes twitching and he busies himself with staring out into the distance. They sit in silence for a few moments, smoking between them before he finally replies.

“I was wrong about that too, y’know? You’re not weak. What you grow through, what you tolerate with those men… and still be who you are, Jimin—that’s not weak. You don’t have to trust anything I say, I’m just being honest, though.”

Jimin feels the words resonate with him, soaking into his system as he exhales a breath.

“You were wrong about a lot of things when it comes to me, Jeongguk.” He tries to lighten the mood.

He expects Jeongguk to argue, to protest and say something. Instead, he agrees with a heavy nod.

“I know.”

Jimin’s left bewildered for a minute, not able to find the words to reply efficiently. He keeps his eyes fixed in front of him, gazing upwards and trying to detect stars in the black sky but unsuccessfully so. Jeongguk admitting he’s wrong makes his chest feel lighter, like a burden has been lifted off him.

After twenty minutes of mostly a quiet truce between them, a pleasant atmosphere—Jeongguk stands up. He rubs the palm of his hands together, trying to warm them up before extracting his keys.

“We should head home. It’s getting late.”

Jimin nods in agreement as he stands up, wiping down the front of his shirt to smooth out the crinkles as he follows back to the car.

The drive home isn’t as obnoxious but it’s still satisfying. The music is on a lower, bearable volume and the windows are still rolled down but the wind feels good nipping against Jimin’s cheeks as Jeongguk drives at a controlled speed limit.

When he pulls up outside Jimin’s apartment, he says.

“Thanks for tonight.”

Jimin shrugs as he unbuckles himself, a smile growing across his lips. Tonight had felt like improvement in their relationship, working towards a somewhat functioning dynamic where Jeongguk’s not tearing him down and Jimin’s not reduced to tears. He feels warm and content.

“It’s alright. Thanks for the weed.”

“Never a problem.”

Jimin climbs out of the car and offers a wave as Jeongguk drives off. He waits outside, watching the car fading into the distance before he starts laughing. Perhaps it’s the drugs in his system, exhilarating his system or he just feels high off the feeling he had experienced tonight. Regardless, Jimin wishes to feel this all the time. He tilts his head back, arms stretched out as he laughs.

Despite the big win tonight and the wonderful night spent with Jimin, Jeongguk still can’t fall asleep.

His room feels empty, the apartment feels empty. There’s a void of love and tenderness in the house. There’s a void of any happiness, of the sound of laughter and music being played at intolerable levels in the early hours of the morning. It doesn’t feel the same without Taehyung.

It’s been nearly two weeks that his best friend has been absent and Jeongguk can’t remove the gaping hole in his chest, can’t replace it either. The fight had been exceptional, the conversation with Jimin even more so but without Taehyung, it feels useless.

It had been strange to exit the warehouse without the sight of the cheerful, elated boy to greet him. It had been strange to ride home with Yoongi instead of Taehyung who rambles on after fights, always insisting on a full blown celebration and always peppering Jeongguk’s cheeks with kisses.

It’s just not the same.

Jimin’s words ring through him, clearly. Reach out to him.

Jeongguk had not once called him or texted him, allowing Taehyung to make his own way back home when he was ready. But the more time passes, the more he doubts that Taehyung will ever bless Jeongguk with his presence.

There’s a type of melancholy dwelling so deep in his heart without Taehyung that he can’t describe, can’t bring to words and can’t remove.

Jeongguk picks out his phone, hesitating just for a minute before he finally dials Taehyung’s number. He isn’t sure what he expects. He knows, deep down, that Taehyung won’t answer. Not on the first ring, at least. But five attempts later, he gets the voicemail every single time and when it beeps, he finally leaves a message.

“Taehyung?” Jeongguk asks, uselessly, like he doesn’t already know. It makes him laugh as he glances around his darkened, empty room. “It’s Jeongguk speaking. Hey, listen. Where the fuck are you? Your sister says you’re not with her and I’m worried, okay? You’ve never been away from me for so long and I’m not used to it.” He pauses. “I had a fight today and I won. Did you also know we might be stuck in the middle of a really brutal war with Jan, the man who fought Jimin? I guess you don’t know because… I treated you like shit. I was out of line. Shit, Taehyung.” Jeongguk breathes out as his eyes tear up, furiously wiping them away. His voice comes out choked out when he speaks. “Please come back home. It feels… it just, I can’t stand the apartment on my own anymore. I’m sorry.”

Chapter Text

Jeongguk’s eyes flutter open as consciousness comes to him slowly, the sound of a sharp shrill drawing him out of his slumber. He groans under his breath, glancing over to the clock on his wall to indicate it’s barely seven in the morning. He doesn’t want to deal with his phone ringing so early. He lets the sound die down before he rolls over, snuggling under his covers.

He’s about to fall back to sleep when his phone blares to life again, disrupting the intense need to catch another few hours before he has to get up.

Jeongguk groans as he grabs his phone off the nightstand, noticing Yoongi is calling him and picking up immediately.

“It’s so early,” he whines. “What do you want?”

“Jeongguk. Taehyung called me.”

He jolts awake, his exhaustion evaporating within mere seconds as he shuffles to sit upright. He clutches onto his phone tighter, his breathing picking up immediately.

“He did? Is he okay?”

Yoongi lets out a sigh but his tone doesn’t hold any heaviness, seems relieved.

“He’s fine. He’s in Daegu with an old childhood friend.”

Jeongguk feels a rush of appeasement fill his system, the constant worry settling down as the raging thoughts begin to disperse. The past few days, he’s been full to the brim with anxiety. He’s been wondering, contemplating where Taehyung could be if he wasn’t with his family or any of his university friends. The complete silence from the other man had only unnerved Jeongguk further.

“But, he’s okay, right?”

“Yeah, Guk. He’s fine. He’s pretty distraught, he thinks he’s the reason everything happened and I don’t know. He refuses to come back.”

Jeongguk scoffs as he scrambles off his bed, opening his wardrobe as he selects a fresh pair of clothes. He may of made a mistake of overreacting to Taehyung, acting completely rash and harshly—but he’s not going to let Taehyung slip right out of his fingers.

“He will come back.”

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Well, I’m going to Daegu,” Jeongguk announces as he walks to the bathroom, starting up the shower. “I’m going to go and bring him back. He doesn’t belong there, he belongs with us here. This is his home and hyung, I fucked up but I’m going to bring him back.”

There’s a reluctant pause from the other line before Yoongi responds, there’s a smile evident in his tone.

“I know. I trust you.”

Jeongguk can’t help but feel his own lips twitch with the approval and the reliance in his tone. He hangs up and refreshens up, washing his hair and blowdrying as he changes into his clothes. He doesn’t want to return back to the apartment until Taehyung’s in tow, no matter how long it may take and he knows exactly who he wants to go with to retrieve the man.

Twenty minutes later, he sits outside Jimin’s building.

Jeongguk’s not sure why he had arrived here except the fact that he knows that Jimin deserves to know what’s going on. He also has a strong friendship with Taehyung if not, more stable and healthier than Jeongguk’s. If he’s going to cross cities for Taehyung, he wants Jimin to be there with him.

He takes a deep breath before he cuts off the engine, climbing out of his car.

The last time he had been here, he had met Jimin’s roommates. They were overbearingly protective brothers, looking down upon their noses at Jeongguk and he couldn’t even find a reason to blame them. He has no idea how much Hoseok and Namjoon know about how he had treated Jimin initially but the fact that they even gave him a chance, it was more than Jeongguk could ask for.

Jeongguk slips into the building, going up the stairs and knocking on Jimin’s door.

There’s shuffling from the other side, a few shouts and laughs before the door opens and reveals Hoseok.

His hair is ruffled and there’s dark circles under his eyes like he’s been in a constant state of sleep deprivation. When Hoseok recognises who stands at the door, his smile fades and his expression is replaced with impassiveness much like the first time. He definitely knows something.

“Jeongguk. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He shifts uncomfortably on his feet, trying to muster up a smile to Hoseok.

“Hello, Hoseok-ssi.” He greets formally. “Actually, I was here to talk to Jimin, if he’s around?”

“Weren’t you with him only yesterday?”

“Um… yes?” Jeongguk raises a brow, wondering how that’s relevant but not voicing his thoughts out loud. He scratches down his arm, speaking after a beat. “I need to talk to him about something important.”

Hoseok reluctantly moves out of the doorway to allow him through, shutting the door behind him. He walks into the apartment, gesturing Jeongguk to follow him as he wanders down to Jimin’s door, banging his fists to grab his attention.

“Jeongguk is here to see you. Again.”

“Jeongguk?” Jimin’s surprised tone comes from the other side after a long moment. The volume of the music playing from behind his door is lowered as he shuffles around. “Jeongguk’s here?”

“Yeah, honey.”

“O-oh. Tell him to give me a second.”

Hoseok turns to look at him again, not shifting his expression. There's something underlying in his tight lined smile, like he's barely tolerating Jeongguk’s presence in the apartment but he's not opting to voice how he really feels about it. He swallows under the older man’s gaze, feeling his insides being chewed out.

“You can take a seat,” Hoseok finally breaks the unbearable silence between them, gesturing to the couch as he walks to the kitchen. “Would you like water, or anything?”

“No. It's alright.”

“Suit yourself.”

Jeongguk walks to the couch and slowly lowers himself down, avoiding Hoseok’s eye contact. He doesn't want to admit how uncomfortable he feels and it's clear Hoseok’s purposely acting this way to get under his nerves. The older man lingers in the kitchen as he clears the counters up but every few seconds, his eye gaze will raise and he'll stare at him with intent behind his eyes. It makes Jeongguk fidget, trying to straighten out his posture as if he’s trying to subconsciously impress the man.

Jimin’s bedroom door finally opens to reveal the boy himself, slowly walking towards them.

He looks gorgeous, is the first thing Jeongguk notices. He has to take a moment to allow his eyes wander over the Jimin’s body, back up to his cherubic face. He's wearing a baggy black shirt, tucked into distressed jeans with a even bigger hoodie thrown on top. It's almost like Jimin’s trying to conceal himself.

Their eyes meet and Jimin's expression softens ever so slightly, his lips twitching.

“Hey, you,” Jimin speaks lightly as he crosses the room and walks towards him. “You're here?”

Jeongguk snorts as he gestures to himself.

“Yes, unbelievable, right?”

Jimin rolls his eyes and he doesn't comment, his limbs carrying him to the kitchen where he fixes himself a glass of water. Jeongguk notices how he's walking with ease now, his strides more confident as he begins to heal and no longer limps around in discomfort.

“Is something the matter? I didn't realise we’d be meeting today.” Jimin says as he leans against the counter, sipping at his glass.

Jeongguk hums as he stands up.

“We finally got through to Taehyung.”

Jimin halts where he's picking up the glass, eyes widening as he lowers it and walks forward towards him. His expression has brightened with relief that pours into his features, his doey eyes lightening up.

“You, what?”

“Yeah, yeah. He had reached out to Yoongi hyung this morning.”

“Well, where is he then?!”

“He's in Daegu, like you predicted—with a friend. I think I know which one and I'm about to go there right now.”

Jimin blinks in wonder. “You're going Daegu, right now?”

Jeongguk nods as he shifts uncomfortably. He’s trying not to let the urgency in his tone show, not wanting to let his guard completely down but Jimin’s staring at him earnestly and the only thing on his mind is getting Taehyung back and ensuring Jimin comes along with him. So there’s definitely no chance of him fucking things up.

“It'll take two hours at most. It’s not far from here.”

“Fuck,” Jimin breathes out, expression slackened. “I've missed him so much. I've been so worried, I'm so glad that you're going to get him.” He pauses, a sad smile creeping onto his face. “You'll get him to call me, right?”

“Call you?” Jeongguk laughs. “I'm here to pick you up. You're coming with me.”

Surprise filters into his face.

“You want me to come with you?”

“Why else would I be here, Jimin?” He asks as he tilts his head to the side, observing Jimin’s face closely. “I need you to come with me, if that's okay with you?”

Jeongguk doesn't know about Jimin’s schedule. He doesn't know whether the older boy needs to go to classes, return back to his job at the strip club and he doesn't expect Jimin to drop his responsibilities and go on a spontaneous road trip for him. But he needs Jimin’s presence, he knows he’d feel reassured if he'd come along and helped him out. But also because, Jimin deserves to join along with him just as much, he deserves to talk to Taehyung as well.

It takes a minute, or so, for Jimin to finally react. A smile takes over his lip, a warm undertone in his wide brown pupils. He tugs on his the sleeves of his hoodie, giving him sweat paws and the clear fondness in his expression isn’t hard to detect.

By now, Hoseok has filtered out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. They stare at each other for a second before Jimin clears his throat, replying.

“Of course, I'll come.”

Jeongguk closes his eyes as he releases a sigh. He knows with Jimin by his side, there's no chance he’ll find a way to cause further destruction like he normally does. He never has a control over his emotions and in critical situations, he often makes a wrong choice that dampers the problem further.

But Jimin. The boy who stands before him with optimism that drips from him, with a smile that could win over anyone's heart—he definitely knows Jimin will be able to guide him through the whole ordeal.

Jeongguk feels safe knowing that Jimin’s coming along with him.

(Mood: Pat Benatar - Love Is A Battlefield)

The car journey to Daegu is supposed to be less than two hours in total. But coupled with the morning rush hour and people’s irresponsible driving holding everyone up, Jeongguk predicts it’s going to take longer.

As the minutes tick away, the more antsy he becomes.

There’s an urge crawling under his skin to get to his destination as fast as possible, to refamilarise himself with Taehyung’s hometown and the boy, himself. He wants to fix the problem, wants to collect all the hurt he had delivered to Taehyung and destroy it. He also, irrationally, feels like the later he gets there, there’s a bigger chance that Taehyung will slip right through his fingers.

Jimin sits in the passenger seat in serene silence. They don’t exchange many words. The other boy opts to glance out of the window and stare intently at the world blurring past him as the speed of the car accelerates slightly. His eyes glisten with each passing twist and turn in the road and Jeongguk wonders why he finds that so endearing.

“Have you never seen the countryside, or something?” Jeongguk asks, a slight drawl in his words in a mocking manner.

The view before them is beautiful. There’s hills in sight, expanding across the horizon and greenery around them. Jimin laughs a little at the question, settling back in his car seat to get more comfortable.

“I’ve never been outside of Seoul, to be honest.”

There’s a hint of mourning in his tone, like it’s an atrocity that he’s never travelled elsewhere. Jeongguk hums as he weaves through the lanes on the highway, accelerating when there’s no car in sight before him. He tries to keep his gaze trained ahead of him but he can’t resist the urge to glance over every so often, just taking in Jimin’s sight besides him.

“Me neither,” he answers truthfully after a beat. “I’ve only been to Daegu with Taehyung.”

Jimin’s head turns over to look at him intently. There’s the slightest hints of a smile on his lips. It’s barely existent but it’s there. With every instance that Jeongguk supplies personal information about himself, there’s a look crossed between appreciation and surprise on Jimin like he genuinely likes to soak in every single detail.

“Have you ever wanted to travel elsewhere?” He asks with a light tone.

“Who hasn’t?” Jeongguk retorts. He used to dream about it when he was younger, yearn for the possibility of escaping the country with his mother and sister, away from a man who puts a fist in his face and pushes him into the mattress. “I’ve always wanted to go America, I think.”

“Oh, yeah? What state?”

“New York.” He answers without a beat.

“Standard.” Jimin snorts.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes and opts not to respond, navigating through the road and looking out of the windscreen rather than anywhere else. Jimin snuggles further into himself, his entire figure engulfed with the size of his hoodie that makes him look even more vulnerable than usual.

More time passes between them without any conversation. It’s not uncomfortable, though and Jeongguk finds himself adapting to the pace between them well. It’s not overbearing and it doesn’t overwhelm him, it has the opposite effect and he finds himself appreciating it. Jimin clears his throat after a measly fifteen minutes, adjusting himself.

“So. Why did you ask me to come along with you?” Jimin questions curiously.

The question doesn’t throw him off. He had been expected to be asked at some point. As much as he doesn’t like revealing his inner thoughts, he doesn’t feel like lying to Jimin, either. Not when Jimin’s looking at him with inquiring, wide eyes. He considers his words carefully, not looking in his direction.

“I didn’t trust myself to go along. I also think you should be there.”

Silence ensues as Jimin turns to look at him properly, furrowing his brows this time.

“What do you mean?”

Jimin’s trying to pry, draw out his reasons. Usually, he doesn’t appreciate it but this time, he takes a deep breath and answers.

“I just didn’t want to make it worse. I know you won’t allow it to get worse.”

It’s all he can manage to say but the words resonate with the truth, reflect what he truly feels. Jeongguk has the tendency to make situations go downhill faster than fixing them and Jimin seems to do the opposite of that. It’s a safe bet.

A beat passes and Jimin’s expression eases, his face smoothing out with understanding. Thankfully, he doesn’t respond. Jeongguk feels grateful for that. He notices the nod Jimin gives before he diverts his gaze to glance outside of the window, not speaking any longer.

Jeongguk’s cheeks burn with a slight red, at some sort of surprising ease that he was able to speak his thoughts without regretting it.

Thirty minutes pass with no words exchanged. When Jeongguk glances over to him eventually, Jimin’s fast asleep.

His hoodie is pulled over his head, protecting his blonde hair as he snuggles against the door of the car. His head bumps against the window every few seconds with the rocking motions of the car but his features remain ironed out, all the discolouration and scarring from the fight having healed except where the remnants of his stitches remain. His chest moves slowly in time with his even breathing.

Jimin looks delicate. Beautiful.

Jeongguk heaves a breath as he reaches over to lower the volume of the radio, allowing him to sleep peacefully.

When Jeongguk has taken the exit into the city of Daegu and begins to find the familiar roads, he reaches over to gently shake Jimin awake. He almost doesn’t want to—considering how he had begun to snore ever so softly—but he knows it’ll only aggravate Jimin to be woken up in the last minute.

Jimin stirs with a small groan, rubbing his eyes before they open and adjust to his surroundings.

“Where are we?” He mumbles, voice husky with his slumber.

Jeongguk swallows. “Not far now.”

“Cool.” Jimin hums as he runs a hand through his hair, smoothing out the messiness. “Are you nervous? I feel nervous.”

Jeongguk pauses for a second before he nods slowly.

“I’m nervous, too.”

Jimin smiles in reassurance. “It’ll be fine, y’know? Taehyung wouldn’t of reached out if he didn’t want you, or someone, to come to him.”

He considers Jimin’s words and whilst there’s truth ringing to them, it doesn’t help appease the waves of doubt rolling through him. It’ll only calm down once he’s face-to-face with Taehyung and all the ambiguity will be washed away.

“Hey,” Jimin’s addressing him again when there’s no reply from him. “Listen to me. It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah. It’ll be okay.” He repeats with a nod and forces himself to believe it.

Jeongguk drives into a neighbourhood that he faintly recognises from two visits ago, when Taehyung had eagerly shown him his childhood best friend’s house. He digs deep in his memory now, trying to remember properly. He searches through the streets, taking u-turns and driving around the block until the house comes into sight.

“It’s this one.” Jeongguk abruptly stops the car.

Jimin looks up as his eyes dart over the building, analysing it before looking back at Jeongguk and offers a nod. Jeongguk starts to park up the car, his hands shaking over the steering wheel before he cuts the engine off. They sit in silence for a few moments, neither of them daring to move before Jimin speaks.

“D’you want me to go?”

“Come with me,” he decides within a split second.

Jimin’s expression breaks into a warm smile. “Of course.”

Jeongguk heaves another breath before he nods at Jimin, indicating he’s ready to go. He grabs the keys out of the ignition, opening the door and climbing out. He runs a hand down his clothes to soothe out how they’ve creased, trying to placid the panic rising in his chest. Jimin’s right by his side and gives him a look of consolation. There’s trust in his features like he has faith in Jeongguk and he convinces himself to believe in it.

They walk towards the front of the house, opening up the gate and taking slow strides towards the door. Jeongguk hesitates only for a second before he’s reaching over, pressing down on the bell.

There’s a pause, some shuffling from the other side before it opens and reveals a man he doesn’t recognise.

The man looks Jeongguk up and down, a slight disgust in his features as his nose wrinkles.

“How can I help you?” He can’t seem to keep the sneer in his voice at bay, clear distaste shining in his features.

Jeongguk swallows, not the slightest bit surprise as he’s become accustomed to dislike being thrown in his direction.

“Is Taehyung here?”

The man raises his brow, looking amused as his eyes linger over Jeongguk. It’s clear that he has no intentions of playing nice, wanting to drag this moment out and make it feel as insufferable as possible.

“He may be. Are you Jeongguk?”

“Yes.”

“And you?” The man points to Jimin.

Jimin clears his throat and steps forward, making his appearance known.

“Taehyung’s friend, too. Park Jimin.”

The man waits for a second longer before the door closes and he’s walking away. Disappointment floods his system. The door’s been shut on his face and the hope fizzles out.

But before he can dwell on the mind numbing feeling for any longer, there’s a few noises from the other side of the door. The man seems to be saying something loudly and then there’s heavy steps behind the door. It opens, after a few minutes, and Taehyung stands before him.

Jeongguk’s eyes widen as he meets his friend’s gaze.

Taehyung looks unlike Jeongguk has ever seen him. For as long as he can remember, Taehyung has always been a ray of positivity who radiates the liveliness amongst everyone else. There’s always a bright expression fixed on his face, a smile like it’s his personal mission to keep everyone returning the same gesture.

But this Taehyung is unrecogniseable.

He looks defeated. His eyes are swollen and small, red rimmed under his eyebags and bloodshot. His figure looks considerably petite, swallowed whole by his baggy button-down shirt that he always wear when he’s in a bad mood with noticeable sunken in cheekbones. Taehyung seems frozen in his spot, eyes wandering slowly between Jeongguk, to Jimin, then back at Jeongguk. He swallows thickly before he opens his mouth.

“Why’re you guys here?”

Neither of them speak. Jeongguk’s not sure he’d be able articulate his thoughts, even if he attempts to do so. He’s grateful for Jimin stepping ahead, taking the lead and speaking out when he fails.

“We had to come to you.” Jimin replies, voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve been worried.”

Taehyung bites his lip. There’s a sheepish expression on his face, mixed with remorse. A childlike look as he looks away.

“Well, don’t be.”

“We can’t help it, Taehyung.”

“I hurt you.”

“You hurt me?” Jimin repeats incredulously, shaking his head insistently. “No, look. I don’t know what destructive thoughts you’ve got brewing in your mind over that night but we can talk through it. Please, stop hiding away.”

“It is my fault. I didn’t tell you—”

“It wasn’t just your obligation to tell me, Tae.”

Taehyung’s chin trembles like it normally does when he’s being reduced close to tears, when he runs out of the efficient words to say.

“No. I fucked up, I got you into trouble. You got hurt because of me.”

“Buddy, no,” Jimin says sadly, shaking his head. “Please, don’t say that.”

Taehyung finally picks his head up, observing Jimin’s face carefully.

“Are you, um, are you okay now?”

Jimin laughs sadly at that, gesturing to his face.

“Look at me. I’m good as new.”

Taehyung takes a deep breath, seeming relieved at that. His eyes still remain skeptical as they dart over Jimin’s face like he needs the confirmation. Tears build up in his eyes as his chest heaves.

“I’m so fucking sorry—”

Jeongguk physically can’t take it anymore. He can’t stand here, mute, as he watches Taehyung beat himself up over something that was all their faults, equally. He can’t stand another second of how small he looks.

He steps forward, crossing the distance between them and tugs Taehyung into an embrace.

Taehyung immediately falls into the hug and starts to cry, not holding back as he sobs. He curls his head into Jeongguk’s neck, seeking out his comfort. His body shakes and Jeongguk remains stagnant, holding him carefully.

“Stop apologising.” Jeongguk’s tone comes off a little strong, almost scolding him as his voice is muffled into the other’s body. “Please, stop fucking apologising. I can’t take it. It’s me who should apologise, I’m sorry.”

Taehyung can barely draw breaths as he squeezes his eyes shut, eyelashes fanning against his skin.

“Guk—”

“I mean it, you did nothing wrong. I’m sorry, Taehyung. Please, forgive me.”

“You don’t hate me?” Taehyung voice cracks as he breathes, trying to settle his crying.

Jeongguk clicks his tongue. “How could you even ask me that?”

They remain embraced for a little while longer. He feels complete now that Taehyung’s back in his presence, had missed the weight of the boy when they hug and the warmth of the other boy’s body against his. The worrying has come to a stand still completely now, evaporating from Jeongguk’s tense body as he finds himself relaxing.

When Taehyung reluctantly pulls away, he wipes under his eyes. He has a small smile playing at his lips, looking to Jimin before back at Jeongguk.

“Thank you for coming to get me.”

“I came as soon as I knew.” Jeongguk promises sincerely.

“I believe you.”

Taehyung moves towards Jimin and he doesn’t miss how Jimin’s face breaks into a grin, beaming as they embrace. Their interaction is heartfelt but short, the conversation reduced to hushed whispers and reassuring words Jimin keeps saying to him as he soothingly rubs a hand up and down Taehyung’s back.

When they finally pull away, Taehyung looks at them bashfully. There’s timidness in his features like he’s not sure where he stands amongst them and he’s trying to adjust himself into the situation and the people, again.

“Give me a second, let me grab my shit from inside and say bye to my friend. Then we’ll go home?” He says, a touch of hopefulness in his tone.

Jeongguk feels the relief slamming into him, replacing all the apprehension that consumes his body.

“Of course. Yeah.”

Taehyung shoots them both a grateful look before he’s withdrawing himself, still sniffling under his breath as he retreats back into the house and leaves the two of them outside in the cold.

Jeongguk withdraws a cigarette from his pocket, taking the opportunity for a quick smoke break. He cups his hands, lighting it up and tries to ignore the stare Jimin’s giving him out of the corner of his eyes. He takes a drag, smoking peacefully and when he notices Jimin still hasn’t looked away, he turns to him with an arched brow.

“Is there something on my face, or?”

Jimin’s smile grows and he shakes his head slowly.

“No, no. I’m just surprised, I guess. I’m proud of you, y’know?”

The words sink into Jeongguk slowly, the weight of them dawning on him. Jimin’s proud of him.

His heart race picks up just the slightest and there’s a certain type of warmth spreading in the pits of his stomach, a feeling he can’t describe. He looks away, focusing on taking another drag.

“You’re ridiculous.” Is all he comments back.

Jimin only grins at him, stuffing his hands into his pocket and finally, looking away.

The drive back home is not as awkward as Jeongguk had anticipated. It’s borderline too quiet between the three of them but it’s appropriate. Taehyung sits in the backseat with his luggage, headphones in his ears and music volume up high to effectively cut off any possible conversations. Jimin sits in the passenger seat, fingers strumming against the dashboard as he hums a tune under his breath.

Every now and then, he’ll look over to Jeongguk and smile shyly causing Jeongguk’s chest to expand.

When the sunset falls upon them, Jimin brightens as he withdraws his phone and begins to capture pictures. It’s incredibly endearing and Jeongguk has to swallow down the sudden burst of emotions he feels towards Jimin, looking away. In the rear mirror, he notices Taehyung giving him a knowing smile. He chooses to ignore that, too.

When they arrive back in Seoul, the sky begins to darken and the night falls steadily upon them, Jimin asks to be dropped back home.

“I need to go to work.” His lips curl downwards into a snarl at the mere mention of the strip club, sighing. “I’ve been off for way too long and now that I’m recovering, my manager wants me back tonight.”

Jeongguk refuses to associate the feelings of unease, and something ugly that he doesn’t want to admit as jealousy, that settles in his system upon those words. Taehyung, though, only smiles and gives a reassuringly half nod.

“You’ll drop by soon, to see me? We need to talk, I guess.”

“Of course,” he vows. He looks to Jeongguk for a second before looking out of the window. “Let me know how things are, yeah?”

Jeongguk nods in promise too, driving down to Jimin’s building and parking up outside.

Jimin’s waving goodbye as he climbs out of the car and when he looks at Jeongguk, there’s a special smile reserved just for him. It’s bordering of fondness before he walks off, into his building out of sight. Only then does Jeongguk drive off back to their own apartment.

Taehyung cries, again, once he’s inside. All his pent-up feelings spill over the edge, the dam bursting as he sobs quietly. They cuddle up on the couch as Taehyung buries himself into Jeongguk’s embrace, his tiny frame shaking with the force of his crying. Jeongguk mutters apologies to him as they wait for the tearful moment to subside.

It seems to drain Taehyung of his energy, his body limp and lifeless as he relaxes himself against Jeongguk.

By the end of the night, Taehyung falls asleep. He’s knocked out, exhaustion pouring into his features as he snuggles into Jeongguk’s side. He sighs as he runs his fingers through Taehyung’s hair, thoughts wandering elsewhere. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t seem to push Jimin’s smile out of his mind.

Jimin’s stressed out.

He had received his timetable as the academic year draws closer to an end. It had all his last assignments outlined and the three exams he has to sit before the year can finish successfully for him. In order to graduate, he has to get flying marks in both the assignments and the exams. There’s just not enough time.

He spends every second of his day locked in his bedroom, working tirelessly over improving upon his older pieces and starting his new work. Art has always been a passion of his, has been creating masterpieces with the stroke of his hand and a paintbrush since he was young.

But somewhere down the line, doing a major in the same area, has made him lose the same sentiment he used to hold dearly.

At first, it had been a means of coping. When his dad would return home drunk out of his mind, rambling his money away and he’d argue with his wife all night. Jimin would sit in the living room, unable to escape from the raised voices and the bottles smashing. The arguments never got violent, they never had to. There was enough venom behind his father’s voice to go a long way.

Whenever his mother would cry in the bedroom, trying to muffle the sound into her hands. They were poor. There wasn’t nearly enough money with their father not supplying them with enough, gambling them away and taking considerable amounts off loan sharks that he knows he couldn’t ever repay back. That, exactly, had caught up to them.

Whenever such a situation occurred, he’d go to Hoseok’s house.

Hoseok was his neighbour and whilst he was older by a few years, he had always been hospitable to every need Jimin had. He’d ask Jimin what he’d like to do and when Jimin had replied painting, Hoseok had turned up to his doorstep with a beginner artist’s supplies the very next day, eager to introduce Jimin to a new world.

It wasn’t much equipment but it was enough to start up his joy for art.

Jimin would sit in his bedroom, trying to block out the cries and the screams and he’d paint. He’d paint tortured people, dark and disconcerting pieces which Hoseok would frown upon every time he’d see but he’d never comment, only nod and encourage Jimin.

But when he moved away with Hoseok and enrolled into university, the reasons behind his artwork changed drastically. He can’t help but not feel the same he did all those years ago, when he was younger and his newfound hobby was something that sparked up the only positivity within him.

Jimin sits in his art classroom with a canvas before him. His ass feels numb on the seat, both from how long he’s been seated mixed with his client from last night that had been a little too rough. Every time he shifts, he can feel the heavy hand landing back down.

He picks up the paintbrush, dipping it into the pink colour as he edges forward and begins to finish off the fade of flowers he’s doing around his canvas.

In the moment, he doesn’t notice the footsteps coming up behind him. When there’s a pair of hands covering his eyes, he squeals. He doesn’t like people creeping up behind him and it causes his whole body to jerk but the hands press down hard.

“Relax,” Taehyung laughs. “Guess who.”

Jimin’s dread dies down within seconds as he relaxes upon Taehyung’s deep voice speaking into his ear.

“Don’t do that,” he says sincerely as he bats Taehyung’s hand away.

Taehyung withdraws instantly, an apologetic expression written over his face. He nods a little and takes a step back, pointing to the spare chair.

“Can I sit?”

“Sure.”

It’s a little strange to see Taehyung up and back at the university like usual, running his mouth around campus like he does. People have missed his presence, so much is clear, with the way he’s constantly surrounded by a crowd, asking where he’s been. Taehyung’s popular amongst everyone and it only makes sense for his contagious aura that others seek out.

He sits down besides Jimin, soothing out his shirt and smiles.

“We never got a chance to talk properly.”

Jimin hums in agreement as he lowers the brush in his hand, twisting his torso slightly to give Taehyung his undivided attention. He’s not afraid to admit how warm he feels once again, with the boy’s presence around him.

“Yeah, sorry. I had work that day and then, I’ve just been so busy.”

“I’ve realised. You haven’t dropped by recently.”

“Yeah, well.” Jimin shrugs. “I wasn’t sure if Jeongguk would want me around and I’m just… busy, like I said.”

He stitches his brows together.

“Well, Jeongguk definitely hasn’t said anything against you so I can only assume things have gotten better since I was away.”

Jimin exhales a breath, his mind travelling back to the day they had sat on the bridge with a blunt shared between them. He remembers how they had opened up to each other, even if it had barely even touched the surface. That little details, regardless, Jimin holds close to his chest. He treasures it.

“You could say that.”

Taehyung grins a little, nodding. “I’m glad my disappearance counted for something, then.”

He tuts, reaching forward to slap the other man’s forehead.

“No. Don’t you dare, Taehyung. Do you know how worried I was?” He tries to keep his voice levelled but he can’t help the hint of anger that shines through, shaking his head. “I had no idea what had happened, only that you were all of a sudden gone. I couldn’t help but blame myself.”

The atmosphere between them, the previous almost upbeat moment, slithers and evaporates between them.

The easy smile Taehyung had sprawled across his lips disappears. He sighs as he looks down, tracing patterns over the table top with his fingers. He looks genuinely sorry, his eyes speaking more words than he’ll ever voice out loud. Jimin waits for a response, keeping his gaze trained on him.

“I’m sorry,” Taehyung says sincerely after a long pause. “I really, really thought it was my fault. That you getting hurt, it was down to me.”

‘Taehyung…”

“No, no. Please. Let me speak. I saw how fucked up you were that night, you were barely conscious, just floating. Jeongguk was wild, too. He’s usually so well put together but that night, he was frantic. It only made me even more scared. I really thought you’d never forgive me.”

Jimin’s lips curl downwards, a wave of emotions overtaking him.

“Taehyung, you know that’s not true, at all.”

“I know, now.” He nods. “But at the time, I thought the only way you’d get better was if I removed myself from the situation.”

Jimin clicks his tongue in distaste, shaking his head. He reaches forward, holding Taehyung’s fidgeting hand into his own to stop his movements. Their gazes meet and he smiles.

“Never, in any situation, will I ever want you to remove yourself. We’ve become much closer now and I know you’ll never do anything to hurt me intentionally. Please, never do that again.”

Taehyung exhales shakily, eyes falling shut momentarily. When he reopens, there’s more contentedness behind them than guilt.

“Please forgive me.”

Jimin barks a laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t have to, there’s nothing to be forgiven for.”

“You don’t hate me?”

“No, silly!” Jimin squeezes their conjoined hands. “How can I hate you?”

Taehyung sighs some more, releasing their hands so he can fix his hair and pull out his essay. He settles back on his chair, drifting between working and talking to Jimin. They find the balance between making conversation but still being able to complete their deadlines as Jimin barely glances up from his canvas as he catches up on Taehyung’s past two weeks.

He can’t help but feel relieved. Taehyung’s back. For the time being, that’s all that matters.

Jimin’s wandering out of his campus, the sky darkening above him and the weather becoming considerably colder. He shudders as he wraps an arm around himself, attempting to keep himself warm as he pulls the denim jacket tighter on top of himself. Exhaling a breath, arms aching with the art folder that feels the heaviest it has all semester, he walks out of the gates.

Jimin’s been overworking himself. He hadn’t realised it before until Hoseok had sat him down, told him kindly that he’ll collapse if he keeps going like this. Barely eating, barely keeping himself hydrated and cooping up in the art rooms whilst he tries to complete his projects. If he’s not painting, he’s at the club and he’s stripping for men who grasp his hip too tightly and fuck him like he’s a doll.

But he realises it now, how it feels to overexert yourself and never slowing down for a break.

There’s fatigue in his bones, making his whole body feel heavier. His eyes droop and there’s the urge to close them, and leave them closed, with every passing second. There’s been a constant headache, just bordering onto insufferable, that feels like a dull ache in the front of his head. Jimin’s stretching himself thin.

As he walks down the route to the bus stop, there’s a car coming to a stop before him.

He recognises the Porsche instantly. It’s Jeongguk’s car. He raises a brow, glancing around to wonder if Taehyung’s closeby and the man’s actually here to pick him but surely, Jimin’s alone.

The window rolls down to reveal Jeongguk. There’s a small smile sprawled across his lips but it’s more wavering, eyes narrowed carefully on Jimin. Jimin feels like there’s a hole being burned into him as he tries to cover himself up with the folder.

“Uh, hello?” Jimin laughs, surprised.

Jeongguk cracks a smile of his own, barely there but the right side of his mouth still tugs upwards. He gestures to the passenger seat.

“Get in.”

He blinks. “Me?”

“Is there anyone else here?” Jeongguk deadpans, looking unimpressed.

It causes Jimin to laugh once again. He clutches onto his art folder tightly as he hesitates, glancing around the mostly vacant campus. Then he looks at Jeongguk, hopeful wide eyes staring back at him and he drags his feet to the other side of the car.

He's not sure what Jeongguk’s doing here but he's curious to find out as he settles into the leather seats, buckling up.

“Where are we going?”

Jeongguk doesn't reply, though. His eyes don’t drift towards him in his direction instead they’re fixed ahead of him as he puts the car into gear and begins to drive away. He turns the radio on at a loud enough volume that conversation would be uncomfortable, having to raise their voices to be heard.

It's a little unnerving to Jimin. He's not accustomed to Jeongguk picking him randomly, taking him somewhere because he's definitely not driving in the direction of either of their apartments and he tries not to shudder in anticipation.

Jimin tries to relax as he sinks back on the seat, allowing his weariness weigh him down for a second.

After a while of driving down, Jeongguk’s parking outside the gym and cutting off the engine. Jimin hasn’t returned to the place since his previous training sessions, not wanting to relive the memories. He bites his lip, looking towards Jeongguk with a slight shake of his head so he can get his point across.

“I don't want to train.”

His tone is firm, not leaving any room for arguments whatsoever.

Jeongguk turns to him with a gentle look, smiling with a look of reassurance painted over his face.

“Don’t worry, I'm not going to make you.”

He gets out of the car which prompts Jimin to do the same. He follows after Jeongguk meekly as the man unlocks the door, leading them into the room. It's dark before Jeongguk illuminates the room, switching on all the lights. It's the same as he remembers. There's the cardio machines, a far corner with all of Jeongguk’s boxing gears. Jimin looks over the place, trying to memorise his surroundings again.

The only new addition to the gym is a full size fridge in the other corner. Jeongguk’s crossing over to it, opening it to reveal an endless stash of water bottles and Red Bull.

“Courtesy of Seokjin hyung,” Jeongguk hums as he grabs a can of energy drink for himself. “Anything for you?”

Jimin feels on edge with questions he has swirling in his mind, wondering what he's doing here and wanting to ask but opting to wait for the answer. He politely declines, shaking his head to the offer of a drink. Jeongguk closes the fridge and wanders back to him, taking a sip of the Red Bull.

“Jeongguk, seriously. What am I doing here? Why did you kidnap me here?”

Jeongguk merely shrugs, pointing to the folder.

“Do you have your equipment in there?” Jimin nods to confirm. “All of it, canvas? Paints?”

“Yes… what's the issue? You're acting so fucking strange.”

Jeongguk shakes his head, letting out a small laugh. A deeper, contemplative look takes over his face as he pauses and doesn't speak for a second. He stares intently at Jimin before taking a deep breath.

“Taehyung's been worried about you,” Jeongguk admits. “He claims you've been overworking yourself, to the point he's scared you'll collapse. He came out about it like word vomit last night.”

Jimin blinks. He knows Taehyung has been asking questions about his packed schedule, asking whether or not Jimin even gets the opportunity to sleep—to which his honest reply was no, not really. Taehyung has been keeping a close eye on him but he hadn't expected to voice his concerns to Jeongguk.

The same Jeongguk who stands before, head tilted to the side as he stares. Though his face remains mostly blank, there’s a glisten in his eyes that may suggest otherwise and it causes Jimin’s heartbeat to pick up.

Jimin clears his throat, realising the younger man is waiting for an answer from him.

“He's worrying for no reason.”

“Is he, though?”

“I… I don't know.”

Jeongguk cracks the tiniest of smiles, nodding as he puts a pause in the conversation to take a sip of his Red Bill.

“I want you to paint me.”

This time, Jimin really is taken aback. He blinks a few times at Jeongguk, waiting for the joke, waiting to understand what's going on right now. Jeongguk’s expression doesn't shift though and his words aren't taken back, still hanging heavy in the air between them.

“You want me to paint you?” Jimin repeats incredulously.

“That's what I said, yes.”

“Uh… d’you not remember what happened last time I tried that? I literally discarded four paintings of your face, Jeongguk. I don't think you realise what you're asking for.”

Jeongguk’s eyes cloud with darkness for a second, the grasp over the can he holds tightening. He sighs and after a moment, he eases up.

“I remember all too well,” he says slowly. “I never got the opportunity to appreciate it your artwork.”

“And you think you deserve one now?” Jimin teases.

“Probably not, no. But I know you've been painting for your projects and it must becoming a chore so… I don't know, I'm giving you a chance to focus on something else.” He pauses, shaking his head. “Forget it. I just realised how fucking stupid i sound—”

Jimin steps forward, reaching out to grasp ahold his forearm and cutting off his self deprecating rant that Jeongguk’s about to dive into.

“I'll paint you.”

Jeongguk looks down at him in surprise, eyes drifting to Jimin’s hand that holds on tightly and then up to face him.

“You—you will?”

“I can paint you anytime. I wasn't lying when I said your face is muse to me.”

Jimin almost expects him to shut down at the comment, expecting a harsh reply back thrown towards him. But Jeongguk just looks fairly surprised and after a moment, he only supplies a shrug.

“I don't understand why I’m considered to be muse but it's interesting.”

“You have an attractive face,” Jimin answers without missing a beat, not denying the truth. He gets on his knees as he puts his folder down on the floor, sorting through his equipment and grabbing a blank canvas he had originally saved for a piece in his portfolio. There's a better use for it, now.

Jeongguk grins, pleased at the compliment.

“So, you're okay with painting me?”

“Well, yeah.” Jimin smiles. “I feel a little nervous because I don't know, I expect you to hate it or something but if you're asking for it then, I will.”

Jeongguk shakes his head patiently.

“I won't, don't worry. How do you want me?”

Jimin takes a moment to consider how he wants to do this. He has never had the chance to paint Jeongguk with the man posing right before him. He's always had to use memory and regardless, the paintings had always turned out decent so he can’t imagine the magic he’ll be able to create now. He feels giddy, knowing that he'll be able to glance up and have Jeongguk right before his eyes. It's every artist’s dreams.

Jeongguk is willing. He's doing this because somewhere, deep down, he's worried about Jimin’s vigorous timetable or maybe he's doing this for Taehyung’s behalf. Either way, Jimin appreciates it.

“Um.”

“Want me to wear the boxing gear?”

Jimin blinks up to him. “N-no, you got really mad last time.”

“Jimin.” His tone is stern. “This is your painting, for our eyes only and you can do what you want with it. So, do you want me to wear some boxing gear?”

Jimin breathes out as he nods.

“The gloves will be fine.”

Jeongguk obliges easily. He walks to the side of the gym where there's a wall full of boxing equipment. He grabs the boxing tape, tattered and the white colour browning on the sides.

“Is this okay?”

Jimin bites his lip, nodding. “S’good, yeah.”

Jeongguk goes an extra mile. He takes his top off, his toned abs coming into view. He looks down at Jimin with a smirk as he starts to wrap the tape around his knuckles albeit, with the tiniest bit of difficulty.

Jimin diverts his attention elsewhere, sorting out his acrylic paints in an order that'll only make sense to him. He grabs the different paintbrushes he wants to use, ranging from a wide, flat brush to a precise, thin brush.

Jeongguk watches him with carefully, trained eyes. Jimin avoids looking up to him as he sits down on the floor, crossing his legs.

Jeongguk drags a chair over, sitting down in a pose. Leaned back and relaxed, his fringe falling over his forehead. His legs are stretched out, open and his taped hands on display. Jimin gulps. He looks like a vision.

“Y’alright?” Jeongguk questions.

Is Jimin sweating? He wipes his forehead uselessly, grabbing the first brush and dipping it into the paint.

“I need water.” He says instead, getting up from where he sits to grab a paper cup filled with water and settling it besides him. “I'm okay.”

There's a knowing look on Jeongguk's face but he doesn't say anything, merely nods and remains devotedly in his position.

(Mood: Bastille - Of The Night)

Jimin begins to work. It's hard to get the hang of at first, drawing up a rough sketch with his pencils of the figure before him. He flushes every time he looks up, met with Jeongguk’s smooth toned stomach and the smirk that's sprawled across his lips in a teasing manner. But he manages to divert his attention back to the task at hand.

He starts with the skin colour, bringing Jeongguk’s sketch to life with different tones. Once Jimin gets into the zone, nothing can draw him out of it.

But this zone feels lighter. He's not working under a deadline, there's not a shouldering pressure burdening him into the ground from professor’s expectations. This feels serene, almost. Jimin had began to forget what it felt like to paint just for fun, not because he had assignments to complete, not because someone told him to do so and told him what to paint.

This feels personal and Jimin’s missed the feeling of complete control over his work.

Once he gets used to the strokes, Jimin’s hand works all on its own. The different colours brush against the canvas and Jeongguk doesn't move from his position, committed to how he sits and the way he looks.

He takes a break after what feels like an hour, stretching out his fingers.

“You need five minutes?” Jimin glances up to Jeongguk.

He shakes his head. “Just one,” he says as he also falls out of the position he's been maintaining. He stands up, walking around the room for three laps before he comes back and adjusts the tape on his knuckles. “Okay, let's keep going.”

Jimin hums as he picks up the paintbrush and resumes his new masterpiece, already admiring the way it's beginning to turn out. The colours are mixing well together and as he works on Jeongguk’s eyes, hidden behind the hair but still a slight sparkle in them that's noticeable—he realises he really likes this painting.

Jeongguk really is a beautiful man, he makes it easy to be painted.

Whilst the previous paintings of Jeongguk’s face are buried deep somewhere in a scrapyard, Jimin’s gotten the opportunity to try again with the man, himself, sitting before him.

It’s a blessing in disguise, fueling every desire he’s had to paint Jeongguk before. The man is pliant and barely moves an inch, like a model that’s destined to be sat and admired. Jimin’s tongue sticks out as he concentrates and another hour passes in the same manner, the gym growing colder as night falls upon them but neither of them move from their positions.

“What’re you doing now?” Jeongguk asks.

Jimin’s head looks up from where his paintbrush is blissfully stroking over the canvas, narrowing his eyes.

“Um… just doing your hand details.”

“I’m excited to see how it looks.”

Jimin flushes, the redness creeping up the nape of his neck and nodding. He keeps working, fueled with more insistence to finish the canvas.

It takes a total of three hours and some before Jimin settles back on his hunches, pins and needles in his feet and his back aching from where he’s been bent over the canvas. He groans as he falls back on his ass, stretching his legs out.

“Fuck! I need to walk around!”

Jeongguk chuckles. “Can I relax now?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m finished.”

He smiles as he gets from the seat, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a yawn. Jimin looks over at him for a second before he diverts his attention, ignoring the pitter patter telltale sign of his heart as he wanders around the gym. Each step, the discomfort in his feet grows.

There’s footsteps around him before he feels a streak of paint being smeared over his cheeks.

Jimin freezes, eyes widening as he turns around slowly.

“Did you just…?” Jimin narrows his eyes dangerously at Jeongguk.

Jeongguk stands before him with a sheepish, smug expression. There’s green paint on his fingertips, his smile only growing upon noticing Jimin’s reaction. Whilst his guard is down, Jeongguk leans in and presses his fingers down on Jimin’s other cheeks.

Jimin gasps. “You little bitch!”

Jeongguk giggles—actually giggles, a sound that resonates within Jimin and finds himself laughing back instinctively—before he’s running away, fleeing the scene. Jimin’s not letting him get away with it. He skips over to where his painting equipment, grabbing the whole bottle before chasing after Jeongguk.

The younger man’s eyes widen.

“The whole bottle! Jimin, I wasn’t so mean to you!”

“You deserve the whole bottle after how you’ve treated me!” Jimin whisper-yells, running in circles after him and squeezing down on the bottle.

The paint squirts out of the tube, staining the back of Jeongguk’s shirt. He squeals, trying to bat it away and only succeeding in spreading it across further and ruining his hands further.

“You’re such an ass!” Jeongguk whines in complaint, trying to run down to the equipment and grab a bottle of his own.

They stand before each other, both holding a whole bottle of paint. Jimin knows they cost an arm and leg and if he had any conscience, he’d put them down and not waste his supplies. But right now, all he can address is the light headed feeling that’s buzzing through him with nothing but genuine, unexplainable happiness.

Jeongguk draws that out of him. The same Jeongguk that stands before him, mischievous in his features and smile tugging on his lips that looks too good to be true. He tilts his head, smirking as he squirts the bottle down a little and landing on Jimin’s thigh, staining his jeans.

“Stop!” Jimin whines, crossing over to him and smearing paint over Jeongguk’s face.

They struggle as their limbs tangle, trying to make the other person fall as they throw paint at each other. Jeongguk’s laughing so loud that it seems like he’s not breathing otherwise, body trembling with the force as his whole body and his clothes gets tarnished with black paint.

“You’re the devil.” Jeongguk’s whispering through his laughs, unable to speak properly.

Jimin can’t form coherent words. Partly because he’s cackling so loud that he cringes at the sound of his own laugh, not able to recall the last time he had laughed so much. But also partly because every time he looks at Jeongguk, stained with paint, it makes his heart flutter in a manner he didn’t know even existed.

They stop their flaying limbs, staring at each other for a second. Jimin’s chest heaves as his breathing comes down. Jeongguk’s staring at him intently, his dark gaze burning into him.

Then he’s dropping the bottle from his hand, advancing forward and fisting Jimin’s shirt. He pulls Jimin forward and they kiss.

The kiss is unlike their previous kiss. There’s no clashing and no roughness, it’s soft around the edges and it’s earnest. Jimin’s chest expands in size as his eyes fall shut instantly, leaning into the touch. Jeongguk accommodates his body without a second thought, a hand wrapping around his waist and tugging him impossibly closer.

Their lips move languidly over each other’s, Jeongguk’s tongue swiping gently down Jimin’s lower lip as he allows access. Jeongguk takes his time like he’s trying to relearn what this feels like, trying to memorise every inch of Jimin’s body as his hands wander down to his ass and offers the slightest of squeezes.

The touch makes Jimin moan breathily into his mouth and the pace picks up, their bodies moving against each other as Jeongguk lowers him to the ground besides the painting of his own face and the art supplies. His hand, still smudged dirtily, lifts Jimin’s shirt up and presses down on his flat stomach, leaving an imprint of his fingers on his skin. The paint is cold compared to Jeongguk’s warm hand and he lets out another short sound.

Jimin cups Jeongguk’s face, further tainting his face as he deepens the kiss.

The pace is torturingly gradual, but in a pleasurable way. It’s not like Jeongguk’s trying to take advantage, he’s adapting to a pace that Jimin can appreciate.

“Your talent…” Jeongguk whispers against his lip, barely moving off his face. “Is incredible. Thank you.”

Jimin’s eyes flutter shut at his words, rolling his head back.

“Just kiss me.”

Jeongguk obliges easily, doesn’t need to be asked twice. He cuts off all the affectionate words and follows through, their tongues moving across each other as they consume each other’s taste. Jimin’s head feels hazy with nothing but the sensation of Jeongguk moving over him, his hips rutting down onto Jimin’s ever so slowly, dragging each moment out.

There’s a chime from Jeongguk’s phone that sits closeby but neither of them stop. A few seconds, it’s followed by two more sounds.

Jimin parts their kiss, breathing heavily.

“You should check that.”

“No. Fuck that,” Jeongguk shakes his head as he dives in, kissing him more insistently as desperation crawls between them. Jimin’s hair lifts to fist into his hair, tugging Jeongguk’s head to the side to expose his neck. He works his lips over Jeongguk’s neck, kissing softly as he hears the hitch in the younger man’s breathing.

It ignites something within Jimin. He ruts his hips up into Jeongguk, wanting to hear the sound again.

Before it can progress, Jeongguk’s phone vibrates again and at the same time, Jimin’s rings.

Jimin freezes what he’s doing, holding Jeongguk’s body back a little as he wills his breathing to slow down.

“I think it’s important, Guk. Please check.” He requests, unable to stop the panic that’s seizing over him relatively fast now.

Jeongguk sighs as he leans in, kissing him one last time before withdrawing himself. He looks like a wreck, his clothes completely contaminated with the paint as he walks over to the phone sitting on the floor.

He picks it up. Jimin notices the colour drain from his face, slowly paling as he scrolls through his notifications, ceasing to breathe.

He shuffles up into a sitting position immediately, dread flooding his system.

“Jeongguk… what is it? Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk takes a moment to look up from his phone, eyes wandering to him. He looks frenzied, cursing under his breath in recession before he’s calling someone’s number. He shoots Jimin a look.

“It’s Yoongi. He got attacked.”

“Attacked?” Jimin repeats, needing more details. “What the fuck do you mean, what’s going on?”

“It’s Jan. The handiwork of Jan, fuck.” He breathes out as he crosses to one side of the gym, frustrating leaking into his voice as he punches the wall roughly. “Pick the fuck up, Jin!”

Jimin sits on the floor, bewildered and unable to move. He feels paralysed and as much as he wants to get up and comfort Jeongguk, he can’t. He’s unable to do so.

Yoongi’s been attacked.

Chapter Text

It takes a moment for the weight of the situation to catch up to Jimin.

He sits on the floor, his lips still tingling with the taste of their kiss and his insides still burning with desire. Reality starts to filter into his system, one by one and disorientates him. Jan is still around, still attacking them? It doesn’t make sense to Jimin as he takes a deep breath.

When he looks up to see Jeongguk raising his fists again, ready to strike again—Jimin starts to react.

Jimin jumps up from where he sits, rushing over to grab his forearm and prevent from another blow to the wall. He lowers Jeongguk’s hand, shaking his head.

“No, don’t.” There’s a pathetic pleading tone in his voice.

When Jimin glances up, he notices there’s now a dent in the drywall where it’s been punched in. A sign of pure, clear frustration.

Jeongguk looks up to him, their eyes meeting. He looks feral, hysteria filling in his pupils as they sting with unshed moisture. He’s blinking rapidly, trying to will the tears away and with each time, his eyes become drier. His gaze follows from where he holds the phone, to where Jimin’s holding him.

Jimin looks at him intently before looking at his knuckles.

The punch has done some damage. The skin is broken as it bleeds steadily, the bone already swelling up with redness creeping around his entire hand.

“Fucking hell,” Jimin mutters under his breath. “Do you have anything to clean up with in here?”

“Does that matter right now, Jimin?”

Jeongguk’s still clutching on tightly to his phone, trying to reach out to Seokjin desperately to no avail. With each missed calls, the desperation creeps into his features. He frantically presses down again, whispering words under his breath.

“Yes, it does,” Jimin says sternly. “You’re hurt, you’re bleeding. How on earth are you going to help someone else like this?”

It seems to dawn on Jeongguk and he sighs as he relents.

“There’s a first aid kit on top of the fridge.”

Jimin moves immediately. He, reluctantly, lets go of Jeongguk’s hand and hopes he doesn’t try to punch anything else whilst he retrieves the kit. Now, as he walks towards the fridge, he can finally register the panic that’s settling into him. His heart hammers against his chest, sure it’s loud enough to be heard in the silent warehouse. There’s a loud buzzing in his head, the blood flow faster than usually that’s making it difficult to focus elsewhere.

Jimin’s never been on good terms with Yoongi, not really. But yet, hearing anyone getting attacked is a hard concept to swallow down.

There’s many questions he wants to ask. Why is Jan back, why is he attacking Yoongi out of all people? He had thought the abuse had started with him and ended with him. Jimin swallows down the curiosity, though, knowing it isn’t appreciated right now.

“C’mere,” Jimin calls for him once he’s got the kit in his hand.

Jeongguk’s moving as soon as he’s beckoned, walking slower than usual as he sits down gingerly on the couch in the gym. His eyes are unfocused and hazy, not looking anywhere but down at his phone as he reads the text messages again.

Jimin takes his hand into his own again. He inspects the damage carefully this time, eyes glancing over the split open knuckles. He’s never had to tend to anyone else’s mishaps before, except his own and on one occasion, and he tries to remember some of Taehyung’s techniques as he withdraws the cotton wool soaked with salt water solution and begins to wipe away the blood gently.

Jeongguk hisses through his teeth but remains pliant, allowing himself to be cleaned up.

As Jimin works, the younger man finally manages to get through to Seokjin.

“Hyung!” Jeongguk voice cries into the line, squeezing his eyes shut. “What the fuck happened? Please tell me, I’m losing my fucking mind.”

Jimin tries not to pry in the conversation. It’s hard not to, when the concern washes through him. The phone’s volume is lowered to the extent that even if he tried to and craned right in to listen, he’d be unsuccessful.

Jeongguk seems to notice, though. He pulls the phone back only to put it on speakerphone.

“Jeongguk.” It’s miraculous how steady Seokjin sounds regardless of the current circumstances, voice never wavering once. “I need you to come here to me. I’m near the warehouse, only half a mile out. There’s an alleyway where Yoongi got jumped, I think it’s Jan’s men. I can’t be sure.”

The two of them remain completely still before Jeongguk whispers.

“Is he conscious? Breathing?”

“Not conscious, coming in and out. His breathing is faint.”

“Fuck.” This time, Jeongguk’s eyes fill with tears again and he doesn’t attempt to stop them, either.

“It seems like he tried to get up and walk away. There’s indents on the walls from him struggling. There’s just, fuck—there’s blood everywhere. I can’t do this on my own. You need to help me.”

Jeongguk looks tortured and he takes a moment to compose himself. His chest heaves with the force of his breaths. Jimin remains devotedly silent, opting not to say anything. He’s not sure he can say anything that’ll make the situation better. His chest aches with the mere thought of Yoongi strewn somewhere outside in the harsh winter of Seoul, in a dark alleyway.

“Do we go to the hospital?”

“Jeongguk. You know we can’t.”

“Like fuck we can’t! If he’s going to fucking die, we’re going to the hospital. I don’t care what the consequences are, we’ll fucking deal with it!” He snaps, finally.

There’s a insufferable, long pause from the other line.

Jimin finishes taking care of his hand. He’s plastered it and wrapped it up with a bandage, sheltering it from any more damage or pending infections. But Jeongguk’s hand still shakes and he doesn’t want to let go, not when he needs the comfort himself and knows the younger man definitely does.

Jimin holds onto his hand tighter, giving Jeongguk something to ground himself to. To hold onto, despite the frantic moment. It seems to be a good idea because the younger man squeezes back, even going as far as intertwining their fingers absentmindedly.

The phone conversation doesn’t last long after that. Seokjin promises they’ll compromise if nothing works out, sending his location to Jeongguk and urging him to come as soon as he can. As Jeongguk hangs up, he’s still shuddering from the news and he seems to be in a state of complete disorientation. There’s no way he can help anyone in this condition, not if he can’t help himself.

“Jeongguk.” Jimin offers a squeeze to grab his attention, bringing their conjoined hands to his chest. “You’re not driving in this condition.”

“What do you suggest I do, then?”

“I’ll drive us there.” He offers without a second thought.

Jeongguk seems to consider this for a moment before he shuts it down quietly.

“No, no way.”

“Why the hell not? Do you seem to be in any state to drive?”

“Because Yoongi hyung has been found near the warehouse and you’re not allowed near there.”

That makes Jimin furrow his brow in confusion. For obvious reasons, he doesn’t want to be anywhere near the warehouse within a mile radius himself, but he has no idea what prompts Jeongguk to say that.

“Why not?”

Jeongguk looks over to him with a timid expression, heaving a sigh. He shakes his head as he begins to move from where he sits, reluctantly letting go of their hands.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Jimin, about what’s going on,” he says as he grabs his belongings. “I swear, I’ll explain it all to you. But I need to get to the warehouse right now and I just—I can’t take you there, okay? Do you believe me?”

Nothing makes sense. Nothing adds up, none of the puzzle pieces fit in Jimin’s mind.

He doesn’t understand why Yoongi, out of all people who’s a retired boxer, got attacked. He doesn’t understand what intent anyone could have. He doesn’t understand why he’s not allowed to go near the warehouse.

But Jeongguk’s looking at him with a searing sincere look that Jimin can’t help but give into, putting his faith into the younger man.

“You’re still in no state,” Jimin objects as he tuts as he walks over to him. “Let me drive you back to the apartment, at the very least. You can pick up Taehyung and take him with you. It might be better to have a spare pair of hands, too.”

He pauses to contemplate on the offer. Some sort of ease takes over his features, smoothing over his previous expression. He’s still alarmed but at the promise of a loose structured plan seems to appease him.

“You’d do that for me?”

Jeongguk looks taken aback, disbelief pouring into his features. His eyes scan across Jimin’s face, lingering on his eyes.

Jimin nods. “Of course.”

Jeongguk looks relieved. “Can we leave, then? Jin really needs me.”

Jimin’s never been happier to oblige. He grabs Jeongguk’s car keys and guides them out of the gym, easily adjusting to taking the upperhand in the situation. Jeongguk seems grateful, unable to hold himself together let alone take initiative in a situation that’s clearly gnawing at his insides.

Jimin unlocks the Porsche, holding the passenger door open for Jeongguk before he walks around to the driver’s seat.

He has to take a moment to get used to all the controls again, eyes scanning over the console. He hasn’t driven often in his lifetime. When Namjoon had first moved in with him and Hoseok, he had a car of his own and he had willingly given Jimin a few lessons. The lessons were decent and Jimin has always been a fast learner. He hopes it’ll pay off now, when it matters the most, even if he hasn’t gotten behind a wheel in a long while.

Jimin turns the keys in the ignition and listens to the car purring to life. A good sign, thus far.

He glances over his surroundings, noticing the handbrake and pressing it down before putting the car into gear. It seems to jerk forward and Jimin hesitantly presses down on the gas pedal, watching the car roll forward.

Once he’s gotten hang of the basics and adjusts the mirrors accordingly, he glances a look in Jeongguk’s direction. No doubt, Jimin’s concerned and he’s not sure what he can say in a moment like this. He’s not sure there’s any right words that’ll make the younger man feel better. Jeongguk seems to have resigned from the situation, head rolled back onto the leather seat with his eyes closed as he focuses carefully on his breathing.

His breathing is jagged, but he remains committed to working through it.

Jimin diverts his attention back to the car. It’s like muscle memory as everything begins to click together and after a few minutes of driving, he begins to get the hang of it. He navigates, albeit with some difficult, around the neighbourhood as he follows the familiar route back to Jeongguk’s apartment.

The sky outside is dark, illuminated by the crescent moon and the streets are relatively empty which allows him to get around with ease despite his spiralling thoughts.

Every few seconds, he finds his gaze wandering back to Jeongguk. He knows there’s nothing the younger man can do in a confined, moving car but he knows Jeongguk’s on edge with the news. He wouldn’t be surprised if Jeongguk begins to react out.

“Faster, please.” Jeongguk begs under his breath.

Jimin obeys and steps down on the acceleration, more confidence filtering into his driving. He’s not used to a high speed but he adapts well, taking control over the steering wheel as he navigates through the streets.

“D’you think Taehyung knows? About what’s happened?”

Jeongguk doesn’t open his eyes when he replies almost instantly.

“Yeah, he does. When your phone rang back at the gym, it was Taehyung. Seokjin hyung reached out to him, too.”

“Ah.” Jimin nods and doesn’t supply any more to the conversation.

When they arrive back at the apartment, Jimin carefully parallel parks on the street though he struggles a little. He cuts off the engine, letting out a breath he didn’t realise he’s been holding the entire time. He turns to Jeongguk, opening his mouth to speak but the younger man beats him.

“Will you stay at the apartment?” Jeongguk asks. His eyes reopen and they glisten with tears, making him look as smaller. They never slip down his face, they never get released and when Jeongguk blinks, their dry. “Please?”

Jimin finds himself agreeing without having to give it a second thought, nodding.

“I’ll be here for when you’re back.”

Jeongguk’s face smoothes out, some of the wrinkles momentarily disappearing at that. He sags against the seat.

“Thank you.”

“Stay here, okay?” Jimin’s voice is barely audible as he opens the door, climbing out. “I’ll get Taehyung and you guys can get going to Yoongi.”

Jeongguk’s eyes search his for a moment before he swallows, nodding.

“Thank you, Jimin.”

He doesn’t bother replying, only offering a tightlined smile and climbing out of the car. He runs up the stairs in the building, as fast as his limbs can carry him to retrieve Taehyung.

(Mood: The Neighbourhood - The Beach)

Jeongguk rests his head against the seat as he wills his panic to ease. It’s burdening. It’s crushing him, making him crippled to do much of anything else. It’s not often he’ll have a anxiety attack, and he had never imagined it’d happen right in front of Jimin, but regaining a composure after hearing some of the worst news is a task even Jeongguk can’t handle effectively.

Even as the initial panic has settled, and acceptance of the situation has began to turn inside of him instead, he still struggles to inhale and exhale correctly. He just hopes he won’t break into hyperventilation, unsure how he’ll pull himself out of it.

His thoughts run thousand miles per hour and he has to look down at his newly bandaged hand to resist the urge to punch something, again. He knows his knuckles won’t survive the abuse this time around.

Taehyung’s rushing out of the apartment. He’s running towards the car, stuffing his phone into his pocket after presumably just getting off the phone with Seokjin. He’s crying, blatantly so, with tear tracks evident down his cheeks.

He opens the door, sitting down and hastily buckling up.

“Jimin’s inside the apartment, he said he’s going to wait for us to return.”

Even though Jimin had just promised the same words to him only a few minutes ago, Jeongguk’s head swims with another confirmation. He has a light at the end of the tunnel to look forward to.

“Cool.”

There’s not many words they can say to each other right now. They both know how bad this is, especially after Jeongguk had caught Taehyung up to what was going on with the pending war and Jan’s tactics. They both mutually look up to Yoongi and respect him and the news has devastated Taehyung.

He cries silently as he drives. The moisture falls steadily from his eyes but he makes no move to wipe them away, blurring his vision and making it difficult to see clearly. Jeongguk wishes he could help. He wishes he could say something but every time he attempts to form a coherent sentence, the horror that’s growing inside of him prevents him from doing so.

Taehyung drives savagely. He breaks every speed limit, running past every red light and narrowly avoiding other drivers. He keeps his foot pressed down insistently on the gas pedal and doesn’t let up, getting them closer to the warehouse in record breaking time.

When they park up, Taehyung’s up and running out of the car.

Jeongguk wishes he had the same energy to do so and despite the adrenaline pumping in his veins, he feels slow. His limbs feel sludged, heavier than usual as he climbs out of the car and breaks into a light jog towards the direction of the alleyway.

He knew that the scene would break him. Yet, nothing could’ve prepared him for the second he walked closer and everything became focused to him.

Yoongi’s on the floor, barely moving or breathing. Seokjin looks wild and his previous poised persona has faded, exchanged for hysteria instead. He’s crying quietly, cradling Yoongi’s head in his hands as his fingers card through Yoongi’s dirty, blood-stained blonde hair. When he looks up and notices the two figures walking towards him, a sob breaks out of him.

Taehyung crouches down right besides them, shaking his head patiently at Seokjin.

“Stop, hyung. Stop,” he whispers. “Yoongi’s awake, he can hear you. Let me, give him to me.”

Seokjin seems relieved to have the load of Yoongi off his back, handing him over to Taehyung.

Taehyung sits right down the floor, in the gravel, uneven road and takes Yoongi into his own hands. He’s gentle with his touch, brushing the matted strands off the older man’s forehead as his eyes carefully inspect over his body. Taehyung’s still crying but it’s a subdued cry, only hiccuping every now and then.

Yoongi stirs at the touch, a muffled sound of pain escaping his lips but he doesn’t attempt to open his eyes. At the very least, he’s alive and he’s coherent.

Jeongguk’s been standing frozen upon the scene, eyes fixed on Yoongi carefully. It all becomes too much.

Memories flood his system, temporarily blinding him. All he can remember, all he can feel is the death of his mother. When he had watched his father beat his mother mercilessly, into the ground, and how her body had been motionless, not responding to any of Jeongguk’s cries and pleas. Whilst both situations are completely different, he can’t help but relate them both together.

He turns to face the wall, putting his hand up on the bricks as he braces himself. The nausea turning in his stomach takes over and as much as he tries to resist, nothing can stop the vomit that comes up his throat. He throws up, wrenching as he gags and he attempts to wrap an arm around himself, reeling from the vile aftertaste in his mouth.

“How is he doing?” Seokjin’s voice rings out when he finally comes around.

Jeongguk takes a moment before he turns back around, observing the scene before him. Taehyung clicks his tongue and grabs Yoongi’s wrist, pressing two fingers down on the pulse. He waits for ten seconds and then he mentally calculates the rate before he starts to speak.

“His heartbeat is faint but it’s there. He must’ve suffered a blow to the head because he’s bleeding here,” Taehyung withdraws his hand to show it covered in blood that’s still oozing out of him, prompting him to curse under his breath. “Seokjin, give me your jacket.” The man does so without a word and Taehyung presses it down, willing the bleeding to stop. “Probably has a concussion. Broken ribs, if his breathing is any indicator.” He bites his lips, uncertainty wavering in his features. “I think he may be okay. There’s no internal bleeding, at the very least, from what I can see but I have to double check.”

“Are you sure? We don’t need to go hospital?”

“Not for the time being, no. I don’t know for sure yet and there may be underlying injuries I haven’t even noticed. But for now, he’s fine. I need to get him home where I can take better care of him.”

Jeongguk feels a pound of weight being lifted off his shoulders and though it’s not nearly enough, it’s still a start. Despite the extent of his injuries, Yoongi’s alive. Taehyung has him in his hands and he’s handling him well and Jeongguk has the utmost faith in his best friend.

Seokjin helps Taehyung as they pick up Yoongi, careful not to jostle him too hard and take him to the car. Taehyung struggles, groaning a little as they carry dead weight around and Jeongguk finally snaps to action. He walks ahead of them, opening the car door for them so they can gently lay Yoongi down.

“Guk,” Taehyung turns to him with apprehension flooding in his eyes. “You going to be okay with Yoongi in the back?”

“Y-yeah, of course.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, Taehyung.”

Taehyung seems unsure but he only nods, walking back to the driver’s seat. Jeongguk settles down in the back seat, pushing Yoongi’s limbs out to spread across the leather and places his head in his lap. Yoongi grumbles under his breath but he leans into the touch, trying to get comfortable.

Jeongguk reaches out to touch Yoongi’s temples, rubbing soothingly much like he did with his mother’s body.

“You’re okay, hyung. It’s me, Jeongguk. You’re alive.”

You’re alive. Thank God, you’re alive.

Yoongi lets out a sound at his voice, eyes squeezing shut like he’s protesting with his own body.

It’s hard not to relate the two instances together of his mother and Yoongi. But one had ended in complete heartbreak, rendering his incapable of ever having a control over his life again. He lost one of the most important figures in his life but tonight, he’s not losing Yoongi.

All Jeongguk can do is keep a steady hair rubbing in his temples, trying to release tension off the pain that must be imploding in Yoongi. The bleeding from his head has mostly stopped but it stains Jeongguk’s dark jeans and he feels sticky with the feeling.

Behind Jeongguk’s anxiety and his turmoil, there’s rage.

Burning, consuming rage that’s blinding him and making his vision go red every time he blinks down to Yoongi’s frame in his hands. Despite the fact that there’s no confirmation that it was, indeed, Jan who’s the culprit, he knows that only Jan is unhinged enough to cause damage like this. No one else fits the criteria.

Taehyung drops Seokjin back to his house first. He promises they’ll manage and he needs to go home, and get some rest. Seokjin still seems shaken and though he tries to resist initially, he’s also soaked with blood and looks drained of any life.

“My phone will be on loud all night if you need me, okay?” Seokjin tells him as he leans against the rolled down windows, eyes glancing back to Jeongguk then to Taehyung. “Take care of the little one, too.”

Taehyung sighs. “I will.”

Jeongguk can’t find the power within him to voice a reply, can’t even lift his hand to offer a wave as he watches Seokjin’s figure retreating back to his house.

Taehyung waits until Seokjin’s no longer visible before he puts the car back into gear, driving back to their apartment. He looks at Jeongguk through the rear view mirror and though his smile wavers, it’s still reassuringly.

“Yoongi hyung is going to be okay, y’know?”

Jeongguk’s eyes drift up from where he’s looking down at Yoongi. Every time he looks at the older man, he can only envision fifteen-year old Jeongguk stumbling across his mother. Back then, there was no chance of saving her.

Yoongi’s alive and whilst Taehyung hasn’t been able to fully work out the extent of his injuries, he’s going to stay alive. That’s all that matters.

Jeongguk withdraws a breath that trembles out of him, his chest eventually coming to slow down and he doesn’t heave uncomfortable any longer. His head falls back on the headrest and he breathes.

Jimin despises waiting.

The waiting game is something he’s all too familiar with. Every time his father would go on a spontaneous spiral downwards, him and his mother would sit on the edge of anticipation for hours on end—sometimes days—before they got any news. Sometimes he’d be drunken, on the side of the road and other times, he’d be mixing up trouble with loan sharks.

But tonight, it’s a different type of waiting.

Jimin still doesn’t fully understand where he stands amongst everyone, especially around Jeongguk, but he knows there’s a reason why he sits here and he waits. All he knows, it hurts him too. The confirmation that Yoongi’s been attacked startled him, too.

He keeps the phone closeby in case they need to contact him but half an hour passes and there hasn’t been any news or updates, his phone notifications remaining dry.

Jimin wants to busy himself from the idle time on his hands but there’s nothing he can that eases the swirling thoughts tormenting him. He calls Hoseok but it goes straight through to voicemail, presumably working another late night at the restaurant.

Forty-five minutes later, the door finally unlocks.

Jimin jumps up, immensely relieved to know they’ve made it back safely but the scene before him isn’t a desirable one.

Taehyung enters with Yoongi in his arms, carrying the older man bridal style as he moves forward and gently lowers him onto the couch. Jeongguk’s in tow, meekly walking behind them with an impassive expression.

Taehyung turns to Jimin, sighing.

“Thank God you’re here. I’m going to need your help.”

“Of course.” Jimin agrees without a second thought. He’s not sure he could object even if he wanted to, compelled to help upon noticing Yoongi.

Jeongguk stands by the doorway and makes no movements towards them. There’s dismay clear in his pupils and his entire posture is frigid, he looks pitiful. Jimin’s heart squeezes and as much as he wants to reach out to touch him, he knows Yoongi’s condition is more critical and requires his immediate attention.

“How can I help? What do I do?”

“There’s a kit in the kitchen, in one of the cabinets,” Taehyung guides him calmly. Though the boy’s body is seized up with fear, he still seems to be able to sort through his thoughts and take the lead role. “I need you to apply pressure on the back of his head to ensure the bleeding remains stopped and then I need you to clean up his face whilst I check for more bruises. I really need to make sure there’s no internal bleeding.”

Jimin moves to retrieve the kit, opening up a few cabinets before he finally spots the green box. As he turns back around, he notices Jeongguk’s quietly retreating back into his bedroom and closing the door behind him. Jimin turns back to Taehyung who’s also staring after Jeongguk.

“Is he okay?” Jimin finds himself asking.

Taehyung shrugs helplessly as he undoes the buttons of Yoongi’s shirt. “I can’t afford to find out just yet.”

Jimin understands and as much as he wants to devote his entire attention to Yoongi, he can’t help the side of his brain that dwells upon Jeongguk too. He comes back to the couch and crouches down besides Yoongi’s head. He grabs a few dressings, pressing it against the back of his skull and noticing only a light splatter soaks into the material.

Jimin swallows past the initial wave of unease. At the very least, he’s not steadily losing blood anymore.

He uses the salt water solution and carefully dabs the dried blood away with the cotton wool, shuffling forward to concentrate on the task. Yoongi seems to be drifting in and out of consciousness, cursing under his breath as the solution stings his open cuts.

Taehyung halts where his hands are wandering down Yoongi’s leg, frowning when he catches the pained sound.

“Hyung, it’s okay. It’s just Jimin cleaning you up.”

Yoongi groans and rolls his head to the side, adjusting to the new sensation but he doesn’t protest otherwise. He furrows his brows and tries to relax. Taehyung reaches forward, offering a squeeze to Yoongi’s hand before he gets back to work.

It takes a while to clean up the cuts and scratches on his face, trying not to wince every time his eyes wander down to Yoongi’s broken nose.

Once Taehyung’s done, he comes back to sit down on the coffee table. He finally exhales, putting his head in his hands for a second.

“Is he okay?” Jimin asks.

Taehyung sighs. “The final verdict: he definitely has broken ribs, a broken nose, he’s managed to fracture his ankle somehow and I’m assuming it’s when he tripped whilst trying to escape, there’s cuts all over, obviously. I was fearful that his organs might’ve collapsed due to the force of the impact but there’s no signs of internal bleeding, whatsoever. I think he’s going to be okay.”

Jimin exhales a breath of relief. He trusts Taehyung’s judgement entirely.

“Let me bandage him up, then.”

Jimin takes his time as he plants plasters in all the appropriate places on Yoongi’s forehead, using the bandage dressing to wrap it around his head and protect the forehead. Though Yoongi’s still in bad shape, he seems to be considerably better than when he had arrived and Jimin feels a twinge of satisfaction.

“I need to tend to hyung for a little while,” Taehyung gets up from where he sits, walking to the freezer to pick out the ice pack. “Numb the broken bones, give him painkillers around the clock—just the usual.”

Just the usual. Taehyung sounds detached from the scene before him and it’s not a surprise. Whilst it’s not a pleasing ordeal to be a part of, Taehyung’s has had to face it many times over and over with Jeongguk. He’s become an expert in the realms of taking care of individuals who frequently get hurt.

“But he’s definitely going to be okay?”

Taehyung’s eyes soften just slightly as he wanders back into the living room, shuffling Yoongi’s body forward so he can sit down besides him. Yoongi’s head lands in lap and Taehyung tenderly plays with his hair as a means of consultation. Yoongi, despite the pain, seems to recognise the warmth and he instinctively curls into Taehyung’s touch.

For the first time since tonight, optimism takes over Taehyung’s features.

“He’s going to be just fine.”

After ensuring that Yoongi’s safe with Taehyung, Jimin finally withdraws himself from the situation. He walks over to Jeongguk’s room, tackling the next person that’s worrying him, as he knocks on the door lightly.

“It’s me, Jimin. Can I come in?”

There’s shuffling around from the other side as Jeongguk sniffles from behind the door.

“You’re still here?”

“Yeah, I was helping Taehyung.”

There’s a pause. “You can come in.”

Jimin feels relieved as he holds down the door knob, entering the room. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he was turned away, not after everything they’ve been through today starting from the painting and ending with this.

As he enters and notices Jeongguk, his heart drops to the pits of his stomach.

Jeongguk’s shuffling upwards to sit, crossing his legs. He’s been crying, so much is clear. His eyes are red rimmed and droopy, barely able to keep them open. His body is still trembling with the aftershocks of his mourning session and he’s still struggling to draw even breaths.

It pings at Jimin’s chest. There’s not a single time he can recall seeing Jeongguk being reduced down to this state, broken and completely stripped of his usual facade. There’s no hiding, there’s no hard exterior shell that he usually stands before. It’s just Jeongguk in his most vulnerable, rawest form and he’s still reaching out to take Jimin’s hand.

Jimin obliges. He takes the hand and allows himself to be pulled closer as Jeongguk tightens his hold.

“D’you mind getting into my bed? With me?” He whispers.

Jimin merely shakes his head, sitting down gingerly and releasing their hands.

“Of course not.”

He folds his hands into his lap and waits. Jimin’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure whether in this moment, he give the younger man solace or whether he should be brutally honest. Jeongguk doesn’t opt to talk either, biting down on his lips and keeping his gaze diverted downwards.

“Um, so,” Jimin begins when the moment spans on for a moment too long. “Yoongi’s going to be fine.”

Jeongguk looks up at that, his features contorting into an undetectable expression. He doesn’t say anything at first, wrings his fingers together as a means of distraction. He pants a breath, nodding.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He affirms. “I mean, his current condition isn’t ideal. He’s in a lot of pain and has a broken nose, ribs and ankle but there’s no lasting damage. None of his organs have collapsed, there’s no internal bleeding, there’s no intermediate need for attention. I’m guessing Jan didn’t want the issue to have progressed towards something more serious, surely it’d only come back onto him.”

There’s a long pause.

“So, he’s okay?” Jeongguk seeks for confirmation.

Jimin turns towards him. There’s a burning desire within him to seek out physical contact so he does, doesn’t think twice before grabbing Jeongguk’s hands within his again. His skin is cold but Jimin rubs him gently, hoping to warm the boy up. Jeongguk seems to appreciate the gesture, eyes fluttering shut.

“Yoongi’s okay. Taehyung says, he’s going to be just fine.”

Jeongguk throws his head back, another sigh escaping his lips.

“Thank God,” he mutters under his breath. “I thought—I really thought I was going to go crazy.”

Jimin smiles sympathetically, squeezing their hands.

“It’s okay. You really care about him, it’s not surprising you’d feel that way.”

He shrugs. “I just.. I just left him in the living room just now, I didn’t even ask. I allowed Taehyung to take care of it all—”

“Hey,” Jimin cuts off the self deprecating rant. “I noticed when you walked through, you were literally on the verge of a panic attack, Jeongguk. It’s not wrong to withdraw yourself from a situation that’s not going to help you, okay? Are you okay?”

Jeongguk doesn’t respond for a while. His eyes wander down to where they have a firm hold on each other, tilting his head and inspecting the touch before looking back up. The sides of his lips tug into a half hearted smirk.

“I’m fine.”

“You still seem on edge.”

“I am,” he admits with a laugh. He pulls free momentarily to wipe under his now dry eyes, sighing. “I need to lay down. Can you lay down with me?”

Jeongguk’s voice is timid as he asks, like he’s afraid of being told no. It pulls at Jimin’s heart strings and he finds himself agreeing without a second thought, reassuringly smiling at Jeongguk.

They shuffle into position on Jeongguk’s bed. Jimin’s head falls down onto the pillow as he eases him into comfort, trying to loosen up now that the worst of the situation has been dealt with.

As Jeongguk turns to face him whilst laying down, he offers a smile of his own.

“Sorry…” He mumbles. “I just, it’s a lot.”

“I know, Jeongguk.” Jimin promises. “I know it is. You don’t have to apologise.”

“I really need you keep me from from doing something stupid. I… I could murder Jan, right now. Really.”

Jimin tuts quietly and he edges forward, the proximity of their bodies causing him to inhale sharply, trying to will down the erratic beating of his heart, attempting to focus on Jeongguk before him instead of his wild thoughts.

“No one’s murdering anyone.”

Jeongguk closes his eyes as he laughs. “Noted.”

Jimin wants to ask a million questions. Ever since he had found out Yoongi got attacked mere hours ago at the gym, they had been tormenting him but he knows it’s not the right time to ask. Pushing Jeongguk into more anger will only result in another bad situation which he’s not sure he can live through again. This entire dynamic of underground fighting is still fairly new to him, everything almost overwhelming.

(Mood: Ed Sheeran - Lego House)

Instead, he remains silent.

There’s a sense of serenity that envelops them in the moment together, hands joined together and lying facing each other. He doesn’t want this to fade away, wants to stop time and remain just like this. He doesn’t want to feeling of fondness that swells in his body to evaporate. He doesn’t want to linger away from the way Jeongguk’s eyes close and his breathing begins to reduce down to a normal beat, body becoming lax.

Jimin offers a tentative squeeze to their hands.

After a few minutes, Jeongguk eyelashes flutter open and he peers at Jimin. His eyes are a darker shade than normal but there’s no lustful, or ulterior motive, behind them. He just looks at Jimin and then he whispers.

“Tell me a fond childhood memory.”

Jimin furrows his brows at the unexpected request, not something he had anticipated Jeongguk would ask of him. He takes a short minute to search deep within his mind, wracking up a good time he can recall. Unfortunately, most of his memories are tainted with despair and suffering, with tears and the urgent need to escape.

The last thing he wants to do is put a damper on the situation.

“Oh!” Jimin perks when he remembers something, a beam taking over his lips as the recollection overtakes him. “I remember once, my mother took me shopping. My mother and I, we were relatively close, y’know? I relied on her for everything. There was a new Spider Man toy that I really wanted, was dying for, begging for but we weren’t exactly the wealthiest family and luxuries like toy were… y’know, just not a thing in our family.” He stops for a second, just to observe Jeongguk’s reaction thus far. The younger man seems completely engrossed in the story, eyes wide and trained on Jimin’s lips as he speaks. He continues, feeling lighter than he has all night. “One day, she came to me and said ‘Minnie, I have a surprise for you.’ I had no clue and as we walked into the grocery store and she lead me to the toys and let me pick out what I wanted.” Jimin pauses, a sudden burst of giggles overcoming him as he recalls the giddiness he had felt. “I think I cried in the store.” He ends the story with.

Jeongguk’s expression has transformed to one of complete affection, his nose scrunched up like he’s resisting the urge to laugh. He doesn’t manage because he starts to cackle, covering the sound behind the palm of his hand. His eyes crinkle as he laughs, turning into slits. It’s beautiful sight and Jimin realises, with a start, he wants to keep making Jeongguk laugh.

“You were a nerd. Spider Man, huh?”

Jimin swats his shoulder playfully, faux offended.

“I loved action movies! I still do, honestly.”

“Yeah?” Jeongguk tilts his head to the side, a toothy grin taking over his lips. “I’ve never seen an action movie, to be honest.”

Jimin’s mouth slackens. “What? Never?”

“Never.” He affirms. “Are they good?”

“I mean…” he shrugs. “Each to their own but you’re into fighting, so I’m going to assume you’re going to love action movies. You should watch one, one day. I, obviously, recommend Spider Man.”

Jimin doesn’t realise he’s going off on a tangent and when he finishes his sentence, his eyes widen and a squeak falls from his lips. His cheeks flush from embarrassment, attempting to curl into himself.

Jeongguk doesn’t allow him to, though. He pulls on the hands that are still intertwined together, still spreading warmth through Jimin’s fingertips and forces their gazes back to each other.

“I’ll watch Spider Man.” He promises.

Jimin’s cheeks grow red as he leans in and without thinking, tucks his head into Jeongguk’s neck. He wouldn’t, normally. He’s just trying to seek out comfort after the night they’ve endured, after tending to Yoongi and seeing how the man was suffering. It’s crushing but coupled with the light-headed warming he feels right now, it makes it all worthwhile.

“Tell me a fond childhood memory, too.” Jimin asks.

Silence ensues afterwards and Jimin wonders if he’s pushed the line, tried to ask for more than he should’ve. He waits patiently, though, eyes trained on Jeongguk who takes a deep breath.

“I don’t, um—” Jeongguk pauses. “I don’t have one specific fond memory, I don’t think. I just… I have a sister.”

Jimin holds himself tightly as he waits, his mind reeling from the newfound information. Jeongguk has a sister? In hindsight, the news of someone having a sibling shouldn’t be revolutionary but with every piece of information Jimin learns, he feels like he’s crawling into Jeongguk’s body and learning his deepest thoughts.

“Oh.” He says once and then waits.

“Her name’s Sunhye. She’s two years younger than me so she’d be, um… seventeen,” Jeongguk stops at that for a minute, exhaling sharply before he continues. His eyes look tortured and as much as Jimin wants to question, he allows Jeongguk to fill in all the curiosity. “Sunhye was just… she reminds me of Taehyung. Always wanting to be there for others, always putting others before herself. There’s not a specific moment that sticks out to me but, just her, in general. Once, we made a blanket fort and we sat inside with a torch whilst we talked each other down and she told me she had a crush on someone at school. Just, little things like that.”

Jimin soaks in every single word that he hears, finding himself instinctively edging forward and seeking out Jeongguk’s warmth. Jeongguk accommodates his body immediately, not turning frigid and taking refuge within him, too.

They lay in quiet for a moment after Jeongguk finishes his story as Jimin searches for the right words to say. It means a lot to him that Jeongguk’s comfortable enough, feels safe enough, to tell him something intimate about his life. He doesn’t want to blow it by saying something he’ll only regret.

“Sunhye seems like a beautiful girl.”

“She was.” Jeongguk let's out before correcting himself. “Is, she is.”

Jimin hums as he closes his eyes, still snuggled into Jeongguk’s side.

The exhaustion of the day overtakes him and he allows his eyes to drift shut, pacified from how tranquil the moment is before them.

Jeongguk isn’t pushing him away but he’s not moving in closer either, just keeping still and allowing Jimin to rub off the warmness that he requires. Jimin accepts the gesture. He nuzzles into Jeongguk and yawns, not able to articulate anymore words as his eyes flutter shut and allows the feeling to drift him off to sleep.

There’s a knock on the door that causes Jimin to stumble out of his sleepy daze, eyes shooting open.

Jimin glances around his surroundings, noticing he’s still in Jeongguk’s room. When he looks over to the alarm clock and notices that it’s nearly ten in the night and he’s been out blissfully for a few hours. Jimin starts work in a few hours but he attempts to push the thought away, yawning behind his hand. Jeongguk’s fast asleep besides him. During their slumber, they’ve managed to part from their cuddling position and ended up on opposite ends of the bed but the younger man looks at ease, his breathing evened out.

Jimin rubs his eyes as he gets out of the bed, stretching his arms as he opens the bedroom door.

Taehyung stands on the other side, an apologetic smile sprawled across his lips.

“Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah. It’s fine, though.” Jimin reassures, craning his head a little to glance into the living room. “How’s Yoongi doing?”

“Same old. I think he’ll be in a state for a while but he’ll manage, I’m sure.”

Jimin hums in understanding, sympathy imploring into his features as he waits by the door.

“As long as he’ll pull through in the end.”

“Yeah. It’s starting to really get to me though so I just thought, would you like a smoke break?”

Taehyung holds up a carton of cigarettes, a hopeful smile flashing across his lips and Jimin can’t deny that face a single thing. He looks back at Jeongguk once more just to make sure he’s still soundly asleep before nodding, leaving the room and shutting the door gently behind him. They walk down the stairs and out of the apartment.

Taehyung sits down on the lowered brick wall as he lights up a cigarette, taking a drag and handing the box to Jimin.

A smoke break, right now, sounds heavenly to him. He has no obligations as he takes it off Taehyung appreciatively, sitting down beside him as cups his mouth and lights his own one.

They don’t speak for a while. The two of them soak up each other’s presence side-by-side, watching the smoke curl up into the cold, windy air. Despite the almost harsh weather, the cigarette helps warm Jimin up and he has no protests. He’s grateful for the break from the intense atmosphere back at the apartment, able to catch a break.

“How’s Jeongguk doing?” Taehyung asks after a moment, turning to face Jimin.

“I think he was having bursts of anxiety attacks earlier,” Jimin begins to explain, pausing when he takes a drag of his cigarette and continuing once he’s exhaled. “I’m not sure, I don’t really know how he copes with… anything, to be honest but he had all the tell tale signs and he was crying before I went to him. We just talked and then we slept.”

Jimin, conveniently, missed out all the other details in between. The fact that they had been kissing and making out before the news had been delivered to them, putting an immediate damper over the mood they had been steadily settling into it. The fact that they’ve been seeking out physical contact with each other all day, holding hands, even somewhat cuddling on the bed.

There’s a time for everything and now isn’t the time to discuss revelations in a growing relationship.

Taehyung’s smile is small and barely existent. His features look heavy with fatigue, barely keeping himself upright. Beneath his eyes, there’s faint wrinkle lines that make him look older than he really is. Taehyung has to shoulder through a lot of dangerous moments for his friends and he does so, without a single complaint.

It’s admirable.

“I’m not surprised about the anxiety attacks. Yoongi hyung means a lot to him, I was expecting him to shut down.”

“Really?”

“Well, yeah,” he snorts. “He may act like he’s got his entire life together, that nothing and no one can scare him. But it takes someone he cares about be hurt for everything to crumble for him.”

Jimin hums a little under his breath.

“They’re really close.”

“They are,” Taehyung nods in affirmation. “Yoongi took care of him since the beginning.”

“How’d you meet Jeongguk, then?” Jimin asks curiously, not sure he’s ever heard of the story of how the infamous friends had even begun to interact in the first place.

Taehyung laughs at the memory, immediately smiling with his eyes crinkling shut.

“I had moved to Seoul from Daegu after my grandmother passed. I wanted somewhere new, where I wouldn’t see my grandmother with every corner I turned. I enrolled into university, too. I just searched around for apartment openings, for people looking for roommates and found Yoongi hyung’s ad.”

“Yoongi’s?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung cackles with delight, the sound resonating loudly on the quiet street. “Jeongguk had been living with Yoongi hyung and apparently, he was a messy person and insufferable. He found an apartment for him and needed someone to live with him considering Jeongguk was only sixteen.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, so. I got tied down with Jeongguk since.”

Jimin can’t help but laugh himself at the story. It’s an unconventional way to meet but it makes their bond even more beautiful. He had always appreciated Taehyung and Jeongguk’s friendship, had the liberty of being able to see the dynamic of the first day he had met Jeongguk back at the strip club.

“What was it like in the beginning?”

“Awful!” Taehyung replies immediately, causing them both to fall into fits of laughter. “He was horrible, fucking hell. He was just… he wasn’t warm to anyone in his life, he barely interacted with Yoongi properly let alone me. We avoided each other for most of the first few months of living together. I was busy working and studying at the same time and he’d be training all day long in the gym and going to the warehouse for his fights. Once, when I returned home, he had cuts all over and I asked him what happened. That’s when I learnt he was an underground fighter and well,” he shrugs. “The rest is history.”

Jimin feels his chest expand in size from all the new information being delivered to him. There’s something fascinating with each story he listens to, finding himself hanging onto every word. Every day, especially today, he learns something new and he cherishes every detail.

They lapse into mostly silence after that story, conversing back and forth quietly as they smoke. Jimin immediately inches for the second one once he’s finished, feeling no regrets whatsoever as he lights it up and settles back on the wall to get comfortable.

“What time is it?” Jimin asks after a while.

“Um, it’s…” Taehyung fiddles with his pocket, picking out his phone and pressing down on the home button. “Nearly ten forty-five pm. Do you need to be somewhere?”

“Well, yeah,” he sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. He puts out the cigarette, crushing the butt. “I have work at midnight, five hour shift.”

Taehyung’s expression turns to distasteful.

“Wow. After the day we’ve had? I can’t imagine trying to go and give some old men lap dances.”

Jimin snorts as he giggles.

“It’s fine. Some are quite attractive and I get paid well, sometimes.” Jimin promises, focusing on the select few positives of his jobs.

If he avoids Jaesun successfully tonight, he might even possibly have a good night. Jimin deserves it, after the last few hours he’s had. It’s been a whirlwind from start to finish and he only requires to comply through five more miserable hours before he can finally crash afterwards.

Taehyung smiles. “As long as you enjoy it.”

The last thing Jimin enjoys is his job. He’d prefer any other circumstance over the one he’s stuck in, out of helplessness and a lack of his own free will. But he doesn’t voice that out loud, only shrugging.

“Who actually enjoys working?”

“True.”

Jimin finally stands up as Taehyung does at the same time. They retreat back into the apartment together, the place dead silent as they tiptoe around the kitchen. Taehyung pours himself a glass of water as Jimin waits by the counter, both their eyes fixed on Yoongi who sleeps soundly on the couch.

He seems to be in pain, even in his sleep. Undoubtedly.

Jimin frowns as he observes the scene, forcing his eyes elsewhere as his chest constricts painfully at the sight of ruffled, disturbed Yoongi.

“How long do you think it’s going to take him to recover?” He questions, curiously.

“A few weeks, probably. The ribs will be the killer.” Taehyung takes a sip of the water. “But he’ll be fine. He’s always been a good at dealing with pain.”

After exchanging a few more words, Jimin nods and walks back into the bedroom. He slips in quietly, closing the door softly behind him as to not disturb Jeongguk.

As much effort as he tries to put in to be discrete, Jeongguk still stirs.

He mumbles under his breath as he stretches out his limbs, agitated with broken sleep and taking naps at the wrong times. His eyes flutter open as he focuses in on Jimin standing before the bed, his brows furrowing.

“Are you leaving?” He immediately asks, not sounding pleased.

Jimin sighs as he nods in confirmation, grabbing his belongings from where he had initially pushed it under the bed. He pulls a hoodie over his body, zipping it up.

“Yeah. I have work.”

“Cancel,” Jeongguk says immediately without missing a beat. “Fuck going to work, where they can get your hands all over you. Fuck that, after today. You must be tired.”

Jimin is tired. It's evident in every bone in his body, his weight feeling heavier than usual. The nap hadn’t helped much, only aiding towards making him yearn even more to stay in bed with Jeongguk to manage a few more hours.

“I can't,” Jimin retorts gently. “Trust me, I would if I could.”

Jeongguk shuffles on the bed, sitting up and crossing his legs as he resumes the position from before. He looks ethereal like this, in the dark room with glints of moonlight shining through the window and sleep hazed eyes.

“Can't you call in sick? Surely, they can't force you to work if you're sick.”

Jimin laughs. As much as he'd like to, he knows after working only last night, Jaesun wouldn't believe him. Jaesun has him on a tight leash, able to tug him right where he desires. The sum of the debt hangs heavy between them and whenever Jimin even thinks of stepping out of the line, his father and the money is thrown back in his face.

“I worked yesterday. They know I'm not sick.”

Jeongguk looks like he wants to keep protesting but realises it's a lost cause. He’ll won’t get anywhere with the argument. He sighs as he slumps back into the wall, eyes narrowing into slits.

“Will you come back?”

Jimin considers this, shrugging.

“It'll be five in the morning when I finish my shift and I don't want to disturb anyone by returning so late,” Jimin says honestly, shaking his head. “I'm going to go back to my apartment, catch a few hours and I'll be back here tomorrow afternoon, okay? Is that okay?”

Jeongguk doesn't seem entirely satisfied but he chooses not to protest over the matter. He simply nods, the tiniest hint of a smile taking over his lips.

“I'd like that, yeah.”

“Good.” Jimin breathes out. “So, I'll see you tomorrow?”

Jeongguk nods. “You’ll see me tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

Sleeping seems like a myth to Jeongguk tonight. His mind is still racing, swirling with unnecessary, unwanted thoughts. He tosses and turns all night, his eyes fixed on the alarm clock and watching it near till five am. He knows he won’t be able to feel any inner peace until Jimin’s shift is over, and done with.

When five am strikes, Jeongguk feels the tension rinse out of his body and he finally relaxes into his sheets.

There’s a nagging feeling that dwells deep within him, making him feel like he needs to reach out and call Jimin, just to confirm he’s okay. But he refuses to give into the voices in his head, refuses to let them win.

There’s something seriously wrong about the strip club Jimin works at. He’s been there as many times as he can count on one hand and he still feels like the place is detrimental to anyone’s wellbeing. The club is surrounded by a constant smoke haze, drugs readily passed around and prostitution that doesn’t seem to be well managed by any of the managers there. He wonders if Jimin was paid by someone tonight for his ‘services’ and the thought eats away at his mind for a minute, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut from the displease.

If he needed any other proof about the strip club being a bad place, he’d just have to remember Jimin’s bruises. He’s noticed them on more than one occasion.

When Jimin had first approached him about needing training sessions to defend himself, he was timid and tended to cower up, as if to protect himself. When Jimin had bruises embellishing his skin, Jeongguk had known something was wrong and that deep intuition was the reason that he agreed to help out at all.

Jeongguk finally finds it within him to fall asleep at some point but only awoken, once again, when he hears Taehyung speaking.

“Hyung! Stop, don’t move, let me do it!”

He cranes his ears to hear in. It seems like Taehyung is preparing breakfast and he’s speaking in the soothing tone he uses whenever Jeongguk wakes up the morning after a bad fight. He finds himself instinctively unwinding when he hears Yoongi response.

“Taehyung-ah. I’m fine.”

The words may be muted through the walls that separate them, and sound strained, but surely Yoongi spoke.

Yoongi is okay.

Jeongguk rolls onto his ride side and finally, wills himself to sleep.

When he wakes up next, just before the afternoon, the first thing he feels is the remnants of blood still lingering on his body. He’s still wearing the same clothes from last night, his dark jeans tainted with the smell and dark patches on his inner thighs from Yoongi’s head wound spilling over. There’s also paint still pressed against his skin that hasn’t been completely wiped off by his tears yet.

He forces himself up and takes a shower, wanting to wash away any remains of yesterday.

A part of him is hesitant to face Yoongi.

Yoongi works tirelessly, endlessly to protect Jeongguk and yet, when it had mattered Jeongguk hadn’t been able to provide the same back to him. The events had been hard for him to shoulder through, destabilising him enough to not be coherent enough to help Yoongi. He can’t help but feel harrowed by his own lack of attachment to the situation.

He doesn’t want Yoongi to resent him for his effort, for his detached state. He doesn’t want Yoongi to think less of him for not being able to suck it up and to get his act together.

Finally, Jeongguk musters up the courage to wander into the living room once he’s refreshened.

Yoongi’s still sprawled out across the couch, his limbs stretched and propped under a pillow and the same for his head. He’s bandaged up around his forehead and his t-shirt rides up as an ice pack rests against his ribs. He looks alarmingly in pain, features scrunched up.

When Yoongi glances up at the noise, and notices Jeongguk though, his features begin to smooth out.

“Hey. Come, sit.”

“Hyung—”

“Ssh. Sit.”

Yoongi is struggling to speak in full sentences, his words still sounding a little slurred as he pats the space at the end of the couch, by his legs. There’s an eager expression fixed over his lips. It’s hard to watch the older man reduced down to such a condition, forced to recover from absolute agony.

Jeongguk doesn’t need to think twice, limbs working on their own accord as he walks over and sits down. He holds himself together tightly, folding his hands in his lap as he waits patiently.

“Yah, what is up with you?” Yoongi scolds. His tone is playful but there’s an underlying clear sign of concern, his eyes turning to slits. “You’re so quiet, it’s fucking creeping me out, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk snorts as he tilts his head to the side, analysing the extent of Yoongi’s injuries carefully for the first time. He had been carefully avoiding to do so, not wanting to burden himself with the image of a undefendable Yoongi. He winces as his eyes scan over his battered, defeated expression and frowns.

“Who did this to you, hyung?” Is all he can ask.

Yoongi’s face falls and his slight optimism in his voice with it. He stares at Jeongguk hard for a second before he clicks his tongue, looking away with a clenched jaw.

“There’s only one person who’s capable.”

“So, it’s Jan?” He tries to keep the growl out of his voice. “It’s definitely Jan?”

“Yeah.” Yoongi tries to keep his tone levelled but there’s an edge of something dangerous. He shuts his eyes, squeezing. “I remember his face clearly. He was smiling as his men beat me to the fucking ground.”

It’s not revolutionary information. Jeongguk had known this already, it had been confirmed for him the second he had gotten the call but hearing it from Yoongi’s mouth only aids towards his frustration, his resentment that’s boiling down in the pits of his stomach. The things Jeongguk would do if he could get his hands on Jan terrifies him.

“How did it happen, then?”

Yoongi’s face darkens as he struggles to bring the words to his mouth, adjusting uncomfortably on the couch. The ice bags jostle on his body so Jeongguk moves forward, removing them for ten minutes and giving him a break from the iciness.

A part of Jeongguk knows that learning details about what happened will only help in aggravating him further but he needs them. He needs to learn, he needs to understand what happened.

Taehyung seems to wander back into the living room at that precise moment. There’s a perplexed look set on his face, eyes darting carefully between the two figures before back at Yoongi.

“Is everything alright?” He asks cautiously.

Yoongi rolls his head back on the couch, albeit with some difficulty, and offers Taehyung a reassuring nod.

“All good.” He promises. “Come, join us.” Taehyung does so, settling down right on the floor and crossing his legs as he looks up to the two of them eagerly. “Jeongguk was just asking me what had happened last night, he wanted details.”

Taehyung’s eyes become cloudy like he’s trying not to react, nodding distantly.

“I doubt that’s a wonderful, cheerful story we want to hear first thing in the morning.”

“It’s not. But we need to talk.”

They both wait for Yoongi to continue the encounter from yesterday. The event is still raw on everyone involved, everyone who had to witness Yoongi’s crumpled figure on the floor. Jeongguk can’t help the spiralling questions that circle through his mind: how long would’ve Yoongi had been laying there, passed out in cold blood, if Seokjin hadn’t found him?

Yoongi finally clears his throat and speaks.

“I don’t remember much of the actual beating,” he begins to say, brows furrowed in concentration. “I remember going to the warehouse to pick up equipment for Jeongguk’s boxing, some new shit for the gym. On my way there, I was approached by two men. Their faces were covered and they had knuckle rings, I instantly knew something was up and when I tried to back away, they cornered me into an alley street. Jan was waiting there and well,” he laughs bitterly. “The rest, we all know.”

Silence ensues between the three of them, the air hanging heavy after Yoongi’s confession.

Jeongguk’s chest aches with a burning sensation he can’t seem to describe, making him feel bitter and cold. When his thought even begins to head in the direction of Yoongi getting beat to the ground by Jan and his men, his stomach curls up and the nauseous stirs almost instantly within him.

Taehyung’s expression seems tortured. He looks focused, eyes remaining trained on the coffee table before him. He shifts where he sits, attempting to get comfortable. He brings his legs up to his chest a moment later, struggling as he sighs.

“Okay but what about the war, then? It’s officially started?” Taehyung questions.

Before Yoongi can respond, Jeongguk cuts in.

“Um, actually,” he says with a hint of nerves. “Can we talk about this later?”

“Why?”

He waits a beat before responding. “I wanted to wait for Jimin. He doesn’t know anything yet and I promised I’d explain it to him, too. So I want him to hear this all. Whatever we talk about, I want him to be involved.”

There’s no answer from the other two boys for a long moment. Jeongguk keeps his gaze diverted downwards, not wanting to observe their looks. When he finally does look up and meet Taehyung’s eyes, there’s a prideful expression blasted across his face and he offers a reassuring smile.

“Sure.” Yoongi nods. “We’ll wait for him.”

Taehyung excuses himself in the meantime to start making lunch as he filters around the kitchen loudly, clanging the pots and pans together. He hums a tune under his breath, making idle conversation with the two of them as he prepares his meal, gathering all of the ingredients. It’s clear that he’s trying to keep the atmosphere light between them and offering as many words as he can to all of them.

But most of the times, his effort falls short and they all lapse deep into thought.

Yesterday had been trying to keep Yoongi alive, making sure he survived. Today is about surviving the war, though.

Jeongguk’s never witnessed a war before and he doesn’t feel so confident anymore, not after seeing Yoongi’s condition. They can cause some damage but Jeongguk’s certain that he can, as well.

He waits for Jimin, anticipating his arrival. He texts the boy a few times, not wanting to seem clingy but there’s no response from him and he doesn’t like to admit how antsy it makes him feel. He doesn’t want to worry. But there’s a sensation crawling under his skin and with each passing moment when there’s still no reply from Jimin, it gets worse. It edges further into the afternoon and still, there’s not a single word from Jimin.

Taehyung seems to notice his quietness because he walks over, wooden spoon in his hand.

“Here, taste this.” He brings the spoon up to Jeongguk’s mouth.

Jeongguk accepts the sauce that Taehyung has prepared, nodding affirmatively when he approves.

“It’s really nice.”

Taehyung smiles in appreciation before he tilts his side to the side, analysing him better.

“Jimin will be here, okay?”

He’s not sure how his friend knows that it’s on his mind but the words help soothe him, anyway. He’ll only feel better until Jimin walks through the doors and confirms his status through his appearance.

Eventually, after an hour of waiting, the doorbell rings. Taehyung retrieves the door and Jimin walks through quietly.

Jeongguk hates to admit how fast his heart begins to race almost immediately. Jimin’s dresses in clothes two sizes too big for him, the oversized sweater hanging off his body. He looks fatigued with his eyes a little puffy from lack of sleep and smile wavering on his face.

“Hey guys,” Jimin greets them all, offering a small wave. “Sorry I’m late.” He walks over to Taehyung, planting a kiss on his cheeks.

Taehyung leans into the kiss and waves the spoon in his hand around in the air.

“I’m just preparing lunch, come in.”

Jeongguk sits up a little when Jimin steps closer towards the couch and towards them. There’s a small smile that he reserved just for Jimin that he shoots towards the boy. Jimin just flushes a little, nodding at him.

“You alright?” Jeongguk finds himself asking, and attempting his hardest not to cringe at the tenderness in his voice.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Jimin rubs under his eyes, turning to face Yoongi with a hesitant look washing over his face. “How’re you doing, now?”

Yoongi offers a shrug. “I could be better, yourself?”

“I’m good. Tired.”

Taehyung comes back into the living room, smelling of pasta sauce. He sits back on the floor and tugs on Jimin’s arm so they sit side-by-side, cross legged on the wood. Jimin looks between them eagerly like he’s anticipating something. Jeongguk knows that after today, after this conversation, Jimin’s life may be changed. Getting involved with illegal people who follow an illegal lifestyle is always a recipe of disaster.

Jimin must notice the tension between them, eyes darting around the room until he finally asks.

“Is everything okay?”

Nobody offers a reply until Yoongi steps up to the task, sighing as he attempts to shuffle into a sitting position. Jeongguk reaches out immediately to stop him, tutting under his breath and pushing the man back into the couch. He picks up the abandoned ice bag and gently places it back on his broken bones.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about, Jimin. We need to talk.”

Jimin swallows audibly but he doesn’t shy away from the topic at hand, squaring out his shoulders and nodding.

“Okay.”

There’s a pause and when Jeongguk nods to Yoongi for him to continue, he begins.

“You remember when you got attacked, in the warehouse? In the ring?”

Jimin’s expression falls almost immediately. It’s obvious to anyone in the room that it’s a sore topic, something that the boy clearly doesn’t want to talk about. He waits a beat before he sighs.

“Yeah.”

“Do you remember Jan?”

“How could I forget?” He retorts with a twinge of annoyance.

If Yoongi notices the hardened tone, he definitely doesn’t comment on it.

“Well after the attack, when you got attacked—something happened. Jeongguk did something that potentially lead us into more trouble.”

The room stills and Jimin’s brows furrow in question. His eyes narrow into slits as he turns to glance at Jeongguk, confusion taking over his features. Jeongguk has to tear his gaze away, unable to take the way the boy looks at him.

“I don’t understand. What did he do?”

“He attacked Jan.”

Jimin’s silent for a long moment until his reaction begins to form, bewilderment taking over his features as his eyes widen. He turns to look at Jeongguk again and this time, refuses to divert his attention. Jeongguk’s forced to look back at him when the lingering glare lasts too long. The intensity behind Jimin’s orbs aren’t missed.

“Are you kidding me? What the fuck?” He finally breathes out.

“Jeongguk was provoked.” Taehyung’s quick to defend.

Yoongi sighs as he continues the story. “Jeongguk was really helpless. He had to go to the warehouse to collect the money from his winning match. He tried his hardest to avoid everyone but Jan approached him, continuously pestered him and then, when Guk tried to walk away, he pushed Jeongguk into the car which caused him to bust his lip. Jeongguk finally retaliated.”

“Is that why you had a bust lip that day, the time I asked you?” He directs the question at Jeongguk.

Jeongguk doesn’t answer with his voice but he gives him a brief nod, to confirm the answer to his question. Jimin curses under his breath before he turns away, looking back at Yoongi.

“Well, because of that, we’ve managed to start a war. Jan’s not happy with the fact that someone had the nerve to hit him back and get away with it.”

“A war?” Jimin repeats, eyes filling with fear almost instantly. “What does that mean?”

Jeongguk winces because Jimin looks so small, sounds so afraid. He hates how Jimin’s expression has turned sour, his eyes darting between the three people in the room like he’s frantically trying to understand. It takes everything within Jeongguk to not pull Jimin into his space and reassure that they’ll be okay.

But there’s nothing he can say that’ll make the situation any better.

The gravity of the war has finally began to sink into Jeongguk after the ordeal Yoongi has faced. He realises, now, how damaging it could potentially be for himself and everyone involved.

Yoongi laughs bitterly as he runs a hand down his face.

“It’s a war, Jimin. Jan wants to hurt us.”

“Jeongguk was provoked, though!”

“Yes, but regardless—Jeongguk managed to do some damage and they’re going to come for our blood after what happened.”

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut at his words. He hates that because of his irrational, though almost justified actions, Yoongi has been injured and almost unable to defend himself.

Yoongi had been seriously hurt, fighting for his life and struggling to breathe properly with an irregular heartbeat. It wasn’t a minor injury and neither was the situation to be taken lightly. Jan really was out for bloodshed.

“What’re you guys gonna do, then?” Jimin whispers, voice reduced down to a hush.

No one really knows the answer to his question. Jeongguk has been contemplating different solutions in his head ever since but they all, in one way or another, end up in misery. He can’t stand watching another person he cares about get hurt and the thought of Taehyung even possibly being on their hit list makes his blood boil.

Yoongi is nibbling on his lips absentmindedly as he tries to figure out an answer to his question.

“It’s hard to really say,” he eventually decides on saying. “There’s different ways we can approach this but it’s not going to be positive either way.”

Taehyung shifts forward at that. “Tell us about them, hyung.”

“Well, the first way: we can ignore what happened—”

“No.” Jeongguk’s cutting off the suggestion before the older man even has the chance to expand upon his point, eyes feral. “Are you kidding me? Jan beat your ass to the ground and you want me to ignore it?”

“Well, would you like to die?” He asks coolly in return.

“I really don’t care if I die. You must think I’m crazy if I’m just going to let this slide.”

Jimin’s eyes wander to him again and they’ve darkened, a sense of fear settling behind them as if he’s just realising the weight of the situation. Jeongguk doesn’t give in, not wanting to wilt under his gaze. He can’t back down now. He can’t let Jan think it’s okay to hurt his own people.

Taehyung notices Jeongguk’s troubled look, reaching for his hand.

“Hey,” he says softly. “I know it’s hard but we have to think about our safety first. If you attack, Jan’s only going to come back.” He finishes with a firm squeeze to his hand, as if to cement how much he dislikes the idea.

“Not if I kill him.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue in distaste, reaching forward with all his might to deliver a slap to Jeongguk’s shoulder.

“Yah, seriously. If you don’t stop this crazy talk, I’ll kick you out.”

“This is my apartment.” He deadpans.

Yoongi uses the ankle that’s not broken to kick him harshly in the back as a sign of warning. His look changes to a serious, uneasy one as his brows knit together.

“Jeongguk.” His voice is cold, no room for arguments whatsoever. “I only said that was one suggestion. There’s other ways we can do this. We can fight back the right way, through the ring, through showing your dominant status by demanding fights with all of them and smashing every single one of them.”

“That didn’t work, Yoongi. They still came for you.”

“They came for me as a warning.”

“No, hyung.” Jeongguk shakes his head. It’s beginning to bother him how insistent Yoongi is acting on backing down without showing a fight. They’ve never been known to go down quietly. “He did this to start the war, he did this to send a clear message.”

Yoongi’s features scrunch up together as he halts for a second before speaking.

“I don’t want any of us to get hurt.”

“We won’t. Not if we do this properly.”

No one replies to him. Jimin, who’s mostly been mute for the duration of the conversation, shifts forward so the proximity between them is close enough that Jimin’s leg rubs against Jeongguk’s. He busies his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on the hanging skin anxiously.

He looks so troubled that Jeongguk almost has the urge to reach over and touch him reassuringly. He doesn’t want Jimin to look so worried. He doesn’t want Jimin to run a mile once he realises how complicated their lives are.

He, also, doesn’t miss the way Jimin keeps tugging on his sleeves and pulls them down. He knows, right there and then and coupled with his late arrival, that something is seriously wrong.

Yoongi’s eyes remain closed as he’s in deep thought, trying to determine the next best move before he speaks.

“Okay…” His voice is quiet as he reopens, focusing on the ceiling above him. There’s a grunt in his voice, like it’s painful for him to talk. “The only other way we can do this is by confronting them.”

“Confront them, how?’ Jeongguk presses.

“We approach Jan. We push him into a wall, we press a knife against his neck and we fuck him up a little, warn him and shake him up. Perhaps mention family members, anything to make him back off. If he comes back, even after that—”

“We go in hard. We don’t back down from the war.” Jeongguk finishes.

Jeongguk spent his entire life not being able to defend himself against his father. He had been reduced down to nothing, feeling completely useless when he watched his mother’s skin colour with the bruises and his sister cry into her mattress. He had felt worthless when he had been stripped down from his clothes and forced to do unimaginable things.

He may have never been able to fight back to his father but there’s no way he’ll allow anyone to take that liberation away from him now. He built himself up, made himself the person he is. Jan made a mistake by hurting Yoongi because he’ll only suffer from the consequences to follow now.

Taehyung doesn’t seem too pleased by the entire ordeal. He looks completely bothered as he fidgets with the loose fabric on their carpet as a means to distract himself.

Jimin also doesn’t look any better. Jeongguk trains his gaze on him for a while and when the man tugs on his sleeves again, he can’t stay quiet any longer, not when there’s a nagging, constant feeling that something is wrong.

“Jimin, can I talk to you for a second?”

Jimin looks surprised to be directly addressed to. He raises his head and narrows his eyes suspiciously, nodding.

“Um, sure?”

“In my bedroom, please.”

Neither Yoongi nor Taehyung make a comment and they’re dismissed as easily as that. Jimin eventually gets up from where he sits on the floor, wrapping an arm around himself as he buries his body into the oversized sweater and follows Jeongguk away from the living room into the bedroom. Jeongguk slowly closes the door behind them and turns to face him properly.

Jimin looks timid, standing in the middle of the room with apprehension painted over his features.

“Are you okay? Is everything okay?” He asks softly.

Jeongguk tilts his head to the side, allowing himself a moment as his eyes scan over his body.

“You could answer that for me.”

“What?”

“Jimin, I’m not stupid. I know you’re hiding something about the strip club you work at. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes, y’know?” He reminds Jimin with an arched brow, not wanting to dwell on the memory for too long. “Are you still going to try and tell me everything’s fine right now?”

Jimin narrows his eyes carefully.

“I’m not hiding anything.”

“Oh, really?” Jeongguk drawls.

“Guk.” Jimin sounds tired when he says the name, resigned like it’s the last thing he really wants to talk about. He cuts the distance between them, walking towards him. When they’re inches apart, he continues to talk. “Men can be touchy assholes, okay? They take what they want to take and there’s nothing else to the story.”

“Why do you let them do this to you?”

“Listen—”

“You can find a better job, y’know? Somewhere where you’re not being abused and used because it’s not fucking right, Jimin.”

Jimin bites his lips and looks away, not seeming to have an answer to his angry rant. It looks like he agrees, though, if his fallen and beaten up expression is any indicator. He looks stuck in thought and even now, he’s beautiful with a contemplative look.

Jeongguk can’t stand the silence. He reaches out to grab ahold of his chin, forcing their eyes back to each other.

“Just… tell me you’re okay. Tell me you’re fine or I don’t know what I’ll do. I can’t handle someone else getting hurt.”

Jimin’s eyes flutter shut at that and he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t agree nor disagree. He simply stands there and allows the fingers to hold his chin up. It’s all the answer Jeongguk needs, the silence speaking volumes to him.

His hand travels from his face downwards, towards Jimin’s sweater. Though there’s slight apprehension in Jimin’s face, he doesn’t stop Jeongguk from the touches. Jeongguk reaches the hem of the sweater and gently pulls it up, exposing his skin underneath.
Jimin’s stomach is the first sight he’s met with. Tanned, smooth and toned. He smiles as he keeps pulling it off, over his head and throwing to one side of the room.

There’s bruises on his arm.

Light, but forming, bruises scatter over his wrists and extending upwards. They look painful and raw, a furious red colour with blotches of purple around the edges as they demand the utmost attention on Jimin’s pale, frail skin.

Jeongguk’s frown grows and he has to take a deep breath to prevent himself from reacting harshly. He doesn’t want to scare Jimin. He observes each bruise carefully, a finger reaching out to trace each one of them before his eyes travel back to Jimin.

“Who?”

Jimin seems unsure what to say and Jeongguk can practically see the gears shifting in his mind, trying to decide on an appropriate answer.

“It’s a regular client.”

“Regular?”

“Yeah. He pays well.”

“That’s not—fucking hell, Jimin.” Jeongguk feels a wave of fury roll through him, holding onto him tighter instinctively. “Just ‘cause he pays well, it doesn’t make him entitled to do this.”

“Maybe not—”

“There’s no maybe’s. No abuse, whatsoever, is justified.”

Jimin’s bottom lip wobbles as he takes a deep breath, withdrawing from the hold and taking a step back. Jeongguk allows him to do so, not wanting to push and he waits until Jimin has calmed down before walking up to him again.

“Sit down.”

Jimin raises a brow in question but he doesn’t argue, merely following what’s asked from him. He sits down on the bed and shuffles, crossing his legs and getting comfortable on the mattress.

Jeongguk walks over to his drawers, pulling out a bottle of lotion.

“That’s not necessary—”

“Be quiet.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes.

He sits down besides Jimin, crossing his legs to assume the same position. He takes a moment to allow his eyes to scan over Jimin’s abs and admiring the view.

“Give me your arm.”

Jimin only hesitates for a second before he’s nodding. He extends the discoloured clad arm towards him.

Jeongguk’s frown deepens as he takes the arm into his hand. Warmth spreads through his bones and dwells deep inside of him from the touch and he tries his hardest to ignore it as he opens up the lotion bottle and picks up a fair dollop with his finger.

Jimin bites his lip, a bashful smile appearing on his face.

It makes Jeongguk fond enough to lean down and without thinking twice about his decision, he starts to press tender kisses to each of the bruises. It’s an intimate move that he never imagined he’d make but it feels right when his lips move across the angry colours fading into his skin. They don’t belong there whatsoever.

Jimin whimpers as his mouth falls open, shifting forward instinctively.

It spurs Jeongguk on further but he takes his lip to soothe each mark carefully, going over each one twice and breathing hotly down on Jimin’s skin.

Jimin keeps leaning into the touch, shuffling forward so there’s no gap between them. His eyes soften, a watery glaze behind his shining pupils as he stares intently into Jeongguk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t voice a single word.

Jeongguk stops kissing when he’s satisfied, using his finger to apply right on top of the wet kisses he had planted just moments ago.

“D’you believe me when I say you don’t deserve this?” He whispers.

Jimin looks pained and he looks intently into Jeongguk.

“I believe you.” He responds after a few seconds.

“Good because you don’t. No one does.”

The cream is cold as he rubs it into Jimin’s skin, reaching every inch that has been tainted. His eyes remain fixed on Jimin as he does the motion, not daring to voice a single word and allowing the heavy implications of his movements to do the speaking.

Jimin maintains his gaze until he breaks it off, eyes fluttering shut.

“You okay?” He asks, not wanting to push their boundaries.

It’s a little unnerving to Jeongguk. He never knows where he truly stands with Jimin. It’s understandable, since it’s his own fault that their dynamics are confusing and hard to figure out. He has continuously, and ruthlessly, hurt Jimin and he has no real good explanation for it.

Sometimes, just sometimes, when he sees Jimin sporting the bruises—it reminds him of his younger self. Indefensible, trapped. It had been triggering enough to provoke a strong response but it was never okay. It was never acceptable.

Jimin hums, nodding.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry. I just, you never deserved anything I gave you.”

“Jeongguk.” Jimin opens his eyes again, shaking his head. He grabs Jeongguk’s spare hand and lifts it up, kissing the back. “You apologised already and I’ve told you, it’s fine. We’re over it.”

As much as he wants to protest the fact that there’ll never be enough words for him to articulate how truly apologetic he is, he remains silent.

Jimin looks sincere about his words, a heartfelt expression settles in his features.

Once he’s convinced he’s reached every inch possible, he reaches over to screw the lid of the lotion back on and he sighs softly.

A few minutes pass. They sit opposite each other, bodies touching as they bask in the serenity of the quiet moment. Jeongguk had never imagined that he’d feel comfortable in someone else’s presence, completely relaxed and the previous anxieties of the war a distant memory now. When he’s with Jimin, everything else quietens.

Jimin speaks but his voice is barely audible when he does so.

“Am I wrong for feeling scared?”

Jeongguk looks up, narrowing his eyes.

“Feeling scared of what?”

Jimin releases any touch they have, folding his hands onto his lap as he fidgets uselessly. The smile he attempts to put across his face fails.

“This whole war thing. I was completely unaware of the entire situation and now that I know.. I’m scared, honestly.”

Jimin looks genuinely fearful. His eyes droop down slightly, his lips curl downwards.

“Nothing’s going to happen to you.” Jeongguk says seriously. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“That’s not—I’m not worried about that.” Jimin laughs though it’s mostly humourless, he sounds tired. “I’m worried about you. Not everyone is untouchable Jeongguk and one day, you’re going to get burnt if you keep acting like so.”

Jeongguk shudders at the choice of Jimin’s wording, sighing. There’s a ringing truth to them.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says dismissively when the moment stretches on for too long. “Seokjin hyung will help us. He knows this shit more than I ever will. I know we’ll be just fine.”

Jeongguk doesn’t look entirely convinced. He bites his lip raw, contemplative.

“If you say so.” He ends the conversation effectively.

Jeongguk sighs as he settles back on the bed, using the palm of his hands to steady himself. He takes a moment to observe Jimin’s face, eyes wandering over his plump lips and his mind drifts to the thought of how good they taste when they kiss. He remembers how heavenly Jimin sounds when he moans into his mouth.

The thoughts he gets when it comes to Jimin terrify him.

They’re not platonic thoughts. They’re not thoughts he’s ever had for any other person before. All Jeongguk’s ever known is misery and pain. He’s never looked at another person and felt sparks flying, he’s never felt the need to completely admire another individual. Whilst the feeling had taken a while to occur, it’s intense enough now to make it hard to focus on anything else.

He wonders if Jimin feels the same and decides probably not, considering how he had initially treated the man.

“Are you working again tonight?” Jeongguk asks.

Jimin tenses up at the mention of the club before nodding. “Yeah.”

“Can I come see you?”

A look of turbulence crosses through Jimin like he’s unsure why he’d ask. If Jimin was to get hurt by any clients tonight, Jeongguk can only hope that his presence will be enough to ease off half to the neglect.

“I guess, if you want to…” Jimin says slowly, furrowing his brows. “I don’t understand why you’d want to.”

“Because… I think I’d really like another lap dance, Jimin.”

They both pause as Jimin looks at Jeongguk, narrowing his eyes questioningly before they both burst into fits of giggles. Jimin covers his mouth with his hand, trying to hide his bashful smile and Jeongguk leans over, grabbing ahold of his forearm and lowering.

“You have a nice smile. Don’t cover it.”

Jimin’s smile slowly grows into a grin, full on beaming as he radiates sunshine from his expression.

“Noted.”

Jeongguk’s not sure why he’s at the strip club. Quite honestly, the place creeps him out. The atmosphere is dingy, uninviting and it surrounds older men that have no joy in their lives, taking out their frustrations onto vulnerable, younger people. As soon as he enters, bystanders try to approach him, asking whether he wants a dancer, or a drink but Jeongguk dismisses them all and wanders to the far corner.

He doesn’t come here often. He doesn’t like it. But every time that he has, he’s learnt that Jimin remains in the shadows. He only comes out when he’s specifically asked to, mostly working in the back private room.

It’s almost as if his manager has him on a tight leash, tugging him right where he wants Jimin at any given time. Unlike the other dancers, who are spotless and seem almost pleased with their job—it doesn’t seem like that extends towards Jimin.

If anything, it aids to Jeongguk’s curiosity and his dying need to understand what’s really going on.

The club is crowded, considering it’s a Friday night and Jeongguk orders a scotch before he seats himself down in a discrete side of the club. His eyes tighten carefully as he scans across the club, half heartedly staring at the other strippers. They have nothing on Jimin.

Eventually, a figure approaches him and upon second glances, he realises it’s Jimin.

Jimin’s dressed in his tight shorts, sticking to his thighs and emphasising his perky ass. There’s glitter over his abs, making them stand out under the dull light. He has an extensive amount of makeup adorning his face, highlighting his cheekbones and drawing out the colour of his eyes.

Jimin’s ethereal, in every sense.

Jeongguk breath hitches just by looking at him, allowing his eyes the opportunity to scan over his body. He licks his lips, feeling aroused just by the sight of Jimin standing before him and the eventual build up of their sexual tension that seems to be reaching an all-time high now. There seems to be no new bumps and scratches on Jimin, his previous ones concealed with makeup and that loosens up Jeongguk’s dread. Jimin’s beautiful.

“How may I help you, sir?” Jimin tilts his head to ask, his voice purring.

Jeongguk hates to admit that he likes that title, likes how Jimin addressed him. He licks his lips again, parting his legs and patting on them.

“I’d like a lap dance, if you may.”

“I’m afraid, that’ll cost you money.” Jimin smirks.

Jeongguk withdraws his wallet from his pocket, picking out a wad of cash. He reaches over to grab ahold of Jimin by the waistband of his short, pulling him forward slowly until their bodies are touching once again. He slowly tucks the money into his waistband, looking up to Jimin through his lashes.

“Is that enough?” He whispers, leaning in. “For the private room?”

Jimin’s eyes darken but then he laughs.

“You’ll have to work for the private room. For now, just sit there and don’t touch me. Remember the rules.”

Jeongguk groans but he doesn’t protest. “Yes, babe.”

Jimin seems satisfied with his response but he makes no move to touch Jeongguk, at all. Instead, he stands before him and waits for the song to finish and change to the next. When the slow, sensual song of The Weeknd comes on—Jimin finally moves his body.

There's a certain glint in his eyes as he rolls his hips expertly, hands wandering over his tanned, bare chest and extending above his head. He knows what he's doing and he knows he looks good whilst doing it, smirking down at Jeongguk with every motion of his hips.

Jeongguk groans at the sight before him, growing frustrated already from the lack of touch. He digs his nails into the leather of the couch, to prevent himself from reaching out.

Jimin takes small steps forward with each movement the makes.

“You liking the show?” He questions.

Jeongguk both does and doesn't, as he rolls his head back and observes Jimin with half lidded, lustful eyes. He's not sure how long he'll survive.

“Potentially.”

“Potentially?” Jimin repeats with a pretty laugh. “Beg for me to touch you.”

Jeongguk raises a brow up to the boy in question. The music bass is loud enough that he has to crane his ears in, comprehend what Jimin’s asking of him. He's never begged anyone, for anything, after his father but this request is different.

The words fall easily from Jeongguk’s mouth, barely a moment of hesitation.

“Please, Jimin. Please, come give me a lap dance,” he requests more eagerly, not ignoring the hint of desperation in his tone as he tries to spread his thighs further. “Please, peaches. I need it so fucking bad.”

Jimin smirks, seemingly appeased by the begging as he steps forward.

He pushes Jeongguk’s chest so he’s laid back on the couch, straddling his hips torturingly slow.

Jeongguk holds his breath and he resists every urge to touch, balling his fists and keeping them devotedly to his sides. He doesn’t want to break Jimin’s rules, not when everyone around him does. Jimin seems to appreciate it, relaxing as he takes a seat and the tension between them disperses for a second as he looks into Jeongguk’s eyes, and smiles.

The smile is soft and the slow beat of the music fades into the background when Jeongguk stares into his eyes, noticing the slightest hint of a glimmer behind them.

“Jimin,” he speaks, though his voice is hushed. “You’re beautiful.”

Jimin’s eyes soften some more and his lips tug further up, grinning.

“Thank you.”

He deliberately rolls his hips down onto Jeongguk, keeping a pace that’s both pleasurable but tormenting. Jimin knows how to use his body to his advantage and he does so, appealingly. His expression is priceless as his mouth falls open, the tiniest of gasps falling from his lips.

“Fuck.” Jeongguk whispers. “I want to touch you so bad.”

Jimin laughs as he looks down at him. “Oh, really? That’s too bad.”

He picks up the speed, a hand coming up to rest on the wall besides Jeongguk’s head as he traps them in. Jeongguk swallows around the lump in his throat, unable to look anywhere but straight at Jimin.

Jimin gets up from his lap only to turn around, his ass in full view as he sits right back down.

Jeongguk can’t hold back. Not when Jimin is alluring in every sense, drawing Jeongguk in and making it hard to focus on anything else. Not when the view before him makes him salivate, hands reaching out to rest on his ass cheeks.

“Guk—” Jimin warns.

Jeongguk only squeezes down, slipping more notes into his shorts.

“Private room. Now.”

His tone leaves no room for arguments and Jimin must’ve recognised that because he smirks, eyes sparkling as he hums. He gets up, reaching out to hold Jeongguk’s hand and pull him up. They walk into the back, into one of the private rooms and Jimin locks the door and turns towards him.

“How’d you like me, sir?” Jimin’s tone is sultry when he asks.

There’s not much furniture in the room, just an old beaten down couch that they’d have to make do for the meanwhile.

“Take off your shorts and go wait on the couch, on your back.”

Jimin doesn’t hesitate even for a second as he simply goes to follow through with his given instruction, the shorts coming off his body easily as he situates himself down on the couch.

Jeongguk crosses the distance between them, pulling the shirt right off his head and climbing onto the couch as he straddles Jimin’s chest. He leans in and starts kissing Jimin insistently, the pace starting off eager. Jimin responds immediately, drawing him in closer as his arm wrap around his neck.

“Already desperate?” Jeongguk asks.

Jimin’s eyes remain shut as he answers.

“Always desperate for you.”

Jimin’s hands wander down towards Jeongguk’s belt, undoing it with some difficulty and trying to ease the younger man out of his jeans. He gets the hint and does what’s prompted of him, lifting his hips up and pulling the fabric off his body. He rolls his boxers down next, met with his own half-hard erection that matches Jimin.

He starts to stroke himself slowly as his eyes look down at Jimin.

“What do you want sir to do to you?”

Jimin bites his lip as he whispers.

“Want sir to fuck me into the couch, please.”

“I can definitely do that. Where’s the lube, babe?”

Jimin points out a dressing table in the distant corner. Jeongguk doesn’t waste any time, getting up from the boy to pick out the lube and the condom. He comes back to climb over Jimin’s again, grasping ahold of his cock and giving a rough tug. The touch makes Jimin keen, leaning in and wide eyes staring at Jeongguk.

“Please.”

“Please, what?”

“Please fuck me.”

“Please fuck me, what?” Jeongguk enforces with a slight shake of his head, hand tightening at the base of Jimin’s cock.

It makes his words come out like a rush.

“Please fuck me, sir. I need it so fucking bad.”

He parts Jimin’s thighs apart, settling between his legs as he grabs the bottle of lube and carefully drizzles a fair amount onto his fingers. With one hand still working over Jimin’s cock, stroking him to full hardness, he uses his index finger to gently trace around his rim. Jimin’s hole clenches instinctively at the touch and he moans.

Jeongguk takes his time teasing, though, having his fun with it.

He pushes his finger in just the slightest, to give Jimin a taste, before he withdraws and slows down the movement on his cock. The constant give and take makes Jimin even more desperate.

“Sir, please.”

He eventually takes pity on Jimin and pushes the finger in, right through the initial wall of muscles and the tightness as he takes his time to open Jimin up slowly. Jimin gasps out loud and asks for another.

“Greedy, aren’t you?” Jeongguk mumbles as he clicks his tongue, inserting a second finger and roughly pumping them without giving Jimin any time to adjust. “Just want me to fucking wreck you, don’t you?”

Jimin laughs breathily, nodding.

“I always do, sir. Fuck me so good.”

Jeongguk stretches him out carefully with three fingers deep inside of Jimin, stroking his inner walls and roughly pressing against his prostate. When Jimin squirts out precome, he uses the liquid to allow an easier slide over his cock.

Jimin’s begging and pleading by the time he’s tracing a fourth finger.

“I’m ready. I’m ready. I just really need your dick now, please. Please.”

Jeongguk doesn’t need to be told twice. He rolls the condom onto his fully hard cock and swiftly, without much warning, replaces his fingers with his cock. There’s a slight stretch as Jimin adjusts to the wider, bigger size but after a moment, Jeongguk starts fucking him earnestly.

The moment feels more intimate between them, despite the hard thrusts that Jeongguk delivers him. They’re staring right at each other, dark eyes gazing into each other and Jimin looks so beautifully ruined that makes Jeongguk double his effort.

He drops Jimin’s cock from his hand and leans right in, whispering in his ear.

“Want you to come just like this.”

Jimin looks surprised as he rolls his head to look at him properly, raising a brow.

“I-I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

Jeongguk changes the angle of his thrusts and each harsh push into him presses right up against Jimin’s prostate. The man’s thighs shake from the force that Jeongguk’s exerting but he voices no complaints, fingers digging right into Jeongguk’s back as he scratches his territory.

Jeongguk keeps going as hard as he can and Jimin keeps gasping. He leans down, pressing their lips together. Jimin responds to the kiss almost immediately, opening his mouth and allowing their tongues to intertwine. His cock twitches uselessly where it lays hard on his stomach.

“C’mon. I know you wanna come, baby.” Jeongguk whispers.

It takes a dozen or so more hard thrusts that touch right up against his bundle of nerves before Jimin’s breathing quickens, his lower stomach tightening in anticipation.

“I’m gonna come,” he says quickly in one breath.

Within the next movement, Jimin’s cock starts to release come onto his stomach. There’s a loud cry of Jeongguk from his mouth, head rolled back against the couch as his whole body spasms from the intense orgasm.

It spurs Jeongguk on and he fucks into him once, twice and then withdraws only to pull the condom off and come over his stomach at the right time.

He falls into Jimin’s chest, exhausted from the fucking and Jimin accommodates his body immediately as arms wrap around his back and draw him closer. It should be disgusting, lying on top of two orgasms, but Jeongguk can’t find it within himself to complain as he pants, willing his heart race to decrease.

Eventually, he withdraws and beams sweetly at Jimin.

“How was that?”

Jimin grins earnestly. “The fucking best, sir.” He uses the petname in a teasing manner now,.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes as he gets up from Jimin, slipping down on the floor to grab a blunt from the pocket of his jeans. He looks at Jimin questioningly.

“Am I allowed to smoke in here?”

Jimin looks up from where he’s wiping down the come on his stomach, raising a brow.

“Babe, you see people smoking in here all the time.”

He laughs because he knows it’s true, he just doesn’t want Jimin to get in trouble if anyone finds out.

“I just didn’t know about weed.”

“You’re good.” Jimin promises with a small smile, crossing to the other side of the room to throw the tissue away before walking back towards him. They sit down on the couch together as Jimin sniffles. “You fucked me so good.”

Jeongguk chuckles under his breath and he lights up the joint, taking a long drag of it.

“C’mere.”

Jimin cuts the distance between them and Jeongguk kisses him, exhaling out the smoke into his mouth. Jimin’s mouth remains open pliantly and his eyes flutter shut, drawing in a breath as he inhales.

“Mmmm.” He mumbles as he pulls back, falling onto the couch. “So fucking good. You always get the good shit.”

Jeongguk hums. “The best.”

Jimin beckons him forward again and they share a few lazy shotgun kisses, passing the drug between their lips. Jeongguk feels alive with the sensation, his insides tingling and his heart race pathetically increasing every time he looks towards Jimin and notices the smile sprawled across his lips. Jimin looks content.

“Can I ask you something?” Jeongguk asks once they’ve stopped kissing, just basking in each other’s presence as they pass the blunt between them. “If you don’t mind.”

Jimin glances up at him with a hum.

“Sure.”

“Um… so, I… are you ever going to consider quitting this job?”

Jimin’s smile fades a little and his expression falls. Immediately, Jeongguk knows the topic is one that he doesn’t like to discuss readily and he doesn’t want to touch upon it again, not if it makes Jimin react so quickly. He looks beaten down. Jeongguk waits for an answer though, patiently smoking.

After a long, long moment Jimin shrugs.

“Maybe. Why do you ask?”

“I just…” Jeongguk glances around the bleak, dark back room. He tries not to think about how many people come here with Jimin, pay to have their way with him. He tries not to think about whether or not it’s been consensual, if the marks on his body is any indicator that it’s not. “I’m just curious, I guess.”

Jimin tilts his head in confusion and he barks out a little laugh, shrugging.

“You remember how you said you never think too hard about anything that you’ll start regretting things?”

“Mmm…”

“Well maybe, I never think too hard about the future.”

Jeongguk considers this and it doesn’t help pacify him, not in the slightest. If anything, it’s Jimin trying to kindly say that he’s probably going to keep working here longer, that nothing is stopping him from doing so. He sighs and he doesn’t respond, nodding as he starts to smoke again. The weed is helping mellow out his system, slowly unwinding down as he tilts his head back and exhales the smoke up into the air.

Jimin crawls into his space, resting his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder as he whispers.

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

Jeongguk doesn’t bother to deny it the fact that he does, indeed, worry. He simply shrugs helplessly.

“I don’t choose when I can or can’t worry.”

Jimin looks flattered as he sighs, making grabbing motions for the joint and smokes it peacefully.

“If you keep visiting me often, I might never want to leave.”

Jeongguk looks towards him and notices his serious expression, letting out a laugh.

“I might just stop visiting you then.”

Jimin giggles as he hands the cigarette back, drawing closer to Jeongguk. Their bodies touch and the proximity between them makes Jeongguk’s heart ache, in the most inviting manner possible. He never imagined, one day, that he’d like the feeling. He shuffles forward to cut the gap and leans down, kissing Jimin. It’s intimate and there’s no smoke barrier between them, just their lips.

He swallows the sound of Jimin’s moan, kissing him more insistently like he’ll never get the chance again.

When Jimin pulls away, there’s a smile fixed across his face.

“Thank you for proving me wrong.”

“Proving you wrong?” Jeongguk repeats, arching a brow.

“I thought you were a bad person, and you’re not. So, thank you.”

His heart warms and it overwhelms him for a second, rendering him speechless. He almost wants to argue. Jeongguk isn’t a good person, either. He fights other people for a living, uses his fists to empower himself and leave them injured and that thrills him. Jeongguk is a bad person.

But Jimin looks at him intently with nothing but sincerity ringing true in his tone, eyes gleaming. He’s being honest.

Jeongguk swallows and he has to divert his gaze elsewhere, taking a drag of the joint.

“Well, you’re welcome.” He whispers back.

Jeongguk drops Jimin home after his shift and waits outside until he knows the boy has disappeared into the comfort of his own home before he drives back to the apartment. He tries to slip in discretely, not wanting to cause a sound that’ll disturb anyone but he’s unsuccessful when the lights flicker on and reveal Taehyung sitting on the couch. He’s nursing a cup of tea.

Upon analysing the scene before him properly, he notices Taehyung’s eyes are shining with unshed tears.

Jeongguk’s heart drops as he walks over to him.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong?”

It’s nearly five in the morning and Taehyung, who excels at having a good sleeping routine, is still awake which is unnerving enough for Jeongguk. Let alone the fact that he seems genuinely distraught, blinking back tears unsuccessfully.

“Taehyung.” Jeongguk says with a hint of urgency, crouching before him. He gently pries the cup out of his hand to take both of them into his own. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Taehyung’s frame shakes as he exhales.

“I moved Yoongi to my bed. He’s been out for most of the day, in and out from the pain.”

“Okay…”

“I’m just.” Taehyung finally gets to the point, shaking his head. “I’m just worried, okay?”

Jeongguk looks at him suspiciously, squeezing the man’s hands.

“Worried about what?”

“You, stupid.” He rolls his eyes and releases a laugh though it sounds forced and half hearted. He shakes his head again, rolling his head back so it rests against the couch. “You, and Yoongi. Seokjin hyung. Jimin. Myself. I’m worried. Am I not allowed to be worried?”

“No, you are. Of course you are. But it depends what you’re worried about.”

Taehyung takes a deep breath and he doesn’t speak for a while, sighing again.

“This war that’s happening,” he starts to say lowly. “At first, it wasn’t… I guess, I was in denial about the extent of how bad it could possibly be. But Yoongi got attacked and I’m dealing with his injuries and I can’t—”

“Taehyung—”

“I can’t watch someone else I love get hurt, okay?” His voice raises as he starts to finally cry. “I watched Jimin get hurt. I watch you get hurt, repeatedly, I watched Yoongi. I can’t fucking do this, Guk.”

“Hey, hey, stop.”

Jeongguk gets up from where he sits, acting frantically upon seeing Taehyung’s state get progressively worse. He seems to be close to hyperventilating and Jeongguk crawls into his space, drawing the boy closer for an embrace.

Taehyung buries his head into Jeongguk, letting out broken, choked up sobs.

“If this war gets bad, if Jan doesn’t back down—you’re going to die.”

Jeongguk has to laugh at that, clicking his tongue.

“No one’s fucking dying, Taehyung. The war’s not going to get that bad, I promise you.”

“You don’t know that. How can you possibly say that?”

“Listen,” Jeongguk sighs as he pulls the boy closer to him, kissing the top of his head in a comforting manner. He hates watching and listening to his best friend cry, pings him deep within. “I know you’re scared, I don’t know who wouldn’t be but I’m tough, remember?”

“Shut up, Guk. I’m serious.”

He laughs again before he nods, trying to slip into a serious headspace. He knows Taehyung needs him to act his age right now and step up to the task of comforting him. It’s not often Taehyung seeks out that reassurance, always wanting to deal with his problems by himself.

“I can’t promise it’ll be smooth sailing,” he starts to say as honestly as possible. “It’ll be messy, it might result in more cuts and beatings. It may not end as we want it to but that's just how it is.”

Taehyung sniffs as he pulls away from the hug for a moment, wide eyes staring up at him.

“You promise me you'll make considerably safe decisions, think everything through before acting upon it?”

“I promise.”

He sighs as he leans in again, seeking Jeongguk’s warmth as he speaks. His voice reduces down to a mere whisper, shutting his eyes as he does.

“You have a fight coming up..” Taehyung informs him. “How're you feeling about it?”

Jeongguk, honestly, feels nervous. He's had little to no time for training for the new fight, all his current spare time devoted to either Jimin and now, an injured Yoongi. With his trainer on bed rest, there's only so much he can do himself as he works through his existing routines and tries to perfect his skills.

He knows now, more than ever, he has a point to prove in the ring with the upcoming fight. If he loses, it’ll only aid in making the war worst.

“I don't know. I guess, it'll be fine.”

Taehyung hums as he listens.

“Maybe we should ask Seokjin hyung to go through some sessions with you?” He suggests. “I don't really like the idea of you going into that match without any training.”

It's a clever idea and considering he hasn't had a chance to talk to Seokjin yet, it'd give him a chance to figure out the older man’s opinions on the pending war that looms over their heads.

“Yeah. I'll give him a call.”

“He's been worried about you,” Taehyung continues.

“I'm fine,” he stresses. “I'm really fine.”

“If you say so.”

They lapse into silence after that. Taehyung reaches forward to take a sip of his tea again, making a disgusted sound when he does and complains that it's too cold to drink now. Jeongguk takes it to the kitchen to warm it up for him, bringing it back and stopping before him.

“Actually, can we talk about something?” Jeongguk asks lowly as he hands the cup over.

Taehyung raises a brow but doesn't say anything otherwise, gratefully taking the tea off him and nodding.

“Sure.”

“It's about Jimin…”

“Oh? Okay..” Taehyung seems a little confused but doesn't say anything else, waits for him to continue.

“I think there's something seriously wrong at the club he works at.” Jeongguk’s voice is barely audible, still finding it difficult to comprehend that he cares about Jimin enough to bring up his concerns to someone else. “I've just been noticing a lot of things. Like, he's always covered in bruises… or, I don't know. Haven't you noticed anything?”

Taehyung seems contemplative for a second, sipping at the warm liquid before he replies.

“Sometimes… yes, I have.”

“Well, it's his clients at the club. They break the rules and hurt him and I just. I can't help but wonder why Jimin isn't protected?” Jeongguk asks, mostly questioning himself from the thoughts that spiral through him constantly.

“What do you mean?” Taehyung raises a brow.

“His boss, who's supposed to protect the dancers and keep them in fit shape to bring in money—why doesn't he care? Why does he allow this obvious abuse to happen? Is he even aware?”

Taehyung expressions falls as if realisation has dawned upon him, mouth hanging open. He takes a moment before he replies, rubbing his eyes wearily.

“I.. know what you’re talking about but I don’t know what you’re trying to get at here.”

“I just, I get bad feelings about the place and the boss. We need to do something.” Jeongguk sighs.

“Do something like what?”

Jeongguk slumps back in his seat, shrugging helplessly. The more time he spends with Jimin, the more desperate he begins to feel towards the situation. It doesn't take an expert to figure out something is wrong. He can see it in Jimin’s eyes, he can feel it the minute he walks into that club himself. There's something seriously wrong.

“I don't know.” He shrugs helplessly. “I don't know but I swear Taehyung, I'm gonna figure it out.”

Chapter Text

Jimin’s hands ache from holding the heavy art folder, desperately wishing he had enough money to hire a taxi from campus rather than taking the crowded, suffocating train. He had been pushed into one corner during the evening rush hour, barely any space to take a breath let alone hold an art folder full to the brim with last semester assignments.

Once again, his life has been reduced to university and work.

As the last semester begins in full force, and his workload increases dramatically, Jimin ceases to have spare time on his hand. Any spare time he does have, he’s itching for a chance to hang out with Jeongguk. He’s been to the apartment a grand total of two times since their time together at the strip club and both times, they hadn’t been granted time alone. Jeongguk had been fussing over Yoongi, helping him fully recover and all Jimin could do was admire nurturing Jeongguk who cares for Yoongi so deeply.

He feels like he hasn’t seen Hoseok and Namjoon in a while.

Jimin feels like an unacceptable roommate. Both Hoseok and Namjoon are patient with him, never pushing beyond he feels comfortable with and always taking care of him. Hoseok has been by his side, devotedly, since the beginning of time and Namjoon, though mostly new to his life, has proven to be nothing but a complete support in his life.

Yet, he fails in all aspects.

He fails to provide the sufficient amount of rent, he fails to spend more time with them and talk to them. He fails to keep up with their lives, about Hoseok’s business and Namjoon’s boring, financial job.

So, even though he has spare time—he decides not to go to Jeongguk’s apartment. Instead, he takes the route back to his own home that he hasn’t seen the four walls of much besides his bedroom.

Jimin decides to surprise them so he turns the key in the lock painfully slowly, not daring to extract a single sound from the motion. Once the door is unlocked, he gently steps in and places his folder carefully on the floor. The apartment is mostly quiet except the hushed chatter coming from Hoseok’s bedroom, Namjoon’s voice can also be detected.

He grins as he walks over, his footsteps light against the wood flooring. He approaches the door and he’s prepared to knock until he hears the conversation that drifts through the barrier between them.

“We’re behind on rent.”

Jimin freezes as he takes a step back, deciding whether or not he wants to listen to this conversation. He knows, in hindsight, it’ll only devastate him if they’re in this position because of his inability to provide the right amount of money. Only to torture himself, because he deserves it, he stays standing there.

Namjoon’s sigh can be heard.

“I know. I’m trying, Hobi. My job is good but I also have to send money back home to my mother and father.”

Hoseok laughs half heartedly. “I know, Joonie. I’m not asking you to step up or anything. I’m just… the restaurant is going bad, y’know?”

“Is it?”

“Mhm. I thought taking over my parent’s business would be easy to adjust into the industry but I’m falling short.”

“C’mon, Hobi. I doubt—”

“No seriously. I can’t. I’m really bad at handling my own business, okay? I’m putting in extra hours, twelve hours extending to fourteen, sometimes fifteen on some days. I have all these staff members on my hands with no money to pay them! I’m freaking the fuck out, Nam—”

“C’mere. Stop, come here.”

There’s some shuffling and Jimin can envision what’s happening clearly. They’re probably sitting on the bed and now they’re embracing. Hoseok has always been soothed by physical contact and back when Jimin wasn’t selfish and wasn’t consumed with his own problems entirely, he’d be the one to listen to Hoseok’s concerns about the restaurant he was supposed to inherit.

Now, he hadn’t even been aware.

It only registers to Jimin moments later when he hears a choked off sob from the other side, undoubtedly Hoseok. His heart sinks to the pits of his stomach as he raises his fist, biting down to prevent any sounds slipping from his own mouth.

Namjoon’s talking to Hoseok in his trademark firm but tender voice, when he’s trying to advise and guide but also comfort. It seems to be helping because whilst Hoseok’s heavy breathing can be detected, his crying subsides relatively quickly.

“We’ll figure it out,” Namjoon’s promising him. “We’ll apply for a loan? We’ll… I don’t know, sell something. We’ll do something.”

“Jimin can’t find out, okay?” Hoseok insists, seemingly ignoring everything that was just suggested to him. “It’ll ruin him. He’ll do something drastic like work extra hours and I fucking want him away from that club, not spending more time there.”

Namjoon’s quiet for a long moment and there’s no movement behind the door before he’s whispering.

“We can’t just hide this from him. We can’t lie to him. I don’t want to hurt him like that.”

“Well, what the fuck do you suggest instead, Namjoon?” He sounds tired when he responds, voice weighing down. “Do you want him to die by overworking himself? Because his manager really will kill him.”

“I don’t know.” Is the honest reply that follows. “I worry for him.”

“Me too. I can’t… I can’t let him get more hurt. We’re his brothers, we have to protect him after everything he’s been through.”

Jimin can’t hear any longer.

He’s shaking his head and he’s bitten his lip so hard, it’s begun to bleed.

Even when they’re going through turmoil and they’re struggling to make ends meet, they’re discussing and talking about Jimin’s plight. The possibility of what would happen to him despite the situation they're in affects the two of them, mostly.

Jimin turns his head away, forcing his sense of hearing to evaporate as he descends back to the front door. Without thinking, he slams it shut and runs down the stairs of his block. He's out into the open again, his breathing declining to a harsh intake, outtake.

It feels like a mild anxiety attack and Jimin’s not sure what to do.

He hasn't experienced these attacks since he and Hoseok had made the move, away from his childhood area. Since then, Jimin had adopted a persona where he follows through events of his life like it doesn't truly affect him, detached. It’s almost like he’s living the life of someone else or he’s acting the star role in his own film. But now, it hits him like a rush.

Jimin’s circumstance is hurting Hoseok and Namjoon, too. His circumstance is causing issues for everyone involved in his life, for the worst.

He starts to walk.

He's not sure where he's going, no direction in sight. He turns on every opportunity provided to him. It begins to drizzle down with light rain at some point and Jimin welcomes it, throwing his head back and allowing it to wet his face.

Jimin’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he wonders whether his roommates had figured out he was home, considering how he stormed out noisily. He doesn’t bother checking, not once reaching down into his pocket to withdraw out his phone.

Once again, he's proving to be a burden.

He's not picking up their calls, he's not talking to them about the situation that's clearly dramatically declining because of his inability to help out with the rent.

Jimin is a really, really fucked up person.

He's been walking for around thirty minutes before he realises, he's outside Jeongguk’s apartment. He sighs, craning his head back so he can observe the building. Jimin fiddles with the hem of his shirt sleeve, wondering whether or not he should go inside and greet them with his presence again.

He deserves to be alone but it still doesn't stop Jimin’s feet that carry him through the front door, walking in since it's unlocked and up the two stories to their door.

Jimin takes a deep breath before he knocks, closing his eyes.

Taehyung retrieves the door, cradling a mug that smells strongly of peppermint tea. He's dressed in lazy, lounging clothes with baggy trousers and a top that reaches down to his knees.

“Jiminie,” Taehyung greets happily, pulling him into a one armed hug. “You okay? Come inside.”

Jimin's grateful for the embrace for the second, sinking into the touch before withdrawing. He wanders in, spotting Jeongguk sitting on the stool by the kitchen island.

He, also, is dressed in the same manner. He wears a dirty hoodie, zipped up to the top with sweatpants. He's nursing a cup of tea, too and he has a soft, tired smile fixed across his lips.

“Good afternoon, Jimin,” Jeongguk says.

Jimin tries to smile, falling short. He can't help the wistful undertones as he shrugs.

“Hey.” His voice sounds wavered. “Y’alright? I didn't interrupt, did I?”

Taehyung comes back from the front door, shaking his head as he holds out a stool for Jimin to sit on. He, himself, stands against the fridge door and takes a sip of his tea.

“Oh, no. No. We were just bored.”

Jimin takes a seat, right besides Jeongguk. He avoids looking up, can feel the burn of the younger man’s gaze fixing on him. He refuses to look at him and give away his own fragile state, doesn’t want someone else worrying about him when he doesn’t need the concern. He drums his fingers over the kitchen worktop, nodding.

“Cool. So was I, so here I am.”

Taehyung raises a brow at him questioningly because apparently, he really isn’t good at hiding how he really feels. Regardless, Taehyung doesn’t comment and he walks towards the cupboard.

“Would you also like some tea?”

“Yes, please. Peppermint like yours will be fine.”

Taehyung nods as he turns his back on them, picking out the teabags and putting the kettle on. With his back turned, Jeongguk finally reaches out and grabs ahold of his hand. The touch is fleeting, lasts a total of two seconds but there’s a squeeze.

“You okay?” Jeongguk whispers to him under his breath.

Jimin shrugs as he backs out of the hold, withdrawing his hand. He finally looks up to face Jeongguk and sighs, shrugging.

“I’m fine.”

It doesn’t sound convincing, not in the slightest, and Jeongguk doesn’t seem pacified. But he doesn’t push the subject, returning his attention to his half empty cup of tea, sipping patiently.

“Here you go.” Taehyung comes back around to hand over the mug, sitting down across from them. “How’s your art work going, then? I know you’ve been really busy doing your assignments.”

“Thank you,” Jimin mumbles under his breath as he grabs the peppermint tea, blowing on the steam and gingerly taking a sip. “Bad.”

“Bad? I doubt it.”

“I’m just not passionate about what I’m drawing, I guess.”

Taehyung gives him a sympathetic smile, nodding.

“That’s understandable but you’ve said that before and still, whatever you’ve produced, was a masterpiece. We’re all critical of ourselves.”

Jimin appreciates his words. They resonate deep within him, the fact that Taehyung even bothers to talk to him in such a soothing tone. But he can’t accept them. Right now, his roommates are considering the option of selling something of their own only to join up enough money to pay the rent only because he’s unable to help.

He lifts his cup again to drink the warm liquid and his hand shakes as he does, rattling the china piece. He curses under his breath, lowering the cup.

Both Jeongguk and Taehyung are looking at him intently, eyes wide. He’s made it pathetically obvious that he’s, in fact, not okay. He hates the glances he’s getting from both of them and stubbornly refuses to acknowledge them.

“Well…” Taehyung continues when no one replies, smiling waveringly. “What’s your plans for the day?”

Jimin shrugs. “Not much, you guys?”

“Not much, either,” Taehyung agrees easily. “We’re waiting for hyung to wake up so we can try and get him to walk around some more.”

Jimin nods as he takes another sip. It’s been nearly a whole week and some since Yoongi’s attack and he has to get worst before he can get better. The most excruciating part is over, at the very least.

His broken nose has been healing swimmingly, his ribs are still torn on all parts and he struggles to breathe properly at times. His ankle is still wrapped up carefully in a cast Taehyung had purchased, prolonging the process but ensuring it remains healed once the time is up. Yoongi, all in all, has been at his weakest and lowest and the tension between all of them has been high.

Jimin knows, and can recognise, with each passing day Jeongguk is becoming more and more desperate.

Jeongguk wants bloodshed. He wants revenge in the sweetest form and he’s waiting for the day. He’s growing antsy by not doing anything for so long. Jimin notices it all too well.

“Sounds like a good idea.” Jimin hums in agreement.

They sit in silence. Apparently, neither of them have any words to supply in the conversation. Jimin doesn’t speak, either. He traces the rim of his cup and as much as he tries to will his thoughts away, all he can really think about is Hoseok and the sounds of his crying.

He had fled the scene. Pathetic and cowardly.

There’s stirring in Taehyung’s bedroom, behind the slightly ajar door. A weak voice recognisable as Yoongi’s calls out Taehyung’s name.

“That’s my cue. I’ll be right back.” He smiles at both of them before he drains his tea in the sink and walks over to his room, shutting the door behind them and leaving both Jimin and Jeongguk alone in the living room.

Jeongguk waits a beat before he speaks. He licks his lip before he slowly gets up from where he sits, smoothing out the hoodie that he wears. He turns towards Jimin, grabbing his cigarette carton.

“Want to share one?” He suggests. “The weather outside is nice.”

The weather outside is anything but nice. It had been raining and though that has passed, it’s been replaced with a murky, dark mood that Jimin usually doesn’t like to immerse himself within but Jeongguk’s looking at him with a considerate, soft eyes. At the very least, he’s not jumping on Jimin’s bone for his absence of personality.

“Sure.” He finds himself agreeing.

Jeongguk reaches over for the throw on that’s on the sofa, throwing it in his direction.

“Wrap up warm. It’s cold outside.”

Jimin catches the small blanket, the perfect length to wrap himself around in and he tries to conceal his smile that threatens to take over his face. He wraps it around from his shoulder, snuggling into the warmth as they walk out of the apartment and down the stairs.

(Mood: Coldplay - X & Y )

Despite the fact that the wall is wet, Jeongguk takes a seat and he pulls out a cigarette. He cups his mouth as he lights it up, taking a long drag before handing it over to Jimin. He accepts, holding the blanket together by his neck with his hand as he smokes with the other.

Jeongguk’s not doing anything—not really—but this feels relaxing. Just being in the younger man’s presence and having his indirect attention is enough for the knots on Jimin’s shoulder to feel loosen, for his mind to slowly unwind down. He exhales sharply as he feels the first wave of anxiety roll off his chest, making him feel lighter as he takes another drag. He closes his eyes. This is serenity.

“You feeling any better?” Jeongguk’s breaking the absence of sound between them.

Jimin raises his head, looking over to him.

“How did you know I’m feeling anything less than good?”

“Doesn’t take a genius.”

“You don’t know me well enough to know what I’m like when I’m not feeling good.”

Jeongguk pauses at his words and he smokes before he responds, offering a helpless shrug.

“Perhaps, you’re right but I’ve spent enough time around you. When you’re feeling good, you make it clear. You were quiet just now. That’s not normal to me.”

“Well, then,” Jimin drawls the words. He’s not sure why he’s acting difficult right now, not accepting the concern that’s being readily thrown his way by Jeongguk. Instead, he’s challenging it. “Why haven’t you asked me what’s wrong?”

There’s a long pause. Jeongguk turns to face him, twisting his torso for better access. His eyes are alight with his emotions, wearing them on his sleeves and exposing himself to Jimin. Somewhere along the lines, he had become comfortable enough to do that. Does he trust Jimin? Does he feel comfortable around Jimin?

Jeongguk’s eyes glisten under the gloomy weather. There’s something deeper behind his orbs, staring intently into him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He finally asks.

Jimin squares his jaw, looking away and breaking their eye contact before it eats him whole.

“No.”

“Why’re you complaining, then?”

He sighs at those words, throwing his head back and taking a moment to collect himself. Jeongguk’s question is firm but there’s hints of curiosity behind them, like he doesn’t understand what’s going on. Jimin doesn’t, either. He knows Jeongguk, in the only way he knows how, is trying to offer support.

There’s no pushing and forcing from him, there’s no insistency. He’s allowing Jimin to take a break outside in the open with tobacco. He’s giving Jimin the space, but also the comfort of his presence, to adjust to what he’s dealing with.

Jimin admires that. It makes his heart feel full.

“I’m sorry,” he finally mumbles, embarrassed with his own behaviour. He rubs his eyes tiredly. “I’m just really fucking exhausted.”

“I understand.” Jeongguk replies.

Jeongguk does understand, in his own sense. He doesn’t understand what it’s like to not being able to put money on the table for his friends, for being trapped in every sense, to feel suffocated, helpless, bound. He doesn’t understand what it’s like to be literally owned by someone else.

Jimin offers a shrug as he reaches out for the cigarette from Jeongguk but Jeongguk grabs his hand, instead.

“You know you can talk to Taehyung… or well, me, if you ever need to?” He asks seriously, arching a brow.

Jimin doesn’t try to break free of the hold. It placates him and he finds himself easing under his hand.

“I know.”

“Okay, good.” Jeongguk releases him and hands over the cigarette, a small smile easing onto his lip. It seems sincere. “I just wanted you to know that.”

“I appreciate it.”

They sit side-by-side and they don’t have any other words to supply in the conversation. They lazily past the butt between them, taking long drags each and blowing the smoke upwards towards the cold air. Jimin watches it disperse with each exhale, focusing on the streams of smoke that helps him loosen up further.

He’ll never admit it but Jeongguk’s presence right here means a lot.

He doesn’t feel forced to put on a brave face nor does he feel forced to act a certain way, to appease the other man. He’s free to act the way he feels. He feels annoyed with himself, he feels worthless and he’s being allowed the chance to deal with that accordingly.

Jimin knows it’s because Jeongguk has his own demons. There’s obviously a big reason that makes Jeongguk act the way he is: aggressive at times, guarded and not warming to any other human being unless they’re in his intermediate circle. There’s something that eats Jeongguk alive, keeps him at nights, keeps him going back to an illegal organisation where he blows off steam through fighting.

Jeongguk understands because he, somehow, can relate.

Another few moments pass before finally Jeongguk is sighing, standing up and stretching out his limbs.

“We should go back up. I have to talk to Yoongi hyung.”

“Okay.” Jimin nods as he puts out the cigarette, crushing it with the heel of his shoe before following Jeongguk back up.

Just before Jeongguk can open the door, Jimin gently pushes him against the wall. He crowds Jeongguk’s personal space, stepping right up to him and the proximity makes Jimin feel a little dizzy. He’ll never get used to the heat Jeongguk radiates.

Jeongguk’s eyes widen as he stares down at Jimin, raising a brow in question.

Jimin leans right in so he can almost bury his head in Jeongguk’s neck, waiting a moment before he mutters the words against his skin.

“Thank you.”

A beat passes before Jeongguk’s hand reaches down, carding through his hair and pulling his head back slightly. They make eye contact and Jeongguk looks almost confused, features scrunched together.

“For what?”

“I know you don’t realise but you make me feel good, without pushing too hard and never, ever making me uncomfortable. That, just now, made me feel better. Thank you.”

Jeongguk stills and he seems to be allow the words process within him. The right side of his mouth tugs upwards in the slightest motion.

“It’s the least I can do.”

He tries to back out of the hold but Jimin pins him on the wall, not allowing him to move. He closes his eyes and leans in, kissing Jeongguk. It’s intimate and it’s slow, there’s no rush and there’s no ulterior motive behind the affection. A slight whimper is released from Jeongguk’s mouth before he kisses back, barely extending beyond a peck.

Jeongguk’s smiling clearly now when he withdraws himself, ducking his head as if to hide the fact. He unlocks the door finally and lets them through.

Taehyung and Yoongi are standing in the middle of the living when they emerge.

Yoongi’s holding onto some crutches, supporting most of his weight on them as Taehyung holds him up from the other end. His features are rumpled together from the effort, sweat beads pouring down his face in the agony he feels. But he’s trying, that much is clear.

Jeongguk’s smile instinctively grows and that makes Jimin’s stomach flutter.

“Hyung!” He announces his arrival, walking over to Yoongi. “You’re doing so well. C’mon, walk to the kitchen today.”

Taehyung hums in approval to the suggestion, tightening his hold over the older man just slightly.

“Guk is right. You can do it, we believe in you.”

Jimin admires the scene before him from afar. He watches Yoongi struggle some more, groaning under his breath and cursing Jeongguk for suggesting a longer trip than necessary. Jeongguk waits on the other side, by the kitchen, with a blunt in his hand for his reward if he can make it—positive reinforcement at it’s finest.

Taehyung walks with him patiently, never increasing the pace and not decreasing unless Yoongi explicitly states it. He keeps mumbling words of encouragement and Jimin feels like he’s intruding in on a really intimate moment, like he doesn’t belong a part of them. They all happy together.

But Jeongguk’s eye level wanders away for just a second, up to Jimin and he offers a dazzling smile.

Jimin flushes, the redness creeping up the nape of his neck and he conceals his own beaming smile in the crook of his elbow.

Yoongi manages to make the walk to the kitchen and he’s falling into Jeongguk’s arms. Jimin has never seen them embrace before and the sight makes his chest swell with a feeling he can’t place a name on. Jeongguk’s arms tighten around Yoongi and hold him close as he nuzzles his head into Yoongi’s side.

“You fucking did it.” Jeongguk’s mumbling into his hair and Jimin can barely hear it, but it’s there.

When Jimin looks up to Taehyung, he’s staring at Jimin. He nods at Jimin and Jimin feels alive.

An hour later, Jimin’s still at the apartment.

He and Taehyung are preparing dinner together. Jimin cuts up the vegetables as prompted to do so, into small pieces and handing them over to Taehyung who cooks them on the skillet with the other ingredients within arm’s reach.

Jeongguk’s taking the backseat, admitting he’s bad at anything when it comes to the kitchen and rather, messes around with the music. He keeps drifting through different playlists, a mix of Korean and English songs keeping them busy as they work. Every now and then, Taehyung will pause to sing along, swaying his hips in time to the lyrics and Jimin and Jeongguk will both explode into fits of laughter.

It feels like somewhere Jimin belongs, with the two of them.

“What should I do next?” Jimin asks once the peppers have been chopped up, lowering the knife.

Taehyung turns to him. “Perhaps, start on the dessert? Everything’s right there, just have to mix it together.”

“What’s for dessert?” Jeongguk pipes up from the back.

“A cake.”

Jimin laughs as he walks over to the ingredients set aside, already measured out. All that requires is his attention as he uses the electric whisk to bind the butter and sugar together, adding the dry ingredients next. Once it’s all combined, Taehyung helps him pour the mixture into a pan and they put it into the oven.

“Why don’t you teach me how to cook?” Jeongguk pouts where he sits, eyes still trained on his laptop where he’s changing the songs readily. “I look like a pretty useless roommate, just sitting here.”

Taehyung shrugs. “You are a useless roommate.”

“Hey!” He laughs in response, grabbing the tissue box and hurling it in Taehyung’s direction. “Fuck you! I’m great!”

“You just said it yourself!” Taehyung retorts, narrowly avoiding the flying object.

“I said I look, not that I am!”

They both start to laugh as they throw objects towards each other, Jimin having to carefully step out of way before it hits him in the process. Jeongguk giggles out an apology before he returns his attention towards the laptop before him, changing the songs once again.

Dinner is served and Yoongi comes back out from the bedroom to eat, Taehyung helping him into his seat. They all sit in silence as they eat, Jeongguk and Jimin sitting opposite each other and every few seconds, their eyes will meet.

Finally, Yoongi clears his throat from where he sits at the foot of the table.

“I have some news.”

All of them perk up immediately. Jeongguk lowers his utensils, raising a brow.

“News? What news?”

“I just had the chance to talk to Seokjin.”

They all freeze up. That only means one thing: more information about the upcoming war that sits heavy in the room at any given time. Even if they don't speak about it, the topic lurks around them.

Jeongguk seems more engrossed now, turning his direct attention to the man.

“What did hyung say?”

Yoongi pauses as he uses his napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth, smiling bitterly. The hints of resentment is clear on his face.

“We have Jan’s location for tonight. He’s going to be alone.”

The mere sentence makes Jimin halt where he's eating, dread running cold into his veins. If they have a location for the man, and he's going to be alone, it can only possibly mean one thing.

Jeongguk looks concentrated now, furrowing his brow as his dinner is all but forgotten.

“Where?”

“Gangnam district, he's attending a bar to meet someone but planning to leave alone.”

Jimin’s lips curl downwards. It's unnerving how they know that type of information about someone else. Being powerful, sometimes, can be dangerous and he wonders how Seokjin has figured it out. Yoongi’s looking at Jeongguk with purpose.

Jeongguk curses under his breath.

“Are we going to go?”

Yoongi settles back on his chair, running a hand through his blonde hair.

“We are. You're going to approach him, confront him—no fists whatsoever—like we agreed upon. We've left a good time gap between my attack, Jan will be caught off guard and he’ll take heed to your words.”

Jimin knows that they're experienced, they've probably done something as simple as approaching someone countless times. But he still feels worried. He hates how terrifying the entire ordeal is, especially when he knows the extent of damage Jan really can cause if recovering Yoongi is any indicator.

But Jeongguk doesn't seem the slightest bit worried.

He has a firm smile on his lips, certainty washing over his features. He looks sure of himself.

“That sounds perfect. When shall we leave.”

“After dinner,” Yoongi says coolly. “First, we eat. We plan. We leave and we make this work. You don't dare touch him, the knife is the only thing that'll slightly touch his skin. We have power with our words and we use it to our fucking advantage, d’you understand, Jeongguk?”

Yoongi talks down upon Jeongguk like he's scolding a toddler and the younger man does nothing but takes it. He doesn't argue back, only nodding as he ducks his head.

It's mesmerising to watch the control Yoongi has over him, how Jeongguk respects the older man to no end. Jeongguk, who usually has no regards to elders, loves Yoongi and appreciates his input so dearly. It makes Jimin feel fond.

“You sure you'll be able to resist the urge to hit him?” Taehyung mumbles a few minutes later. “Maybe I should do it. There's no fight involved, all I'll have to do is—”

“You clearly don't know me well enough if you think I'm going to let you near Jan, at all,” Jeongguk cuts off him effectively. “I'm a big boy, I can handle throwing fists.”

Taehyung snorts. “I somehow strongly doubt that.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, shaking his head.

“I trust Jeongguk. He’ll be able to pull through, he knows what's at stake otherwise, don't you?”

Jeongguk clenches his jaw but doesn't argue otherwise, nodding as he stirs the rice around on his plate with displeasure. It's clear he wants the situation to go down another route, to get dirty, but he's resisting for Yoongi.

“Of course, hyung.”

Jimin bites his lip to resist the smile threatening to take over, diverting his gaze downwards. He waits for a few seconds before he speaks up.

“I want to come.”

The three of them grow quiet where they sit. He can faintly feel the brunt of Jeongguk’s steely eyes staring into him. Neither of them speak before Yoongi sighs.

“Jimin-ah, I don’t think that’s the wisest idea.”

“Why not?”

“You know you’re already on Jan’s radar, he sees you as a weakness and he knows you’re Jeongguk’s weakness, too. It’ll only cause a problem if he realises you’re there.”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk’s interrupting. “No fucking way—”

“I won’t go near the scene,” Jimin cuts them all off, shaking his head. He knows he’ll only feel on edge if he sits at the apartment, waiting for news. He’d rather be there. “I won’t go anywhere near Jan. I just, I need to be there.”

“Jimin—”

“Jeongguk, stop.” Jimin shakes his head. “I need to.”

Jeongguk releases a groan deep from his throat.

“Fine, it’s your funeral.”

Taehyung tuts at those words, seemingly kicking Jeongguk under the table because he winces and curses under his breath. Taehyung has a reassuring smile fixed across his face, looking over to Jimin.

“It’s not entirely safe, Jiminie. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” He answers without hesitation.

Taehyung nods and his eyes drift to Yoongi, offering a shrug.

“It’s what he wants.”

Jeongguk sits in the back seat of Taehyung’s Audi as they drive to the location in Gangnam, a little out of the way hence the long drive. Yoongi sits in the passenger seat, uncomfortably so due to his injuries, as he stares intently out of the window. The atmosphere in the car is uncomfortable and tense. Everyone is clearly on edge.

Jeongguk can’t take the silence. He can’t take Taehyung’s hard gaze, keeping his eyes out of the window and nowhere else. He can’t take Yoongi’s quietness. He can’t take the fact that Jimin is here.

As much as he wants to protect Jimin, it seems like he keeps failing at the task.

He can’t guarantee anyone’s safety right now. He can’t guarantee he won’t see Jan and lose his temper, the one he’s been holding carefully together. It’s mostly due to Jimin that he hasn’t exploded already. Under any other circumstance, he would’ve hurt Jan within an inch of his life already.

But Jimin’s insistent, steady presence in his life that treats him nothing but good has been keeping him on the right path.

Taehyung parks up a block away, giving them a fairly good view of the alleyway Jan is scheduled to walk down as he descends from the bar towards the car. He cuts off the engine and they sit in silence, the radio providing background noise.

Yoongi, finally, twists his torso to face Jeongguk from the front.

He fiddles with his pocket and withdraws a knife. It’s a folding lock-back knife, the strongest and most capable of causing damage. He fiddles with it, drawing back the blade to gently run a finger across. The gentlest of touch makes Yoongi’s thumb bleed and he sucks it in his mouth, eyes glaring into Jeongguk.

The intensity behind Yoongi’s orbs means nothing but business.

“Here.” Yoongi hands over the pocket knife. He takes it immediately, slipping it into his hoodie. “You know what to do?”

Jeongguk nods devotedly, swallowing around the lump in his throat. He’s not scared. If anything, he feels electrified. He feels ready. This day is a long time coming. Before he can speak, he feels a hold over his hand and when looks over, Jimin has discretely slipped his hand into Jeongguk’s. Jimin’s not looking at him, glancing out of the window but they’re holding hands and Jeongguk feels warm all over.

He looks back at Yoongi.

“Yeah. Approach Jan, talk to him, put the knife against his throat and try not to let him bleed as I threaten his brother: Wadae and then leave before any violence can take place.”

Yoongi nods curtly. “Good. Go.”

Jeongguk nods back at him. He pulls the hood over his head, concealing his face as he pulls the mask over his face. Dressed all in black and most of him hidden, Jeongguk knows he looks intimidating and it gives him the boost he needs to make a move to climb out of the car.

Before he can, the hold over his hand increases. He glances to a concerned looking Jimin who’s biting his lips, eyes swimming with emotion. He looks ethereal like this, all drawn up and beautifully holding himself together.

“Stay safe?” He whispers the question.

Jeongguk’s heart grows as he nods, squeezing their hands and withdrawing the touch altogether. He opens the car door, fisting his hands in his pockets.

“Always.”

Jeongguk can’t focus on Jimin right now. He has a task to do and he has to follow through it appropriately, has to conquer otherwise it’ll only mean disaster for everyone involved. It’ll mean Yoongi will give him his disappointed, but not surprised, look and that’s the one look he can’t stand to be on the receiving end of.

Upon leaving the car and walking towards the alleyway, he notices Jan walking towards his direction. Perfect timing.

“Yah!” Jeongguk calls out informally, tightening his fist over the knife in his pocket. It feels heavy and he hopes it isn’t obvious he’s carrying a weapon. “Jan.”

Jan’s head raises and their eyes meet for the first time since the eventful night outside the warehouse, when he had managed to leave with a bust lip. Jan’s eyes widen upon recognition, caught off guard for the slightest second before he eases up. His posture relaxes, slouching as if he has nothing to worry about.

It irks Jeongguk more than it should as he tightens his eyes, clenches his jaw.

“Jeon Jeongguk?” Jan says with a slight disbelief note in his voice, arching a brow. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Oh, yeah? Unfortunate. You thought wrong.”

“After how badly I fucked up Yoongi, you’d think you’d know better.”

Jeongguk controls the first urge to strike as the anger rolls through him slowly, dripping down his spine. Jan’s trying to provoke him and that’s expected. He needs to control himself and pace his fury, before he acts out. The mere reminder of Yoongi sets Jeongguk straight. He’s here to do this properly, to prevent more people getting hurt.

“After how many times I fucked you and your friends up, you think you’d know what I’m like better.” He sneers.

Jan laughs at that. He takes a step towards him, not seeming to be affected by Jeongguk’s presence at all. It’s not surprising, either. Jan is bigger built, he has more power in his fists than any other man could. He has a larger frame and muscles that he works tirelessly for, pumping drugs into his system.

Jeongguk’s not as experienced as him, doesn’t have the killer body like he does but he still doesn’t feel an ounce of fear. He squares up, raising his chin when Jan steps into his personal space.

They both look at each other intently. There’s danger behind Jan’s eyes, darkening as he reaches out to grab ahold of Jeongguk’s throat. He backs Jeongguk into the wall, tightening and effectively choking him. It only lasts a few seconds before Jeongguk is reaching up, grabbing his forearm and pushing him off.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Jeongguk warns.

Jan laughs, holding his hands up in surrender as he takes a step back. It’s all a mockery to him.

“I just wanted to show you how small you are compared to me, Jeon. You think you got the whole world figured out?”

Jeongguk can’t help but laugh.

“I don’t remember you saying the same words when I was breaking each and every one of your ribs, Jan.”

Jan’s composure cracks just the slightest, hints of residual anger shining through. Of course, it’s a touchy subject and Jeongguk uses it to his advantage. He wants to poke on it, wants to make Jan feel the ounce of the pain he’s been going through seeing Yoongi decreased to the state that he’s currently in.

“I’ll fucking end you.”

Jan’s stepping forward to hurt him for real this time but Jeongguk’s quicker. He withdraws his knife, pressing down on the release button to expose the shining, terrorising blade. He reaches over to twist Jan’s collar in his hand, holding onto him tightly as he twists them around so the older man is backed into the wall instead.

Jeongguk holds the blade up to his throat, applying the lightest amount of pressure. Enough for Jan to feel, not enough to make him shed.

“What the—”

“Shh. Shh, shut up,” Jeongguk’s shaking his head. His tone has slipped into a faux playful one, enjoying the upperhand he has over the current situation. “See, here’s the thing you’re not going to do: talk. You’re going to shut that fucking mouth and you’re going to listen to me talk, d’you understand me?” When Jan doesn’t respond, Jeongguk presses the knife down harder. “I said, do you fucking understand me?” He all but spits.

Jan looks like he wants to protest, wants to yell out and bring attention towards them. But his eyes linger down to the knife pressing up close to his windpipe and he clamps his mouth shut.

“That’s a good boy,” Jeongguk coos, tilts his head to the side. He analyses Jan all over, scanning his eyes all over. “See how nice it is when you don’t speak? Helps my fucking headache, man.”

Jan rolls his eyes and in a threatening manner, Jeongguk presses down harder

“You’ve been a real nuisance to me, Jan.” Jeongguk sighs, shaking his head. “Hurting Jimin, hurting me, hurting Yoongi. You’re nothing but a nuisance, a waste of space. Did you know that?” Jan doesn’t speak and he didn’t expect a reply, presses on ruthlessly. “It’s getting boring now, especially to me, y’know? You think you can defeat me. I’ve been boxing since I was fifteen-years old when you were still mummy’s boy and had no idea what this world means. I may not have the same experience but I’ve been matured at a much younger age and you should never ever fucking underestimate me.”

Jan doesn’t react. His facial muscles remain stoic, not shifting an inch. Jeongguk wants to press down hard enough that blood flows, it’ll only then satisfy him. But he knows he’s trying to avoid that as much as possible so he keeps his impulse carefully concealed.

“You think you’re the shit—”

“Because, I am. I am the shit, Jan.”

“You’re a child—”

“I came here to say one thing,” Jeongguk’s cutting him off, not wanting to hear him talk anymore. His voice irritates him, makes his skin crawl with the utmost distaste. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “I’m going to say that one thing and then you’re going to walk away in that direction.” Jeongguk nods in the opposite direction to where their car is parked. “And I’m going to go in that direction and we’re never going to interact again. We’re never going to have a problem again.”

Jan sets his jaw, eyes fluttering shut as he waits for Jeongguk to continue. He feels high off the capability he has over Jan right now, under the palm of his hand. He can manipulate the older man anyway he wants, only because he has a weapon that can end his life within seconds.

“This war is really fucking stupid, yeah? You know I can take you on, and every single one of your friends. How’s Kyu doing, huh? After our fight? He screamed for mercy, begged for me to stop in the ring, do you remember that?” Jeongguk raises a brow at him, smirking. “I’ll make you beg for me too, Jan.”

“You wish—”

“Nah uh.” He shakes his head. “Remember your position right now. Look at my knife.”

Jan’s snarling, his features contorted to the utmost displease. Hatred fills his pupils and he seems urged to back out of the hold but Jeongguk has a tight hold over him, not allowing him to even squirm.

“Like I said, this war is stupid. You hurt Yoongi and I should fucking kill you, just for that but guess what? I’m gonna be lenient. I’m going to let you walk away from here, in that direction, without harming you. You stay away from me, my people and we’ll never have this issue again.”

Jan lets out a hearty laugh at that, throwing his head back against the wall in disbelief. His Adam’s apple moves under the blade, swallowing.

“You really—”

“If not,” Jeongguk presses on. “Don’t think I don’t know about Wadae.” He sees the moment Jan’s composure really does slip, the first hint of fear coming through at the mention of his brother. “You wouldn’t want anything to happen to him, would you?”

Jan’s struggling now. He’s trying to back out of Jeongguk, fists drawn and ready to attack but the younger man keeps him pressed against the wall. He knows he shouldn’t but he has to, he has to get Jan to calm down someway. He has to press the knife down and watch the first drop of blood slither out, down onto his own hand.

Jan stills immediately but his eyes remain ablaze.

Jeongguk swallows the discomfort of threatening someone else’s family member, even if the man is Jan. Family is a touchy subject and he’s only mentioning it because Yoongi insists it’s the only method they’ll survive, otherwise. They’ll keep coming at them hard if something really important isn’t used against them.

A moment passes before Jan starts laughing.

“Jeongguk… you’re really clueless, huh?” Jan’s saying. “Threatening my brother? That’s really rich. What if…” he pauses, tilting his head and smirking with his teeth on show. “What if I told you I know about Sunhye, hm? Your dearest sister?”

Everything stops.

Jeongguk’s anger evaporates within seconds, replacing with a state of unknown. He’s not sure how to address this feeling. It takes over and every bone is replaced with the overwhelming need to protect Sunhye, even if he has no idea where she is, how Jan knows about her.

Does that mean she’s alive? Is she alive?

The last time he had seen Sunhye, she was only thirteen. Young, vulnerable and broken. Jeongguk had broken every promise to his younger sister. Even after watching his mother die, he hadn’t been able to step up and take care of Sunhye. He had fled. The mere mention of Sunhye makes his blood run cold and once again, the outrage pours back into him more intense than before.

“How the fuck do you know her name?” Jeongguk breathes out, so angered that he can’t raise his voice.

His vision blurs with red, not being able to see beyond the rage that consumes him whole and eats away at his organs. Jan seems pleased to be in control again, grinning at the turn of events.

“You didn’t even know she was alive, did you?”

“You fucking bastard!” Jeongguk’s screaming so loud that he’s sure everyone in the car can hear him, eyes filling instantly with tears. Not because he’s upset, because he’s so riled up, maddened with his burning desire to just kill Jan right here, right now—that he can’t help but cry. “Fucking tell me! I’ll fucking kill you!”

Jan keeps laughing, seemingly delighted by his reaction. The logical side of Jeongguk knows that Jan has probably done his research, probably has no idea where Sunhye is but his blood buzzes within him and he can't focus on anything.

He can't focus on anything but the night he had said goodbye to Sunhye. Fifteen-years old, his entire life packed into one backpack that was still mostly empty. He had slipped into her bedroom and she had been asleep, though only an hour ago their father had taken her into his room. Their mother had passed a day earlier. Jeongguk had leaned down, kissed her forehead and apologised before leaving and never looking back.

A part of him had realised, and mostly accepted, that the likely chance that Sunhye is alive was slim to none.

“Hit me, Jeongguk.” Jan whispers to him. “Hit me so I can end you, once and for all.”

Jeongguk’s ready. He doesn't care about consequences anymore, all but gone right out of his mind as he draws the knife back. He's about to hurt him, for real, before there's a shout of his name repeatedly being called to him.

When Jeongguk looks up, it's Jimin running towards him.

“Jeongguk! Jeongguk! Stop!” Jimin's repeating over and over, coming to a stop before him. His eyes shine with tears, too and steadily pours down his cheeks. “Please, stop. What did Yoongi say? Stop, stop.”

Jeongguk stares in shock at Jimin’s presence before him. Another wave of anger crosses him. He had wanted to protect Jimin and now, he managed to put his own life in jeopardy but also Jimin’s.

Jan looks even more pleased, now. His eyes filter over to Jimin, smirk growing.

“Well, would you look at who it is?”

Jimin visibly shudders at the words but he doesn't back down, reaching out to gently grasp Jeongguk’s forearm. He avoids looking towards Jan’s direction entirely, focusing in on Jeongguk.

He whispers. “Don't do it. Don't do it, baby.”

Jeongguk closes his eyes, conflicted. He could end Jan’s life, if he was prompted hard enough. Sunhye’s name is enough to do it for him, for the final button within him to be pressed and prodded with. Jeongguk’s been torturing himself over his sister for four entire years and here Jan is, throwing the name around like casual.

Jimin’s lowering the arm, shaking his head.

“You're better than this, Guk. Don't.”

Jeongguk isn't better than this. When will Jimin stop seeing false hope in him, stop drawing out emotions that makes Jeongguk feel like he's half normal? When will Jimin stop saying thanks to him, stop giving him an idle compliment that means more than Jeongguk will ever be able to comprehend?

It's not fair.

“Let's go back to the car,” Jimin guides, holding the forearm close to his chest and tugging Jeongguk along with him. “C’mon.”

“But—”

“No but’s. Please.”

Jan scoffs from where he stands, not moving. His chest is still heaving and it's the only one sign that proves that he, too, had been fearful even if it had lasted a grand total of a few seconds.

“Listen to your lover boy, Jeongguk. Walk away, you'll never win.”

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut at the provocation technique. Jimin doesn't let his thoughts linger anywhere, bringing him right back down to earth when he feels Jimin guiding them back to the car and out of sight.

Jeongguk doesn't spare a glance backwards, not stopping to wonder where Jan’s going.

He blew it. He heard Sunhye’s name being mentioned and he blew it. He ruined it.

Jimin is patient with him and he has strength in his hold as he steers Jeongguk back to the car quietly, opening the door and ushering him in. Yoongi’s silent anger can be detected quite obviously from where he sits and it's Taehyung who breaks the tension first.

“Is he gone?”

He directs the question at Jimin who shrugs helplessly, looking up out of the window.

“He's gone the other direction, yeah. Let's get out of here real quick before he comes back with more people, or something.”

Taehyung seems to be in agreement because he doesn't waste a single second, starting up the engine and driving out of the area. No one talks. Jeongguk seethes from where he sits, still consumed by rage and he can't help the tears that flow down his cheeks readily.

Jimin seems out of his wits trying to help, holding Jeongguk’s hand but it does nothing to pacify him.

All he can see, feel is the intense, life burdening guilt that he had felt the same day he had left Sunhye behind. It's cruel to accept your fate with a situation only for it to be thrown back in your face, blinding you completely.

Jeongguk’s so angered. He wants to cause destruction, he wants to lose control.

Taehyung notices his feral state because he's cursing under his breath as he picks up the speed, shooting him a look in the rear view mirror.

“What did he say, Guk? What has you gotten so worked up?” He requests to know, voice almost whiny at the end of his sentence.

Jeongguk swallows audibly and he resists the urge to punch the car window, knowing he’ll only cause a dent in the glass. He sits as pliant as possibly, willing himself not to act out.

Jimin edges towards him.

“Do you want to come back to mine instead?” He's suggesting hesitatingly. “You don't have to but it might help, yeah?”

Jeongguk closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, finally nodding at that. He'd appreciate being somewhere with Jimin where Yoongi can't frown down upon him and his inability to hold himself together, where neither he or Taehyung can lecture him for spoiling the act they had so carefully planned. Jeongguk will feel the remorse for that fact tomorrow. Tonight, he’ll mourn for his sister.

Taehyung changes the direction of the journey so he's driving back to Jimin’s apartment instead, cutting off the engine outside the apartment when they arrive.

“Are you sure you'll be able with Jeongguk?” Taehyung asks cautiously.

Jimin only nods reassuringly. There seems to be nothing but faith, in Jeongguk, written over his features as he unlocks the car door and using the hand over Jeongguk, tugs him. Jeongguk follows blindly, out and into the building.

Jimin doesn't say anything but he keeps within close proximity, never drifting too far.

Jimin seems to hesitant when he comes to a halt outside his door.

Jeongguk almost wants to ask if he's okay but instead, he diverts his attention towards the floor and waits. Jimin takes a few seconds before he exhales, turning the key in the lock and letting them through.

The apartment is completely quiet. The lights are switched off and the curtains are drawn. There's a note stuck on the fridge that Jimin walks towards, doesn't even bother reading it as he throws into the bin.

“My room?” Jimin suggests.

Jeongguk nods mutely and he follows into the bedroom after him, glancing downwards as Jimin closes the door behind him. He turns to face Jeongguk, a sad smile tugging at his lips that seems half-hearted, barely there. He sighs, walking towards Jeongguk.

“Want to talk about it?”

Jeongguk shakes his head and now that he’s alone, he can feel the outrage even more so. Now that he has no judgemental eyes fixating on him, he can dwell deeper on how he feels. Sunhye. It’s the only thing that crosses his mind and before he realises what he’s doing, he’s letting out a guttural scream and he punches the closest thing to him. Jimin’s dressing table.

The heavy oak table shakes from the force but nothing impactful happens.

Jeongguk keeps punching the table, though. He needs to release the pent up frustration, the feeling that consumed him whole since he was only fifteen-years old. It all boils down to this moment.

Jimin jumps, startled from where he stands and for a moment, it seems that he’s too afraid to make a move. His eyes widen and he’s telling Jeongguk to stop but Jeongguk can’t address the words. He keeps punching until his knuckles split and he feels the heavy flow of blood running down his hand.

“Fuck!” Jeongguk wails, observing the damage of his hand.

Overcome with exhaustion, anguish so deep it scars him, he falls as his knees buckle and he can’t support his own weight anymore.

Jimin seems to snap out of his trance at that very second, moving forward to catch Jeongguk before he crashes to the floor. His eyes seem wild, frantically darting between the knuckles that seep of the warm, crimson colour and to Jeongguk’s face.

“Babe…” He says so patiently, so tenderly that Jeongguk can’t help the sob that overcomes him.

He cries. He cries like the night he had packed his bags and left, closing the first chapter of his life and never turning back. He remembers sitting at the bus stop, curling into himself and crying like the whole world had ended and he was never going to find himself. He cries like he’s the same lost boy that same night.

Jimin settles on the floor, crossing his legs and pulling Jeongguk into his lap.

Jeongguk doesn’t deserve the affection he’s getting readily from Jimin. He had just trashed his room, practically, and dented his dressing table. His knuckles are bleeding and the blood is staining right down his wrist. He’s a wreck and yet, Jimin’s pulling him closer.

“You’re okay. I got you.”

Jeongguk shakes his head furiously.

“No, no. I don’t deserve—”

“Guk,” Jimin sighs, exasperation leaking in his tone. “Please stop fighting me. I’m here, because I want to be.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“Well, that’s just too bad.” Jimin rolls his eyes and he tightens his arms around Jeongguk’s waist instinctively, burying his head in his neck. He inhales deeply. “It’s too bad that you’ve tried to push me away so much and I’m still here, so you should try and get used to it instead.”

Jeongguk keeps shaking his head. He refuses to accept the words, he refuses to accept the sentiment that Jimin seems to keep pouring out with. Jimin’s heart is so good, so open and so accepting. Despite not knowing Jeongguk all that well, he’s still attentive to his every need and seems to know exactly what helps.

Jimin sighs, again, when there’s no answer.

Instead, he picks up Jeongguk’s knuckles and observes the broken skin.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have a first aid kit at home,” Jimin mumbles.

“S’fine,” Jeongguk stutters through his cries, teeth clattering against each other.

“What did Jan say?” He starts to prompt again. “What worked you up so hard?”

Jeongguk shakes his head almost immediately, pulling his hand away and covering it with his other.

“You won’t understand.”

Jimin shrugs helplessly. “Yeah, probably not but it doesn’t mean I can’t listen. Maybe, it’ll help some of your anger, hm?”

“I said, you won’t get it.”

“I’m not trying to get it!” Jimin raises his voice, just the slightest like he’s trying to cement this across.

He looks so concerned. There’s stress lines evident on Jimin’s face, making him look older than he really is. His lips are curled downwards and his eyes twitch, helpless to the situation but desperate to help in any sense that he can. His voice is velvet smooth, not a single stutter as his tone ringing out clear to comfort for Jeongguk.

Jeongguk shakes as he speaks.

“You don’t know fucked up families, Jimin. Not like I do.”

(Mood: Daniel Ceasar - Hold Me Down)

There’s a deafening pause between the two of them in the room. Jimin’s hold around Jeongguk loosens, almost non existent. Jeongguk freezes up when he realises what he’s just said, assuming someone’s past when he has no idea what someone could be going through. He squeezes his eyes shut, mentally cursing himself. When he reopens, Jimin’s staring down at him with disbelief written over every feature.

“You don’t know shit about what I do or don’t know, Jeongguk.”

“Jimin, look—”

“You think I don’t know?” He continues, barking out a bitter laugh. “I admit, I may not know on the level you might do, okay? I’ll admit that but my life hasn’t been smooth sailing either, Jeongguk. It’s unfair that you assume so.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“My father?” Jimin continues though, ruthlessly so and not sparing a second to listen to Jeongguk. “He… he was really a man. He was an addict, drugs, alcohol, gambling—you name it, he was fucking with it. He never remembered my name, my birthday, my age. He’d come home at some ungodly time in the morning, drunk out of his mind and pass out, wasting our money like it grew off trees. My mother and I, we fucking struggled and she was all I had but she couldn’t take my father. She packed her bags and left, left me with him. You don’t understand what that’s like, okay? So, please.” Jimin pauses to take a deep breath, shaking his head as his own tears well up in his eyes. “Please, don’t tell me I don’t know fucked up families. I’ve never, unjustly, made a comment like that towards you, so please don’t.”

Jeongguk feels the guilt slither down inside of him. Upon seeing Jimin release his own tears, he curses under his breath.

He scoots forward in Jimin’s lap, reaching up to wipe away the tears. He can’t stand seeing Jimin cry, not when it’s because of him. When he’s worked up, he never has a censor over his mouth. When he feels backed into a corner, he can react viciously as a means of defending himself.

He’s made Jimin cry enough. He never wants to be the culprit of that again.

Jimin’s breathing harshly once the rush of words have imploded out of him, his own eyes widened at what he had just spilled out casually. Jeongguk doesn’t mind, though. He realises then, he realises now—everyone’s fighting their own battle. Everyone’s dealing with something that ruins them.

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk’s apologising as soon as he’s able to wipe the last of Jimin’s tears, cradling his face in his hands. “I’m so fucking sorry. I never meant to say that. I was hurt, upset. I’m so sorry.”

Jimin sighs as he leans into the touch, shutting his eyes.

“No, I shouldn’t of reacted like that.”

“Like fuck you shouldn’t,” Jeongguk mumbles, furrowing his brows. “I made a wrong comment, you told me so. I need people to do that more often. I need to be told when I’m wrong and you did and I appreciate it. I had no idea about… any of that and I just went and made a fucking comment.”

Jimin shakes his head as he looks at Jeongguk sincerely.

“I know life hasn’t been kind to you, Jeongguk.” He’s whispering the words. He grabs ahold of Jeongguk’s hand again, his thumb brushing across the knuckles that are now searing with pain. “But you can’t push me away anymore, not by making those comments. Life hasn’t been kind to me, either. You’re not a bad person, Jeongguk, no matter how hard you’ve convinced yourself.”

“Jimin—”

“Let me clean up your knuckles, yeah?” Jimin suggests with a slight head tilt, a smile crawling over his lips and wiping away the frown. His entire expression lightens up as he helps Jeongguk off the floor. “I don’t have any first aid kits around, but I’ll use what I have. Wait here.”

Jeongguk stands up from the floor and watches Jimin disappear out of the bedroom, wandering into the bathroom outside in the hallway.

He glances to the dressing table where he’s dented the wood, slightly, and Jimin’s perfumes have toppled over. He resists the urge of self loathe that threatens to take over, silently wondering why he’s destructive all the time. He walks over, gently fixing up the layout as Jimin wanders back in.

Jimin’s eyes follow to where Jeongguk’s fixing the table and he smiles.

“Thank you,” he says softly. He sits down on the bed and pats the space next to him. “Here we are again, huh?” He teases.

Jeongguk exhales as he walks over to him, seating himself down gingerly besides Jimin. He’s retreating back into his shell, ashamed with himself and his lack of reply towards Jimin pouring his heart out. He knows Jimin appreciates it, though. He knows Jimin doesn’t want him to crowd his personal space and implore into his life anymore than Jimin has managed to tell him about.

“Hand.” Jimin demands.

Jeongguk hands it over wordlessly and Jimin uses makeshift items to clean up. Lotion to wipe away the dried up blood, plasters to cover the deep cut and a bandage to wrap around. They’ve been through this before and Jeongguk wonders if Jimin has become an expert like Taehyung when it comes to tending bruises and if he eventually will.

“Last time you were like this, you liked laying down. Would you like to do that again?” Jimin suggests sweetly.

Jeongguk considers the offer before he nods meekly, waiting for Jimin to move towards the other side of the bed before following. He settles down onto the mattress, head cushioned as he shakes and closes his eyes.

Jimin’s hand reaches forward to cup his cheek. Before he can speak, Jeongguk cuts him to the chase.

“Is that why you draw your mother so often?”

He opens to gauge Jimin’s reaction. He doesn’t want to pry and prod in a sensitive area for Jimin, not wanting him to close off after the word vomit he had earlier. Jimin does seem, initially, uncomfortable. His eyes tighten up just the slightest but it doesn’t stop him from answering.

“Well, yeah,” Jimin shrugs, hand drifting downwards to grab ahold of Jeongguk’s hand. He intertwines their fingers, squeezing. “I don’t remember much of her anymore. I don’t really remember her hairstyle all that well, or her voice. I guess painting her is a way for me to hold onto her memory for as long as I can.”

Jeongguk’s chest constricts as he looks at Jimin’s tortured, pained expression. He can relate, in his own sense. He doesn’t remember much of anything anymore about his mother. That’s the thing about death: their memory, inevitably, begins to fade and you’re left grasping desperately at straws, trying to restore what you can.

But memory isn’t a magic machine and it’s impossible.

“I’m sorry, Jiminie.” Jeongguk whispers.

Jimin shakes his head. “It’s okay. She’ll live on inside of me.”

“Do you think you’ll ever get the chance to reunite with her?”

There’s a pause and Jimin has a contemplative look fixed over him, humming thoughtfully.

“I’d hope so,” he finally replies with a small smile. “It’s hard to think I never will. I love her so much, I’d like to.”

Jeongguk nods in understanding and he whispers another apology under his breath.

“I shouldn’t have—”

“Jeongguk, please.” Jimin pleads.

Jimin leans into his space, angling Jeongguk’s head up by his spare hand and kisses him earnestly. It’s a little desperate, considering the events of the day that has left them overwhelmed but mostly, it soothes Jeongguk. It brings the swirling thoughts in his mind to an all-time low, allowing him to unwind down with each swipe of their tongues meeting together.

Jeongguk melts right into the sheets, going pliant and when Jimin pulls away, there’s a glint in his eyes.

“D’you believe me when I say you’re not a bad person?”

Jeongguk stares intently into Jimin after the question, directed towards him, is asked. He searches into Jimin’s eyes, unsure how to label the rush of emotions that overtakes him. Jimin is looking at him like he’s singlehandedly the most important human being. It feels like it's just the two of them and nothing else matters.

He whispers. “Almost.”

Jimin nods. “I’ll take that.”

Chapter Text

Jimin wakes up earlier than expected, rolling over to see a serene Jeongguk still passed out besides him.

He takes a moment to allow his eyes to wander. Jeongguk looks peaceful like this. His features are smoothed out, wrinkle lines faded and he looks younger than he ever does. There’s a sense of vulnerability shining in his face. His previous turmoil seems to have disappeared in his sleep. Jimin reaches out to brush his fingers through Jeongguk’s matted fringe, stuck to his forehead in a moment of weakness before he pulls away and off the bed.

It's barely six in the morning and he can't sleep.

He knows he’ll end up skipping out on class today because Jeongguk is in his bed, sleeping and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. The anxiety of his work, that’s still pending to be finished, rests in the back of his mind somewhere but he tries to push the thought away.

He walks into the living room and notices it's empty and quiet. His roommates are presumably still asleep. Jimin's grateful, he’s not sure how he’ll face Hoseok and Namjoon after he had stormed out and ignored their calls, scrapped the note they left for him. He proves himself to be a worst roommate by the second.

Instead, Jimin sits down and calls Taehyung. It's still early in the morning and he knows the other boy is a deep sleeper, but he needs someone to talk to. Taehyung does manage to pick up the phone after the third ring, seemingly ruffled with his deep slumber.

“Hello?” His static, deep voice comes from the other line. “Jimin? You okay?”

Jimin takes a deep breath, relaxing back on the couch and crossing his legs. He keeps his voice a hushed whisper, as to not disturb any of the three occupants in the house.

“G’morning. I'm sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Yeah..” Taehyung doesn't sound annoyed, at least. There's shuffling from the other line as he presumably sits up on his bed, getting comfortable for the phone call. “It's fine, though. I kept my phone on loud just in case you'd call. Is everything okay? How's Jeongguk? I've been worried.”

Jimin smiles appreciatively. He knows he'd be nowhere without Taehyung if it wasn't for his endless support that he readily throws in Jimin’s direction, his patience and willingness to listen to each and every one of his woes.

“Everything's fine,” he promised. “Jeongguk is out like a light, snoring.”

Taehyung laughs. “His snoring is that bad that it woke you up?”

“No, no! I just couldn't get to sleep. I had… y’know, thoughts in my mind that I can't get out.”

There's a pause from the other line, a comforting hum.

“You wanna talk about it with me?”

Jimin laughs breathily, eyes glancing up to the clock in the living room. He can't believe how selfless Taehyung is. Even when they had an intense day yesterday and he has university classes in a few hours, he's still offering his ears to Jimin.

“You sure you don't want to catch some more sleep before your first class?”

“I'm sure. I'd struggle to get up, anyway, so this is good.”

Jimin smiles as he fiddles with the cushion on the couch, pulling at the threads.

“I'm sorry I jumped out of the car like that.” He apologises first.

There’s another pause from the other line but this time, it feels heavier. Jimin knows he had a mistake doing that. He had reacted irrationally, seeing Jeongguk minutes away from doing drastic meant there was nothing that could stop Jimin from acting out. Not even Yoongi’s screams and Taehyung attempting to run after him. He closes his eyes at the memory, sitting back on the couch.

“You shouldn't of done that, Jimin,” Taehyung admits. “Jan’s seen you now. Again.”

“I know but I kind of had to. He was about to do something he'd only regret.”

“I know. I can't decide whether I'm mad about it or not.”

Jimin laughs, running a hand through his messy bed hair.

“Perhaps, we could've approached the situation in a better way but in that moment, it was my instinct to help Jeongguk.” Jimin say. Taehyung doesn't supply any words as he hums, allowing Jimin to continue. “He seemed really shaken up.”

“Yeah… did he end up telling you why?”

“Nope,” Jimin says honestly. “I didn't expect him to, either. He doesn't really talk about himself to me.”

“He hardly talks about himself to me, either. Don't take it to heart.”

“I don't, honestly.”

“So, what happened last night, then? Is he okay?” Taehyung prods further, clear hints of concern leaking into his tone.

“He's okay right now, yeah. He's sound asleep. Last night, though…” he trails off for a second, gathering his thoughts and deciding an appropriate way to approach the events. “Um, he kind of lost control?”

“Oh… is he—um, what happened?”

“Taehyung, he's okay.” Jimin insists, shaking his head. “I guess whatever Jan had said caused him to react, he was punching my dressing table and split his knuckles then he cried for a while.”

The other man sighs deeply from the other line, coming out shakily.

“Fuck this shit, man.”

Taehyung sounds so defeated and tired, the tone of his voice speaking volumes than his words ever could. Jimin frowns as he curls into himself on the couch. He can't imagine how difficult it is for Taehyung to continuously hear his best friend destructing over and over and not understand why, to not get the full answers. Jimin’s known Jeongguk for much less than Taehyung and it already eats away at him, so he can't imagine the man on the line who seems to be rendered into speechless.

Jimin sighs too. “I'm taking care of him.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah, I promise. He's been asleep for hours, hasn't stirred once.”

“Okay, okay. Good. I'll talk to him once he's back here,” Taehyung says. “You going to be okay with him?”

“I can handle Jeongguk, Tae.”

Taehyung let's out a loud laugh, it sounds watery and emotional but he doesn't say anything. He merely dismisses the topic at hand.

“I gotta go now, I should at least attempt some hours before my first lecture but my phone will be on loud if you ever do need to talk.”

“Thanks, Taehyung. I appreciate it.”

“Goodbye, love!”

Taehyung’s hung up and his comforting presence, even if it's through the phone line, disappears alongside with it.

Jimin sighs as he locks his phone, grabbing a cushion to snuggle into as he thinks. There's enough sleepiness wavering in his system that he's sure if he tried, he could go back for a few hours. But he doesn't want to disturb Jeongguk by shuffling back into the sheets, doesn’t want to wake up the younger man necessarily.

He's grabbing his art folder and sorting out the piles of sketches he has before one of the bedroom door open and reveals Hoseok.

They both pause and stare at each other before Hoseok’s lips break into a slight, wobbly smile.

“Good morning, Jiminie. You're up early.” He comments as he walks into the kitchen, still dressed in his silk pyjamas and his hair sticking out in all directions.

Jimin holds his breath as Hoseok wanders around the kitchen, opening cabinets and collecting ingredients for breakfast. When he moves to throw the empty box of granola in the bin, he freezes upon seeing the note he had written there, too.

Jimin shuts his eyes and he waits.

Hoseok doesn't seem to be breathing himself as he puts the empty box on the counter, picking out the crumpled note with his own handwriting out of the bin.

“Jimin…” his voice is steel cold as he turns to him. “Why the fuck is my note in the bin? Did you even read it?”

It's the first time there's hints of anger behind Hoseok’s tone that's directed towards Jimin. He shudders upon hearing it but he knows he deserves it, he can't shy away from the treatment he's about to receive. He turns to look at Hoseok and ever so slightly, shakes his head.

“I didn't, no.”

Hoseok narrows his eyes with signs of confusion imploding into his features.

“I - I don't understand why not. I was simply telling you that I'm working extra hours, that I love you and I'll always take care of you. You always keep all the notes I write you so excuse me for feeling a little offended to see this one in the bin, unread.”

Jimin doesn't know how to respond. He looks into Hoseok’s eyes and sees the hints of anguish behind them, genuinely hurt. He wonders what he has ever done to be granted with such a caring best friend, always putting Jimin’s needs first and making him comfortable before worrying about himself.

“Because I didn't deserve any kind words from you.” He let's out in one go.

If Hoseok was confused before, he seems completely bewildered now. He arches a brow, walking out of the kitchen and towards him.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Jimin shakes his head. “Forget it, Jeongguk is here and—”

“You're not leaving this room until you explain.”

Jimin laughs. “You can't force me to stay, Hoseok.”

“Like hell I can't.”

He narrows his eyes, hates feeling backed into a corner. It only makes him react irrationally and right now, he doesn't want to act out on Hoseok because it's the last thing the man deserves. Hoseok’s piercing him with a look, dark eyes staring intently into him as he waits for an answer.

“Look,” Jimin begins with a sigh. “I overheard, okay?”

“Overheard?”

“Yeah. I came home yesterday earlier than I normally do and I was going to surprise you guys, but instead I ended up hearing you cry.”

Hoseok pauses as realisation pours into his features, the hold over the note slackening.

“Jimin—”

“I feel like shit, okay? I'm so worthless that I can't even give you and Namjoon hyung the right amount of money for rent. I'm making us all struggle and I fucking hate myself for it, okay? You don't understand—”

Hoseok’s stepping into his space. He crouches right down besides Jimin and furiously shakes his head, reaching over to hold Jimin’s head between his hands.

“No. No. We’re not going to do this. You aren't going to blame your father’s mistakes as yours.”

Jimin shakes his head, eyes frantic as he quickly glances over to his bedroom. The door is shut but he doesn't trust the paper thin walls, doesn’t trust Jeongguk not to hear even if he’s sound asleep.

“Jeongguk will hear you, please.”

Hoseok sighs loudly as he takes shuffles backwards, sitting right down on the floor before Jimin. He glances to the bedroom too before back at Jimin, voice a hushed whisper now.

“I've never once hated you for not being able to pay the rent, Jimin. So please don't fucking hate yourself for it.”

“But—”

“Are you listening to me?” Hoseok tilts his head, not leaving any room for arguments. His voice holds a fierce tone that he's never been on the receiving end of before. “I know you're blaming yourself and I don't blame you for that, either but listen to me. When you get out of that situation, get yourself a proper job where the income is paid directly to you, you can make up for it? Is that better?”

“I… I guess so.”

“If you feel so bad about missing out on rent, you can make up for each payment you've missed.”

Jimin closes his eyes and relief floods his system, nodding.

“Yes, yes. That'd make me feel much better.”

“Well, it's all settled then!” Hoseok says chirpy, all evidence of his previous anger slithering and disappearing within minutes. “Please, don't blame yourself, yeah? Namjoon and I, we fucking love you so much, Min.”

Jimin feels the words register within him, sighing out loud. He knows how much Hoseok and Namjoon both love him, never shy away from showering that affection and readily showing their concern to him. He had been wrong to run away, to hide but he had been afraid, too. He had felt worthless. He had felt useless. He still does but Hoseok’s looking at him like he means everything and it settles him for the time being.

“Okay.” He whispers, closing his eyes. “I love you too, hyung. You know that.”

“I do, yeah.”

Jimin attempts to smile but it falls short. “I’m sorry.”

Hoseok waves a hand of dismissal in the air, apparently not wanting to hear any of it.

“Nope. You’re not going to apologise for that, not today,” he says. “Did you say Jeongguk was here?”

Jimin hums in affirmation and at the mention of the man’s name, finds his eyes wandering to his closed bedroom door.

“Yeah.”

“Wasn’t he the asshole that...?” Hoseok doesn’t finish his sentence but his eyes narrow almost dangerously.

Jimin barks out a laugh as he gets up from the couch he’s sitting on, walking to the kitchen. He pulls out a few ingredients for breakfast, the ones he knows Hoseok would like and starts preparing for him. It’s the least he can do for his best friend after everything Hoseok endures for him. He starts whisking the egg and milk batter together, grabbing the toast loaf to make French toast.

“Not anymore,” Jimin reassures with a soft smile, knowing how his friend worries. “We’ve solved through our problems.”

“Oh, yeah?” He drawls in reply. “How so?”

“Just…” Jimin doesn’t respond for a second, dipping the bread into the batter and heating up a pan as he waits to cook. “It’s different now, I guess. I’m seeing a good change in him and I like that, a lot.”

Hoseok still seems skeptical and there’s traces of disbelief written over his features but he doesn’t protest, doesn’t say anything in return. He merely nods and follows to where Jimin stands, watching him.

“If he hurts you, you’ll tell me, right?”

Jimin snorts as he places the first slice of bread down on the pan, looking up to Hoseok.

“Of course but you really don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Don’t I? The first time I met him, he brought you home bruised up.”

“That wasn’t his fault.”

Hoseok pauses and shrugs. “If you say so.”

“Oh c’mon, hyung,” Jimin finds himself laughing as he turns over the slice of bread, letting the other side cook. “You really have nothing to worry about. I’m fine. I’m… I’m happy, I guess.”

The admittance makes his own eyes widen for a second. He never realised it before but around Jeongguk, he feels the burden on his shoulder feel lighter. Around him, Taehyung and Yoongi—he even begins to feel somewhat accepted, like he belongs somewhere besides the family he has with his roommates.

Hoseok’s features soften out and are replaced with nothing but the utmost fondness.

“If you say so, Jimin. I’ve only ever wanted you to be happy.”

Jimin smiles in response. He doesn’t have the appropriate words to respond with, blown away with his love for Hoseok. He finishes cooking him up two slices of French toast that Hoseok takes back into his room, claiming he’ll be late to work if he doesn’t start getting ready. Once the older man’s presence has disappeared from the living room, Jimin clears up and prepares a bowl of granola and yoghurt before slipping back into his bedroom.

Jeongguk is awake now.

He’s laying on his side, hands under his head and cushioned as he stares towards the door with open eyes. He looks tortured, somewhat. His expression is unreadable but there’s discomfort lingering with each time he blinks, looking tired and exhausted. Jimin frowns as he sits down on the other side of the bed.

“Would you like some breakfast?” Jimin mumbles into the quiet room.

Jeongguk doesn’t shift to face him, keeping his back to him but slowly shakes his head.

“I’m not hungry, thanks.” His voice is muffled by the pillow. “What’re you eating?”

“Oh, just some granola and yoghurt. The usual.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It is.” Jimin affirms.

The room lapses into silence and all Jimin can hear is Jeongguk’s harsh breathing, trying to be concealed by burying his head further into the pillow. He takes a moment, taking a bite of his breakfast before settling the bowl down on the bedside table. He slides further into the duvet, reaching for Jeongguk and pulling him into a spooning position.

Jimin’s arm wraps around Jeongguk’s front, pulling him back towards his body.

Jeongguk seems to almost instantly relax. He sighs out loud, his body going lax under the hold and his eyes fluttering shut. The dominance he had reeked of yesterday has nothing on him now.

Now, he’s pliant and quiet and eager for the touches Jimin gives him.

“Y’alright?” Jimin whispers as he buries his head into Jeongguk, inhaling him in. “You’re breathing really heavily, unusually quiet. Is something the matter?”

It takes the younger man a minute to reply but when he does, he angles his face backwards a little to stare straight at Jimin before he begins to speak.

“I’m just thinking,” he replies honestly. “About yesterday. Yoongi and Taehyung must be so mad at me.”

Jimin tightens his arm instinctively, bringing him impossibly closer. The proximity between them makes him feel warm, tingling his senses and heightening him all at the same time. There’s something addictive about Jeongguk that keeps Jimin coming back for more, yearning more from him.

“They probably are…” Jimin admits, not wanting to lie. “I talked to Taehyung this morning, though, and he seemed fine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he was just asking me if you’re okay.”

Jeongguk laughs softly but it doesn’t sound sincere as he snuggles further into Jimin, chasing his touch.

“Taehyung’s never able to stay mad at me, even when I deserve his silence. He worries about me too much.”

“You’re his best friend. No wonder he does.”

“Mmm.” Jeongguk sighs. “Did you get through to Yoongi hyung, at all?”

Jimin shakes his head. “I haven’t tried, honestly. Do you want me to?”

Jeongguk seems to consider this for a moment before shaking his head, looking back at Jimin with a small smile.

“Nah. He’s definitely mad at me, probably planning what to do next since I fucking blew it for all of us.”

“You were provoked, Jeongguk. No one’s blaming you.”

“I should’ve kept my composure.”

“Sometimes, you can’t,” Jimin tells him frankly, not wanting Jeongguk to blame himself for how things spiralled downwards yesterday. It had been terrifying to be a witness of and a part of him has grown even more hatred for Jan. He hadn’t been sure if that was even possible by this point. “He said something to really get under your skin and that’s not fair to you, okay? Just… don’t be so hard on yourself about it. I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

Jeongguk waits a beat.

“Do you think I made the war worse?”

Jimin considers the question for a second. His thoughts spiral. He keeps an arm resting tightly around Jeongguk, leaning in to rest his head on the man’s shoulder.

“I don’t know.” He answers truthfully. “I’d hope not. I hope Jan got the message and he decided to stay away.”

The prospect seems unlikely, especially from a man like Jan but Jimin can only hope. He can’t imagine how it could decline any further, he can’t imagine what it’d be like for the war to escalate into full-blown violence from both sides. He has a distinct feeling that there’d be bloodshed and long-term injuries and the thought makes him squirm with discomfort. He not only doesn’t want to get hurt himself, but definitely doesn’t want Jeongguk to get hurt either. Or Taehyung. Or Yoongi, again.

Jeongguk laughs wistfully.

“I really doubt it, Jimin.”

There’s heavy undertones in his voice that seem to indicate something more, something that’s bothering him.

Jimin hums as he falls into Jeongguk’s neck once again, burying his nose and nuzzling inside. He gives himself a moment before withdrawing, speaking so softly that he can barely be heard.

“Are you worried?”

Jeongguk chuckles humorlessly. “I’m so fucking anxious. I just don’t want to be the reason for anyone to get hurt.”

“I have something that’ll help you relax.”

Jeongguk turns to face him, raising a brow.

“As good as sex is, I don’t—”

“Not sex!” Jimin cuts him off, swatting his shoulder playfully. “I’m not going to make you fuck me when you’re literally shaking with anxiety, Guk.” He rolls his eyes and plants a soft kiss on the bridge of Jeongguk’s nose, leaning over his body. “Wait here, let me grab my stuff.”

Jeongguk doesn’t protest and lightly moves away, giving Jimin access to get off.

Jimin walks to his wardrobe, opening the doors to pick out the equipment he needs. He smiles when he sees the portrait of Jeongguk he had painted, concealing inside. He picks out his art supplies and wanders back, settling back onto the bed and tugging Jeongguk down by his ankles.

“Turn onto your front.”

Jeongguk furrows his brows, eyeing his suspiciously but he follows through with the order, anyway.

“Are you going to fuck me with your paintbrush?”

Jimin almost chokes with laughter, spanking Jeongguk’s clothed ass lightly and shaking his head.

“No, you idiot. I’m going to paint on your back. It’s really relaxing, trust me.”

“I don’t see how that’ll be relaxing.”

“Just trust me.”

Jeongguk seems reluctant but he doesn’t argue anymore, following Jimin’s orders blindly without complaint. Jimin reaches over, pulling his shirt up a little whilst Jeongguk does the courtesy of pulling it right over his head and off, exposing himself to Jimin.

Jimin allows his eyes to wander over his expansive back. Jeongguk works tirelessly at the gym and it’s obvious with the way his muscles are prominent, dipping in at the waist. He scans each inch of his skin, admiring how beautiful Jeongguk is.

“Mmm. You’re going to enjoy it,” Jimin promises as he straddles his legs. His hand runs along Jeongguk’s skin. “Just close your eyes and focus on the strokes of my paintbrush, okay?”

Jeongguk doesn't reply but he situates himself further into the bed, allowing his body to melt completely into the sheets. He tucks his arms under his head, tilting sideways to admire Jimin whilst he works. There's a lazy smile sprawled across his lips.

Jimin flushes a little as he dips his paintbrush into the red colour first, envisioning a sunset in his mind before he begins to bring it to life on his back.

It's, admittedly, a little more difficult than he had anticipated. It's much easier to paint on a surface that's meant to emphasise the colours but on his skin, it requires double the effort. Regardless, Jimin takes his time.

He works with no time pressure ticking inside of his mind. There’s nothing but calamity between the two of them as Jimin bites his lips, shuffling forward so the paint brush can reach Jeongguk’s shoulders, tainting him with the colours. The red splashes across his back, sinking into his skin and Jimin can’t help but admire his unfinished masterpiece.

Jeongguk is patient and doesn't move an inch, not daring to ruin the art that's started to form on his own body. He hides his face within his arms for the duration, allowing Jimin to use his body as he pleases for the aesthetics.

The minutes tick by endlessly and Jimin doesn’t ease up, doesn’t take a moment of break. When he comes to an end, he glances to the clock only to release an entire hour has passed easily.

“Does your back ache?” Jimin mutters when it registers how long it has been, cursing under his breath. “Shit, sorry. I got carried away.”

Jeongguk laughs a little breathily but shakes his head, not seeming bothered at all. He shifts a little, trying to stretch out his arms.

“Can I see? Are you done?”

“Yeah, yeah. I am. Give me your phone?”

Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate to reach over across the bedside table, opening up the camera application for Jimin and handing it over. Jimin takes it off him gratefully, settling back on the man’s body as he captures a few pictures that shows the painting off well. It’s not as good as he can manage on paper but he’s not too bothered with the outcome.

He hands the phone back over to Jeongguk. The younger man’s eyes scan over the picture for a few seconds, admiring the piece before he turns to look at Jimin with a genuine look lacing in his features.

“This is stunning.”

The compliment is said with the utmost sincerity, leaking from his tone as he keeps his eyes fixed on the picture. He looks for a while longer and then locks his phone, putting it back.

“Thank you. Do you want me to wipe it off?”

“No, no. Leave it on to dry.”

Jimin raises a brow but he doesn’t question his intentions. Instead he hums as he allows his hand to travel over Jeongguk’s body one last time before he shuffles off the bed entirely, walking into the ensuite to wash off the remnants of paint on his fingers.

When he returns, he notices Jeongguk’s completely placid in the sheets.

He seems in his element with his head resting against the pillows, drifting in and out of slumber as his eyes close every few seconds. When he notices Jimin coming back to the room, he raises his head slightly and offers a smile.

Jimin can’t help but close the gap between them, lowering his body down and kissing Jeongguk earnestly.

Jeongguk grows pliant under the touch and hums softly into his lips, parting them so Jimin can slip tongue in. It’s lazy and there’s no intent nor purpose behind him, just solely wanting to taste the other as they slowly kiss. Jeongguk pulls away first but his eyes have softened.

“Thank you.”

Jimin tilts his head to the side, arching a brow at him questioningly.

“For what?” He asks as he moves away, picking up his art supplies and placing them back into the wardrobe.

Jeongguk’s sitting up now that he’s sure the paint has dried, gingerly putting his shirt back on and ensuring no paint rubs off. When he’s sure it doesn’t, he shrugs his jacket back on too.

“I was just really worrying and you helped me forget about it.”

He shrugs. “It’s the least I can do.”

Jeongguk smiles at Jimin as he gets off the bed, yawning behind his fist.

“Um, I should get going now, to be honest.” He mumbles, looking like he doesn’t really want to leave but is compelled to do so. “I need to talk to Yoongi hyung when I get home about what happened yesterday.”

Jimin doesn’t want him to leave either, he realises. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he’s becoming accustomed to Jeongguk’s presence. He wants to bask in Jeongguk’s attention, wants to be the one who helps the man unwind down when his thoughts get a little too much. He wants to understand and learn more about Jeongguk.

But all he can do is nod as he walks them out of the room, towards the front door.

Jeongguk shoves his feet back into his trainers, stretching his arms above his head before looking back at Jimin for a second.

“I’ll see you soon?” He suggests, sounding hopeful.

Jimin’s chest expands as he nods. “You bet.”

When Jeongguk slips back into his apartment twenty-five minutes later, taking the longer walking route home to avoid the inevitable—Yoongi is sitting on the couch. Presumably waiting for him. He has a cigarette between his fingers, an irked expression fixed across his face. When he looks up and notices Jeongguk, his frown deepens.

“You finally home, then?” Yoongi mumbles under his breath, taking a drag out of his cigarette.

The guilt and the remorse of how bad he managed to ruin the plan yesterday slams into him, all over again. He had been the light at the end of the tunnel out and if he had followed through correctly, they wouldn’t feel the need to look over their shoulders anymore.

“Hyung—”

“Explain to me, Guk. I don’t understand what Jan said to make you freak out so bad.”

He seems all business-like, no sense of comfort in his face. He sits composed on the couch, legs spread out and arching his brow condescendingly at Jeongguk. It unnerves him a little, unsure whether or not he deserves such treatment from Yoongi.

He shifts on his feet uncomfortably from where he stands, feeling himself burn under Yoongi’s hard, unforgiving gaze. As much as he doesn’t feel like talking about it, he knows he has to explain himself.

“Jan… um, he knows about Sunhye.”

He looks up towards Yoongi and watches the older man expression shift right before him.

It goes from unbothered, disinterested to completely apologetic. He lowers the cigarette, eyes widening instinctively.

“He, what?”

“Yeah…” Jeongguk runs a hand through his hair, a nervous tick of his. “I was talking about his brother and he retorted with Sunhye. He knows her and I have no idea how.”

“Fuck.” Yoongi puts out his cigarette, his hands shaking as he follows through with the act. “What the fuck? How’s that possible?”

Though Yoongi has never met Sunhye himself, he knows about her. Jeongguk hadn’t always had a hard exterior. Before, when he was younger and trying to cope with his life, Yoongi had been tentative and he had been a shoulder of support for Jeongguk. On one particular night, he had spilled out about his concerns with Sunhye. There was nothing either of them could do but Yoongi had given him a twisted, sympathetic look—much like he does now.

Jeongguk has to look away, not wanting to observe the face.

“I don’t know. I really don’t and it drove me a little crazy.”

“I… I don’t blame you, Guk. Fuck.”

“I don’t know if Jan knows anything about Sunhye. He might’ve just done his research about me, found out through word of mouth who my sister is?” Jeongguk suggests, not wanting to even entertain the other possible theories. This one is the one that feels the easiest to believe. “He just used her name when he got pissed off, especially at the mention of her brother?”

Yoongi considers this for a moment. He fiddles with bandage on his forehead, unravelling it only to press it back down.

“I can’t be sure,” he answers. “I don’t understand what motive Jan could possibly have otherwise.”

Jeongguk shrugs helplessly. Every time his mind wanders towards Sunhye, his thoughts go into overdrive. He had never stopped thinking about her, never stopped loving her but as the years had passed, the insistent reminder of her had dulled. It didn’t feel heavier with every morning he woke up. Yet now, once again, it’s all he can focus on.

“I don’t know what to do. What do you think it means for us, the war?” Jeongguk struggles to get the words out, his lips curling downwards as he takes a step towards Yoongi. “I fucked it all up, didn’t I? You’re mad at me.”

Yoongi looks up to him with an unreadable expression, sighing. He pats the space besides him and Jeongguk only hesitates for a second before walking and sitting down besides him.

“We don’t do anything.” Yoongi’s voice is firm and leaves absolutely no room for arguments, eyes turning steel cold. “This war, if we react, it’ll only make it worst and we can’t afford that. We’re outnumbered. We’ll never last, Jeongguk. We keep on alert at all times, look over our shoulders, keep our eyes open. We don’t do anything, at all. We let Jan come back to us and then…” he falls silent, shrugging helplessly. “Then, we can figure it out.”

Jeongguk allows the words to process within him. It doesn’t do anything to appease the restlessness that eats away at his gut, making him feel unsure about the entire ordeal. Yoongi keeps wanting to back down, wanting to hide and shy away from the war and making them look weak but Jeongguk never go against his words even if he disagrees.

“Okay.” He whispers.

“Look at me,” Yoongi presses on though. Jeongguk does, he turns to face Yoongi and they make intense eye contact as he continues to speak. “Taehyung’s birthday is coming up, okay? We can’t do anything to ruin that. I want to throw him a party. After everything he’s dealt it, God knows he deserves it and nothing can ruin that.”

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut and only replies with a mute nod.

“Of course.”

“If there’s anything to be dealt with after that, we can do it accordingly. But we do not, under any circumstances, start any fight we can’t finish before Taehyung’s birthday.”

Jeongguk can’t help but agree with Yoongi’s words at that. As terrifying at the situation they’re in is, Taehyung deserves the best of days for his birthday. Taehyung is selfless and endless giving. Without him, Jeongguk doesn’t think he could be where he is today and he doesn’t want any war, any fight to be interfering with the day that’s reserved just for Taehyung.

He sighs and reaches for the cigarette carton, withdrawing one and lighting it up.

“I swear, I won’t get into any trouble beforehand.” He promises.

Yoongi rolls his eyes playfully. His stern tone before has evaporated, replaced with some sort of softness that can only been withdrawn certain times.

“Hey, Guk. You okay, though?”

Jeongguk turns to face him just as he’s exhaling the smoke, settling back on the couch and shrugging.

“I’m fine. I just. I need Sunhye to be okay and I can’t rest until I know.”

“I understand. After Taehyung’s birthday, we’ll figure it all out.”

There’s only a week and half left for Taehyung’s birthday. It’s not a long time. If they can wait it out, they can figure out an end to the war once and for all.

Yoongi’s giving him a sincere smile, seriousness taking over every single one of his features. Jeongguk only returns the gesture as he continues to smoke, trying not to dwell on every single way this could go horribly wrong.

Jimin’s shift finally finishes around six am. The final visitors in the club make their way out, plastered and drunk and Jimin feels relieved when the doors are shut and locked. The final indicator that it’s time to go home. With each passing day, the strip club begins to feel more and more unbearable.

He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t want to belong here. He doesn’t want the bruises that scatter across his skin and he definitely doesn’t want to be under Jaesun’s hold any longer.

Jimin scans across the club one last time. There’s rubbish strewn across the floor, empty alcohol bottles left on numerous tables. The music is still playing, a dull thud vibrating across the room.

He sighs as he runs a hand through his messy, now greasy matted hair as he walks back into the staff room.

Jimin ignores Jaesun for the time being, knowing if the boss wants to talk to him he will himself as he walks into his dressing room. There’s another co-worker with him, getting changed but Jimin pays him no mind as he slips out of his shorts—albeit, with difficulty due to how tight they are—and starts redressing in his ordinary clothes.

The co-workers eyes linger over his body which irks Jimin. He turns to face the guy, raising a brow.

“Can I help you?”

The man shakes his head, cheeks flushing a deep red as he quickly glances away.

“No, no. Sorry.”

Jimin sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He has no patience right now. He feels drowsy from the ecstasy he had swallowed earlier when Jaesun had done his rounds around the club, slipping one to Jimin. He feels fatigued from the allnighter he’s had, dancing around the room and getting naked for men.

The job, eventually, has begun to take a toll on Jimin. He wants to be finished with this part of his life already.

“It’s just… you’re so beautiful,” the man continues even though no one asked him. “I just wonder what someone like you is doing here.”

Jimin almost wants to yell. He wants to scream at the top of his lungs and he wants to cement it in everyone’s minds that he’s not here by choice. Instead, he bites his lips and resists every urge within him to do exactly that.

“What is someone like you doing here?” Jimin retorts, not bothering to spare him a glance.

The man doesn’t answer his question, seemingly understanding the mistake of what he had asked. He simply looks away, grumbling something under his breath as he tugs a sweater over his head and walks out. He makes sure to slam the door shut on his way out which makes Jimin flinch for half a second.

He pays no attention, though. He’s too numb to care, to entertain other co-workers here. They’re not in a situation as deep as he is, they’re not literally owned by Jaesun.

Once Jimin’s finished getting ready and sorting through his hair, he exits the dressing room. He walks towards Jaesun’s office, ready to hand over the sum of money he’s made today minus his small cut. The percentage always varies but it never increases over fifty percent, most of the money going directly towards paying off the debts.

He stops outside the office, though, when he notices a girl behind the door talking to Jaesun.

Jimin’s never seen her before and he’s entranced. He can’t help but analyse her from head to toe. Female strippers in this club is rare. They’re respected and valued, but they’re rare. He’s always fascinated by every female stripper that walks through the door and wonders what makes them want to stay.

This girl, in particular, looks strikingly young and possibly even underage. Though there’s frown lines evident on her face, eye bags that are darker than Jimin’s ever seen before. She looks like she’s experienced a lot in her life, so much could be told just by observing her troubled expression.

“Sun, no one’s forcing you to stay here.” Jaesun is speaking to her.

Sun. Sun. Why does that name hit a chord within him?

Jimin frowns as he does a twice over the girl. She has light brown hair that cascades down her shoulders, falling into tight little ringlets. Her eyes are an unfocused brown, clear sign that she’s high off the pills that Jaesun readily gives the workers he employs. She has a sharp jawline and plump lips. There’s something that reminds him of… Jeongguk.

Jeongguk.

Jimin’s heart clenches as he stares on, unable to tear his eyes away even if he tried.

Sunhye. Wasn’t that the name of Jeongguk’s sister?

The girl that sits in Jaesun’s office has similar features to Jeongguk but nothing too obvious, nothing that can confirm his growing suspicions.

Before he can dwell on his thoughts any longer, Jaesun’s looking up towards him. His easy experience only morphs into something distasteful, clicking his tongue upon seeing Jimin standing before him.

“What do you want?” Jaesun spits at him, tapping the end of his cigar and fixing him with an unimpressed look.

Jimin isn’t really interested in spending a minute more than he has to. He walks in, avoiding the girl’s gaze at all times, and hands over the wad of cash that he has in his hand. Jaesun sighs as he reaches over, counting them all and then nodding.

“Good. Get outta here.”

There’s nothing more he wants to do. He obliges easily and as he turns, his eyes fall upon the girl.

There’s nothing solid to link her to Jeongguk, not really. The possibility of her being related to Jeongguk is little to none but he can’t help but dwell on the thought even as he exits the office, out of the building.

He can’t stop the image of the girl being implanted in the back of his mind.

Some of her features relate with Jeongguk exceptionally well, some not so much.

As much as Jimin wants to ignore the scene he had just witnessed, bury it deep within him—it feels wrong to do so. He doesn’t want to pretend it never happened. He wouldn’t be able to stop the swirling thoughts that spin his mind, consuming him whole.

Giving it a minute’s thought, he withdraws his phone and dials Yoongi’s number.

Jimin doesn't know whether he's overthinking or not. He doesn't want to make a big issue out of something that could be, potentially, nothing.

The girl sitting in Jaesun’s office had caught his eye but it could've been nothing. It could've been any ordinary girl sharing some of Jeongguk’s features. That's normal, right? Just because their eye shape is the same, it doesn't have to mean anything.

But still, he can't erase the unease.

He knows he'll only dwell on it later, and torture himself, if he keeps it buried within him. The only way Jimin can deal with his tormenting thoughts is to share with someone. Jeongguk seemed like a bad idea. He didn’t want to turn to the younger man and tell him he had potentially seen his younger sister at the club he works at, the same club where Jeongguk’s aware the clients can be abusive. Bty now, Jimin has figured out Jeongguk has lost contact with his sister somewhere along the line and he doesn’t want to torture Jeongguk further.

Yoongi seemed like the best bet. Only because he has a logical approach with everything he faces.

Jimin waits outside their agreed location, leaning against the wall.

There's a cigarette in his hand that he doesn't smoke, the butt burning. He sighs as he throws it on the floor, crushing it with the heel of his shoe. He had waited a few hours after his shift had ended before meeting Yoongi. The need for sleep has started to crawl under his skin now, feeling it overtake him.

Yoongi appears from his car minutes later. He's still recovering hence why he limps over a little, clear discomfort written over his face with every step that he takes. The bruises that had once marked over his features have began to clear up but his ribs still seem to be painful if his ragger breathing is any indicator.

Yoongi comes to a stop before Jimin, tilting his head.

“You okay, Jimin-ah?” He questions straight-away, not beating around the bush even for a second.

Jimin understands. After all, he had spontaneously called Yoongi for the first time and rambled on for a while without explicitly stating what the problem is and saying he'll only tell Yoongi in person.

Yoongi looks genuinely concerned, too. His features are scrunched up as he awaits for news, holding himself together tightly as he leans against the wall too to take weight off his broken ankle.

Jimin sighs as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Do you know anything about Jeongguk’s sister, Sunhye?”

Yoongi’s expression almost instantly fades.

“What?”

“Sunhye… his sister?”

“I mean, of course I do. Why do you ask?”

Jimin bites his lips, not wanting to sound insane. He knows little, to no, information about Sunhye. He doesn't know where she is, whether or not she's in contact with Jeongguk, why she'd possibly be at the club but Yoongi has always been the most logical and it only made sense to call him.

“I… um, I don't know. This is going to sound crazy but I think I saw her?”

Yoongi halts, raising a brow in question.

“You saw her?”

“Yeah. At the club I work at?”

Yoongi seems to consider this for a moment, eyes contemplative and features deep in thought. When he looks back up at Jimin, he looks bewildered.

“What makes you say so?”

“She just looked like Jeongguk… I guess?” He realised how stupid he sounds now that he's saying it out loud, wanting to facepalm himself. “My manager was also calling her ‘Sun’.” He pauses. “Never mind, it's just me being an idiot.”

Yoongi looks bemused though there's hints of something undetectable lingering within him. His eyes darken for a second, looking faraway. He seems to hesitate for a long, long moment before he takes a deep breath.

“We haven't heard from Sunhye for a while.” Yoongi admits. “Jeongguk hasn’t talked to her for a really long time so we don't know where she is or what she's doing.”

Jimin has suspected so much but the confirmation only pings deep within him. His face falls instantly, the instant sympathy imploring into his bones. They’ve talked about Sunhye only once but from that conversation, Jimin had been able to sense the utmost love Jeongguk held for his sister, undoubtedly.

“Oh.”

“So whilst it's absolutely possible it could've been her, I don't want to put any ideas into his head,” Yoongi continues easily. “Especially when he’ll do anything to prove himself either right or wrong.”

“So, what? Am I just supposed to ignore it?”

“There's nothing for you to speculate over in the first place. You saw a look-a-like, Jimin. Don't concern yourself too hard over it.”

Whilst Yoongi’s words are stern, his expression is anything but. He’s looking at Jimin with empathy. Jimin doesn’t understand but he decides to take Yoongi’s words for granted. The man has known Jeongguk for a longer time and if Yoongi claims it’s not an area of his concern, he’ll believe him.

“Okay. I'm sorry for bothering you, I just couldn't get it out of my mind and I didn't know who else I could talk to.”

Yoongi shrugs, dismissing his apology with a wave gesture in the air.

“It's fine. It gave me an excuse to get out of the house, mostly.”

Yoongi stands there with Jimin for a while longer. They converse back and forth, making small talk as Jimin inspects over his lingering injuries and bruises and vaguely wonders when he’ll make a full recovery.

After thirty minutes or so, Yoongi finally picks up his car keys.

“C’mon. I'll give you a ride home?” He suggests.

Jimin almost wants to protest. He doesn't know Yoongi that well and he doesn't want to overstep the line. There's the perfectly functioning public transportation that he can take but Yoongi’s looking at him firmly that almost leaves no room for disagreements.

“Sure.” He relents.

As they settle into the car, Yoongi turns on the radio to provide background noise as he begins to drive. They spend most of the ride in silence, only offering a few words here or there for conversation but nothing of real relevance.

When Yoongi’s pulling up outside Jimin’s apartment, he stops him.

“Look, I know I said it's nothing to worry yourself over but… can you do me a favour?” Yoongi’s asking, lips twisting downwards.

Jimin nods. “Yeah?”

“Just, um. Keep an eye out for that girl? Just in case.”

Jimin doesn’t entirely understand why he should but he doesn’t dare decline Yoongi’s favour. He’s not sure he could when Yoongi fixes him with a piercing look. Jimin only hums, unbuckling his seatbelt at the same time.

“It's unlikely I'll see her again.” Jimin admits, considering he's never seen her before except today. He doesn't even know why she was there, what role she played within the club. “But of course, I'll keep an eye out.”

Yoongi nods and then he dismisses Jimin.

There’s something irrational that registers through Jimin, some sort of sensation of fear that he can’t describe. He refuses to mention it though as he climbs out of the car, waving goodbye to Yoongi.

“When's the exhibition?”

Jimin looks up from the canvas settled on an easel, painting of a tiger lost in the bewilderness. Namjoon sits on the couch, cross legged and nursing a cup of orange juice. He looks expectedly at the painting like he's waiting for the tiger to make a move.

“A few days away.”

Jimin’s been granted the chance for another exhibition, as his semester comes to an end. His art teachers have been continuously impressed with his artwork and they want to put it on display again for one special night.

He has been working tirelessly to produce new, fresh pieces for the exhibition.

He stays up all night on his days off, painting with the inspiration that swirls inside of him. Namjoon gives him company more often than not, sits by his side and watches devotedly. They haven’t talked about the day Jimin walked in and listened into their conversation but he prefers it this way, doesn’t want to bring up the topic and make the atmosphere awkward between them.

“Are you excited?” Namjoon questions with a small smile. “This time, I’ll take a day off work to come see it.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.”

Jimin frowns, not sure how he feels about Namjoon taking time off work especially when they’re already financially struggling just for his art work. But something tells Jimin that Namjoon is stubborn about it because he leaves no room for arguments whatsoever, fixing Jimin with a look.

He shrugs. “If you’re sure you can, I’d love you to come along.”

Jimin’s last exhibition had been tainted with bad memories, ones that he’d like to remove and never relive. This time, he gets a chance to redo it. He stares down at the canvas before him and pulls out his acrylic paints, drawing out some more orange colour before he sets on shading the tiger’s fur.

Namjoon watches with a fascinating sparkle in his eyes, admiring every move Jimin makes with his hands.

“I’m sure.”

Jimin smiles. “I can’t wait, then.”

Jimin resumes to painting and Namjoon sips at his juice, remaining silent and still as he watches. Usually, he’s not fond of people watching him do his work. But Namjoon has always been watching him, ever since they first started to interact. For some reason, Namjoon’s entranced by how Jimin works and likes to observe when he does so.

Jimin’s not complaining. Namjoon’s wandering eyes means there’s always compliments coupled with honesty about his work from the man himself and Jimin can appreciate that. He’s become accustomed to the older man’s presence around him when painting and working, asking questions and pondering further on his work.

“Are you nervous to finish university?” Namjoon questions after ten minutes or so of silence between them. “You only have a month, or so, left of your last semester. Your exams must be around the corner.”

Jimin hums, his lips curling downwards instinctively at the mentions of his exams. He’s been busy, trying to balance his time effectively between assignments, working towards his exams, going to work and also seeing Jeongguk and Taehyung.

“I’m a little nervous,” Jimin admits. “I don’t know where life will take me after this.”

“Maybe someone will notice you at the exhibition and take you under their wings forever.”

Jimin laughs at Namjoon’s comment. It sounds ideal but he’s never had such good luck before, doesn’t even have one percent hope that Namjoon words could come true.

“Wishful thinking, hyung.” Jimin shakes his head though there’s a smile creeping onto his face. “I really doubt it.”

Namjoon tilts his head but doesn’t comment further. There’s clear disagreement written over his features that he doesn’t voice it out loud.

Jimin continues to paint as quietness ensues between them again. Namjoon barely shifts behind him, simply wandering off the couch for a moment to refill his cup with orange juice and then resume back to his position to watch Jimin. He works carefully over his canvas, conscious of each stroke and turn. He has to make his work perfect, has to get enough donations to come quicker to paying off Jan.

After half an hour, the doorbell rings.

Jimin moves to retrieve but Namjoon’s up and off before he can, shaking his head.

“You keep working.”

Jimin can't decline that offer. He nods as he watches the man walk off, resuming his attention back to his canvas. He doesn’t look up before he hears commotion by the front door and the sound of Jeongguk’s voice has his head snapping up.

Because surely, Jeongguk is standing right there, in his apartment.

He's dressed in casual attire, his hair swooped back and out of his way. He has a lazy smile sprawled across his face whilst an unimpressed Namjoon stands by his side.

“Jeongguk says he's here to see you.” Namjoon’s voice drones.

Jimin grins as he puts the brush down, getting up from where he sits. He walks over to the front door where Jeongguk stands, looking a little timid and out of space but his head still stuck up high. Namjoon grabs his glass of orange juice and promptly dismisses himself, walking into his room and shutting the door behind him. Jeongguk’s eye level follows before it fixes back on Jimin.

“Does he hate me, or?”

Jimin shrugs. “Possibly.”

“Why?”

“Do I need to answer that?” Jimin teases, tilting his head to the side and smiling widely. “They just know about the first time we… um, in the gym?” He blushes himself a little, turning on his feet and walking back to his canvas. “They didn’t like how you ignored me afterwards.”

There’s a moment of silence before Jeongguk’s following him.

“Ah,” he acknowledges as he sits down on the couch. “They still hate me for that?”

“I guess so.”

Jeongguk hums and he doesn’t reply for a minute. He seems to be analysing Jimin’s piece, eyes wandering over the drawing and the different colours used. His eyes dart over every inch before back at Jimin.

“That’s really pretty. You making this for any reason?”

“Mhm. I have an exhibition in a few days.”

Jeongguk’s quiet again before he lets out a quiet, subdued.

“Oh. Nice.”

Jimin furrows his brows as he turns around to face the boy again, trying to gauge where his head's at. Most of the times, Jeongguk is a closed book and trying to read him is hard. There’s parts to Jeongguk that he’ll never truly understand, never truly uncover. Jeongguk right now is looking all parts ashamed and Jimin doesn’t understand why.

“What’s wrong?” He questions, walking over to Jeongguk.

The younger man shrugs. “Just… the last exhibition was bad so I hope this one isn’t.”

“It won’t be.” He replied firmly. “I mean, do you want to come?”

There’s a long pause. A contemplative look takes over Jeongguk’s features, scrunching his nose together.

“You’d really want me there?”

“Why not?”

“After what I did last time?”

Jimin sighs as he puts the paintbrush down, sitting down beside Jeongguk on the couch. He doesn’t push their personal space, keeping a good distance between them despite the compelling need to touch him.

“Listen. What you did then doesn’t matter to me now, not if you don’t repeat the same mistakes,” Jimin says firmly, emphasising each words so they engrave within Jeongguk. “I know you like and appreciate my art so if you want to come, you should. Taehyung’s coming to help me set up, too. I’d love for you to come.”

Jeongguk considers for a bit, eyes trained on Jimin as he does so.

“I’d like to come.” He confirms.

Jimin can’t help the toothy grin that takes over his own face. He has to turn away and face his canvas again, resume to work before he embarrasses himself any further. He continues the same motions he’s been doing for the past hour, humming under his breath as he does so.

“Why’re you here now, then?” Jimin questions absentmindedly, getting lost in his work once he gets started again.

“I was just… bored.”

“Bored?”

“Yeah.”

Jimin can’t help but arch an eyebrow in confusion, turning back around to face Jeongguk. He looks sheepish, trying to bury his face in his sweater paws and focusing anywhere but on Jimin.

The words still register within him, though. Jeongguk was bored. He was seeking company. Instead of going to Yoongi, Taehyung—he came here. He wanted to spend his spare time with Jimin for no reason than he wanted Jimin’s company.

A spark of something indescribable crosses through him. It ignites within him and makes his stomach flutter, swelling with some sort of fondness that Jimin’s not sure he’s ever experienced before. He ducks his face and turns back around before he can give himself away, unsure why he feels so shy yet so elated around Jeongguk.

Jeongguk doesn’t speak, neither does Jimin.

He keeps his attention focused on the painting he works on and Jeongguk sits devotedly behind him, not uttering a single word. Every now and then, he’ll stand up and wander off into the kitchen, preparing himself a sandwich or grabbing a drink before taking a seat right back on the couch and watching Jimin quietly. Jimin finds himself zoning out, completely in his element with his artwork and Jeongguk’s presence around him.

He could get used to this.

“Here we are again!” Taehyung smiles happily as he grabs the completed canvases from the bags they had carried over, gently easing them out and hanging them on the wall prompted.

Taehyung is an everlasting support in Jimin’s life. He’s always there for Jimin without fail and he had cancelled his own classes to attend Jimin’s exhibition, to help out. He looks at ease as he hums a tune under his breath, helping them set up an hour before the exhibition opens to viewers and potential buyers.

Jimin’s nervous. He always is when it comes to showing off his art, whether or not he thinks he’s talented or not.

It’s always nerve wracking to put your work out on display for hundreds of people to ogle at, draw their own conclusions from. It always humbles Jimin when people actually want to purchase his art, spending their own money willingly on something Jimin pours his sweat and tears into.

“Thank you,” Jimin mumbles as he looks up, back at Taehyung. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

The last few days have been spent in a frenzy. All he’s been doing is painting. He’s barely been sleeping after his work shifts, going straight to his bedroom and working on completing pieces. He’s sleep deprived and fatigued, overworked right to the edge of insanity but it’s paying off now. After tonight, he can finally rest.

His corner of the exhibition looks exceptional. It follows a certain theme, his mother’s paintings right in the middle, surrounded by the paintings of flowers he’s done and then on the far corners, his other nature inspired canvases.

Taehyung takes a step back and admires it, eyes filtering around the entire wall that’s covered with Jimin’s art.

“Don’t be silly. This is all your work. Look how fabulous it looks.”

Jimin flushes as he swats Taehyung’s shoulder but takes heed to the compliment. Every time he looks around, he’s taken aback by how his work looks all set up together. It all follows a certain colour scheme, aesthetically pleasing and blending in well together.

Everything feels exceptional.

Except the fact that Jeongguk’s nowhere to be seen.

The last time they had talked, he had promised he’d turn up at the exhibition. That he wanted to be here. He wanted to redeem himself after how he had managed to ruin the last time. He had seemed sincere when he said the words, speaking honestly and Jimin could detect that within him.

Yet, he hadn’t heard of Jeongguk in the past days. There’s no sight of him here today, either.

“Is Jeongguk coming, or?” Jimin can’t help the question slip.

Taehyung shrugs. “I haven’t asked him.” He replies honestly.

“Oh. Okay.”

Jimin’s not sure what he had expected, either.

All he knows is that it does sting him. He had wanted Jeongguk here, alongside Taehyung and Namjoon who’s wandering outside the building and taking the last business calls before he joins them for the opening hour. He had wanted to see Jeongguk’s reaction to his work.

Taehyung seems to notice his sour mood, walking up to him and slinging an arm around his shoulder.

“Hey, look. He’ll be here, okay?” Taehyung reassures, drawing Jimin closer. “I assure you.”

Jimin attempts to shoot him a smile but it falls short, wavering. He doesn’t know whether or not he can believe Taehyung’s words, unsure whether the man is just trying to appease him for the time being.

“Yeah, sure.”

Namjoon wanders back in minutes before the night begins and then the building’s door opens, granting viewers access into the building. Jimin’s nerves increase by a threshold. People stroll around and stop every now and then, pausing to analyse Jimin’s paintings. He can feel their judgemental eyes, inspecting every inch of his work and trying to draw out conclusions.

Taehyung, as always, plays the perfect host.

He welcomes people with his infectious energy, selecting out the right type of people and drawing them in. He rants endlessly about Jimin’s work, using artistic terminology that Jimin’s surprised he even knows of. Through Taehyung, he manages to get two donations.

“Thank you so much,” Jimin mumbles as he walks over to Taehyung, hugging him from behind when they have a moment alone and tightening his arms instinctively. “You don’t understand how much this means to me.”

“I have an idea. You don’t have to thank me.”

Taehyung leans back into the hold for a second before he withdraws himself, resuming his task at hand.

As much as Jimin’s thrilled by how the night is turning out and how the donations keep piling up, he can’t help the sinking feeling of Jeongguk’s lack of presence in the building. He attempts to bury the disappointment within him, not wanting to dwell on it but with every passing second, it grows.

He snaps out of his thoughts when he hears a commotion.

Taehyung seems to be engaged in some of argument with another man, who stands before Jimin’s canvas and points at it accusingly. Jimin frowns as his feet carry him over to the unknown man, stopping before him.

“Can I help you?” Jimin tilts his head to the side, questioning.

The man’s eyes burn into him when he turns to face him.

“This is a literal, exact copy of another art work I’ve seen.” The man gestures to one of Jimin’s painting—the one of his mother with her dazzling smile. “You’re plagiarising and you have the nerve to show it off.”

Jimin’s mouth slackens. He stares at the picture his mother before back at the man, shaking his head furiously. He can handle constructive criticism, has been hearing it and taking his professor’s advice for years now but he can’t handle straight up accusations. He feels the first bubble of anger boil inside of him.

“Sir—”

“You little rookie artists come in here, acting like you know it all when you don’t know shit about art. This is disgraceful.”

Before Jimin can begin to defend himself, there’s a hand on the man’s shoulder to effectively stop the next words prepared to fall from his mouth. Both Jimin and Taehyung—who’re gobsmacked and unable to bring the right words to their mouth—turn and notice Jeongguk standing there.

Jimin’s heartbeat dramatically climbs as soon as his eyes fall upon the younger man. Jeongguk always has the same effect on him. But right now, he feels relief flooding his system. He had been convinced, and he had accepted, that Jeongguk wouldn’t grace them with his presence tonight but yet, he stands there and proves Jimin wrong once again.

He seems to be dressed in his finest, too. He’s wearing a white button down, tight enough to show off his tiny waist underneath but his rippled abs. He’s paired it off with slim-fit slacks, fitting him nicely around his thick thighs. Jeongguk’s heavenly body shows off well with the clothes he’s wearing, reeking of the confidence aura and holding his dominance in his stance.

The man turns to face him, furrowing his brow.

“Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter.” Jeongguk shakes his head, gesturing to the painting of Jimin’s mother. “Whilst you may think this painting is plagiarism, it’s actually an exceptional composition of the artist’s mother. You should do your research before you make accusations.”

The man’s jaw falls open and before he can respond, Jeongguk continues.

“Now, I think you should apologise to the artist who has been showcasing his art work bravely in front of everyone.”

The man turns back to Jimin and he looks ashamed, but also annoyed, at being made to apologise in front of all of them. His face flushes slightly as he faces Jimin, not looking him in the eye as he mutters ‘I’m sorry’ under his breath before disappearing into the crowd.

Jimin blinks in surprise, unable to bring words to his mouth as he watches the man fade away.

When he looks back to Jeongguk, the younger man has taken a few steps closer to Jimin.

Jeongguk’s hand reaches out to lightly touch Jimin’s biceps, a small smile creeping on his face. He looks beautiful like this. All Jimin has ever seen him in before is workout attire, in casual clothes. He’s never seen Jeongguk like this—well presented, dressed to suit the occasion—and it makes Jimin’s breath catch in his throat, unable to tear his eyes away and look elsewhere.

Their eyes remain fixed on each other as Jeongguk tightens his hold just slightly.

“You okay?” He whispers. “Fuck that man. He had no idea what he was talking about.”

Jimin takes a moment to reply, whispering out the words.

“You’re here.”

Jeongguk smiles. “I am, yes.”

Jimin can’t seem to find a suitable response so Jeongguk excuses them for a minute, telling Taehyung they’ll be back in less than a minute. He gently steers Jimin out of the little corner where they’re working and into another discrete part of the building, where only the two of them exist.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Jeongguk asks now that they’re alone, leaning into Jimin’s face a little. “I’m sorry, I know that man was an absolute—”

Jimin cuts off his words. He pulls Jeongguk into an embrace instead, wrapping his arms around the boy and burying his head into his neck. Nothing else matters right now, not even the man who made accusation towards his work, because Jeongguk proved him wrong and he’s standing right before Jimin.

Jeongguk seems surprised by the sudden surge of affection but he adapts well, pulling Jimin impossibly closer. He chuckles under his breath, snuggling into him.

“You’re worrying me, Jimin.”

Jimin just shakes his head, refusing to pull away from the hold.

“You’re here. You’re actually here.”

“I said I would be…”

“But you weren’t and I thought you weren’t showing up.”

“Hey, Jimin,” Jeongguk’s laughing a little as he forces their bodies to part so he can face Jimin, fixing him with another sincere smile. “I said I would, so I always will. I just got held up in traffic.”

“You didn’t text or call me to let me know.”

“I know… I’m sorry. I should’ve. But I’m here now.”

Jimin shakes his head and he can't resist but pull Jeongguk into another hug, not wanting to stop feeling the other man for the time being. Jeongguk doesn't seem to have any protests and obliges easily, pliant under the touch as he snuggles into him.

“You sure you're okay?”

“I'm fine now, trust me.” Jimin reassures.

When they pull away this time, Jeongguk’s shooting him with a smile and he nods. He leads them back to their exhibition and as they make the small walk, Jeongguk reaches out to hold Jimin’s hand. Jimin can't help the burst of euphoria that explodes within him, enlightening him.

When they get back to Jimin’s corner, Taehyung turns to face them.

His eyes wander from their faces down to their conjoined hands and doesn't comment, expression unreadable for a second before it spreads into a content, pleased smile.

The rest of the exhibition goes by smoothly. There's no mishaps, no angry men trying to accuse Jimin of plagiarism. It's serene and it's comfortable. Jeongguk, just like Taehyung, manages to attract attention and draw them in.

Jimin ends up with a fair amount of donations by the ending hour. Namjoon, also, manages to pitch a sale towards one of the viewers and sells one of Jimin’s nature pieces effortlessly, going off the shelf and towards the man.

Jimin hugs Namjoon, whispering his thanks over and over for such devoted, loyal friends. Namjoon only laughs and reassures it's the least he can do, promising that his work is worth everything.

When the night draws to an end, Namjoon excuses himself and leaves to go home to Hoseok. It leaves Taehyung and Jeongguk alone as they bicker and forth, pushing each other around as they ease the paintings off the walls and putting them back in the folders they had brought them over in. Jeongguk takes a moment with each piece he takes down, taking the liberty to allow his eyes to scan over them appreciatively.

Jimin watches him from afar, a certain kind of fondness dwelling deep inside of him but he redirects his attention elsewhere before it consumes him whole.

Once they're all packed up and ready to go, there's a knowing smile on Taehyung’s face.

“Um so I drove Jimin here in my Audi but if you guys want to go home together, you can?” Taehyung suggests, hands fiddling over the folder that he holds.

There’s implication behind Taehyung’s words that Jimin picks up on instantly, a smile creeping over his face. When he glances over to Jeongguk, it’s clear the other man has understood Taehyung’s words as well. He nods and shoos Taehyung away with a gesture of his hand.

“Get lost, then.”

Taehyung grins and before he walks off, he leans right into Jimin and embraces him. The hug is tight and long lasting, makes him feel warm and accepted. When Taehyung pulls away, there’s a glisten in his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you tonight, Jimin.” He says sincerely before he walks off in the other direction towards his car.

At long last, it’s just him and Jeongguk.

Jeongguk, without a word, reaches out and intertwines his fingers with Jimin. There’s no intent behind them than simply wanting to touch the other person, wanting to feel them and be close with them. Jimin hums in approval and he inches closer, not wanting to overstep but wanting to radiate off Jeongguk’s presence.

They walk hand-in-hand into the car park. Jeongguk unlocks his car and places the three folders he’s been holding inside before closing the boot.

They turn to look at each other.

Jimin’s leaning against the car door, looking up to Jeongguk with a suggestive smile. Nighttime is falling upon them steadily, the stars evident in the sky and everything feels straight out of a movie to Jimin right now. He had never, in his wildest dreams, imagined he’d get a chance to relive his exhibition night with Jeongguk by his side.

Last time, it had ended in tears. Tonight, it ends with the two of them looking at each other like they’d rather never look anywhere else again. Jimin observes Jeongguk’s expression that’s completely relaxed, the twinkle behind his dark brown orbs that ignites something within Jimin.

Jeongguk waits a beat before he’s stepping forward and presses their lips together.

Jimin shuffles backwards some more, making space for Jeongguk’s body as they kiss upon each other. It’s slow and intimate, Jeongguk’s hand cupping his cheeks and Jimin’s hand resting on his hips. Their tongues swipe against each other, the pace never increasing but remaining a controllable level.

It changes quickly, though.

Surely enough, Jimin becomes desperate and needy for more. He starts to roll his hips ever so slightly down on Jeongguk and the younger man gets the hint relatively fast.

“Backseat.” Jeongguk mumbles into his mouth.

Jimin nods in approval, moving away so he can open the door and slide in. Their hands wander over each other’s body like they’re rediscovering each other, clothes coming off in the enclosed space with some difficulty. But Jeongguk looks beautiful naked and he’s already half hard and Jimin can’t help but stroke him slowly.

“Do you have lube? Condoms?” Jimin’s asking as he kisses Jeongguk, muttering the words into his mouth.

The younger man nods and pulls away for the slightest second, leaning over the seats to reach for the glove box. He withdraws what they need and resumes their kissing, lips working over each other as Jeongguk slicks a finger and gently eases into Jimin.

Jeongguk takes his time to open up Jimin carefully, sucking bruises on his collarbones and every now and then, drifting upwards to sear their lips together. Jimin’s pliant and grows desperate with each passing second, moaning into Jeongguk’s mouth with every feel of the teeth pressing into his skin and the finger jostling further inside of him.

“You know you’re so beautiful?” Jeongguk’s whispering as he kisses Jimin’s pecks, biting down on his nipple and tugging harshly to draw whimpers from Jimin. “So talented. So beautiful. So proud of you.”

Jimin flushes with the compliments, turning to hide his head into the car seats as his cheeks burn up.

“Stop.”

“I’m serious.” The younger man says as he slicks up his cock, rolling the condom on and pushing into Jimin. “I really fucking mean it.”

Jeongguk takes his time, easing in inch by inch and never pushing too hard. He leans right in, resting his head in Jimin’s neck and whispering endless compliments, implanting the affection into Jimin as he begins to thrust.

The movement makes Jimin feel dizzy, his head heavy and the arousal pinging through his body, coursing through his blood. His own cock lays fully hard, neglected against his stomach as Jeongguk fucks him thoroughly, deeply but as a torturous state that has Jimin whining, begging for more.

“Please, please, baby. I need more.”

“I got you. I promise.”

Jeongguk lives up to his words, angling his thrusts upwards so he presses right up against Jimin’s prostate.

It has Jimin gasping out loud and another gurgle of sounds escaping his lips when Jeongguk reaches down for Jimin’s cock, jerking him off in time with his thrusts. It’s all consuming and invades every nerve in Jimin’s body, barely lasting another few minutes before he’s coming all over himself and Jeongguk’s hand.

Jeongguk’s marvelling at Jimin’s orgasm and a dozen thrusts later, he bottoms out and comes inside of Jimin.

They come down from their high, heavily panting on each other. Jeongguk collapses on top of Jimin and he instantly brings the younger man closer to him, wrapping an arm around his body and heaving him forward. They lay there in the car, listening to the ending bustle of the exhibition and the sounds of their breathing.

After a minute or so of comfortable silence, Jeongguk pulls up to look at him.

It looks like he wants to say something and he nearly does, his mouth opening to utter something before he shakes his head, resolutely clamping his mouth shut. Jimin doesn’t force him to speak, either. He hums and snuggles into Jeongguk further, completely and utterly satisfied as to where he is right now.

Chapter Text

The party store is crowded on a Saturday afternoon and Jimin tries not to get irritated when people keep bumping into him, barely apologising as they bustle past him. He clicks his tongue under his breath, his features twisting into annoyance. When he turns to glance on his right, Jeongguk’s watching him with amusement painting his face. He’s holding onto Yoongi to ensure the man doesn’t rest all his weight on his broken ankle, using Jeongguk as support.

“What?” Jimin almost snaps at him.

Jeongguk holds the spare hand that isn’t helping the older man up in surrender.

“Nothing, nothing at all.”

When Jimin had agreed to go birthday shopping for Taehyung’s party, he hadn’t anticipated to be stuck in traffic on the way and then barged around by inconsiderate shoppers. It’s all worth it—almost—when he looks over and sees Jeongguk staring at him every single time, a smile creeping over the man’s face.

Jimin holds a basket full of decorations. Yoongi, every few seconds, picks out something new and drops it in like there’s no money restrictions upon them. There’s banners, balloons, buntings, party poppers filling up the basket, making it heavy to hold as Jimin grunts around the store.

“Are you actually bothered?” Jeongguk approaches him when Yoongi wanders off, insisting he can walk on his own.

Jimin turns to face him, a smile twitching on his lips instinctively.

“A little,” he admits. “I don’t go shopping often.”

“D’you want me to hold that for you?” Jeongguk offers, glancing down to the basket.

“No, it’s fine—”

But Jimin barely gets a chance to finish his sentence. Jeongguk’s reaching out, taking it off his hands and tightening it in his hold. He scans over the products in the basket, whistling a little.

“Yoongi hyung’s surely going all out for Taehyung.”

Jimin hums in agreement. “It’s almost like hyung is in love with Taehyung.”

Jeongguk chokes out a laugh, raising a brow.

“Yoongi? In love? Hard to believe.”

They wander after Yoongi a few moments later, not allowing the older man to drift away for too long. It’s clear Jeongguk’s worrying about him, his eyes wearily following over his body as if he’s afraid the man will drop any second. Whenever Yoongi falters even for a second, Jeongguk’s hands reach out and stabilise his back. It’s admirable to watch. Jeongguk treats Yoongi like a father figure, an older brother and it makes Jimin feel warm all over.

“I think that’s enough,” Yoongi’s saying after he’s searched around the store twice. “Anything else you guys want to get?”

“What else can we possibly get?” Jeongguk deadpans.

Yoongi rolls his eyes and doesn’t bother to respond, walking over to the counter where there’s a long line of customers waiting to pay. Jimin watches Jeongguk walk off to another corner of the store and he finds his feet carrying him over there, following after him. Jeongguk’s fiddling with one of the party poppers, trying to figure out how to work it.

“Guk, maybe you shouldn’t—”

Jimin’s cut off, though. Jeongguk turns around and pops the streams right in his face, making him yelp at the loud noise that explodes just before him. He blinks a few times, considering his heart beat has just jumped.

“You asshole!”

Jeongguk pops another one, whilst Jimin’s off guard and ranting and Jimin’s had enough. The entire trip, Jeongguk has been mischievous, messing around. It’s clear that he’s trying to lighten up the mood but there’s only so much teasing Jimin can take before he snaps. Whilst Jeongguk’s giggling, Jimin pushes him against the wall of the store and kisses him senseless.

Jeongguk squeaks in surprise but adjusts to the kiss fairly quickly, parting his legs to allow Jimin’s body to accommodate his and his hands reaching out to cup Jimin’s neck.

They kiss like they’re not in a public place and there’s no lingering gazes at them. They kiss like it’s just the two of them, existing in a little bubble that only contains them. Jimin only gets spurred on further when Jeongguk moans into his mouth, a choked off sound that makes him deepen the kiss and roll his hips down.

“Wait, Jimin, wait,” Jeongguk’s whispering into his mouth, pulling away. “We’re in public, in a party shop.”

“That’s really going to stop you?”

Jeongguk leans further back, a glint in his eyes and a smirk taking over his lips.

“Patience, Jimin.”

Jimin lets out a sound deep within his throat, swatting his shoulder and moving away. Without daring to look back, he walks back to Yoongi. The older man doesn’t look in their direction but there’s a knowing smile fixed over his lips, staring straight ahead where they’re lining up to pay. When Jeongguk joins their side, Yoongi mumbles under his breath.

“I can’t believe I’m a fucking third wheel.”

“Deal with it, hyung.” Is Jeongguk’s immediate response.

Jimin feels the nape of his neck flush with a deep red colour, instinctively wanting to hide himself but being unable to do so. Neither of them speak as Yoongi walks over to the worker, handing over his heavy basket as their transaction carries through.

Jeongguk’s eyes keep wanders off to a far corner, his lips tighten and his easy-going expression almost wiping right off. Jimin follows his eye level but he isn’t met with anything incriminating.

“You okay?” He asks.

Jeongguk turns to face them just slightly and shakes his head.

“We gotta get out of here.”

Yoongi must’ve heard and understood because he quickly swipes his credit card and starts steering them all out of the store. Jeongguk grabs ahold of the carrier bags so tightly, it must be cutting right into the palm of his hands.

“What’s going on?” Jimin asks, once again, once they’re outside.

Jeongguk turns to look at him with a tormented look.

“Someone was staring at us, looked like someone from the underground circle. We’re not going to take any risks and we sure as hell aren’t going to fight in public, in a store nonetheless.” Jeongguk’s saying without a moment of pause, the words scrambling out of him as he begins to speed walk. “We need to get out of here, as soon as possible.”

Jimin’s heart drops and he finds himself craning his neck, trying to spot the man they’re talking about. He hadn’t noticed anything but it’s a clear sign of concern if Yoongi’s clenched jaw and Jeongguk’s accelerated walking is any indicator.

Jimin follows after them and keeps his gaze diverted downwards, not looking anywhere else and not wanting to draw any attention towards them.

Jeongguk leads them back to his car, holding the passenger door open for Yoongi and helping him in. He glances back to Jimin, offering a small smile.

“You’re with me. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Jimin wants to believe him, he really does. But he knows Jeongguk can’t always protect them, he can’t always hold them down. Sometimes, even Jeongguk can lose control and whilst there’s nothing wrong with that, it means it doesn’t give Jimin the luxury to completely unwind down.

He climbs into the backseat, ignoring Jeongguk’s worried looks. Instead, he tunes out and focuses on the city of Seoul blurring in the car window as Jeongguk drives hastily out of the area.

Yoongi’s head rolled back against his seat, eyes shut. “We need to talk to Seokjin.” He says after a moment of silence.

Jeongguk barely takes his eyes off the road but nods in agreement.

“What will hyung say?” He asks.

“I don’t know but he’ll look into it, I’m sure.”

Jimin, once again, feels out of loop but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t protest. He waits for Jeongguk to drop Yoongi back at his apartment, helping the man back into his building before prompting Jimin to sit up front with him.

They’re alone together and Jimin feels electric, feeling Jeongguk’s intense gaze burning into his soul.

“You okay?” Jeongguk asks.

“I could ask you the same.”

“I’m fine.”

There’s a reassuring tone and Jimin indulges in it. He’s spent the better half of the past few months just worrying all the time. Ever since he had the privilege to walk into Jeongguk’s life, it’s been accompanied with endless concerns that he readily pours onto other people. He worries about Jeongguk, about Taehyung, about Yoongi and sometimes, even himself. He knows how dangerous their world is.

“When do you start work?” Jeongguk mumbles as he starts to drive away from Yoongi’s apartment.

“In an hour.”

Jeongguk doesn’t seem pleased about the prospects of dropping Jimin off to the club but he doesn’t protest, either. Recently, he’s been adamant on learning more about Jimin’s job. He asks questions, he wants to drop him off, he wants to visit during his shift. It’s unnerving to Jimin as to why he’s taking so much interest.

There’s a reason why Jimin wants to conceal his job so much.

It’s not just a job. It’s more than that. It’s a man holding a stake of Jimin, owning him completely. It’s a hopeless, ever ending ditch and Jimin’s ashamed of it.

He hates his family history. He despises, with every part of his being, his father and he hates how he’s living every single day to live up to his father’s mistakes. He’s reduced down to a sum of money at the end of the day when Jaesun’s eyes wander over him and cuts him thirty percent, or less, of the money he earned all himself.

“I’m dropping you off.”

Jimin sighs and he doesn’t argue, knowing he won’t win.

They drive around for a while. Jeongguk keeps the car radio at a comfortable level so they can converse back and forth without having to raise their voices. There’s no destination in sight. It’s relaxing to just watch the world through the windows, observe the people walking past and watching Jeongguk humming under his breath and drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

When thirty minute passes and Jeongguk begins to make the drive towards the strip club, Jimin feels his insides sinking.

It’s always disappointing to leave a enjoyable situation to one that drains him of his energy, demands more than he can give. It’s always hard to leave Jeongguk’s company and give his time to men who tug and pull at him, take from his body and never return.

“You okay?” Jeongguk asks once he comes to a stop outside the club.

Jimin shrugs, resisting the sigh that threatens to escape his lip. He grabs his outfit that’s in the backseat, holding it under his armpits.

“Am I ever okay before I leave for work?”

Jeongguk’s smile falls and disturbance takes over his features, letting out a small groan under his breath. He takes a moment to compose himself before turning to face Jimin, cupping his cheeks and leaning in.

“I’m sorry, Jimin.” He says so fiercely, his voice holding nothing but the utmost sympathy. Jeongguk doesn’t even know why Jimin hates work so much and he still tries relate emotionally. “I’ll be here to pick you up, yeah?”

Jeongguk leans in when he finishes his sentence and plants a small kiss on Jimin’s lips.

Jimin knows it’s the last bit of affection he’ll get for the next seven hours, the only sweetness he’ll experience before men start to demand from him. He tries to revel in the kiss whilst he can, softening under his hold and moaning softly into Jeongguk’s mouth. When he pulls away, Jeongguk’s eyes have darkened considerably.

He barely moves an inch and his lips drift lower, kissing Jimin’s jawline and down to his neck.

Jimin barely has a moment to collect himself from the way his breathing has quickened when he feels teeth sinking down into his neck, right where it’s visible and impossible to conceal.

“Guk.”

“Let them know who you belong to,” Jeongguk’s whispering as he finishes sucking a hickey, kissing soothingly over it and resuming to suck another. “Let them know they can’t fuck with you. Let them see.”

“Baby...” Jimin whimpers.

The hickeys borders onto painful but it’s all welcomed. When Jeongguk licks over the marks, he pulls away with a small smile.

“You look better like that, with my marks on you.”

Jimin can barely contain the flush that takes over his cheeks, trying to hide the colour but Jeongguk doesn’t let him. He shakes his head, cupping his cheeks and leaning in for another kiss. This time, there’s a hint of urgency behind how their tongues swipe against each other needily.

“I’m gonna be late.” Jimin withdraws.

Jeongguk understands because he pulls back all the way, settling in his seat. He looks over to Jimin with a smile sprawled across his lips, nodding.

“I’ll be here in seven hours.”

The certainty in his voice makes it worthwhile. Jimin knows after everything, in the end, he’ll be able to get back into this same car and bask under Jeongguk’s attention. He offers one last smile before he’s climbing out of the car, into the strip club and watching the car fade into the distance.

The club, as always, is insufferable.

It doesn’t help that it’s the weekend which means naturally, there’s more influx of customers wandering in and demanding drinks, dances and acting like they own the place.

Jimin swallows the pill handed to him as soon as he walks through the door and clocks in for his shift and tries to navigate with a fuzzy headspace and heightened senses. He thinks about only Jeongguk when he grinds upon older men, acting like he’s aroused just for them when all he can feel is Jeongguk’s lips and how they taste. His lips are still tingling from, feeling drunk off Jeongguk.

It helps to pass the time. It almost doesn’t feel as burdening when his thoughts remain occupied elsewhere, helping him get through the hours.

It’s only when he’s taking his work break, standing outside the club in the cold air and smoking a cigarette when he notices the girl he had suspicions of before. Sun. She’s beautiful, as he remembers. She leans against the wall, on her own, and she’s also nursing a cigarette of her own.

She’s dressed in lacy lingerie but she’s covering her body with a baggy sweater, hiding away most of her. She’s so petite, almost like she’ll get blown away if the winds were any harsher. Sun’s eyes are tight and narrowed, lips pressed into an uninviting line as she takes another drag and angles her head upwards, blowing out the smoke.

Jimin takes a moment to allow his eyes to scan over her.

She shares many features that Jeongguk does. His eyes, the shape of his lips, even the bridge of his nose. It’s uncanny and Jimin can’t help but make it painfully obvious that he’s staring for a long while now.

Sun notices because she turns to look at him, an impassive look taking over her face and not a single feature shifting.

“Can I help you?”

Even her voice is startlingly similar to Jeongguk’s. Jimin’s throat grows thick as he attempts to swallow down the unease, nimble fingers fiddling over the cigarette still resting between his fingers. Sun is staring straight into his soul.

“H-hi. I’m Jimin.”

Sun blinks. “Okay.”

The same aloofness, too.

“I’ve never seen you around.”

“You haven’t?” Sun seems amused, tilting her head to the side. This time, she allows herself the courtesy to look over Jimin properly. She analyses every part of his being, his body before glancing back to his eyes. She still looks heavily unimpressed. “You saw me the other day, in Jaesun’s office.”

“Right. But besides that, I’ve never seen you working.”

Sun licks her lips, staring off into the distance.

“I don’t work here, that’s why.” She laughs. “Not before, anyway. I only transferred here recently.”

“Transferred?”

There’s a twinkle behind Sun’s eyes that clearly indicates she finds this ordeal amusing.

“Aren’t you curious?”

Jimin hums. He is curious but not because he’s interested in the girl, that’s far from the truth. He’s curious because every time he looks towards Sun, he can’t help but envision he’s talking to Jeongguk. The same voice, the same habits, the same features. It’s remarkable.

“Perhaps, I am.” Jimin says after a beat.

“I’ve been working for Jaesun for a while, just not in his public clubs. More privately, y’know?”

Jimin doesn’t know. He doesn’t understand. He blinks in confusion.

“You’ve lost me.”

“I was homeless and helpless. Jaesun found me, offered me a live-in job and I fucking took it,” Sun clarifies, rolling her eyes and pauses to take a drag of her cigarette. “What’s so hard to understand about that?”

“Live-in job?”

Sun doesn’t respond this time, though. She doesn’t seem to want to expand upon her point and allows the weight of her words linger between them as she smokes quietly. Jimin’s heart is hammering against his chest and he wouldn’t be surprised if it’s noticeable between the two of them.

The bustle inside the club has reduced down to a dull thud. Nothing seems to matter right now.

“Are you staying here for a while, then?” Jimin brings up conversation, again, when the silence becomes uncomfortable.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Don’t your… um, family or friends like, have anything to say about it?”

Jimin approaches the topic as tentatively as possible, trying to gauge her reaction so he can draw his own conclusions. He knows once, and for all, whether his skepticism are right or wrong by how she responds.

There’s a long pause and when Sun turns to face him, there’s a hint of something dangerous behind her eyes.

“You’re fucking nosey.”

Jimin attempts to grin, acting laid-back.

“Forgive me if I like to know more about my co-workers. If we’re working together, we might as well talk. Who do we have besides each other?”

It takes a moment for the words to process into Sun because her expression shifts from uncomfortable to somewhat empathetic. She turns to face Jimin and the previous hard exterior she had been holding in place so furiously slips, just the slightest.

“At least you know we don’t have anyone else, if we work here,” Sun laughs but it sounds bitter. “We’re nothing but our jobs.” Jimin wants to argue but he doesn’t let his composure slip. “I have no family so they can’t say anything about it, can they?”

“No family?” He repeats.

“Dead mother.” Sun lists, holding a hand up as she counts on her fingers. “Dead father. Brother on the run, disappeared since… shit, I don’t know, fucking years. Who the fuck knows? Probably dead brother, too.”

Jimin halts. He doesn’t know much about Jeongguk’s life but Sun talks about it so abruptly, so openly—it makes his heart ache. Jimin wonders if this is actually Jeongguk’s sister and he can’t imagine how much pain Jeongguk has had to burden, losing both his parents and a sister who thinks he’s also dead.

He waits a minute.

“I’m sorry. That really sucks.”

“It is what it is, isn’t it?” Sun scoffs, turning to look at him. “What about you, your family?”

“No family either.”

“A shame.”

“Your brother… the one who disappeared,” Jimin brings the conversation back to the point, gently skirting around the issue. “If you don’t know whether he’s alive or not, why don’t you look for him?”

Anguish floods Sun’s eyes and even if her features refuse to shift, her orbs speak more words than her mouth ever could. She doesn’t reply for a minute, keeping a heavy tension thick between them. Finally, she sighs.

“Where would I even start?”

“Well, do you remember his name? That’d be a good place to start.”

“I do… yeah.”

Before Jimin can ask, or implore some more information, their conversation is interrupted. A worker, directly underneath Jaesun’s orders, approaches them and informs them that their break is over.

“Hey, wait—” Jimin attempts but fails, watching Sun disappear into the club without a word.

After his shift, Jimin barely has a few minutes to look around for Sun. He checks every lingering corner of the club, the toilets, the staff rooms but she’s nowhere to be found. He has a glimpse of hope when he turns up to Jaesun’s office with the wad of cash in his hand but it’s crushed when it’s just the man, alone, organising his drugs.

When Jimin leaves the club and enters Jeongguk’s car, he can’t help the guilt that crosses him when Jeongguk pulls him in for a kiss.

Jimin can’t remove the guilt even when Jeongguk drops him back to his house, promising to see each other soon for Taehyung’s birthday. He waves goodbye to Jeongguk until the car has disappeared out of sight, feeling remorse heavy on his chest. He, potentially, has met Jeongguk’s sister and talked to her and yet, he’s not telling Jeongguk.

As soon as he’s alone in his bedroom, he texts Yoongi.

‘The girl that I thought was Jeongguk’s sister opened up to me. She said she has a dead mother, dead father and she thinks her brother is dead too. I think it’s Guk’s sister. I don’t know what to do.’

He settles down into his bed, chest aching with the mere thought of interacting with Sun. The girl is young, definitely underage undoubtedly, and she’s been working for Jaesun directly within the four walls of his home. The entire prospect makes Jimin’s organs shrink with the pain.

Yoongi replies comes within a few minutes.

‘Let me handle it. I’ll find her and talk to her. Thanks, Jimin.’

It doesn’t calm any of the turmoil that Jimin’s currently experiencing but knowing that Yoongi is going to take care of the problem helps him eventually ease into sleep.

The apartment has been completely decked out for Taehyung’s birthday.

Jeongguk has been working tirelessly since the minute Taehyung left the apartment in the morning for university classes, barely mentioning his own birthday. Yoongi had downplayed the entire ordeal, suggesting they go for a dinner tonight to celebrate his birthday. Taehyung had shrugged, claiming there’s more important things they need to deal with than waste time on his birthday.

It makes the surprise even more exciting now.

Taehyung has always been selfless. Ever when he was residing in Daegu, he had given up his life for his father who was crippled with mental illnesses, taking care of his siblings and his grandmother when his parents failed. Taehyung who gives up his own emotions for Jeongguk readily every single time, for Yoongi, even for Jimin. Taehyung never spares a thought for himself.

Tonight is all for Taehyung.

There’s balloons scattered across the living room, some pinned up and some lazing on the floor. Yoongi has added buntings around the walls, decorating every inch of the bare walls. The table has been taken over by assorted selection of alcohol bottles, ranging from wine to cheap liquor and half dozen pizza boxes for snacks.

Seokjin arrives not much longer afterwards. He brings a large chocolate cake with him for later, so they can cut it together and takes over so Yoongi can rest his healing ankle as he and Jeongguk complete the rest of the apartment.

Five hours later, everything is ready. All that’s left is for guests to arrive and the man of the hour himself.

Yoongi seems pleased with himself as he glances around the room, taking in the adornment and humming in approval.

“We did good, guys. Taehyung’s really going to love this.”

Jeongguk nods in agreement. He can practically envision Taehyung walking through the door and noticing everything, realising that tonight is just for him. His heart expands five times in size at the thought.

The first of the guests start arriving.

Jeongguk doesn’t recognise some of them, people from Taehyung’s classes and former workplaces but he welcomes them all. It’s unusual for him to have to spend time with new people but he attempts to make everyone comfortable in his personal space, pouring out the drinks and willing everyone to loosen up. Soon enough, people start interacting and there’s no hazy boundary of who’s who, everyone talks to each other. Yoongi sits on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand, an anxious smile sprawled across his lips and Jeongguk can’t help but wonder why the man is jittery with the nerves.

Seokjin, on the other hand, has a knowing smile on his face.

“Yoongi sure cares for Taehyung, huh?” There’s hints of obvious amusement in his tone.

Jeongguk nods slowly. “Yeah, I guess so.”

It’s all worth the while when finally, Jimin walks through the door.

Jimin’s dressed in his finest clothes. He’s wearing a silk black button-down, paired together with a black blazer with red embroidery. The best of all, he has a silk collar wrapped tightly around his neck that must surely make it hard to draw breaths comfortably. His thighs looks heavenly in the tight jeans he wears, strutting them off exceptionally beautifully. Jimin is ethereal, standing in Jeongguk’s apartment, drawing everyone’s attention and Jeongguk feels blessed.

Jimin looks up and scavenges for Jeongguk’s eye contact. When their eyes meet, Jimin’s lips melt into a pleased smile.

In tow with Jimin are his roommates, Hoseok and Namjoon. They look a little out of place but nonetheless, seemingly prepared to party in their attire and both holding a bottle of vodka to contribute to the party. Jeongguk walks over to them, smiling at the older roommates out of respect.

“Hey,” Jeongguk greets them. “I’m glad you could make it.”

Hoseok shrugs. “You’re still an asshole but free alcohol, so I’m here.”

He barely takes heed to the insult, laughing.

“Sure. Free alcohol for everyone.”

Hoseok and Namjoon wander into the apartment, arm-in-arm, as they walk over the kitchen. Jeongguk’s eye line follows their bodies for a few minutes, watching how Hoseok immediately reaches for the pizza box and picks out two slices for himself. Namjoon instantly edges for the cider bottles, grabbing two in both hands.

A laugh escapes from Jimin’s laugh as he observes too.

“They’re crazy!” He complains.

Jeongguk’s head snaps back to the beautiful boy when he speaks, tilting his head to the side as he allows his eyes to look over Jimin luxuriously. Now that it’s just the two of them, he can’t help but want to admire Jimin entirely.

“You’re gorgeous.” Is all he says in reply.

Jimin’s laughter stops, his eyes widening as he looks up to Jeongguk. Awe registers in his features, his cheeks flushing with a slight pink colour. He holds out a box in his hands, wrapped up prettily and complete with a box.

“This is for Taehyung. Can we hide it in your room before he gets here?”

Jeongguk nods affirmatively, taking the box out of his hands.

“Come with me.”

Jimin walks right behind him as they navigate through the crowded apartment. People are already beginning to get tipsy, bodies swaying in beat to the music that Seokjin had selected specifically for the party. Jimin’s body presses up against Jeongguk and a jolt of fervor goes through his body, making him shudder as he reaches his bedroom, opening the door and throwing the box in.

When he closes it and faces Jimin again, he’s being pushed into the closed door.

Jimin’s lips are on his without a moments of hesitation and if Jeongguk ever had doubts that he’d get used to this, he was wrong. Every time Jimin kisses him, it feels new. It feels fresh. It ignites something within Jeongguk that he can’t describe in words. His hand wanders down Jimin’s broad back, feeling over his body and reaching down for his ass as he squeezes between his fingers.

Jimin gasps into his mouth and then promptly pulls away.

“Later.” He promises with a wink.

Jeongguk groans as he hits his head against the wood, shutting his eyes for a second.

“Giving me a little taste before you give it up for me?”

Jimin rolls his eyes, deciding not to reply as he walks away. He looks over his shoulder only to throw another distinct wink at him, disappearing into the crowd and wandering back to his hyung’s who’re already steadily pouring down the drinks.

Jeongguk gives himself a moment or two.

He has to adjust himself so it’s not blatantly obvious that he’s sporting a half hard-on as he wanders back to the centre of the apartment.

When he gets the text from Taehyung that he’s on his way home, the bustle of the apartment dies down. They cut off the lights and they all hide behind the counters, behind the couch, in the bedrooms. Jeongguk feels a tingle creep down his spine with each passing second, counting backwards in his mind as he hears Taehyung’s heavy footsteps come up the stairs.

“Everyone, prepare!” Yoongi’s whisper-yelling into the darkness.

Taehyung’s whistling absentmindedly as he unlocks the door to the apartment and opens.

Even with the lights off, Jeongguk can clearly see the bewilderment that registers in Taehyung’s features immediately.

“Um…” Taehyung whispers under his breath and before he can reach for the lights to figure out what’s going on, they switch on courtesy to Seokjin and everyone’s jumping out, yelling surprise.

Taehyung yelps, startled as he drops the bag in his hand.

“What the fuck!”

Jeongguk explodes into laughter, stepping from the kitchen to face him. He has a party hat ready in his hand, walking over to Taehyung and pulling him into an embrace. He feels Taehyung relaxing in his hold as acceptance of the surprise party begins to settle into him.

“Surprise, my darling,” Jeongguk’s whispering to him as he pulls away, placing the hat onto his messy hair.

Taehyung’s blinking rapidly, completely taken aback.

His eyes scan across the room a few times, taking everything in.

“Did you… did you organise this?” Taehyung asks.

Yoongi steps in from the shadows, shaking his head.

“I did,” he says. “I need to make that clear before Jeongguk claims this effort as his own but he’s helped me set up the party.”

Taehyung swallows audibly, tears welling up in his eyes as he glances around again. His eye meets with Jimin who sits in the far corner, settled in Namjoon’s lap and a glass of vodka and coke in his hand. Upon seeing Jimin, the tear rolls down his cheek.

“You - you did this for me?” He confirms.

Yoongi coos as he steps closer, also pulling Taehyung into a hug.

“All for you. I can’t name a person more deserving. Happy birthday, Taehyung.”

On cue, the entire room starts singing Taehyung happy birthday and the man has to hide his face in his hands to prevent everyone observing how he’s began to cry steadily. Jeongguk reaches over to wipe away the moisture, steering him into the kitchen where Yoongi and Seokjin follow devotedly.

When Jeongguk looks up, Jimin’s making his way towards them too. He reaches them and instantly settles towards Jeongguk, into his side. Jeongguk pulls Jimin closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Taehyung smiles at the clear sign of public display of affection between them, sniffling under his breath.

“I can’t believe you guys!” He complains. “This wasn’t necessary, at all!”

Yoongi chides, shaking his head as he reaches forward and takes Taehyung’s hand into his.

It shocks Jeongguk but he doesn’t voice any words, refusing to acknowledge the tender touch shared between the two men. Instead, he focuses on bringing Jimin even more impossibly closer to his body which Jimin leans into.

“It is the most necessary.” Yoongi offers a squeeze to his hand before withdrawing, seemingly shocked at his own actions for a second. “I need you to understand how much we appreciate and love you, Taehyung. We’d be nowhere without you, we’d literally be dead. You never give yourself the time and tonight, we want to give you all the fucking time we have. Tonight, it’s about you.”

“Cheers!” Seokjin immediately lets out after Yoongi’s speech, raising the glass in his hand.

“Cheers!” Jimin and Jeongguk say in unison, Jimin holding up his glass too.

Taehyung flushes some more, floating from the attention. He pours himself a glass of white wine and raising it in the air at the same time, clinking their glasses and downing the drink down in one go.

They all rotate throughout the room for the next hour or so, drinking back and forth and at some point, the music changes to an upbeat song. Everyone starts dancing upon each other, the room becoming stuffy and sweaty.

When Jeongguk turns to face Jimin, the boy is already looking at him suggestively.

They walk up to each other and Jeongguk grabs Jimin’s waist, pulling the boy flush to his body. Jimin obliges easily, eyes fluttering shut as a small laugh escapes his lips. He leans right in, burying his nose in Jeongguk’s neck and inhaling him in as he works his hips in tight, little circles. Jeongguk groans at the friction and works his own back, meeting Jimin half way.

“Did I mention how good this blazer looks on you?” Jeongguk whispers into his ear, tugging on the lobe between his teeth. His hands wander underneath the blazer, feeling over the silk shirt.

Jimin tilts his head, giving him access before he shrugs.

“Think this is the first time tonight.”

Jeongguk hums as his hands travel upwards, on the nape of his neck and harshly pulling on the collar pulled taut on Jimin’s throat. He watches Jimin’s Apple’s adam bopping, reacting instantly to the touch.

“Can you even breathe with this on?”

Jimin grinds down purposely at that.

“Yeah, I can. A little restricted.”

“I fucking bet.” Jeongguk pulls harder at that, feeling the arousal growing within him.

(Mood: Rixton - We All Want The Same Things)

They dance on each other for a while longer. Jimin knows how to use his body—undoubtedly—and he does it effortlessly, grinding his hips down at the right times and his body rolls leaving Jeongguk completely speechless for a few moments. Jeongguk attempts to keep up but he finds himself unable to do so, jaw slackening often every time Jimin shoots him a sultry smile.

He barely lasts another minute before he’s grabbing ahold of Jimin’s forearm and pulling him away from the crowd, towards his bedroom again.

Jimin follows instantly and without complaint, giggling under his breath.

“That’s all it takes to get you riled up?” He teases.

Jeongguk tuts, deciding against replying for the time being. He switches on the lights and gently pushes Jimin in, slamming the door behind him and locking. When he turns back around, his breath is knocked right out of him because Jimin’s sinking to his knees without a second to spare.

“J-Jimin,” Jeongguk chokes out.

Jimin’s biting his lip in an seductive manner, looking up to him through his lashes. He looks like an angel, just for Jeongguk on his knees and shuffling forward, his moppy blonde hair falling over his forehead.

Jeongguk runs a hand through the soft strands, tugging his head up hard so their contact remains on each other. There’s a certain intensity that’s evident behind Jimin’s expression, neediness pouring through.

“Please, Guk. Wanna suck you off so fucking bad.”

How can Jeongguk deny him a single thing?

When Jimin gets his approval, he shrugs off his own blazer and throwing it one side before he resumes his attention to Jeongguk. He uses his teeth to pull the zip down of Jeongguk’s jeans, making Jeongguk groan and throw his head back in disbelief. Jimin’s taking his time, like there’s not a party they need to be present at, hands wandering over Jeongguk’s thighs as he gently exposes his fully hard cock.

“Mmm.” Jimin hums, eyes lustful as he looks up for a second before leaning in and taking Jeongguk into his mouth.

There’s no build-up, there’s no tenderness about the movement. They’re on limited time and it’s fairly obvious to Jimin because he takes Jeongguk all the way down, choking only for a second before he wills his throat to relax.

Jeongguk’s letting out a string of nonsensical words, eyes squeezing shut at the sensation. Heat envelopes him and his stomach tightens in anticipation, hands brushing through Jimin’s hand for reigns.

Jimin bops up and down, eyes wide open so Jeongguk can see the way tears build up in his eyes.

When Jimin stops all motion and sits back a little, it’s clear what he wants. Jeongguk takes the hint instantly, pushing himself off the wall so he can clench on his strands and start pushing back into Jimin’s greedy mouth. As much as it pleases him, it also serves to please Jimin, too. Jimin’s teary eyes grow wider, staring up to Jeongguk with a certain adoration behind them.

“F-fuck, Jimin,” Jeongguk whimpers. He’s embarrassingly close to his orgasm, already. “Your mouth is amazing, babe.”

Jimin purrs, even with a mouthful of Jeongguk’s dick and that’s the last straw for Jeongguk.

He thrusts down a half dozen times more before he holds Jimin down, coming down his throat. Jimin struggles for a moment before he swallows every drop of his come, pulling back a moment later and sitting back on his hunches. He looks fucked out and blissful, eyes closed.

The front of his jeans look painfully tight and Jeongguk knows exactly what to do.

“C’mere.” He demands.

Jeongguk sits down on the floor, back against the wall and crosses his legs. He pats his lap and Jimin seems relatively confused but he follows the order anyway, scooting forward and climbing into his warmth.

Jeongguk hands wander over the prominent bulge, eyes fixed on Jimin.

“Are you hard, baby?” He asks though the answer is clear to anyone.

Jimin whimpers at the touch, leaning in and grinding down lazily.

“So, so hard.”

“Why don’t you beg for it, Jimin? Tell me how bad you need me to touch you.”

His breath hitches but his mouth remains stubbornly shut, still grinding down. Jeongguk doesn’t increase his hold, doesn’t initiate anything. He simply rubs over the rough material of the jeans, knowing the touch must be torturous for Jimin, bordering on pleasurable but simply not enough.

“Guk.” He warns.

“You made me beg, so you can as well. Beg for me, Jimin.”

“Jeongguk.”

“C’mon,” Jeongguk clicks his tongue, rubbing just the slightest bit harder to watch Jimin’s eyes roll to the back of his head. “I know you want me. I know you need me.”

That seems to break Jimin because he leans right into Jeongguk’s ears, voice a hushed whisper.

“Please, baby. I’m so hard just from you fucking my throat.” The words are a scrambled mess but they still kindle a flame within Jeongguk. “I need you to touch me, Jeongguk. Please, please touch me.”

Jeongguk kisses his neck a few times, peppering him with kisses until he finally eases Jimin out of his jeans. He reaches for his fully hard cock and starts stroking him. Their wrapped up in each other’s embrace, Jimin whimpering with each stroke and moans every time Jeongguk tightens his hold.

It takes him barely a few minutes before he’s coming with a cry of Jeongguk’s name, making a mess in his hand.

“Jesus, Jimin.”

Jimin smirks and he grabs Jeongguk’s hand, lifting it to his lips as he sucks on the come covered fingers with a lewd sound escaping his lips. Jeongguk may have just climaxed a few minutes ago but his cock twitches with arousal again just by the sight.

He pulls Jimin into a searing, passionate kiss as the taste of come is transferred between the two of them.

They spend what feels like a lifetime, but not nearly enough, just feeling each other and kissing until eventually, Jimin pulls himself away. He has a content smile sprawled across his lips, stretching his arms out and grabbing his jeans to pull them back on.

“Time to cut the cake?” Jimin suggests, voice a little hoarse.

“Good plan.”

They emerge from the room and Jeongguk’s sure they have remnants of sex lingering all over them because Seokjin’s giving him a knowing, unimpressed hard look before he draws everyone’s attention towards them.

“It’s time to cut the cake, fuckers!” Seokjin announces.

At the mention of the baked good, everyone begins to gather around the table.

Taehyung’s still blushing when he walks over, Yoongi in tow.

“You got me a cake, too?” Taehyung giggles, seemingly high off the attention he’s been getting all night. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“Of course we did!”

The cake was chosen by Jeongguk, himself. It’s a square-shaped cake, a baby picture of chubby Taehyung printed right on the front with scribbly icing written across courtesy of Yoongi. It has royal blue icing along the side and flower edible decorations adorning around the picture. Taehyung admires it with a happy sigh.

“I love you all so much.” He mumbles affectionately, eyes watering up again.

Yoongi gives him a back hug, settling his head into the crook of his neck as everyone starts singing happy birthday.

Namjoon and Hoseok approach Jimin and steal him away, leaving Jeongguk standing alone. He can’t bring himself to be bothered because when he glances over and sees the two older men messing around with Jimin, making him burst into fits of laughter—he feels nothing but warmth. All he wants is for Jimin to be happy.

Taehyung blows out the candle and everyone erupts into applauds, making Taehyung bow to them all. He cuts out a piece for everyone, going around the room and feeding. He goes for Jeongguk first, smearing the icing across Jeongguk’s cheeks with a mischievous giggle and then to Yoongi, Seokjin and Jimin.

Jeongguk excuses himself for a moment to go outside and take a smoking break, slipping out of the apartment without a sound.

He soaks in the serenity of the quietness outside, mind still flooding of Jimin and the sound of his moans as he smokes happily. He can’t help the insistent smile that threatens to take over, tingling his insides and making him feel elated. Nothing compares to this feeling.

When Jeongguk puts out his cigarette and goes back upstairs, he catches eye of Taehyung… and Yoongi.

They’re standing outside the apartment, near the stairs.

Yoongi has Taehyung pushed up against the wall and they’re kissing intensely, moaning so loud that he’s sure the party inside could possibly hear. Yoongi’s hands are buried in Taehyung’s hair and Taehyung’s on his waist, squeezing uncomfortably tight. It seems desperate in all sense and Jeongguk decides not to comment, slipping past them without being noticed and stepping back into the apartment.

The party is still in full swing, ongoing and the life is present.

Jeongguk walks over the counter, grabbing himself another glass of vodka lemonade as he drifts through the people surrounding the room. He walks closer to where Jimin sits by his two friends but pauses when he hears the conversation between them, trying to listen in to the hushed tones.

“Listen, I know this isn’t the time,” Hoseok’s saying. “But how much longer are you going to be indebted to Jaesun?”

Jeongguk halts and he hides his body effectively, still eavesdropping. Indebted? Jimin’s indebted to someone?

Jimin sighs out loud. His voice shows that he’s already tired of the conversation at hand.

“Hyung, seriously. My manager practically owns me. Can we not talk about this right now? Not when I’m seriously tipsy and having fun for once?”

“Well, excuse me but I’m concerned! Only yesterday, you were telling me you’re worried because you think it’s never going to end. Haven’t you earned enough money to pay him back, yet?”

“Because it won’t,” Jimin’s voice turns to steel. It’s cold and distant. “Jaesun’s going to make me his bitch for the rest of his life, don’t you get it? I’m his. Why else would he let people bruise me up, huh? Can we drop it?”

Jeongguk’s blood runs cold and his eyes widen, instinctively tightening his hand over the glass he holds. He can hear remnants of the conversation, still. Hoseok’s lecturing Jimin who doesn’t seem to be addressing any of the words Hoseok supplies. Jeongguk tries his hardest to tune in but most of his attention had went right out of the window the minute Jimin had finished talking.

His manager owns Jimin? Jimin owes him a debt? That’s why he needed to learn how to fight, to defend himself against his manager?

It all seems to click to Jeongguk, now. He begins to put two and two together. Jimin’s reluctance to go into work every single time, only returning back out with fresh bruises that scatter across his skin. Jimin’s objection to wanting to talk about the future, to talk about quitting his job and starting elsewhere. The questions that Jeongguk had, himself, about his workplace almost makes sense now.

His thoughts torment him and he can’t seem to figure out what’s going on. He just knows he can’t stand here and listen for a second longer.

Jeongguk starts to walk away from them without ever revealing himself. He drowns his cup and immediately reaches for the next drink, sipping it back hastily. Seokjin notices his troubled expression because he walks over, remaining by his side for the next hour. Jeongguk refuses to look towards Jimin’s direction, quietly dwelling on his thoughts.

Yoongi and Taehyung wander back in not longer after. Both of their hair are ruffled, their lips bitten raw and a dazzling smile spread across their lips. Jeongguk wants to share their newfound happiness but he can’t.

Not when all he can think about Jimin.

The night begins to draw to a close as guests begin to filter out one-by-one. Jeongguk says goodbye to everyone, feeling the words come out of his mouth on auto tune and not sounding sincere at all.

He’s startled when he feels an arm wrap around his waist, drawing him out of his haze.

Jimin’s leaning into him from behind, smelling of alcohol but looking every bit exquisite as he had when he had walked in. He tightens his arm around Jeongguk and nuzzles into him.

“I have to leave soon, too.” He informs.

Jeongguk attempts not to stiffen in his arms, nodding.

“Sure.”

Jimin seems to instantly notice something’s wrong because he twirls Jeongguk around so they can face each other, furrowing his brow in question.

“Um. Are you okay, Guk?”

Jeongguk nods, pulling out of his embrace and running a hand through his hair.

“Absolutely fine.”

“A-are you sure?”

“I’m fine, Jimin.” His tone leaves no room for arguments and Jimin seems to notice that.

He doesn’t seem pleased but he doesn’t press the topic, lips pulling into a tight line as he nods.

“I’ll see you soon?” Jimin suggests, almost hesitant.

Jeongguk hates that he’s, once again, the reason behind Jimin’s expression. He hates to be the one to put anything but complete joy there. He needs a moment to process what he’s learnt tonight. He needs space.

“Of course.”

Jimin smiles though it seems unsure. When he leans in and kisses Jeongguk, there’s barely any sentiment behind it. Jeongguk watches Jimin walk out with Hoseok and Namjoon in tow, his face distressed and Jeongguk wants to punch a wall. He wants to hurt. Instead, he numbly begins to clear up the apartment and pushes the thoughts away.

When Jimin gets home after the party, there’s a gut feeling that dwells within him. Something is wrong. Over the past few weeks, he’s become accustomed a touchy Jeongguk, one that can’t get enough Jimin and the feeling is mutual.

Their departure from the party felt unnatural to the interactions they’ve been having recently, it felt unnatural to the dynamics they had begun to adapt between each other.

He lays in his bed and even with a heavy head and dulled senses, still relatively tipsy—he grabs his phone.

He dials Jeongguk’s number and gets voicemail both times. He waits for the beep before he clears his throat, beginning to speak. Jimin hates how needy his tone comes out over the line.

“Jeongguk,” Jimin says with a small smile, settling back in his bed. “I just got home and I already miss you. Cheesy, huh? I… I don’t know what’s going on between us, don’t really understand it and I’m sure you don’t either but I like it. I like what we are right now. I hope I haven’t done anything to jeopardise that? Or like… I hope you’re not having second thoughts, or changing your mind, or anything. Jesus.” Jimin takes a deep breath. “Please, don’t give up on us now? Maybe I’m looking too much into our goodbye to each other, I’m insecure and yeah… I’m a lot of things that you don’t realise, Jeongguk. Just… call me back, please? Can I come see you soon?”

Jimin hangs up before he can embarrass himself any further, face flushing as he buries his head into the pillow and forces himself to sleep.

Jeongguk’s been thinking.

He’s been spending the past few hours just thinking. Lost in his own spiral of thoughts, never drawing out of the mess he’s created in his own mind and unable to focus on anything else. Jeongguk has been truly lost within himself.

He has a fight coming up in less than five days, an important one. It’s the first fight he’s had in awhile which means his techniques are rusty. It also means he has a lot to prove in the ring, specifically to Jan since the war seems to be at a standstill currently.

Yoongi’s fully recovered now. Though he’s taking it easy, he’s at the gym with Jeongguk. He holds up the pads as Jeongguk perfects his skills again, punching effortlessly and holding his stance well.

Beneath each punch, though, is frustration that’s leaking through his actions.

Jeongguk’s travelling back in time and he’s rethinking every interaction he’s ever had with Jimin. He’s over analysing each bruise, mark that he’s witnessed and turned a blind eye to.

It doesn’t really make sense to Jeongguk.

Why would someone like Jimin owe anything to a man that owns a strip club? Jeongguk may not know Jimin much at all, barely scratching beneath the surface of Jimin’s life but with the existing knowledge, most of it doesn’t seem to make any sense to him.

Yoongi sighs as he lowers the pads.

“Can you focus, Jeongguk?” Yoongi snaps.

“Sorry, Taehyung lover.” Jeongguk mumbles irritably under his breath.

“You, what?”

“Taehyung lover,” he repeats immaturely. “I saw you and Taehyung, kissing each other’s face off. I didn’t know you two were together. Were you planning on hiding it forever?”

There’s a hint of regret in Yoongi’s face as he sighs loudly.

“We’re hardly hiding it. We barely know what it means ourselves.”

Jeongguk tilts his head to the side, raising a brow. As far as he can remember, he’s never viewed their relationship anything more than platonic. Sure, Yoongi’s always has a soft spot for Taehyung but it’s never really gone beyond that. As far as Jeongguk knows.

“Kissing each other’s face off, hyung, only means one thing.”

Yoongi clicks his tongue irritably, seemingly not wanting to go into details.

“When I know what it means myself, you’ll be the first to know, yeah?”

“Sure.”

They continue with their training session. It’s vigorous and it takes every effort left in Jeongguk’s body, over exerting himself. Yoongi doesn’t let him slow down, insisting it’s only the best for him considering he’s been off for so long.

Jeongguk’s arms ache and his muscles protest but he doesn’t give up.

He pours every ounce of his frustration and confusion into his punches, going the extra mile and nearly injuring his hand doing so.

“Fucking hell, Guk!” Yoongi exclaims, throwing the pads out of his hold and to the side of the gym. He walks over to Jeongguk, taking his hands into his own. “Can you fucking watch it? What’s gotten into you today, huh?”

His tone is stern but his eyes are concerned. Jeongguk steps out of the hold, not wanting to take heed to the attention.

“We’re going to be okay, aren’t we? For the upcoming fight?” Jeongguk asks, instead.

Yoongi nods without missing a beat.

“Of course we are. You’re good at what you do, you don’t even have to worry.”

Jeongguk allows the words to process and allows himself to believe in hem. He knows it’s been a while but he’s beginning to feel confident over his own skills once again, he’s beginning to regain a control over his fists. He looks over to Yoongi who’s looking at him carefully, face scrunched up in concentration like he’s trying to read into Jeongguk.

“For the record,” Jeongguk says as he unravels the tape off his knuckles, flexing his fingers out. “I’m happy for you and Taehyung, seriously.”

Yoongi shoots him a smile, looking relieved.

“Get outta here, go vent your fucking anger somewhere else.”

At the mention of anger, his jaw clenches up again. Jimin runs through his mind, men touching him because they own him registers into his system once again. He feels a rush of anger taking over every organ all over again. He gives Yoongi a nod before he’s walking out of the gym, into his car and taking the route down to the club without sparing a second thought to the mistake he’s about to make.

When he wanders into the club, all he’s thinking about is the time Jimin had exposed his bruises to Jeongguk. He remembers kissing each and every one of them, soothingly and promising to take care of him. He remembers telling Taehyung he’ll figure it out. He’s finally figured it out.

The bustle in the club isn’t lively. It’s barely the evening and there’s limited strippers strutting around in their high heels and their skimpy shorts, the same ones that Jimin wears but in a different colours. Jimin wears separate shorts. Another bubble of anger bursts inside of Jeongguk, boiling over the edge.

He walks over to the bar where a man works, banging his fists down on the counter.

The bartender turns to face him, his face void of emotions.

“What do you want?” He drones.

Jeongguk composes himself before he speaks, not wanting any lingering evidence of his anger. He needs to keep himself levelled.

“Who the fuck owns this club?”

“This club?” The man repeats, arching a brow. “The fuck is it to you?”

“You gonna answer my question or not?”

The man takes a moment, cleaning the glasses before he shrugs.

“Jaesun-nim. Big time entrepreneur, manager of the club. Employs the strippers. Why the fuck do you care?”

Jaesun. It’s the name Hoseok used at the party, it’s the man that directly manages Jimin. That’s the man he needs to reach out to, needs to talk to. He nods and throws a bill to him for his co-operation, wandering off.

Jeongguk notices the ‘staff only’ sign and doesn’t think twice before walking through the doors, not sparing a single feeling of remorse within him. He walks through the winding hallways, ignoring people’s questioning gazes and not looking into the dressing room where the rest of the strippers set up for their shift. He doesn’t even know if Jimin’s working tonight but Jimin might as well stick around to see this if he is.

At the end of the hallway, there’s a door with clear imprinting: Jaesun’s office.

Jeongguk doesn’t think twice before reaching forward and knocking on the door once, twice heavily and then just going ahead and opening it up.

There’s a man sitting behind a desk, on a leather chair, looking expensive and reeking of dominance and control. He’s adorned in the finest of clothes, gold chains hanging off his neck and a menacing look in his eyes. He looks up when Jeongguk enters, raising a brow.

“Who the fuck are you?” The man demands to know, immediately on defence.

There’s another man in the room with him but he seems to be a worker, cowered in the corner. If anything, that sight only aids to Jeongguk’s anger.

“Are you Jaesun?” Jeongguk questions.

“I am. Who the fuck are you?”

“Do you employ Jimin? Park Jimin?” He presses on, ignoring every single question Jaesun has for him. He takes a step into the room now that he’s finally getting somewhere, slamming the door shut behind him as he does so.

Jaesun shuffles upwards on his chair. He seems alert but also cocky, tilting his head to the side as he rests both his hands on top of the desk. He looks over to the small guy on his right, dismissing him. The guy immediately runs out, looking relieved. It’s just the two of them, now.

“Jimin, huh?” Jaesun chuckles bitterly, licking his lips. “You haven’t answered my question, still.”

“I’m not here to entertain your questions.” Jeongguk shakes his head. “Tell me what your deal with Jimin is.”

“Don’t you think you should ask Jimin yourself?”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue, his patience running thin. He withdraws his wallet from his pocket, pulling out all the cash he stuffed inside.

“He owes you something?” Jeongguk holds up the notes and in a moment of complete weakness, out of fury and the need to protect Jimin, he throws the money into Jaesun’s face. He watches the notes fall around the man whose face crumples, composure slipping. “There, take your fucking money. Is that enough?”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“You don’t own Jimin, d’you fucking understand?” Jeongguk snarls as he takes a step forward, palms of his hand down on the glass as he leans right in. “He’s not yours, and he’s not staying here just because you think he owes you shit. That’s the money right there.”

Jaesun’s patiently collecting the notes flurrying around him but his fingers shakes as he does so, smile twitching as it hurts for him to keep it there.

“You Jimin’s loverboy?” Jaesun questions.

“Don’t ask questions.” He shakes his head, slamming his hand down on the glass table hard enough to watch the objects shake. “It doesn’t matter what Jimin is or isn’t to me. I’m going to say this now—I gave you the money he owes you and now, you’re going to stay the fuck away from him.”

Jaesun laughs humorlessly.

“You’re really something, aren’t you? Tell me again, who are you? Coming into my club with so much confidence. Do you even realise who I am?”

Jeongguk snarls, egged on by his words. Jaesun may have a bigger frame, intimidating and dark look painted over his expression but he doesn’t scare Jeongguk. He’s faced more terrifying people in his life. He’s taken them on, he’s defeated them. If a fight breaks out right now, Jeongguk knows exactly how to take Jaesun on.

“I’m Jeon Jeongguk.” He says boldly.

Amusement registers into Jaesun’s face. If there was any lingering displeasure in his face, it evaporates. He has the money in his hands now, counting it patiently before he puts it down on the table.

“Jeongguk. Underground fighter, am I right?”

This takes him completely by surprise. Jeongguk freezes from where he’s leaning over the table, right into Jaesun’s space. His heart skips a beat and when he looks up to meet Jaesun’s eyes, there’s a sickening thrill that fills his orbs.

“What the fuck?” Jeongguk breathes out, taking a step back.

Jaesun clicks his tongue, waving a hand of dismissal in the air.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. I know all about you. I just never had seen your face before and now that I have…” he trails off, eyes scanning him before he scrunches his nose, shaking his head. “Not my type.”

“You’re a fucking sick bastard—”

“Thanks for this money,” Jaesun continues. “Now, you can see yourself out.”

Jeongguk wants to stay and he wants to implore. He wants to crawl into Jaesun’s space, punch and rough him up, wants to understand. He wants to understand what he means and how he knows who Jeongguk is. He wants to know if he had just made a grave mistake and what this means for Jimin. A moment of weakness that overtook him may of just made the situation more disastrous.

But instead, Jeongguk turns on his heels and runs out of the club. He needs to find Jimin.

Jimin’s spending time in the library before his shift starts. His phone is on aeroplane mode as he works. He needs no distractions, whatsoever, if he wants to pass his exam in a few days. It’s the first of many and they indicate whether or not he’ll graduate this year. After the countless sleepless nights, working tirelessly and selflessly, he deserves to pass.

As antsy as it makes him to turn his connections off and avoid any potential contact with Jeongguk, he knows his time will come. He’ll find Jeongguk after his shift and they’ll talk. He wants to understand what happened at the party. He doesn’t know what he did and he’s not giving up on them now, not after they had managed to make it so far.

When there’s half an hour left, he packs up his artwork and he starts to make his way to the club.

His phone loses connection as he takes the train, stopping at the station he needs to get to the club. Jimin turns his phone back on when he’s about to enter the club, quickly checking up on his notifications. He’s wandering in as the messages vibrate in from hours ago. Surprisingly, there’s loads of Jeongguk.

Missed calls.

Text messages, pleading Jimin to reach back to him.

Jimin curses under his breath, knowing there’s something seriously wrong. He’s about to run right out of the club, take the train to his apartment but before he can do something drastic, there’s a hand on his shoulder halting him.

Jimin looks up to see a man that works with Jaesun. His face is blank, eyes blinking as he stares down at him.

“Jimin. Jaesun-nim wants to see you. Now.”

Jimin swallows around the lump that immediately grows in his throat, dread filling his veins and making it hard to focus straight. The urgent need to reach out to Jeongguk reaches an all-time high but there’s nothing he can physically do. It pains him to lock his phone, put back into his pocket and follows the man.

He’s lead into Jaesun’s office.

Jaesun sits on the chair looking disturbed and annoyance leaking in his features, brows furrowed together and resting his chin on his conjoined hands. When Jimin enters, he barely glances up but he dismisses his work, leaving him and Jimin alone.

“Is something the matter?” Jimin decides to initiate the conversation, not bearing another moment.

“Sit down, Jimin. We need to talk.”

The tone is void of any real emotion. The order is clear, though, and he knows better than to disobey him. He nods as he walks further into the room, taking a seat opposite the man and fiddling with his fingers nervously.

Jaesun takes a moment before he makes any move. After a insufferable long minute, he pushes off his chair. He walks to the door of the office, locking it and drawing the curtains. If Jimin was nervous before, it doesn’t compare to how he feels now. His heart starts to race and his palms begin to sweat. He rubs them against his knees, against the rough fabric of his jeans and takes a deep breath.

He’s completely caught off guard when he feels a hand carding through his hair, wrenching his head back.

Jimin gasps out loud at the tight hold, making his neck arch in an uncomfortable, unnatural position. He struggles to breathe, squeezing his eyes shut and vaguely wondering what the fuck he had done to receive such treatment.

“Guess who visited me today?” Jaesun spits at him.

He lets go of Jimin’s hair and walks back around, bending over his desk and opening his drawers.

Jimin heaves when he can finally control his body again, tears building up in the corner of his eyes from the pressure. He’s never cried in front of Jaesun before and he really doesn’t want to start now. But the moment between them is tense, it feels thick and something bad is about to happen—Jimin just knows.

“Who?” He whispers out.

Jaesun straightens out his back, holding up a wad of cash in his hand. He leans in and throws it roughly in Jimin’s face.

Jimin flinches as the money falls around him.

“Your loverboy, is who.”

He furrows his brow. “Loverboy?” He repeats, despising how weak his voice sounds. “W-who? I don’t understand.”

“Jeon Jeongguk, that’s fucking who.”

Jimin goes frigid, his body beginning to shake almost instinctively from the horror that drips down inside of him. He looks up to Jaesun hesitantly and notices nothing but pure evil in his eyes. Jeongguk was here? In the club?

“W-what?”

“I was disrespected by him,” Jaesun shakes his head. “He came in here, demanding shit from me—can you fucking believe it? He threw money in my face and said it made up for the debt you owed me. Didn’t we fucking agree the debt was between us?”

Jimin starts to shake his head instantly. A part of him doesn’t believe a word of Jaesun’s story.

“I never told him!”

“You fucking liar!” Jaesun screams back at his face, his face snarling. “He really tried to outright buy you off but guess what, the money still isn’t enough. So whilst you tried to worm your way out of my hold, you didn’t succeed. Your boy didn’t succeed. You’ll keep coming here, d’you fucking understand me?”

There’s no way he can’t cry now. Tears start to blur his vision and he wants to wipe them away but his arms feel paralysed out of fear, lips wobbling from the anxiety that fills him from within.

Jaesun’s back in his face, leaning right in so their lips are inches away.

“Go and do your work. Don’t try anything funny ever again. I own you. You’re mine.”

Jeongguk doesn’t sleep well. He tosses and turns and every time he attempts to reach out to Jimin, he gets the voicemail. Taehyung hears his restlessness and wanders into his room, cuddling him close and reassuring that Jimin’s working on his assignments and upcoming exams.

He doesn’t explain exactly why he’s worried to Taehyung. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to. But Taehyung’s presence is soothing to him, anyway. They eventually end up sleeping snuggled up close together and Jeongguk still manages to wake up before his alarm goes off.

He has training today with Yoongi but he knows he has to reach out to Jimin beforehand. Perhaps, he can stop at his apartment before he goes to the gym. Jeongguk needs to explain himself and hope he didn’t ruin anything, didn’t make things progressively worst.

But apparently Jimin beats him to it because the doorbell rings and when Jeongguk opens it, it reveals the boy himself.

Relief spreads within Jeongguk.

“Fucking finally, Jimin!” Jeongguk laughs breathlessly, feeling a smile inch on his face. He can explain himself and it’ll be fine. He’ll learn the whole story and they can figure it out together. After all, he had saved Jimin from a bad situation. “I’ve been meaning to see you—”

Jimin cuts off all his words, though. He walks right in and shoves Jeongguk roughly, enough to have him stumble backwards. Jeongguk furrows his brow in confusion, turmoil registering in his features.

“What the fuck?” He says.

When he straightens back up and finally gauges Jimin’s reaction, his next retort dies in his throat. Jimin looks livid. He looks angrier than Jeongguk has ever seen him. There’s a vein sticking out on his forehead, his fists are clenched and ready to cause some damage, his stance is taut and pulled together carefully. His eyes are narrowed carefully, staring straight into Jeongguk with the intent to hurt.

“What gives you the fucking right?” Jimin’s first words stream from him.

Jeongguk freezes because he knows what’s happening. Jimin already knows and he didn’t even get the chance to explain himself, he’s been caught red-handed and now the situation has tumbled downwards.

“Jimin, look—”

“You think you can waltz into my life, try to take care of me by invading my privacy? What did you think you were doing, huh?”

His usual response in such situations is to get defensive, to hold up his own and fight back. After feeling helpless for so many years in front of his father, Jeongguk has a strong sense to always fight back even when he’s in the wrong. But now, he can’t bring the words to his mouth. The other boy has never looked at him like this and it makes Jeongguk’s insides shrivel.

“Jimin…”

“Did you think you were doing some good deed going to my manager, huh?”

Jeongguk nods. “I really was. I… I paid off your debt, Jimin.”

“You don’t know what you’re even paying off!” Jimin throws his hands in the air out of pure frustration, a harsh sound that resonates like a choked off laugh escapes his lips. “You don’t know anything, who the fuck even told you?”

“No one told me. I overheard at the party, when you were talking to Hoseok-ssi.”

“Oh my fucking God,” he mumbles his breath. He runs a hand through his blonde hair, pushing it off his face. Distaste is evident in every corner of his face. “You heard me talking about a debt and you decided to take it upon yourself?”

“I was trying to help.”

“Well, guess what?” Jimin barks. “You didn’t fucking help!”

Jeongguk’s face crumbles and he takes a step forward, despite knowing it’s probably the wrong move. His suspicions are confirmed when the older man takes a clear step back, raising a hand to halt him from making any other moves. Jeongguk had worked so hard to build their relationship up and now, Jimin’s edging away from him like he’s physically uncomfortable with his presence near him.

That hurts. Jeongguk’s chest constricts and he feels tears building up behind his eyes. He stares at the man before him and he knows he’s made a mistake, he had felt it the minute he had left the club.

There’s nothing he can do to take it back now.

“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk whispers. “Tell me how to fix it because I will. I’ll do anything.”

“No, you listen to me. Just because you think we’ve reached some sort of understanding, don’t for a second think you know a single thing about my life. You really don’t. My debts that I owe to Jaesun is my problem. I’ve never allowed my best friends, my roommates, Hoseok and Namjoon pay them, what gives you the right to think you can?”

“I didn’t know—”

“I know you don’t, so you come to me!” Jimin continues to snap, his anger just rolling right off him and giving no time for Jeongguk to comeback with a suitable answer. “You ask me! I tell you! I tell you that my father owes Jaesun a shit ton of money but he’s gone missing so it’s down to me! I tell you that I don’t need your money, not a single penny because I’m working hard to pay it off myself.”

“I don’t regret giving the money.” Jeongguk cuts in with finality in his tone. “Perhaps, I should’ve asked you. I can admit that. I should’ve approached the situation better, okay? I admit that.”

Jimin scoffs, shaking his head as he takes another step back.

“You think you can solve any problem, Jeongguk?” He asks, tilting his head to the side. “You can’t. You didn’t help me, not one bit. You made it worse.”

Jeongguk really wants to cry, now. He knows he’s made the situation go downhill further and each passing second feels heavier to him. The way Jimin’s looking at him—with total disgust entwined in his features—it feels like he’ll never get back the soft smiles Jimin has reserved just for him.

He doesn’t cry, though. He holds back the overwhelming feeling and he blinks until his eyes dry up, swallowing down the discomfort.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats once again when the silence stretches on for a moment too long.

Jimin doesn’t speak for a while. He stares intently at Jeongguk and then he takes another step back, pulling at the ends of his sleeves. He seems to have been reduced to tears too because his voice is choked up when he speaks, holding back the pending sobs.

“I want you stay away from me.”

Jeongguk’s head snaps up.

“W-what?”

“Stay away from me. You’ve done nothing but ruin me, over and over. I want you to stay away.”

Jeongguk breathes harshly through his nose, trying to control the outburst of emotions within him. Jimin says the words with a fierce undertone. There’s nothing but determination behind them, his tone not wavering even once as he speaks. Jeongguk knows he fucked up.

“Jimin—”

He had worked hard to change himself. Not for Jimin but because of Jimin. The boy before him had given Jeongguk strength at times he thought he’d never be able to feel whole again. The boy had been patient and caring towards Jeongguk in ways he’s never experienced before, guiding him through his life with a helping hand but never overstepping.

Everything good stems down to Jimin.

Jeongguk wants to keep Jimin around, wants to confess how he feels and how he could’ve never transformed to who he’s becoming today without him.

But it doesn’t seem to matter. Not anymore. Jimin looks at him like he never wants to set his sights on Jeongguk again, his frame shaking as he keeps a clear distance between the two of them.

“Stay away from me and my business.” Jimin only repeats his words.

It’s all his fault.

Jeongguk nods mutely, swallowing around the lump in his throat and refusing to look towards him.

“Okay.”

He wants to apologise over and over until the words are cemented into Jimin. He reacted irrationally and he knows, he had figured it out the second he had walked away from the club. But he’ll live up to that mistake now. He’ll never forget the way Jimin’s looking at him now.

“Goodbye, Jeongguk.” Jimin whispers as he begins to weep, tears rolling down his cheeks as he turns and exits the apartment.

The room feels cold once again and Jeongguk’s knees buckle. He falls to the ground and he allows himself to cry.

Chapter Text

(Mood for most of the chapter: The Acid - Basic Instinct)

Jimin lays awake in bed.

Besides him Namjoon is fast asleep. His features remain troubled, though—brows furrowed together, eyes squeezed shut tightly like he’s experiencing a nightmare in his slumber. He’s curled up, trying to push him into one side of the bed and grant Jimin more space. On the bedside table next to him is Jimin’s pain medication, the same tablets he’s been readily reaching for.

The past two days have been torturous and he’s not sure how he could survive without something to take the edge off, to numb his current agony.

Jimin muscles protest as he attempts to shift on the bed. His eyes flutter up to the digital clock display on the wall. It’s seven-thirty in the morning and he has early morning classes soon despite the fact that he had only clocked out of his shift merely two hours ago.

Recently, Jimin’s been worked to complete exhaustion.

If Jaesun’s anger had been prominent before, it didn’t compare to the pure hatred he holds for Jimin now. For the past two days, all Jimin has seen is the four walls of the strip club. He’s pushed into rooms with random men, pushed onto his knees and marked up with bruises so often that at some point, the pain no longer registers to him.

Jimin’s numb. Detached. In a state of complete dissociation.

Namjoon groans in his sleep when he senses the movement in the room, still deep in his sleep but turning towards him instinctively.

“You okay, Jimin?” He mumbles under his breath.

“I need medication.”

The man doesn’t bother asking for a further explanation, only humming under his breath. His hand reaches out blindly for the pills, patting down on the table until he retrieves it. He opens his eyes only to pop out a single pill and handing it over to Jimin with the open Red Bull can.

Jimin takes it off him gratefully, muttering ‘thank you’ under his breath though his voice is completely hoarse.

Jimin’s been running on little to no sleep, on Ibuprofen for the pain and energy drinks to keep him caffeinated and alert. It’s not a healthy way to live, consumes his energy and drains him of feeling anything that’s real anymore.

“Did you get the chance to sleep?” Namjoon asks.

Jimin swallows down the tablet, washing it down with the overly sweetened drink.

“Yeah.” He lies smoothly through his teeth. “You slept well?”

“Decent, yeah.”

Jimin doesn’t respond, only shifting to sit in an upright position. He waits for the strong medication to take effect. It never takes long and soon enough, his limbs will begin to loosen and he’ll be able to repeat his day on a loop like the past two days. Jaesun has him on a tight leash and Jimin’s putty under his hold.

Ever since Jimin had returned home after breaking off existing ties with Jeongguk, he had finally cracked.

He had broken down completely. As soon as he had walked through the doors, he had collapsed to the floor in a heap as the sobs wracked through his body. All he could envision was the look on Jeongguk’s face when he had told him to stay away, the ultimate look of remorse mixed in with betrayal that overtook the younger man’s face.

Hoseok and Namjoon had been there within a flash. They had held him up, helped him to take care of himself and catered to every need. They sat around him as Jimin confessed to everything—his developing relationship with Jeongguk that he had managed to ruin, anyway.

They’ve been keeping an extra eye on Jimin. Either one of them are always around Jimin when he’s home in the apartment, sleeping with him and making sure to give him the right dose of pain medication whenever he needs it. They clean up the cuts and the bruises and they offer a guiding hand through the turmoil Jimin’s facing.

Normally, Jimin doesn’t like to indulge in attention.

But for once, he readily welcomes it. He craves Namjoon’s cuddles after a long shift, Hoseok’s cooing voice as he prepares soup for him and cleans him up. Jimin basks under how they chase after him, for once.

Jimin begins to get off the bed and Namjoon’s following his move immediately.

“Where are you going?” He squints at Jimin’s figure, rubbing his eyes. “Come back to bed, honey.”

“I have class.”

“Not until an hour and half. Please, get another thirty minutes in?” Namjoon pleads.

There’s apprehension in the older man’s tone, eyes opening only to follow Jimin’s movements wearily. The concern is clearly there, hanging present in the room between them and it makes Jimin’s chest constrict. He knows Namjoon’s worried about the grand total of seven hours of sleep Jimin’s gotten in the past two days.

If Jaesun doesn’t kill him first, maybe sleep deprivation will.

“I’m not tired.”

Namjoon doesn’t look satisfied with the answer, sorrow filling his tortured pupils but he refuses to argue with Jimin. He simply lets out a heavy sigh, nodding and rolling onto his other side and snuggling under the duvet. It barely takes him a few moments before his breathing evens out once again, an indicator he’s sound asleep.

There’s never been a time Jimin’s been jealous of his roommates.

But right now as he watches Namjoon slip back into unconsciousness, granted the luxury of time and sleep—he feels envious. It burns within him, consuming every vein in his body and making his eyes sting with unshed tears. He misses the feeling of being granted the basic necessities in his life, hates how he’s been stripped of his dignity.

Jimin climbs out of the bed and walks to his wardrobe, grabbing a fresh set of clothes and wandering into the shower.

For the past two days, Jimin’s been narrowly avoiding his own reflections.

If there’s anything he despises, it’s his own reflection.

Whenever he looks in the mirror, he finds his own pathetic self staring back at him. He finds his dark bruises, marks that taint his body tormenting him. He finds the discoloured skin over his waist, extending upwards and to his arms. They’re more intense now than they’ve ever been, rendering Jimin completely reliable on medication to get him through his shifts.

Jaesun’s been officially, and surely, pushed Jimin to his limit. He’s demanding more from Jimin than ever, more than Jimin can ever give to him.

Every time he looks at his own reflection, he remembers Jeongguk and right now, he just wants to forget. He doesn’t want to feel any longer.

He strips off his clothes, squeezing his eyes shut tightly and not allowing his gaze to wander anywhere as he walks to his shower. He wraps an arm tentatively around his body, holding himself up as he starts up the water and stands underneath.

Jimin feels the first of his tears once he’s under the spray of water. Eventually, it progresses to sobbing. He wails as he rests his head against the wall, frame shaking with the force of his sobs and he allows himself the liberty to cry whilst his sounds are drowned out.

Jeongguk wishes Taehyung was outside.

He’s sitting in the dressing room of the warehouse, wrapping his hand up in boxing tape to conceal his knuckles. He hasn’t fought in a while and he’s forgotten the initial feeling of dread that registers within him everytime he walks through the doors, into the warehouse and into the illegal organisation.

At first, Jeongguk had been in love with fighting. It had been a way for him to regain control, to blow off steam. Now, it doesn’t give him the same thrill. The need for revenge from his father has, somewhere among the years, faded and fizzled out.

Yoongi’s sitting before him, elbows resting on his thighs and leaning right into his personal space.

He seems distressed but he’s opting not to reveal his true emotions, swallowing audibly every few seconds. He reaches out and touches Jeongguk’s knee, making the younger man jolt in surprise from the coldness of his fingertips.

When he looks up, Yoongi looks determined.

“Listen, you’ve got this, yeah?” He whispers.

Jeongguk shuts his eyes for a second, willing the anxiety that swirls in the pits of his stomach away. It feels like the first time in the warehouse again. Taking a break from fighting for a long time is the first mistake he had made but coupled with a wandering mind that won’t settle down is a recipe for disaster.

Though he has Yoongi by his side, he feels the absence of Taehyung’s comforting presence outside the building. He feels the absence of Jimin in his life.

They had both agreed that it was, perhaps, too dangerous for Taehyung to be loitering outside the warehouse by himself when there’s still the war looming over their heads. Neither of them seemed too pleased with the prospects but despite all odds, their judgement wasn’t to be altered. Taehyung was safest within the four walls of his own home.

Over the last two days, Jeongguk’s spent most of his time in the gym.

Yoongi hadn’t given him time to sulk around about what had happened between him and Jimin, insisting his frustrations were best useful in the gym where he can practice his rusty skills and techniques. He had distracted Jeongguk by not allowing the boy to dwell on the issue, pushing him harder with each passing hour of the day.

Surprisingly, Jeongguk’s thankful for it.

He’s able to release the self-loathing that lingers deep within him upon his punching bag. He trains with every fibre of his being and it almost eases the burden that has been making his bones feel heavier recently.

It may not be enough training for the fight tonight but he feels somewhat prepared, has been able to force his thoughts of Jimin elsewhere for the two hours he needs to spare to himself tonight.

“We got this,” Jeongguk confirms under his breath when the silence between them stretches on for a long too moment, wringing out his taped fingers. “We got this, hyung. We always do.”

Yoongi’s twisted expression doesn’t transform but he does manage to give him a curt nod, settling back on the chair. He runs a hand through his faded blonde strands, the colour dying out and his roots coming back in. He looks like a wreck, overworking himself only for Jeongguk.

Does Jeongguk just destruct every person in his life?

“We only have ten minutes left. Shall we start making our way over?”

He shakes his head. “J-just a minute longer, please?”

Yoongi softens and he obliges to the request, nodding and refusing to move from his position. He may look relaxed—legs spread open, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt but Jeongguk knows that’s far from the truth. He’s anything but relaxed. They’re both on edge, shaking with the suspense.

“Sure.”

“Tell me about how you and Taehyung are doing.” He begs for a distraction.

Yoongi waits a beat before he begins to speak, a smile instinctively creeping on his lips as he does so. He’s been avoiding the topic of Taehyung recently, only allowing their conversations to arise about fighting and nothing else. But it’s clear how fond he is for Taehyung considering he’s giving the first real, sincere smile in the last two days.

“Good.” Yoongi answers without a beat, cheeks flushing. “Really good, man.”

Even if Jeongguk’s entire life has been tilted upside down, completely out of touch from where he truly wants to be—seeing his hyung truly happy is enough for him.

“Yeah? You two dating yet, officially?”

“Not yet. It’s… um, new territory for me, y’know?” Yoongi skirts around the issue carefully, never revealing too much. “I’ve never dated someone before. I’ve been emotionally unavailable to everyone since I was a teenager and now, suddenly, sharing intimate parts of my life with someone?” He shrugs. “It’s hard.”

Jeongguk knows more than anyone how hard Yoongi’s life has been.

Though there’s parts to Yoongi he’ll never get to uncover and understand, he knows the man has never had it easy. He had been adopted from a young age, having never met his biological parents. There’s more to his story, gaps that doesn’t extend to Jeongguk’s knowledge.

All he knows is that Yoongi had been kicked out, made to be homeless and slept on park benches, under bridges and in dark, murky alleyways. He had prostituted his body for a while before joining the underground circle, meeting Seokjin and beginning to build up a life for the first time.

Jeongguk reaches out to place a hand comfortingly in Yoongi’s, squeezing slightly.

“Taehyung is the most…” he pauses, trying to find the right words. “Accepting, understanding person I’ve met. If there’s anyone who’s going to be patient with you, hyung, it’s him.”

Yoongi shuts his eyes for a second. When he reopens, there’s some sort of understanding behind them. He grabs a joint, lighting it up.

“I hope so.” He takes a drag before standing up, gesturing for the younger man to do the same. “Time to go and defeat this fucking fight. I wanna cuddle up to my boy already.”

Jeongguk groans under his breath, shaking his head.

“Too much, too soon. No details, please.”

Yoongi shakes his head and lets out a laugh as he takes another drag of the marijuana, leading them out of the door and down to the basement where the fights occur. It’s been awhile since Jeongguk has been here and he hates to acknowledge the feeling of horror that crosses him as they descend down to the main room.

Before they enter the room full of awaiting eyes, Yoongi halts and turns to face him.

“What’s the rule?”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes but doesn’t waste a second before responding.

“Stay quick on my feet. Throw a punch but back off and conserve my energy, never wasting my stamina. Think carefully about every punch and don’t think about putting on a show and impressing people—only go in there with the intent to win.”

The words have been cemented into him. He rehearses them in his sleep sometimes, it constantly spins in his mind. Yoongi has made them ring loud and clear within him at any given time of the day.

“Good.” Yoongi nods in approval. “Let’s fucking do this.”

It’s clear that they’re the guests everyone has been anticipating tonight, heads turning towards them as they walk through. There’s no doubt that the pending war has been the conversation everyone’s been readily discussing, claiming stakes and making bets upon Jan and Jeongguk and everyone else involved.

Jeongguk’s eyes fix on Jan, first.

Jan’s standing by the ring, already prepared to watch tonight’s fight. He has a lazy smile sprawled across his lips, a glint in his eyes. There’s also a blunt between his fingers, a glass of beer in the other.

In the ring stands one of Jan’s men: Gabdo.

Jeongguk swallows as he flexes out his fingers, bracing himself.

The referee stands in the middle as he waits, his face void of any emotions. He has a poker face painted over his expression and the whistle already in his voice, impatiently waiting for Jeongguk to join them.

As Jeongguk makes his way there, ducking so he can enter the ring and exposing himself—the bustle of the warehouse around him finally begins to settle into him. There’s not many people in the room tonight. Most of the men gathered around to watch the fight are directly linked to Jan in one way or another, all of them smirking up to Jeongguk.

The referee blows on his whistle, silencing them all as he repeats the rules.

The rules never change and always stay the same. Jeongguk barely pays attention, cracking his knuckles and getting into position and when the whistle blows again, the fight has officially started.

Gabdo seems to share the same techniques as Jeongguk because he never advances forward, circling the ring with an intimidating smirk. He’s much like Jan: big built, large frame and a terrorising expression that might’ve scared Jeongguk on any other day.

But Jeongguk’s here to prove a point, like he is every time.

Jeongguk can defeat them. He can take on any man, he can shove them to the ground and he can prove his alpha status without a moment’s of hesitation like he has done before. Jeongguk has come here over and over since he was fifteen and since, he’s conquered and proven himself. He’s broken Jan’s bones, he’s made Kyu cry out for mercy in the ring. Every time he faces Jan’s man, they’re defeated. Who the fuck does Gabdo think he is?

Gabdo seems to get frustrated of just walking around the ring. He breaks his own rule, leaning in and catching Jeongguk right on the jaw with a hefty punch.

Jeongguk hadn’t been expecting and it disorientates himself for a second but he recovers fast, throwing back a punch himself.

They follow the same mundane motions for the first half of the match. Jeongguk successfully blocks the punches, he ducks when it comes too close to his face and responds with a series of his own punches. He carefully takes a step back each time he’s assaulted Gabdo, regaining his breathing and attempting to not overwork himself.

Every now and then, with each passing moment, he feels his eyes naturally drifting towards Jan.

Jan knows Sunhye, somehow. There’s still unanswered questions.

The prospect is enough to rile Jeongguk up. He advances forward, punching Gabdo with more intent to hurt behind each of his strikes. Gabdo hadn’t been expecting the sudden attack and he holds his arms up, trying to defend himself. Jeongguk can’t stop now that he’s started, continuing to jab him hard.

He’s only drawn out of his haze when he feels Yoongi’s voice screeching out to him desperately.

“Slow down, Guk! Don’t fucking overwork yourself!”

Jeongguk takes a deep breath and takes a clear step back so he’s not tempted. He knows he had broken his own rule there, went against his own style of boxing. He controls his heaves as he keeps his fists raised, defending his ribs so he’s not caught off guard and eyeing Gabdo wearily.

Gabdo has started to bleed. The crimson warm liquid seeps out of the side of his forehead, rolling down the side of his face and mixing in with his sweat. He looks livid. He spits on the ground, his salvia twinged with the red colour and it makes Jeongguk tingle with amusement and accomplishment.

Jeongguk’s winning. Already.

It excites him that despite the fact that the match has only just started, he’s already two steps ahead of Gabo, two steps ahead of Jan. He looks over to Jan and shoots him a smirk.

Jan doesn’t seem bothered at all, though. His expression is mellowed out, disinterested as he takes another drag of his blunt. When he looks up and fixes his gaze on Jeongguk, he simply tilts his head in amusement and arches a brow.

Jeongguk looks away and back at Gabdo but he’s completely caught by surprise when there’s a fist in his face.

Usually, Jeongguk can recover from a punch within seconds. But this isn’t like any other punch. He’s taken many blows to the face and sometimes, he barely staggers from the force but this one knocks the breath out of him. He feels his skin being ripped to shreds. When he numbly raises a hand to inspect the damage, he’s met with blood staining his fingers.

Yoongi’s yelling behind him but the voice takes a second to enroll into him.

“Gabdo has knuckle rings! That’s a weapon! Stop the fucking fight!”

Yoongi’s screaming at the referee but it seems futile because the controller of the fight seems completely unfazed, as if he’s been expecting this. He doesn’t blow his whistle to indicate the end of the fight. He doesn’t disqualify Gabdo. Instead, he glances over to Jan and gives him a discreet nod.

As it begins to register within Jeongguk as to what’s happening, there’s another punch being delivered to him, right on top of the previous. The rings cut into his cheeks again and he cries out loud.

Gabdo grabs his shoulders, pulling him forward.

“That one was from Jaesun.”

Jaesun. Jimin’s manager. He remembers—vaguely, in his current state—that Jaesun had known about Jeongguk’s fighting position in the underground circle. He had specifically mentioned it, had smirked about it. It had been unnerving for Jeongguk since he concealed his life carefully, not allowing it to be exposed to any one person out there.

Jeongguk falls back and at long last, the referee blows his whistle, cutting the fight off.

He stumbles out of the ring instantly, feeling light-headed from steadily losing blood. He’s never been hit by a weapon before and left completely dazed.

Yoongi’s there within a flash, holding him up and sheltering him as his eyes scan over Jeongguk’s.

“Fuck. We gotta get you out of here, c’mon.”

They barely spare another second to the remaining people lingering in the room as they walk out of the warehouse. Yoongi holds Jeongguk by the waist and giving him as much support as he can manage, carefully steering him out of the room. Jeongguk groans under his breath, his cheeks sending sharp pangs of pain down his neck.

Yoongi’s ranting under his breath endlessly, the outrage pouring in his tone.

“Jan paid off the fucking referee! That’s not allowed!”

Jeongguk’s trying to see straight but he struggles, unable to ease out the blind spots of blackness that evades his vision. His head swims as he uses Yoongi to walk effectively. They need to get out of here. Jan’s men are numbered and it’s only the two of them—they’d never stand a chance.

“N-no,” Jeongguk spits on the floor, watching the blood tainting the cement. He composes himself, trying to pull himself together. It’s just a cut. “It was Jaesun—Jimin’s manager.” Even as he speaks, there’s a metallic taste in his mouth that he can’t swallow down, feeling the urge to vomit. “When Gabdo punched, he mentioned Jaesun.”

Yoongi curses under his breath, tightening his hold.

“Whatever.” He seems exhausted, not wanting to talk about it any longer. “We have to get you home now. I think you need stitches, we need to find someone—”

Yoongi’s cut off by someone else speaking.

“Where do you think you’re going, so fast?”

Jeongguk freezes and his steps falter as soon as he recognises Jan’s voice, speaking out to them. His body tenses and he turns to Yoongi instinctively, seeking advice but desperation floods Yoongi’s eyes.

“Fuck.” Yoongi breathes out.

Jan walks towards them, surrounded by his men. They had been watching the fight just minutes ago and now they’re outside, intent flooding their faces and satisfied smiles sprawled across their lips.

Jeongguk turns to face him, coming to stand before Jan face-to-face.

He knew this moment was a long time coming but he also thought he’d be better prepared for it, would have more men standing behind him to defend him. He never imagined he’d be in a compromising position, cheeks bleeding out and body protesting with the existing pain. He’s weakened, currently and Jan seems to want to take advantage of it.

Jan stares down at him like he’s looking at a child, his brows arched.

His hand reaches out to touch Jeongguk’s cut up cheeks. The touch is fleeting, barely there but Jeongguk still flinches and slaps him away. He doesn’t want his dirty hands anywhere near him.

Yoongi responds immediately, pushing Jeongguk’s body back and behind him. He raises an arm that protects Jeongguk’s body, holding him back. Yoongi’s eyes are carefully narrowed, hints of menace behind them.

“Don’t touch him.” Yoongi warns.

Jan tilts his head to the side, amusement taking over.

“Min Yoongi. Really? You’d think you would’ve realised, by now, how out of depth you are.”

Yoongi doesn’t seem the slightest bit affected, his face remaining painfully neutral.

“Paying off the referee, Jan? Is that the best you can do?”

Jan picks at his fingernails, trying to feign disinterest as he clicks his tongue distastefully. The men, on cue, erupt into laughter. It’s a bizarre scene that Jeongguk has to blink a few times, trying to keep up with what’s going on around him.

“You think I paid the refere off?” Jan asks. “I didn’t. My uncle, Jaesun did.”

If Jeongguk felt confused before, it doesn’t even begin to compare to how he feels now. Pure and utter bewilderment floods into his system, making him feel completely out of loop. Jan and Jaesun are related?

Yoongi seems to be just as lost.

“What the fuck?” He mutters out.

Before neither of them can read the situation before them and act accordingly, one of the men's advance towards Yoongi. He grabs ahold of Yoongi’s arms, tugging it behind his back and doing the same with the other, successfully destabilising him. Yoongi begins to shout, immediately trying to pull free.

Jeongguk begins to walk over, taken over by the instinct to help Yoongi.

But before he can manage to do so, Jan blocks his way.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

There’s only so much one man can take. Jeongguk has been forced to bow down to men all his life, he has been made to give up his control and readily hand over his dignity because of fear. He’s exasperated. He’s done. He’s sick of older men taking advantage of him, addressing him like he’s inadequate.

Jeongguk looks up to Jan, holding fierce eye contact.

In the corner of his eyes, he can see Yoongi struggling insistently against the hold that renders him useless. He’s still yelling though.

“Don’t do anything, Guk! Don’t fucking do anything!”

The man that holds him presses the palm of his hand down on Yoongi’s mouth, cutting off his speech and telling him to shut his mouth.

Fury consumes Jeongguk at the sight, making him see completely red. He raises his head to Jan and leans in, only to spit in his face.

Jan flinches when the saliva hits him in the face, landing on top of his eyes. He remains motionless for a second, recovering from the fact that he had just gotten spat in the face. He seems speechless as he lifts his hand, wiping away the moisture. When he looks back down at Jeongguk, he’s beginning to shake with anger.

“That’s a mistake I’ll make you live to regret.”

Before Jeongguk can think of an appropriate response, he’s blindsided. Someone grabs him from behind, a hand wrenching in his hair and throwing him carelessly onto the ground. Jeongguk groans as his body slams into the hard concrete, writhing as spots of pain explode within his body.

Jan walks up to his body, sick amusement tingling in his features. He raises his booted foot, pressing down on Jeongguk’s neck until he can’t breathe. He tries to cry out but he’s unable to do so, choking under the man.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he can still register Yoongi’s screams. He wants to tell Yoongi that it’s okay, they’ll be okay but he can’t.

Jan takes his foot off and Jeongguk wheezes, trying to catch his breathing. He attempts to take advantage of the situation, staggering so he can get up to his feet but before he can, Jan pushes him right back down and begins to stomp over his body.

It’s cruel, the way it works. Jeongguk had done the same to Jan and he’s getting the same treatment back. Jan’s ruthless where he kicks into Jeongguk’s ribs, not giving him a second to comprehend the discomfort that begins to spread through his bones.

Every time Jeongguk tries to stand up, Jan’s beating him back down. Eventually, the other men join in. They take their turn, passing Jeongguk around like a ragdoll as they kick into him and attack every inch of his body.

Jan takes a step back after a few endless minutes of the assault, smoking lazily. He glances over to Yoongi, raising a brow and tilting his head.

“You’re a retired fighter? Can’t even help your own, can you? Now, you’re going to watch him die.”

Yoongi’s crying. That much is certain amongst all the pain heavy haze that bursts through Jeongguk, he can still hear Yoongi’s muffled wails. He’s struggling against the man who immoblises him and he’s screaming, sobbing loudly.

No one touches Jeongguk for a while.

He can barely shift an inch on the floor where he lays without garbling out nonsensical sounds, aching with the pain that dominates over him. Jan leans against the wall, smoking like he hadn’t just attempted to take Jeongguk’s life from the beating.

It gives Jeongguk the time he needs to attempt to get up. It takes him a while with how his legs shake from the effort, nearly buckling underneath him but with perseverance, he manages.

Jan turns to him, features darkening.

“If only you had backed away, Jeongguk.” Jan’s shaking his head, his voice a lowered, hushed whisper.

Jeongguk’s eyes widen and he’s caught off guard when he feels a blunt force to the head, knocking him right out of his senses. He begins to scream for the first time through the entire ordeal, his skull taking a blow as his body swings and involuntarily, falls into Jan’s arms.

Jan’s fiddling with his pocket and he withdraws a knife.

Jeongguk’s stuck, falling right into his trap. He tries to back away but the force to his head is rendering him useless, weakened as his vision blurs.

There’s not a single moment of hesitation from Jan as he plunges the knife into his stomach, piercing Jeongguk deep.

The last thing that Jeongguk hears is Yoongi’s cries before he blacks out, falling to the ground, out cold.

Jimin barely gets in the last stroke to complete his timed painting before the timer goes off and the exam officially ends.

He lets out a breath as he drops the paintbrush, groaning as he stretches out his neck.

His first exam has demanded more from him than he can afford to give. Jimin knows, essentially, that his focus should be entirely on his upcoming graduation and passing his exams but he’s struggling. Jaesun’s still pushing him twice as hard, just as brutal as he had expected.

Jimin moans inwardly as the kinks in his neck smooth out, cracking his knuckles. He looks down at his work. It’s a piece of Jeongguk. It’s his lips, widened and taking over the entire size of the canvas. It’s detailed and every time Jimin looks at it, his chest constricts. He misses the taste of Jeongguk’s lips.

He misses Jeongguk.

He sighs under his breath as he gets off the seat, grabbing his unfinished piece and taking it over to his professor.

“I can’t wait to mark this, Jimin.” The professor nods at him professionally, not sparing the painting a glance as he gingerly takes it off him and puts it onto the drying rack. “I hope you know, I expect the utmost results from you. You’ve been a star pupil and you’ve been granted two exhibitions this year. I hope to keep seeing your success.”

Jimin holds eye contact but feels his heart sinking.

He may of gotten the privilege to have two exhibitions, the chance to showcase his artwork to the world. He had been fortunate enough to get donations, endless support which was even fulfilled by Jeongguk last time.

But it’s not enough.

Jimin’s not giving his entire attention to his artwork, he can’t. Not when his life is consumed by Jaesun and the eager men who pay him every single night.

“Of course, sir,” Jimin mumbles, shame creeping inside of him as he bows. “Thank you for your support for the past years as I worked under you. You’ve taught me a lot, thank you.”

The professor seems humbled by this. He simply bows to him as well and Jimin’s dismissed.

It’s strange to know that this is the last exam he’ll sit. The grades for this exam will determine whether or not the past three years at university counted towards anything, at all. It’s strange to know this is one of the last times he’ll wander around the campus.

Jimin walks out of the exam hall and he feels liberation weighing him down, as well as a consuming feel of sorrow.

University, despite the assignment deadlines and all-nighters when he worked tirelessly to complete his work, had become a safe haven for Jimin. He had been able to escape away to campus, hide within the art rooms and in the library when he needed a break from everything else. Now, the place can’t hold the same sentiment of security for him anymore.

As he walks out, his phone buzzes in his pocket.

It has been insistently buzzing during his exam and he’s been avoiding it, not physically able to pick up during his exam.

Jimin rolls his eyes at the second vibration and finally withdraws his phone, noticing Taehyung’s name flashing across his screen.

“Tae,” Jimin says upon picking up. “I was in my exam, that’s why I couldn’t—“

“Jimin.”

His voice cracks through the line and all the words in Jimin’s throat immediately dies. He comes to a halt in the middle of the campus, clutching onto his phone tightly.

There’s a pause before Taehyung starts to sob.

The heart wrenching sounds of his crying pings at his chest, making it constrict painfully tight. Taehyung doesn’t even bother attempting to hide his crying, downright sobbing down the other line.

There’s nothing Jimin can do from the other line but wait.

“Taehyung… Taehyung.” He tries to attempt the man to calm down. “Listen. Talk to me, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Attempting to get Taehyung to come down was beginning to panic Jimin himself, his heart rate increasingly dramatically. He knows, truly, there’s something wrong and with each pause that Taehyung keeps extending through the line, the dread only continues. His mind wracks with possibilities. What could’ve gotten Taehyung so worked up, so broken? There’s only one thing that comes to mind.

“Taehyung.” Jimin’s voice is more stern now though hints of desperation, and plead, pour through. “Is Jeongguk okay? Taehyung.”

Taehyung sniffles and exhales shakily.

“No. You need to come to the hospital.”

Hospital.

Jimin’s chest heaves with just the word and he starts to shake his head, his own eyes tearing up. He doesn’t even know what’s going on but there’s a fear dwelling deep within him.

“What happened?”

“Jeongguk… uh, Guk,” he’s making an effort to sort through his thoughts but it delays the explanation and only irks Jimin, contributing to his impatience. “He was stabbed.”

“Stabbed?”

This time, Jimin can’t help the tears that roll down his cheeks when he blinks. He knew that Jeongguk had an upcoming fight but he wasn’t worried, he knew Jeongguk was victorious every time he stepped into the ring and was exceptional at exerting his dominance in such situations. He never needed to think twice about it.

Hearing Jeongguk had been stabbed is the last thing he had anticipated.

Jimin’s system begins to shut down, his mind becoming one tracked and focused solely on Jeongguk. His body is in a state of shock but he’s, regardless, beginning to walk out of the campus.

“Yeah…” Taehyung’s still crying from the other line, struggling to form coherent words. “He’s… he’s in a coma, Jimin. I need you to come here, please. I need you so fucking bad, please.”

Hospital. Stabbed. Coma.

Jimin has to take a deep breath when he asks.

“Is he going to be okay?”

An alarming feeling presses down on his lungs, making it difficult for him to think straight when Taehyung has to pause and quietly, regretfully, utter out a quiet: “We don’t know.”

(Mood: Mariana’s Trench - So Soon)

The entire train journey towards the hospital is spent in tears. Jimin pulls the hood of his jacket over his head, burying his head into the side as his body shakes with the force of his weeps. They’re powerful and overcome him strongly, making him tremble and he feels frigid, not in control of his own limbs.

Jimin knows he’s receiving stares. He can’t bring himself to care, doesn’t even bother to look up and acknowledge the glances. He knows that he’s going to get in trouble with Jaesun for potentially skipping on his shift that starts in less than two hours but he can’t focus on that fact right now.

When his train stop arrives and he gets off, ascending back into the city—Jimin feels his frenzy only beginning to escalate.

The hospital is crowded and hard to navigate, having to stop a few times and asking people to get around. His phone loses service so he can’t reach out to Taehyung. After wandering around aimlessly and going up the elevator, he finally arrives in the intensive care unit. When he spots Taehyung sitting outside, head in his hands and obviously crying, he breaks into a run.

“Taehyung!”

Taehyung’s head shoots up and his face further crumbles upon seeing Jimin, standing up and walking towards him.

Jimin had no composure over himself before but now, it completely slips. He can’t hold up the guard any longer and now that there’s no one to judge him, he begins to cry again. Taehyung joins in with him, burying his head into Jimin’s neck as he shudders.

“I-Is he okay?” Jimin asks uselessly, again.

“I don’t know.” Taehyung sniffles when he withdraws, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “There’s been no progress since last night.”

“Last night?” He blinks. “Why didn’t no one fucking tell me?”

“I… I was in a state of shock. Yoongi disappeared and fuck, I don’t even know where he is.” Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, looking truly apologetic. “I should’ve called you but… fuck, it’s been crazy and I just forgot and—”

“It’s fine,” Jimin cuts him off when he notices how the other man begins to ramble, eyes filling with tears again. He reaches over, squeezing Taehyung’s shoulder reassuringly. “Please, it’s fine. Where’s Yoongi hyung?”

Taehyung collapses back on the seat, shrugging.

“I don’t fucking know!” He whines. “He brought Jeongguk here and then called me. When I arrived, he… he really lost it, y’know? He explained and lost his temper, kicking the walls, screaming. They threatened to remove him from the premises and then… he just walked out and I couldn’t, can’t because Guk’s here.”

Jimin sighs and he sits down besides Taehyung, taking the man’s hand into his own and offering a small squeeze. Right now, all he can address is the steady horror that keeps sweeping into his organs and takes control. But if Taehyung doesn’t start to calm down, he’ll have a full blown panic attack and they need to keep a composure over themselves.

“How did it happen?” Jimin whispers after a few minutes of silence. “Who the fuck stabbed him?”

Taehyung waits a beat. His previous mourning is replaced with straight-up, unhindered anger. It takes over his features in a snarl, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he squeezes Jimin’s hand as if the mere thought of it physically tilts his world.

“It was Jan and his men. Jaesun, too.”

Jaesun.

Jimin’s eyes widen and promptly has the same reaction as Taehyung: fury.

“Jaesun? What… what do you mean?”

“Yoongi wasn’t making much sense,” Taehyung admits quietly. “Apparently, Jaesun ordered Jan to stab Jeongguk for what he did with you… and the whole trying to pay off your debt.” His cheeks flush. “I’m sorry. I don’t know if I’m supposed to know but I’ve kind of learnt about it now.”

Jimin can’t find it within him to be bothered about Taehyung knowing about his situation, not right now when there’s more pressing issues at hand that he needs to focus on.

“Fuck’s sake,” Jimin breathes out. He squeezes his eyes shut, his back slumping into the wall. “Jaesun wants Jeongguk dead?”

“I guess so.”

“I can’t fucking believe this!”

Jimin’s voice raises and he has to physically rub at his temples to force the boiling sensation that threatens to pour over. He knows they’re in a civilised environment and he doesn’t want to cause a scene but there’s nothing that can stop the anguish that fills within him.

Jeongguk’s in a hospital bed, in a coma, fighting for his life because he was trying to help Jimin and got caught up in the middle for it.

All Jimin had done was yell at him, tell him that he didn’t want to see Jeongguk anymore. He had told Jeongguk that the man had done nothing but ruin him, over and over. Just thinking back on that day, on that moment in specific makes Jimin’s eyes well up with moisture again as he whines under his breath.

“What have the doctors said?”

Taehyung takes a deep breath, running a hand through his matted, tangled hair. He looks like a sight. It’s clear he’s been awake all night, red rings under his eyes and exhaustion evident into his posture.

“He’s… he’s in a critical position. Jeongguk suffered from a blunt force trauma to the head, he had a brain hemorrhage and due to the bleeding, slipped into a coma. The stab wound was deep but didn’t manage to cut into any organs, he’s recovering well from that… it’s just, they got him really good and they don’t know—”

“He’s going to be fine.” Jimin cuts off.

The other possibility hurts too much to think about. The mere thought of Jeongguk’s last moments were Jan’s face, looming over his makes Jimin’s heart shrink. It’s not fair. The fact that Jimin’s last words to Jeongguk were spat out in anger, that he no longer means, no longer wants to enforce, makes him shudder. He’d do anything to take them back now.

“Can I see him?” Jimin whispers.

“Not right now,” Taehyung sighs. “He’s recovering from surgery right now.”

“He had surgery?” He blinks in surprise, one revelation hit in his face by another.

“They had to do a surgery to help calm down the swelling in his brain and prevent bleeding. They came and told me how he’s doing once he came out of surgery, Yoongi was already gone by then—they can’t confirm anything as he’s still in a coma.”

Jimin nods mutely as he wrings his fingers together, turmoil spinning inside of him.

The more Taehyung explains, the more it scares him. He knows Jeongguk is a fighter and he’s endured through a lot of suffering in his life, there’s a reason he’s an underground fighter and he had turned to boxing as a career. There’s a precise, long-winding explanation that Jimin has no real idea of.

But this isn’t something Jeongguk can easily walk away from.

“Do you have any idea where Yoongi could be?” Jimin asks once the silence stretches on for too long, the two of them dwelling on their thoughts quietly. “Do you want me to go look for him?”

Jimin doesn’t want to leave the hospital, or the waiting room. He wants to remain right here until he can see Jeongguk. But Taehyung looks torn and with each passing second, another silent tear rolls down his face. Jimin squeezes their conjoined hands as a sense of comfort.

“No… no.” Taehyung takes a deep breath, turning to face him. “We’re actually… we’re kind of dating, y’know? So I should be the one to find him.”

Another bombshell.

Jimin feels whiplash from the events occurring today, ranging from Jeongguk fighting for his life somewhere behind these doors as he remains in a state of complete unconsciousness to Taehyung and Yoongi dating.

“You… and Yoongi hyung… are dating?” Jimin repeats slowly, raising a brow.

Taehyung blushes just the slightest.

“Yeah. It’s, um. It’s pretty new to both of us so don’t feel like we were hiding it from you or anything.”

A part of him isn’t entirely surprised. After all, he remembers Yoongi’s efforts towards his surprise party and the way he had stuck devotedly to Taehyung’s side throughout the entire night. He had suspicions but he had never expected them to be confirmed so frankly right to his face.

“Oh.”

Taehyung offers a wobbly smile.

“I think I may know where he is,” Taehyung reassures as he lets go of their hands, standing up. He stretches an arm above his head, closing his eyes momentarily. “So, I’ll go and get him. You’ll stay here?”

“Of course.”

“Call me if there’s any updates, okay? Please. Let me know as soon as possible.”

“Of course, Taehyung.” He promises, knowing there’s no one else he’d reach out to first. “Congratulations, for you and Yoongi, I guess.”

Taehyung only nods, eyes crinkling with the slight smile that takes over his face though it seems to exhaust him to do so. He offers one last nod and a ‘call me’ sign with his fingers before he’s walking off, leaving Jimin alone in the waiting room.

Jimin’s not sure how long he waits.

It’s even harder to do so alone, no company surrounding him as he sits in the dull hospital waiting room and awaits further news. It’s more torturous this way, counting down every minute and still, receiving no news.

Taehyung texts him back and forth, checking up on him. He claims that he’s found Yoongi and is calming him down, they’ll be on their way to the hospital and that they all need to talk.

Jimin supposes that makes sense.

He keeps his phone switched on but adamant on not using it, unable to provide attention towards the people he attempts to communicate with. When Jaesun starts calling him, probably wondering where he is when his shift has started already, Jimin turns his phone to silent and buries it deep into his pocket.

Eventually, a doctor wanders outside towards the waiting room. He notices Jimin and offers a hesitant, half-smile, forced to take over his features.

“Hello. Are you here for Jeon Jeongguk?”

Jimin jumps up from his seat at the mention of Jeongguk’s name, walking up to him. He nods, clutching his hands tightly.

“Yes, yes. I am. Is he okay?” The burst of question rolls off his tongue easily.

The doctor shrugs helplessly.

“He’s out of intensive care unit and been transferred to his room. The stab wound has been treated and taken care of. The bleed in his brain, we’re unsure of and we’re trying our hardest but he’s made no progress since he slipped into a coma.”

That isn’t the news Jimin wants to hear. He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath to placate himself from screaming out loud. He’s frustrated. He’s outraged. He’s crying for Jeongguk’s justice, red spots of blind anger blurring his vision.

“But… but, is he going to be okay?”

The doctor waits for a minute, sympathy pouring into his features.

“We can’t be sure just yet. Even if he wakes up, we can’t be sure of the extent of the damage, whether or not it affected him at all—like his speech. Also, there’s possible complications that can occur. We’re trying our hardest.”

Jimin nods and as much as he doesn’t want to believe any of the words he’s being told, he knows there’s no other reality right now.

“Can I see him, please?” He whispers, afraid of raising his voice because being rejected of seeing Jeongguk may break his heart permanently.

The doctor fiddles his face mask, putting it back onto his face before he nods.

“Yeah. You can, now. He’s still in a coma so he’s potentially not aware of his surroundings but, sure.”

Jimin feels relief flood into him. He had been suffering for the entire time he had been sitting alone, awaiting news and now that he has—he doesn’t think he could just go on without seeing Jeongguk. Though there hasn’t been a confirmation that he’ll survive, make a full recovery, Jimin just needs to be around his presence right now. He needs to see Jeongguk for himself, with his own two eyes.

“Okay, thank you, sir.”

The doctor leads Jimin down the winding hallway, into a separate, closed off room. The curtains are drawn and he knows behind him them lays the man that has Jimin’s heart in the palm of his hands.

The doctor grants Jimin privacy as he nods, leaving him alone.

Jimin takes a deep breath before he shoots Taehyung a text update, delaying the inevitable because as much as he wants to, he’s also dreading seeing Jeongguk. He knows the condition the man will be in and he knows seeing Jeongguk in such a state will scar him.

The minutes pass and he finally gains the courage, gathering himself and stepping into the room, behind the curtain.

As promised, Jeongguk lays there. As expected, he’s in a state that’s hard to look at.

He has tubes coming out of every inch of his body, plugged into machines to help him function properly since he’s unconscious. There’s a thick bandage around his forehead, concealing him. He lays lifeless on the bed, shirtless with another bandage around his torso, presumably from the stab wound.

Jeongguk looks so vulnerable like this. He looks completely defenceless. His chest barely heaves with his light breathing. There’s cuts all over his face, a seemingly deeper one on his cheek that’s been stitched together, holding in place with the thread.

“Baby…” Jimin can’t help the word of sentiment that escapes him, the sound coming out choked. He’s alone in the room and he knows Jeongguk can’t process what he’s saying but regardless, it feels wrong to say it. Especially after how Jimin had treated Jeongguk. “Fucking hell.”

It’s hard to watch Jeongguk in this state and with each passing moment, his heart sinks further and further.

He walks towards the bed as much as he doesn’t want to. He does, anyway. Jimin grabs the chair off the wall, aligning it next to Jeongguk where his head has rolled back on the pillow in obvious discomfort. Jimin wonders if he’s still in pain even whilst he’s in a coma and the thought agonises him.

Jimin reaches out for Jeongguk’s bandaged hand, a cannula stuck inside as a blood tranfusion takes place to replace Jeongguk’s loss.

His thumb gently brushes across Jeongguk’s knuckles in a soothing manner, knowing these actions aren’t registering to Jeongguk at all. He attempts to keep his emotions at bay but upon the sight of Jeongguk looking so weak, he can’t stop the tears from falling once again.

He doesn’t try to hold them back, either.

He’s alone in the hospital room with an unconscious Jeongguk who’s not sensing anything that’s happening, who doesn’t understand how truly apologetic Jimin is. Whilst Jimin still holds his ground about the fact that Jeongguk shouldn’t of been snooping around, approaching Jaesun without confirming details of the story—he can’t seem to bring himself to care about any of it as he holds Jeongguk’s hand and sobs into him.

He lifts the hand to his lips, kissing it with trembling lips.

“Jeongguk…” Jimin begins to talk again though his voice shakes. He’s not strong enough for this, he can’t shoulder the sight of Jeongguk before him but he still keeps fierce eye contact on the boys closed eyes. He sniffles before he continues. “I’m sorry. I hope you know that. I was mad, I was saying shit I didn’t mean. I don’t want you to stay away, fuck’s sake. Not in the slightest.” He pauses. “You’ve… you’ve come into my life and you’ve taught me lessons both bad and good, both pain and happiness and I can’t… I don’t want to lose you now, Guk. I fucking can’t. You’ve left your mark on me, you’ve got me completely wrapped up in your fingers and, fuck.”

Jimin has to cut himself off for a moment, his vision obscured as he bawls into their conjoined hands.

When he looks up and sees no change, no movement in Jeongguk, he continues.

“Fuck, Jeongguk. You can’t give up on me now, not when you’ve gone and done this to me. Not when you’ve made me fall in love with you. I love you, Jeongguk. Please, please pull through.”

Jimin’s thoughts and sincere words are interrupted by someone clearing their throat, standing by the door. When he looks up, he notices both Taehyung and Yoongi hand-in-hand, looking at him. There’s a certain glisten in Taehyung’s eyes as he walks in, nudging Yoongi along.

Jimin looks up to Yoongi, lips curling downwards.

“You okay, hyung?”

Yoongi doesn’t respond immediately, taking a minute to wipe away his dry eyes before nodding.

“I’m getting there, you?”

“I’m… I’ll be okay once we know.”

Yoongi seems to understand that because he doesn’t say anything else, just glancing to the door.

“We need to talk, Jimin. About everything.”

Jimin glances to Jeongguk where he lays, still sound asleep. He doesn’t want to leave his bedside, terrified of the boy waking up alone and still thinking Jimin wants to stay away. He’d do anything to go back in time, to remove the hurt intended behind his words and transform what he had uttered in a moment of complete anger.

“Sure. I think we do, as well.”

The three of them walk out of the room, down to the ground floor of the hospital where there’s a cafeteria for the visitors. Taehyung grabs them a table, seating Yoongi down before disappearing to order them some food despite the fact that Jimin couldn’t stomach anything right now.

Yoongi doesn’t make eye contact with him, folding his hands on top of the table and fiddling with his thumbs. There’s clear distaste in the atmosphere between them and Jimin wonders whether or not he knows how Jimin had treated Jeongguk prior to the events that happened yesterday.

Taehyung returns with three coffees and a slice of red velvet cake, putting it in the middle of them though no one reaches for it.

Jimin mutters a ‘thank you’ under his breath as he accepts the coffee, blowing on the warm liquid but no intentions of swallowing.

They all sit in silence. It’s a little awkward, considering the current circumstances until Taehyung finally speaks up.

“I guess, let’s just start from the beginning so this can begin to make some sense to all of us. Jeongguk had gone to the club to meet a man named Jaesun, because of you?” He directs towards Jimin, raising a brow up at him.

Jimin clears his throat as he traces the rim of his cup with his index finger, trying to delay the inevitable. He’s never spoken about his deal with Jaesun frankly, has always attempted to hide the part of his life that he’s most shameful for.

Hoseok and Namjoon are the only two people who are aware and they readily support him, through everything. It’s nerve wracking to sit before two people that Jimin’s become completely comfortable around and confess a part of him that keeps him up at nights. He swallows around the lump in his throat, speaking softly.

“Because of me.” He affirms. “He wanted to pay off my debt.”

There’s a long pause and then Yoongi’s looking up to him, raising a brow.

“Debt?”

“Yeah.” Jimin pushes through without a beat, not hesitating. He’s been concealing this part of his life for so long and it had managed to injure the only man he’s ever loved in his life. It’s time to be open, to be honest. “I have a debt to Jaesun, worth… honestly, I don’t know? My father, he was a horrible, horrible man. He was an addict and he approached loan sharks often to feed his addictions. Jaesun was just someone he owed a lot of money to but my father went missing. Jaesun’s men, one day, jumped me from behind, grabbed me and told me they owned me until I paid off my father’s debt. That’s all I’ve been doing ever since, for a while. I work at the strip club that Jaesun owns, making money to pay off the debt.”

“But how does that relate to Jeongguk?”

“Guk overheard at the party about my problem. I was talking to Hoseok hyung about it and he overheard, took it upon himself to solve the problem. He went into the club, he threw money into Jaesun’s face and well… yeah. I just don’t understand why Jan was involved.”

Yoongi snorts, looking bitter. “Jaesun and Jan are related.”

Jimin blinks in surprise, clutching onto his cup of coffee harder as he tries to soak in the warmth that radiates from the ceramic. That wasn’t something he had anticipated, had never even imagined the two men would know each other.

“Oh.” He breathes out, finally raising the cup to take a sip of the now lukewarm drink.

“About Jeongguk’s sister…” Yoongi continues. “That girl, Sun, at the club? It’s definitely his sister.”

Taehyung’s head snaps to Yoongi in surprise, bewilderment registering in his features. It must be, obviously, his first time hearing about Jeongguk’s sister. Jimin feels a sense of regret at keeping the man out of loop with the news, keeping his finger grazing over his cup.

“How’d you know?” Jimin asks.

“I’ve been following her around recently, after hours in the club. I researched and asked Seokjin to do some digging around for me. Jeon Sunhye, Jeongguk’s sister. She goes by the name ‘Sun’ when she’s working with Jaesun.”

By now, it has been confirmed to Jimin that there is a big possibility that the girl was Jeongguk’s sister. He had known from the first time he had set sights on her and how she shared the same features, the same habits. Even the aura that she carried around herself related directly to Jeongguk.

Jimin’s heart aches for Jeongguk, aches for Sunhye.

“Why does she work with Jaesun, then?”

“She was homeless. Guk’s father died only a year after Jeongguk left his home and she had no one to take care of her. She was fourteen, defenceless. Jaesun approached her, took her under his wings and she felt indebted to him.”

Taehyung still looked completely perplexed, eyes darting between the other two men.

“You found Jeongguk’s sister?” He interrupts. “I thought she was dead?”

Yoongi hums. “Jeongguk thought Sunhye was dead, yeah but apparently not. She’s alive, she’s well and she’s been working for Jaesun for many years now, too.”

It’s berserk to Jimin how he’s been working for the same man who’s been managing Sunhye, too. In more ways than one, he’s been connected to Jeongguk from the start. He had been the one to fortunately bring Jeongguk back to his sister.

If Jeongguk manages to wake up from the coma.

Jimin shakes his head furiously at his own thought, refusing to dwell on the fact that Jeongguk may not wake up. It’s too painful to entertain the idea. Jeongguk has to pull through, he has to wake up—there’s no other option.

Yoongi reaches out to card a hand through Taehyung’s hair, trying to placate him.

“I’ll explain everything, I promise.” He reassures.

Taehyung doesn’t seem pleased but he sinks into the touch, not arguing as he nods.

Yoongi turns to look back at Jimin, eyes narrowing a little as he lifts the cup of coffee and tentatively takes a sip. He’s trying to look as composed as possible but his entire frame is shaking, a clear sign that he’s still reeling from what has happened.

“I know Jeongguk will want to see Sunhye when he wakes up.” Yoongi says. “I know you said you want Jeongguk to stay away from you, Jimin, and I don’t know if that still stands but do me a favour. Go to the club, get Sunhye and bring her here.”

Jimin’s eyes widen as he leans forward.

“That doesn’t still stand, hyung. I… I never meant that, Yoongi.”

Yoongi doesn’t seem too bothered.

“Can you get Sunhye here? Do you think you can manage that?” He asks instead, ignoring all of what Jimin’s said and raises a brow towards him.

The thought of entering back into the strip club after what he’s learnt is exasperating, already delivering bursts of anxiety exploding inside of him but he can’t let Yoongi down. Yoongi’s looking at him with a skeptical, expectant look and though Taehyung seems confused, he’s also giving Jimin a hopeful expression.

Jimin’s not sure he’d be able to control himself if he went back to the club and had to face Jaesun. But he’ll do it. He’ll do it all over for Jeongguk, if he had to.

“Of course, I will.”

Yoongi’s expression doesn’t shift, distrust in his features but his eyes soften just the slightest —a clear indicator that he’s taking heed to his words. He nods, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Thank you.”

The last place Jimin wants to be right now is the club.

The sky is darkening and the night falls before him steadily, making the air chillier as he wraps an arm around himself and holds himself up. He was supposed to have started his shift approximately four hours ago and his phone has been vibrating insistently, messages and missed calls pouring in.

Jimin can’t bring himself to care, though. He’s here with a purpose and he’s going to leave with that purpose fulfilled.

Jimin pulls the surgical mask over his face, concealing himself as he tries to collect warmth from his jacket and begins to walk into the club. It’s crowded and stuffy, there’s the smell of sex that lingers in the air, mixed with the stench of marijuana that makes Jimin’s insides crawl.

He keeps his gaze diverted downwards, not daring to attract any attention to himself.

He has a task to do and he needs to follow through with it and then he needs to leave.

Jimin walks further into the club, pushing through drunken bodies and rowdy men that gather around the tables and leer at the strippers. He cranes his neck around, trying to seek out one person in particular. Jimin’s never seen Sunhye working the public floor before and he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to find her if she isn’t tonight, either.

He can’t let his plan fail. Yoongi’s trusting him, putting faith into him and Jimin doesn’t want to break that.

Jimin explores further around the club, narrowly avoiding anyone’s gazes. Every time he finds someone staring at him for too long, he hides under the dark corners of the club until their suspicions have subsided, emerging again and searching. As expected, Sunhye’s nowhere to be found.

Jimin wanders through the ‘staff only’, into the restricted area.

He knows it’s a dangerous feat, especially considering how he’s effectively ignoring Jaesun and going directly against his orders—but determination runs in his blood.

Sunhye’s in her dressing room.

She’s a beautiful vision. Small and petite but fierce with the way she strongly holds her gaze to her own reflection in the mirror, scowling at herself. She’s dressed, once again, in expensive lacy lingerie, concealed just the slightest with a silk robe. Upon noticing someone entering the room, Sunhye turns to face him. Her lips twitch into a smile.

“Park Jimin. I was wondering when you’d make an appearance again,” Sunhye smiles, her tone nothing but accommodating towards him considering they’ve established some sort of rapport. “Jaesun was really yelling about you before. What did you do?”

Jimin takes a deep breath, collecting himself. As much as he wants to indulge her question, he cuts straight to the chase. He pulls the mask off his face, eyeing Sunhye intensely.

“Jeongguk’s your brother. Jeon Jeongguk.”

There’s a deafening pause and he watches how Sunhye’s expression changes. It shifts from comfortable, inviting to immediately retreating back into her shell, guarded. She furrows her brows, standing up from where she sits but not walking towards him.

“What the fuck?” Sunhye breathes out.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“How the fuck do you know that name?”

Jimin shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He reaches up to massage his temples, trying to destress himself before he speaks.

“You think your brother’s dead, Sunhye and I’m here to tell you, he’s not. He’s not dead, Sunhye.”

Sunhye looks even more puzzled now and there’s a look that takes over her face that Jimin can’t decipher.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Park Jimin.” Her tone is icy as she turns her back to him, refusing to face him any longer. She’s so young. Jimin remembers how Jeongguk mentioned she’d only be seventeen right now, underage and definitely doesn’t belong under Jaesun. “You don’t know shit. Please, stop fucking talking.”

“Jeongguk’s… I’m in love with that man, okay? Jeongguk is alive, he’s alive and well and I’m in love with him.”

“Stop—”

“But he’s also in hospital and I need you to be there when he wakes up, Sunhye.”

Sunhye halts and she turns to face him again, tears building up in her eyes. Vulnerability shines through her features and for the first time, she looks timid. She usually holds power and dominance whenever she stands in a room, naturally oozing of influence despite her small frame and her young age. Right now, all of those melt away and she’s seen for what she is: frightened.

“Hospital? My brother’s in hospital?”

“Yes.” Jimin confirms with a nod. “Jaesun ordered a hit on him, okay? Jaesun... he’s not a good person, Sunhye. I don’t know what you think of him, don’t know what illusion he’s got you under but he’s not good.”

Sunhye waits a beat before she raises her brow precisely.

“You think that I think Jaesun’s a good man?” She snorts.

“I…” Jimin falters. “I don’t know.”

“Jaesun kidnapped me, made me work under him as a sex slave since I was fourteen, Jimin.” Sunhye drawls the words out, her lips twisting into a disgusted expression as she stares at Jimin. “If I had to give him up, I’d testify within a heartbeat to send that disgusting man down, Jimin. I hate him.”

Jimin has to physically take a step back. He feels maddened with the fury that overtakes him, almost making him see red. He doesn’t know how many times he’ll be able to swallow down his anger. He needs to do something. He needs to, for once, step up and put Jaesun back in his space.

Jaesun has terrorised his life for years, now. He’s pushed and pulled Jimin into any direction he wanted, bent him over tables and pushed him into his knees and used Jimin within an inch of his life. Jaesun put out a hit on Jeongguk, the reason Jeongguk is laying in a coma in hospital right now and he kidnapped Sunhye.

“You stand by that? You’d really testify against Jaesun?”

Sunhye nods without wasting a second. “Yes. I even have a video of him mistreating me.”

Jimin shuts his eyes for a second, mind wracking with the hundred spinning thoughts that consume him. He takes a deep breath, slipping into a headspace that means business and nothing less.

He fiddles with his pocket, picking out a Yoongi’s car keys.

“Listen to me,” Jimin whispers, voice barely audible. He’s afraid of being overheard and his plan falling short. He holds onto the wrath coursing through his veins, knowing it’s the only way he’ll get through this. “This is Jeongguk’s best friend’s car keys, okay?” He hands it over to Sunhye who hesitates before a shaking hand reaches for it, taking it into her palm. “It’s parked two blocks down, on Euliji-ro road. It’s a silver Land Rover. Unlock the car, get in and wait for me.”

Sunhye’s eyes flood with uncertainty even as he holds onto the keys, shaking her head.

“I don’t know you, Jimin. How do I trust you?”

Jimin feels pity spreading through his body for Sunhye, unable to watch her beaten up expression for much longer. He withdraws his phone, pulling up his camera roll to a picture of Jeongguk he had taken on Taehyung’s birthday party. It was before their lives had destructed, when Jeongguk was happy as he clapped along to Taehyung cutting his cake.

He shows Sunhye the picture, holding his phone up for her to observe.

“That was only a few days ago. That’s Jeongguk, Sunhye.”

Sunhye’s face crumbles as she starts to cry, eyes filtering over the picture numerous times as she tries to soak in every detail of the picture. She seems to be in a state of disbelief, her lip wobbling.

“That’s… that’s my brother.” She whispers, voice cracking.

“It is.” Jimin affirms. “Here.” He hands the phone over to her, along with the keys that she already holds, wanting Sunhye to trust him. “Go to the car, find Yoongi’s number on my phone and call him. He’ll explain everything, he’s been taking care of Jeongguk ever since he left your home. I just need to do something here and I’ll be there. I’ll take us to the hospital, you can meet Jeongguk. I promise, Sunhye. I won’t let Jaesun own you anymore.”

Sunhye still seems unsure but she grabs ahold of the phone, clutching onto it tightly. She hesitates before she whimpers, looking precautious.

“I-Is Jeongguk okay? Why’s he in hospital?”

Jimin sighs. “We don’t know yet, Sunhye. Yoongi will explain everything once you call him. Go, please—before someone sees us.”

It seems like Sunhye almost wants to object, wants to throw both the objects in her hand back at him but she decides against it. She starts to make a move. Somehow, she had chose to trust Jimin. She withdraws her clothes and her coat from her locker, wrapping the woolly fabric over herself.

Just before she rushes out of the room, she turns to face Jimin. There’s moisture in her doey, big eyes.

“Thank you, Jimin.” She whispers before she retreats.

(Mood: Florence and The Machine - Which Witch)

Jimin watches her figure fade into the distance, holding his breath until Sunhye safely slips out of the staff restricted area and into the open where she can’t be physically, and obviously, stopped.

He counts to ten and then backwards before he nods, coming to an acceptance of what he wants to do.

Jaesun deserves to be put back in his space. He deserves to get a taste of his own medicine, deserves to get the way he treats others forced back to his face. Jimin wonders who managed to bloat his ego so much that he thinks he’s in charge of people’s lives, their emotions and their feelings. Jimin’s had enough. If Jeongguk being in a coma wasn’t the last straw, a glimpse into Sunhye’s story pushed him right there.

Jimin slips into a persona he’s never adopted before. Vicious, out for blood and vengeful.

He walks out of the dressing room, fists clenched by his side as he walks down to Jaesun’s office. If Jimin thinks he’s making a mistake, of any kind, the thought doesn’t register within him. He doesn’t even hesitate as he opens the door to the office, stepping inside and slamming it shut.

The sudden sound and appearance of Jimin makes Jaesun jump from where he sits, head snapping up.

The initial apprehension melts right off Jaesun’s face when he meets Jimin’s gaze, recognising who stands before him. His guarded stance resumes to his slouched position, sitting back on his chair behind the desk.

“You’re late.”

Jimin clicks his tongue, nodding in affirmation.

“That, I am.”

“Well, why the fuck are you still standing here, then?” Jaesun demands to know, throwing the paper in his hand down on the desk—a clear sign of some sort of frustration. “Why the fuck aren’t you on your knees, yet? Like the fucking slut that you are, huh?”

On any other day, the words would’ve stung Jimin.

In the beginning when he first started working for Jaesun, he had been completely caught off guard by the barbarous words that escaped Jaesun’s mouth. He had always been cutthroat and he was shameless whilst doing so. But it’s time to bring Jaesun’s reign down, demolish him for all his worth.

“I quit.” Jimin announces boldly.

Jaesun’s fiddling with some money notes when he says the words. He halts his action, pausing mid-air of the action as he looks up slowly.

“Sorry, Jimin? What did you just say?”

There’s no backing down now. The words have been said. They hang heavy in the air between them, thickening the tension. On any other occasion, Jimin might’ve been afraid.

Right now, he feels nothing. He feels like he’s floating.

“I said,” Jimin repeats his words as he takes a step further into the room, holding Jaesun’s gaze with unwavering, confident eyes. “I fucking quit.”

Jaesun blinks in surprise and a short laugh escapes his lips. He sighs like he can’t believe he has to deal with this, putting the notes down and standing up from his chair. He walks around the desk, walking towards Jimin with a menacing look fixed on his face. Jaesun’s hand reaches out for Jimin, to presumably inflict damage but Jimin’s quicker.

Jimin hasn’t had any training sessions for a long while. He hasn’t wrapped the boxing tape around his knuckles and punched the pads for so long, he’s sure his knowledge is non existent.

Yet when Jaesun struts towards him, it’s like Jimin’s fists move on their own accord.

Before Jaesun can strike him first, Jimin’s hand curl in his strands of hair and tugs the man right where he wants him. Upon seeing Jaesun gasp in surprise, Jimin feels a thrill shoot down his spine. He’s never managed to gain an upperhand beyond the two of them. The feeling only stimulates him further when he brings his fist down on Jaesun’s jaw.

Jaesun wriggles in the hold, trying to break free but Jimin navigates the man with his fingers still clenched tightly in his hair.

He knows that Jaesun’s a bigger and possibly, stronger man. He knows his plan could dangerously backfire, could leave him crippled or worse, dead. Jimin knows he’s following through his plan spontaneously but he’s enraged, he’s out for blood and he’s out to inflict every ounce of pain Jaesun’s made him suffer with, made Sunhye and Jeongguk suffer with.

“Jimin, fucking let go.”

Jimin clicks his tongue and another surge of confidence washes over him, egged on by the image of Jeongguk’s lifeless, comatose body lying in hospital, by the image of frightened Sunhye, taking shelter in Yoongi’s car right now. He punches Jaesun again, to quieten him down.

“Listen to me, you old man.”

“Jimin—”

“How fucking dare you hurt Jeongguk.”

“Ah,” Jaesun drawls despite his position in the situation underneath Jimin’s hand. Apparently, that doesn’t seem to intimidate him in the slightest as he rolls his eyes. “This is about loverboy, huh?”

The mere sound of his voice angers Jimin and he doesn’t waste time to raise his fist again, striking Jaesun right on the eye and again, just because he remembers how to throw an uppercut punch that Yoongi had taught him and he wants to honour that.

Jaesun’s reeling from the punches, head rolling to the wall as he rests from the pain.

“D’you what this is about?” Jimin leans in to whisper in Jaesun’s ear despite his reluctance, having to keep himself together. “This is about you thinking you can take over people’s lives, own them like they’re your property.”

Jaesun waits a beat before he looks up to Jimin.

“But you are my property.”

Just for that comment, Jimin takes the liberty of punching him again. It’s a freeing feeling to be able to do so, to raise his hand on Jaesun after all the times he had been covered in bruises, struggling to conceal them and hide away this part of his life. Every punch ignites his bones, makes him feel alive.

“I’m not your property. You don’t fucking own me.”

“Jimin, you’re going to regret this so bad. Let go of me, right now.”

Jimin shakes his head and he tightens his hold over Jaesun’s hair considerably more, wanting to the man to stop talking. Jaesun had done enough talking for a lifetime. Now, it’s time for him to listen.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Jimin’s voice is a hushed whisper, keeping an intense eye contact with Jaesun. He means business. He’s here to ensure that he never has to return to the club again, that Jaesun will never have the power to hurt someone again. “You’re going to back off.”

Jaesun chokes on a laugh.

“Back off?”

“You’re going to back off. You’re going to leave me the fuck alone, you’re never going to reach out to me again. D’you fucking understand me, Jaesun?”

The older man looks amused more than anything. The gravity of the situation hasn’t seemed to sink into him, his features tingling with hilarity as he tilts his head to the side and fixes Jimin with a glare.

“Or what, Jimin? Or what are you going to do?”

Jimin growls as he raises his fists, punching Jaesun a few more times. He tries out all the different techniques he’s been taught, specifically the jab. Jaesun seems disorientated from the assault, head spinning when he looks up and his composure finally slipping.

“How’d the police like to know about this club, hm?” Jimin arches a brow. “Illegal drugs, unpaid sex workers and sex trafficking.”

“Jimin—”

“Kidnapping a fourteen year old girl?” He presses on, tutting under his breath and shaking his head. “The police would eat that news up. An underage girl, made to be a sex slave forcibly.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

“Do I not, Jaesun?” Jimin questions, tilting his head to the side. “Sun, the girl you employed or forced to work for you more like, has told me everything,”

Jaesun has never truly looked disturbed. For as long as Jimin has known him and worked under him, the man has had a stoic, hardened face and he hardly reveals any of his true emotions for others to gauge at.

Yet now, discomfort crosses him and he doesn’t even try to hide it.

Jimin laughs—it’s an evil cackle, falling from his lips before he can prevent himself—and using the hold on Jaesun’s hair, tugs him to the wall and pins him down.

“She’s lying.”

Just for that comment, Jimin feels compelled to punch him again. His knuckles are beginning to feel sore and swollen, over exerting his muscles since this is the first time he’s physically laid hands on another man. But he can’t bring himself to ask. Right now, it’s all about getting the revenge he came here to seek for, getting justice for Jeongguk, the young girl and himself.

“So here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to back down, you’re going to stop coming for me, for Jeongguk, for his sister and anyone, really. I will take you down.”

Jaesun tilts his head even with the tight hold over his hair and smirks.

“Take me down then, sweetheart. Don’t forget I have shit on you too, I can easily take you down with me.”

Jimin barely has to hesitate before the next answer leaves his mouth, so worked up that he’s not thinking through his words. This is his time to shine. This is his time to put Jaesun back in his space, resume the power over his own body.

“Do it.” Jimin challenges, eyes darkening as he tightens his fingers in Jaesun’s hair and watches the way the man has to close his eyes. “Take me down with you, Jaesun. Guess what? I’ll happily do my time in prison if it means you’ll go down, you’ll be behind bars for all your worth.”

“I’ll just fucking kill you.”

Jimin hums like it’s a good idea that Jaesun had formed.

“You could…” his voice trails off, trying to feign disinterest though his heart is hammering and the blood is pumping twice as fast around his body. “But here’s the problem, Sun has a video of you mistreating her. If you think she was your stupid sex slave, and nothing else, you were wrong.”

A look of dismay passes through Jaesun, his eyes widening comically as disbelief crosses him. He looks over Jimin like he’s trying to detect the lie. Jimin remains still and his expression remains hardened, not easing up. He holds his exterior fiercely.

Jimin continues when Jaesun doesn’t respond.

“So you can kill me, Jaesun. But that video, I’ve already made hundreds of copies,” Jimin lies right through his teeth. He’s gotten exceptional at lying, the words leave his mouth smoothly without a hiccup. “Take me down, someone else will just try and expose the video instead. Don’t you get it, Jaesun? For once, you’re not going to win.”

“Jimin—” His tone is warningly.

It doesn’t please Jimin. He’s sick and tired of hearing that tone being thrown his way, like he’s supposed to fall to his knees in front of Jaesun every time there’s a hint of danger. He tugs Jaesun’s hair hard enough to wonder how strands aren’t falling out of his head by now, eyes tightening with fury building behind his dark orbs.

“You will rot in prison if you don’t stop. You don’t touch me ever again, d’you fucking understand?” Jimin spits at him. “You don’t touch me. I’m not yours anymore. You don’t touch Jeongguk, you don’t touch anyone ever fucking again.”

Jaesun attempts to wiggle out of the hold, to try and assume any dominance he has left in the situation but Jimin catches on quickly.

Just because he can, because he’s feeling high off the feeling—he raises his fist and uppercuts Jaesun’s chin, making his head fall back harshly and spit out the first sight of blood. Jimin’s veins electrify, feeling himself coming back to life slowly with each minute of their interaction. He can’t recall how long he’s been waiting for this.

“Don’t try anything funny,” Jimin leans in to whisper. “Look at your position right now. You have two people who’ll testify against you, a video proof, and an entire club full of drugs and illegal workers. Look at who owns you right now, Jaesun. It’s me. I fucking own you right now, you’re mine.”

Jaesun actually releases a slow sound at the back of his throat that sounds a lot like a whimper.

Jimin finally takes a step once. He could continue speaking for hours, he could name every injustice that Jaesun has delivered to him, each abusive word that’s been thrown to his face. But right now, there’s more pressing issues at hand. Jeongguk, who’s fighting for his life in a coma, and the broken girl in Yoongi’s car. They’re more important.

Jimin keeps on defence, though. Even as he moves away from Jaesun, he keeps his hand ready to strike.

“I hope we’re in an understanding,” Jimin continues. A part of him knows this is probably not the end but if Jaesun’s wise enough, he’ll realise he’s in a compromising position. “I hope we never have to see each other again.”

With that, Jimin runs.

He doesn’t take one last glance at Jaesun, doesn’t stop to look at the club. He runs right out of the club, his feet carrying him as fast as they can manage as he reaches the Land Rover. As promised, Sunhye’s sitting inside.

She has her head in her heads, her legs curled up to her chest in a fetal position and she’s crying.

Her whole body shakes with the momentous force of her sobbing, the phone in her hand indicating she’s still on the line with Yoongi.

Jimin eases into his seat, thoughts still in overdrive as he starts up the car. His hands shake as he does so, still thriving off the adrenaline that pumps through his body. He glances over to Sunhye once, lips twitching from the need to comfort.

“Sunhye,” Jimin whispers to her. He only reaches out for her, tentatively, once he’s started to drive and they’re going as far away from the club as possible. “We’ve got you now. You’re safe now.”

When Jeongguk comes around, he distinctly feels like he’d rather go back to sleep again.

Agony addresses him before he can even open his eyes, it explodes within every muscle in his body. He feels like he weighs a hundred tonne, paralysed to where he lays. His head feels hefty, pounding against his skull and making it hard to think straight. Jeongguk groans under his breath, trying to shift on the bed he lays to get comfortable.

His stomach aches. His wrist is, for sure, broken if the pain is any indicator and his head makes him feel crushed.

“I think he’s awake.” He hears someone say. A girl’s voice, one that Jeongguk doesn’t recognise.

Jeongguk squints his eyes shut harder, not wanting to open them. He wants to go back to sleep. He hurts all over, every inch of his body protesting against him. He’s not strong enough for this. He slips back into sleep.

When Jeongguk comes around the second time, it’s still just as painful. This time, he feels more adjusted like he’s been expecting it and he begins to register his surroundings without even opening his eyes. He can sense that he’s not in the comfort his own home, that he’s in a place where there’s whirring machines, bustle of unknown people whizzing around the room.

Jeongguk gives himself a second before his eyes fluttering open, his orbs burning from the brightness of the room.

“S-shit,” he mumbles under his breath.

He recloses to adjust before he focuses on the room once again. It’s a plain, white room but he’s not alone in here. It’s a hospital. Jeongguk frowns as he looks down at himself. He’s covered in a hospital gown but there’s bandages all over his body, tubes entering his chest and his hand veins and liquids being pumped into him.

The memory begins to flood Jeongguk slowly.

He remembers the dark alleyway where Yoongi had been held back by a man whilst Jeongguk was ruthlessly, senselessly beaten. He remembers taking a bat to the head, one that had made him stumble and weakened him considerably so the stabbing came easily.

“Fuck.” He says, his voice hoarse and cracking, barely coming out.

Jeongguk takes a moment before he looks up, focusing on the two people that are present in the hospital room.

Yoongi stands there, near the window. He looks disturbed and hints of distress display clearly on his features, biting on his nails as he looks warily at Jeongguk like he’s afraid it’s too good to be true that he’s awake. His eyes are swollen and there’s tear tracks down his cheeks, a clear indicator he’s been crying for a while.

Just watching him makes Jeongguk’s heart constricts and he attempts to shake his head.

“H-hyung, no.”

The words make Yoongi bite down harder, another burst of tears overtaking him as he looks away.

Jeongguk frowns but his eyes keep travelling, onto the next person standing besides him. It’s a girl. He hasn’t talked to many girls since he started fighting, his inner circle mainly men. He doesn’t recognise her at first. He keeps scanning her all over, trying to figure out who she is. Is she related to Yoongi?

Upon second inspection, it hits Jeongguk. Realisation slams into him hard as his eyes widen.

“S-Sunhye?”

The girl exhales and nods from where she stands, timid and sheltering behind Yoongi’s body.

Jeongguk’s not sure whether or not he believes it. It’s been so long since he had last seen Sunhye, when she was still a young teenager and had no idea what the world had in store for her, when she was tucked into bed. He had slipped out of the house and he had escaped with no intentions of looking back. He had been convinced that somewhere down the line, Sunhye had been killed by their father.

Yet she stands before him now.

She’s still strikingly as beautiful as Jeongguk remembers. She just looks older now, more mature with faint wrinkle lines that overtake her face and she holds herself together like she’s shouldering the entire world on her shoulders.

Jeongguk aches. He doesn’t want to remember the way he had betrayed her, abandoned her.

“What’re you doing here?” He attempts to ask but he can’t finish his sentence, the overwhelming need to cry overtaking him as he bursts into tears.

It requires energy that he doesn’t have to cry. There’s no strength left in his body, feeling weakened and fatigued. He’s definitely been out of his senses for more than a day.

Yoongi steps forward as he sniffles, wiping his nose with his sleeves. He places a tentative hand on Sunhye’s shoulder, pulling her back a little.

“Guk. The doctor needs to check up on you, okay? Then we can talk. You just woke up from a coma.”

A coma.

That oddly seems to make sense to Jeongguk. Tears still filter down his face silently as he nods, burying his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes.

“How long have I been out for?” He questions.

“Two days and this whole afternoon, so far.” Yoongi provides him with the details.

They fall into silence and wait for the doctor to come in, do his rounds.

An hour later, the doctor gives his full verdict.

Jeongguk’s been in a comatose state for two days and half now. He had a brain hemorrhage but they managed to stop the bleeding and alleviate most of the swelling, though it’s still present hence Jeongguk’s maddening headache. He was stabbed but he’s recovering remarkably well. There’s a few broken bones, specifically his wrist that’s been snapped in two places, but it’s been casted and taken care of effectively. The doctor also reassures there seems to be no long-lasting damage from his brain injury. He’s going to be fine.

Jeongguk’s going to be fine.

The doctor also states that he needs rest and the sufficient time to recover. Jeongguk watches how Sunhye takes heed to the advice and begins to walk out of the room but he shakes his head, yelling ‘stop’ as loud as he can manage.

Sunhye does stop. She turns around slowly, raising a brow.

“What?” She says, addressing Jeongguk for the first time.

Sunhye’s voice is still the same. Velvet smooth with a hint of high-pitched tone, the same voice that used to soothe Jeongguk during the nights they spent under his bed, trying to shelter from their father’s abuse.

(Mood: Avicii - Hey Brother)

“Stay. Please.” He pleads.

Yoongi seems to realise that the siblings need time because he slips out of the room without a word, closing the door behind him as he goes.

Sunhye seems hesitant from where she stands, fiddling with the hem of her shirt and looking anywhere in the room but at Jeongguk. Even now, at seventeen, she holds the same habits as she did when she was thirteen. Not much has changed about her and it makes Jeongguk’s lungs expand.

“C’mere. Please,” Jeongguk requests, gesturing to the seat besides him with the wrist that’s not broken. “I haven’t seen you in so long, Sun. I thought you were dead.”

It takes a moment for Sunhye to listen to his request, making her way down to the bed. She walks with purpose, keeping her eye gaze diverted downwards like she’s afraid of making direct contact with Jeongguk. When she reaches the bed, she pauses and then ever so slowly, reaches out for Jeongguk’s hand.

The hand is wrapped up in a thin layer of bandage, a cannula stuck inside of his vein. Sunhye wraps him up in her own two hands, settling down on the seat carefully as she stares intently.

“I thought you were dead.”

“I’m not.”

“You nearly were.” Sunhye’s voice is steel cold as she speaks like she’s trying to keep a clear boundary but the slightest hand squeeze indicates the opposite. “Fuck, Guk—I really thought you were dead this whole time. Why did you fucking leave me like that?”

It’s the question that he’s been dreading to answer but he can’t keep evading it. He can’t keep hiding from the truth, from what he had done to his own sister. He keeps his eyes closed as he tries to navigate through his thoughts, sort them through before he begins to speak.

“I don’t know.” It’s the honest answer and he’s not going to lie to Sunhye. “I… he killed our mother.”

“I know.”

“I panicked. I thought I was next. He had just raped me that night and mother’s body… I just, it was a mess,” Jeongguk begins to ramble as he tries to sound coherent. “I left. I packed my bags and I left and—”

“Hey, hey.” Sunhye cuts him off, shaking his head. “Look, I get it, okay?”

“No.” His voice hurts and he can barely let out an audible sound. “No, you don’t, Sunhye! I didn’t mean to leave you behind and I thought he killed you too, I lived with that guilt for all these years and now you’re here, and—”

“Look,” Sunhye’s cutting him off again and this time, there’s finality in her tone. She’s a lot like Jeongguk: stubborn, dominant and holds her own up. “There’s a lot of time to talk. There’s a lot I need to tell you about and I’m sure it’s the same for you but.. I’m not angry, okay?”

“You’re not?”

Jeongguk’s eyes widen from the appeasement that spreads within him, going lax on the sheets.

“No, of course not.”

“Why not?”

“Because, like I said…” Sunhye’s careful when she speaks next like she’s trying to select each word wisely. “I get it. If I was in your position and I could run, I would.”

“What did you do, then?” Jeongguk asks.

He wants to understand how Sunhye stands before him today, now. He wants to know how she survived and still manages to look as courageous as she does, strength shining out within her.

Sunhye falters and her smile fades, bitterness taking over her features.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Of course, Sunny.”

Sunhye shuts her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath before she begins to speak. Her voice is detached, not associating herself to what she explains to him.

“I stayed with our father for a year. He carried on his abusive ways, his sexual assault... he did it all.” Sunhye whispers as sits back on the chair, still keeping their hands conjoined together. She squeezes his hand tight enough to border on painful but Jeongguk can’t find it within him to complain. “He died.”

Jeongguk blinks in surprise.

“He’s dead?”

“Y-yeah. He committed suicide after I threatened to tell the police about him. I found his body, hanging in the bedroom.”

“Sunny…” his voice breaks, tears welling in his eyes.

Sunhye shakes her head, not allowing the sympathetic tone directed towards her and not addressing it. She continues, her tone monotonous.

“I was homeless, I guess. This huge house was all for myself, all my family had died and I couldn’t even pay the rent. I was fourteen, Guk. I slept on the streets until Jaesun found me.”

“Jaesun?”

Sunhye looks down at Jeongguk and nods in confirmation.

The last name he had expected to hear in this story is Jaesun. The mere mention of him makes Jeongguk’s blood boil, invades every feeling in his body.

“Yeah… He was my boss. I know you know him, because of Jimin.”

This time, Jeongguk really is taken aback. The entire story has been making him reel from start to finish, from the news that his father has passed to the news that Sunhye knows Jimin?

“You know Jimin?”

Sunhye nods as she fiddles with the cannula in Jeongguk’s hand, trying not to jostle the needle inside of him but trying to find something to hold onto as she speaks.

“He worked with Jaesun. He helped me escape, came and got me and told me Jaesun won’t touch me or him anymore. Or you, in that case.”

Jeongguk’s crying before he even realises it. It’s unlike him to be reduced down to tears so easily, whenever the going gets tough. But this entire ordeal has been draining him of his energy, hitting him with more news with each passing second.

“Jimin saved you?”

“Yeah. He saved me, and himself. Yoongi helped, too.”

He has to take a moment.

Jeongguk’s not sure he can even form words with the way he starts to sob, burying his head into the pillow. Sunhye doesn’t force him to speak nor stop, just holding him and allowing him the time that he needs to bring himself out of his rut.

The doctor's filter into the room after ten minutes, eyeing Jeongguk warily.

“He’s just emotional. He’s fine.” Sunhye reassures.

The doctor doesn’t ask questions as he sets up Jeongguk’s morphine drip, allowing him to adjust the dial according to how much pain he’s feeling.

It feels like bliss and Jeongguk throws his head back, the first signs of discomfort evaporating from his body.

Once he’s composed himself, the two siblings begin to keep a conversation going between them effortlessly.

Jeongguk doesn’t think he could ever get tired of listening to Sunhye talk. It takes her a while to open up entirely but she begins to let him into her life, explicitly stating details of her time with Jaesun. She talks about how Jaesun had treated like her a rare diamond in the beginning but as time progressed, she was nothing but a kidnapped, trapped sex slave suffering from Stockholm syndrome.

The entire story makes his fury grow. It’s not fair that all Sunhye has ever experienced in her life is suffering, men who’ve taken advantage of her and keep taking from her body.

She sits before him and even as she explains her story, there’s a smile growing across her face.

“Why’re you smiling?” Jeongguk croaks out.

“Because… I found you. Thanks to Jimin.”

The mention of his name makes Jeongguk’s chest constrict tightly and he has to roll his head away, facing the window as he takes a deep breath.

When Sunhye runs out of words and Yoongi enters the hospital room, she excuses herself for the rest room and allows Yoongi to have his moment.

Yoongi doesn’t speak at first. He keeps his eyes fixed around the hospital room, analysing each part of the bare space before his eyes wander over the machines that Jeongguk’s hooked up to. He walks to the charts on the wall, reading his vitals before he looks down at Jeongguk finally.

“How’re you feeling?”

The question makes Jeongguk snort.

“Feeling like I got stabbed.”

He sighs and fondly rolls his eyes, gently sitting down on the seat and waiting a beat before he speaks.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

Jeongguk furiously shakes his head as soon as the words come out of the older man’s mouth, not accepting them.

“You weren’t able to.”

“But I should’ve done something.”

“Hyung, there’s always something we wish we could’ve done but you were helpless and fuck, I’m not going to let you blame yourself for this. Fuck that.”

There’s a hint of a smile on Yoongi’s face as he hums but he doesn’t respond, it’s clear that the thoughts are still dwelling within him even if he doesn’t choose to voice them out loud.

“How’s Taehyung doing?” Jeongguk asks.

Yoongi’s eyes darken Just the slightest, sighing.

“He hasn’t stopped crying since. I sent him home to get some rest.”

Jeongguk heart sinks at the thought, his frown appearing onto his face. He doesn’t like the thought of Taehyung suffering on his own. He’s not surprised that’s the way Taehyung had reacted, all because of Jeongguk’s condition and he wishes he could see him right now to satisfy the man.

“He’s okay though, right?”

“He’ll be fine. I’m taking care of him.” Yoongi reassures.

Jeongguk nods and smiles when he remembers two of the most important people in his life are dating, they’re together and they have each other to fall back onto. Yoongi deserves that, so does Taehyung and they go well together. It makes Jeongguk’s heart warm as he sighs contentedly.

There’s just one person missing.

“D-did… um.” Jeongguk fiddles with the tube that’s pumping into him. “Did Jimin not… didn’t he ask, or?”

Yoongi blinks at him in surprise.

“Ask?”

“Doesn’t he know about what happened?” He corrects himself. “I mean… he said he wanted me to stay away but…”

“Jeongguk. Jimin’s standing outside. He’s waiting for when he can come in. I had to ask if that’s okay with you.”

Relief bursts into Jeongguk and he relaxes into the sheets. He had been so afraid that Jimin wouldn’t bother to visit him, that it truly was the end of their newly formed relationship. But Yoongi confirms that he’s here and his heart grows in size, another set of tears welling in his eyes.

“Of course it’s okay. I want to see him, please.”

Yoongi offers a small smile and he nods, getting up from where he had just sat down. He seems to struggle for a second before he leans in, kissing Jeongguk’s forehead tenderly.

“I’m so glad you’re alive.” He whispers before he leaves the room.

Jeongguk takes a deep breath and he waits patiently, albeit also anxiously, for Jimin’s appearance. He’s not sure where they stand anymore, he had never been sure but right now, it’s even more confusing to him and he doesn’t want this to go downhill anymore. He doesn’t want to lose Jimin.

Jimin wanders in a few minutes later.

He looks pitiful, trying to make himself look smaller as he walks into the hospital room. His eyes are bloodshot, his nose red from presumably crying so much. He has an arm around his body, attempting to hold himself up.

“You’re here.” Jeongguk breathes out, a part of him in disbelief.

That seems to be Jimin’s cue. He reaches the edge of the bed, right next to Jeongguk’s side. He stares intently for a minute before he sinks to his knees on the floor, grasping Jeongguk’s hand and burying his head into Jeongguk’s side as he cries.

Jeongguk’s rendered speechless at first. His body still feels paralysed and he can’t move much but he attempts to, angling his body towards Jimin.

“Babe.” He tries and then forces himself to stop, correcting himself. “Jimin, get off the floor.”

Jimin does oblige once he’s sniffled and kissed Jeongguk’s hand, resuming to stand. He grabs the chair off the wall and drags it over, sitting himself down. He doesn’t dare look at Jeongguk, eyes trained downwards.

“Look at me, Jimin.”

He shakes his head. “I feel so bad.”

“For what?”

“For what I said.”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue, eyes wandering over Jimin’s lowered head, his messy blonde hair sprawled out. He has the urge to reach out and run his hand through it and he manages to shakily, his hands still entwined with tubes that makes the task at hand a little difficult.

Jimin helps him along the way and looks up, piercing him with brown orbs.

“That’s it…” Jeongguk coos once their eyes meet. “Why’re you crying?”

“Are you kidding me? You nearly died!”

“I didn’t, though. I was in a coma for two days and here I am, awake and alert.”

Jimin shakes his head in disbelief, a sound mixed of a scoff and a laugh escapes him.

“I can’t believe you. Even when you’re on a hospital bed, you’re trying to downplay your injuries.”

“Okay. Fine, I’m hurting a lot.” Jeongguk shrugs as he gestures down to his body, and then to his morphine drip. “But I’m on painkillers and honestly? I’m… more happy right now.”

“Happy?”

Jeongguk nods as he runs his hand through Jimin’s hair again so they can keep looking at each other when he speaks.

“You brought Sunhye to me.”

At the mention of his sister, the sides of Jimin’s lips twitch into a smile. It’s barely there and it wavers but it’s, regardless, a smile.

“She worked in the club. I noticed her and I talked to her until I figured out she was your sister and then, yeah. I brought her here,” Jimin tells him.

Jeongguk hums. He had heard the entire story from Sunhye who had explained each detail, explaining how she had started to see Jimin everywhere all of a sudden.

“I know. I appreciate it, Jimin. I never imagined I’d reunite with her and you made it happen. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Jimin shakes his head, refusing to accept the words. He turns away, focusing on the wall.

“I can’t believe I treated you like that, Jeongguk. I… I really got mad at you when your intentions were nothing but good.”

“So?” Jeongguk tilts his head to the side, observing the side of Jimin’s head better. “Good intentions or bad, someone can make a mistake and I did. I made it worse, didn’t I? I… Ican tell.”

Just by looking at Jimin, it’s clear that the boy has been overworked and stretched out thinly. Even though they’ve only been apart for a few days at most, Jimin already seems to show signs of stress and weight loss. It pings to Jeongguk’s chest that he’s the reason and the cause for it all.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“I talked to Jaesun.” Jimin stops and then laughs, eyes watering as he lifts his knuckles. They’re bloody and raw, clear signs of being overused. “Or well, beat him up as well? Told him he can’t control me anymore, that I’m not his anymore. I don’t think we have to worry about Jaesun anymore.”

An overwhelming feeling of pride fills Jeongguk to the core of his being, his entire body floating with the sensation. He reaches over to grasp Jimin, to observe the knuckles carefully.

“Holy fucking shit.” He breathes out. “You fought him?”

“I didn’t have to. He remained still and allowed me to punch him easily.”

“So… so, you’re done with working at the club?”

Jimin has a faint smile on his lips and a flush on his cheeks as he nods, not letting go of their touch.

“I’m done, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk throws his head back. He’s been worried for weeks, months on end. He’s been concerning himself with Jimin for so long, he had forgotten what it feels like not to have Jimin’s health constantly on his mind twenty four-seven.

Jimin watched him admirably, his eyes crinkling when Jeongguk turns to face him.

They hold fierce eye contact for a second, the look between them saying more words than Jeongguk ever could. Just looking at Jimin, knowing that the man is here with him—it elates him. He’s not sure where they’ll go from here but as long as Jimin keeps staring at him like that, he’s not sure he cares.

Jimin leans in right at that moment, crowding Jeongguk’s space.

Jeongguk attempts to accommodate him but the boy shakes his head, holding him still as he slithers to soak in Jeongguk’s body warmth. He crouches down until his ears linger over Jeongguk’s ears and he whispers.

“I’m sorry. I love you, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk freezes up.

His entire body goes still and his eyes widen upon the confession. He doesn’t think anyone has said those words to him, not like Jimin means it with his sincere, soothingly voice that’s barely audible as he whispers right into him.

Jimin loves Jeongguk.

He turns his head to face Jimin as his own eyes begin to water up. He’s not sure he can begin to count how many times he’s cried today but this time, he doesn’t even try to stop himself.

“What?” He mouths, unable to bring words to his mouth.

“I said, I love you Jeongguk. I love you and I’m sorry for what I said in a moment of anger. I know we have a lot to talk about and work through but fucking hell, I love you. Do you know how scared I was? I thought I was going to lose you without ever saying these words.”

Jeongguk shakes his head adamantly.

“Not dying.”

“Never.” Jimin returns the gesture, laughing mutely.

Jeongguk’s still befuddled from the confession, allowing the words to process slowly inside of him. It feels like a dream. It feels like he’s floating and he’ll never be able to get down. Usually, Jeongguk’s life has consisted of nothing but misery. All he’s ever known is destruction, pain and violence. He hasn’t been granted with good luck. He’s never recieved anyone in his life that has been as sweet, as patient and as loving as Jimin.

It’s hard to believe someone as pure as Jimin loves him.

He moves across on the bed, making space for Jimin. He’s not ready to return those words but he accepts them, he wants to bask in the love he feels between them in the room.

“C’mere.” Jeongguk pats the bed. “Please, lay with me.”

Jimin has stars in his eyes as he nods, obliging without a second's hesitation.

“Of course, baby. I’m right here.”

Chapter Text

“Open up!”

Jeongguk scowls at Taehyung who sits on his hospital bed, leaning right into his space with a spoonful of granola and yoghurt. He turns his face away stubbornly, focusing on Sunhye who takes a backseat and watches the interaction with amusement tingling in her eyes.

“Just eat it, oppa.”

Taehyung sits before him with an expectant facial expression, pouting at him.

Just for that face, Jeongguk sighs under his breath and obliges. He leans in and takes the spoonful into his mouth, forcing himself to chew and swallow the foreign texture down his throat. He hasn’t had much of an appetite recently, despite the fact that he’s been in a coma. It’s been two days in the hospital since he woke up and each day, Taehyung’s has had to feed him like a toddler.

“See. Was that so hard?” Taehyung chastises.

Sunhye sniggers behind him, covering her mouth as she does so.

“He’d prefer if Jimin oppa did it.”

“Watch your mouth,” he warns Sunhye playfully before obliging and taking the next bite without having to be directed to do so.

“They’ll be back soon.” Taehyung reassures.

As Jeongguk takes the time to recover, Yoongi and Jimin have become partners in crime together. They go around trying to figure out what’s going on since everything has gone down. Jan has gone missing, assumingly, and everyone’s on edge as to what it means.

As much as he admires his two favourite people running around the city, acting like badasses—he misses Jimin’s constant presence around his room.

“I know.”

Jeongguk hasn’t been doing much except lazing around in his bed, rendered useless. He has no control over his own limbs, feeling like jelly every time he tries to walk. The doctor assures he’s just recovering and within time, less than a week’s time, his functions will resume back to normal and he’ll have full control over his body.

Taehyung hasn’t left his bedside, neither has Sunhye.

They’re not allowed to stay after hours but it’s reassuring to have both of them with him from the time visiting hours start till finish, it’s also reassuring to know Sunhye goes home with Taehyung every single time and that she’s safe with them.

“One more bite?” Taehyung offers.

Jeongguk sighs but he doesn’t make it difficult for the older man, closing the gap between them and taking the last bit of the bittersweet yoghurt.

“Thank you,” Jeongguk says sincerely.

Taehyung shrugs. He closes the lid of the yoghurt, standing up from the bed and discarding of the food. Instead of wandering back into his space, he walks over to Sunhye and sits down besides her.

It’s obvious how much of a liking Sunhye’s taken on Taehyung.

She seems to be completely comfortable around him, not shying away and able to fully speak her mind. She’s headstrong and that much had been clear to Jeongguk upon first sights since their reunion but she proves herself to be full to the rim with strength. Jeongguk had escaped whilst Sunhye had been stuck in spiralling, neverending prison all these years of her life and yet, she manages to sit amongst a new circle of people with a bright, accommodating smile.

Every time Jeongguk sets his eyes on Sunhye, he sees their mother.

Their mother, the loving and giving woman who had a life of misery. The woman who had been raped repeatedly and had Jeongguk but never treated him any less. The woman who nearly died giving birth to Sunhye but treasured her two children.

Sunhye has many of the same habits of their mother. Whilst his mother is a distant, fuzzy memory now—Sunhye keeps her legacy alive.

Sunhye leans into Taehyung’s side immediately without hesitation, sucking on the straw of the apple juice she drinks from.

“Tell me Sunhye,” Taehyung smiles down at her fondly, radiating absolute jubilation. “What’s your plans now? What do you plan to do now that you have your entire life ahead of you?”

Sunhye ducks her head down abashedly, her straight brown hair falling before her eyes and obscuring her view.

“I’m not sure. I mean, I’ve got time to figure it out, right?”

Jeongguk cuts in. “Of course, Sunny. You don’t have to figure anything out right now.”

He doesn’t expect her to, either.

Sunhye is a victim to physical and endless sexual abuse, she has scars that may be somewhat permanent. Whilst she may sit before them and she’s a survivor, there’s parts of her that need to be healed with time and patience. Jeongguk wants to be there for her through every step of the way, he wants to guide his sister since he lost out on the chance to do so before.

Taehyung nods. “Yeah. I was just wondering whether you had any direction, at all?”

She shrugs a little.

“I mean… I dropped out of school when I was thirteen but maybe, I’d like to go back? Perhaps, in the future?”

Jeongguk’s heart swells with pride and he has to hide his face in the pillow, biting back a grin that threatens to expose him. Taehyung, on the other hand, looks at Sunhye with the utmost respect.

“Of course.” His voice is awed, eyes starry. “Of course, Sunhye.”

They converse back and forth for a while before Yoongi and Jimin make an appearance, seemingly deep in conversation as they wander through the doors and into the room. Yoongi is leaning right into Jimin’s space, whispering into his ear and Jimin seems to be soaking in the information being delivered to him, nodding earnestly.

They look up once they enter and Jimin’s eyes immediately filter to Jeongguk, offering a special smile that seems to be reserved just for him.

Jeongguk beckons him over with a finger, from the wrist that isn’t broken.

Jimin doesn’t waste a second to abandon Yoongi’s side, crossing the room and closer to Jeongguk.

Jeongguk tugs him down by the collar with all the force in his body— admittedly, he’s lacking in durability right now—and presses their lips together. Jimin sighs contentedly, shuffling downwards to make the kiss more comfortable. It’s innocent and short and when Jimin pulls away, he has a dazzling smile spread across his lips.

“Hello, there.”

Jeongguk can’t help but return the gesture, eyes crinkling as he does.

“Hey, you.”

“You doing okay?” Jimin pulls away but doesn’t stop touching him, reaching out to intertwine their fingers together as he scans through the vital charts placed on top of Jeongguk’s bed. “Your last blood pressure test seems good, you’re making progress, babe.”

“I told you, I’m fine.”

Jimin rolls his eyes and offers a squeeze to their conjoined fingers, pulling the chair closer and sitting down right by his side. Whenever he comes back after hanging out with Yoongi, he devotedly sits by Jeongguk. They don’t even have to speak, sometimes. They’re complacent to sit besides each other and bask in each other’s presence.

“We have news for you.” He whispers as he raises their hands, kissing the back of Jeongguk right next to the cannula.

It’s maddening to Jeongguk that he doesn’t mind the physical contact. He welcomes it. Previously, he would’ve found it uncomfortable. He wouldn’t of been okay with someone touching him unless it was purely for the purpose of sex. But with Jimin, he wants more. He craves more.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough.

“Oh, yeah?” Jeongguk raises a brow, eyes following to where Yoongi’s sitting in Taehyung’s lap. He inwardly groans before whistles to catch the older man’s attention. “Tell me updates, you whipped man.”

Yoongi’s eyes flash to him and narrow, getting up.

“Don’t make me hit you.”

“You would never. I’m in hospital right now.”

Taehyung barks out a laugh, turning to hide his face in Sunhye as he does so to muffle the sounds. Yoongi shakes his head and decides against saying anything, walking over to the bed. He sits down on the other side of Jeongguk and smiles at him sweetly.

“The underground circle has gone missing.”

Jeongguk narrows his eyes, focusing on Yoongi but still keeping his fingers intertwined with his boy, absentmindedly attempting to keep touching Jimin in any form he can.

“Missing?” He repeats, confused.

“Yeah… I guess, they got spooked when you went into hospital in case you’d snitch them. Also, I think it’s also down to Jimin’s influence, threatening the police probably enforced them to think you’ll speak, too.”

Jimin flushes but pride takes over his features, looking victorious as he winks down at Jeongguk. Jeongguk wants to laugh but a burst of fondness for Jimin takes over him, raising their hands and kissing Jimin’s knuckles that are still cracked.

“So, what now?”

Yoongi shrugs, getting comfortable into the bed.

“I don’t really know. Jimin and I have been looking high and low for information, we’ve asked Seokjin and he has no idea either. They’ve literally just disappeared.”

“I was never going to snitch.”

“I know you wouldn’t.” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “But they don’t know that.”

Jeongguk lets the words soak into him. He knows, realistically, that this isn’t the end. Somehow, in some way, the events may come back to bite them in the back. Jeongguk’s not even supposed to be alive, they may return to finish their job. But Jimin’s done a number on them, successfully pushed them hard enough to believe they could collectively get them sent down.

“Well… fuck,” Jeongguk mumbles.

Jimin coos as he edges closer to the bed.

“We’re safe now, Guk.”

“Are we?” He questions. “Entirely?”

Jimin frowns at the words and chooses not to reply, allowing the heavy words to dwell between them. Taehyung gets up from where he sits and walks over to the bed, shaking his head.

“Jeongguk, we may never be entirely safe.” Taehyung speaks with utmost finality in his tone, eyes burning into him. “We may have to look over our shoulders all our lives, we may need to watch every step we take but you’re alive, Jimin’s free and they’ve disappeared for the mean time. Right now, that’s all that matters. We’ve conquered so much, y’know we’ll defeat anything else that comes our way.”

Yoongi hums in agreement and it looks like he wants to reach out and touch his boyfriend but he resists. He just sits and watches him carefully.

Jeongguk’s eye line follows to where his sister sits, facing him and watching him with soft eyes.

“What about Sunhye, though?”

“She’s safe too.” Yoongi promises. “We’ve got her and I know we’ll all take care of her. She’s family, we’re all family.” As he says that, his eyes filter up to Jimin to include him.

Jimin seems to notice because his cheeks burn a little, burying his head into Jeongguk.

Jeongguk’s spare hand comes to cradle the back of Jimin’s head, drawing him impossibly closer.

He’s content. He has the people he cares the most about right by his side, he’s been reunited with the only family member left and she wants to be a part of his life. He has Jimin, the man he loves. Everything’s going to fall into place, for once.

For once.

Jeongguk squeezes his eyes shut, relishing the feeling. This tastes like victory.

After a while, Taehyung and Sunhye escape to go to the coffee shop down the street. They spend so long within the walls of the hospital, lingering around the dullness that they need a break. Jimin decides to take a nap, spreading out his limbs on the uncomfortable chair and cushioning his head with a jacket of Jeongguk’s he seems to have picked up at some time.

Yoongi’s the only one awake, fiddling with his phone.

“Hyung, maybe you should go home?” Jeongguk suggests, yawning behind his fists. Visiting hours are nearly finished and he knows Jimin will stay until then. “I’ve got Jimin, I’m fine.”

“I needed to talk to you about something, actually.”

Jeongguk attempts to shuffle upwards on the bed, trying to sit in an upright position. He fixes the pillows behind him, looking at Yoongi expectedly.

Yoongi sits besides him and withdraws his phone once again, flickering through a few apps before he logs into a bank account. They wait anxiously until Yoongi turns the phone and passes it over to him.

Jeongguk furrows his brows, out of loop with what’s going on. He takes the phone off and observes a bank account Yoongi’s seemingly opened, eight digit numbers in Korean won displaying back at him.

“Um… you’re rich? Congratulations?” Jeongguk says, baffled.

Yoongi lets out an abrupt laugh, shaking his head.

“That’s yours.”

There’s a beat between them and Jeongguk raises a brow, even more perplexed now.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, that’s yours. I’ve been saving up for you for two years now.”

“Saving up? For me?” He asks, shaking his head as he looks down at the numbers again. “Why?”

“I knew one day, realistically, this day would come—when you’d have to give up underground fighting. So… I’ve been saving up so you can go professional.”

Jeongguk blinks at Yoongi a few times, wondering if this is a drugged haze he’s having since he’s been pumped with numerous different medication endlessly throughout the last two days. But Yoongi’s still looking at him with sincerity and it makes Jeongguk’s throat constrict painfully, swallowing down the lump.

“Professional?”

“Yeah. A professional boxer, real training sessions with experts, in a ring, on national TV. Professional.”

It feels like a dream to Jeongguk. It doesn’t seem to process to him for a second, waiting for Yoongi to throw him the punchline but it doesn’t come. His face remains smooth and intact, not a hint of joke behind his eyes.

“You… you did that for me?” He mumbles, voice overwhelmed with emotions.

Yoongi shrugs like it’s no big deal, grabbing his phone back and logging out of the online banking system.

“Yeah. Of course. You want to keep fighting, don’t you?”

“I do, yeah.”

“So, here it is. Your chance to keep fighting, even with the underground circle gone missing. You still have this.”

“Hyung..” His voice wavers as he feels oddly close to tears, the dam about to burst. “I… I don’t know how I’d ever repay you.”

Yoongi chides him, shaking his head.

“I’m not asking for repayments.”

“No, hyung, no—”

“I’m serious. This is for you, for being like a younger brother to me. It’s a gift from me to you.”

This time, Jeongguk actually does cry. He can’t help it and he doesn’t try to hold it back. He feels immense gratitude swimming through his veins, spreading throughout his body. He may of had a rough upbringing but since the age of fifteen, he’s been sheltered by the man that sits before him and proves time to time again that Jeongguk will never be alone.

“Hyung…” Jeongguk attempts, not sure how to put his emotions into words. “You know I love you, so much? I’d be literally nowhere without you. Thank you. I’ll honour this. I’ll work hard. I’ll never make you regret this.”

Yoongi seems to recognise this and believe him because he merely shrugs, offering a small smile.

“I believe you. You deserve this.”

Jeongguk tries to envision a life as a professional boxer. He won’t try to deny the fact that he’s thought about it when he first started fighting in the underground circle. Eventually over time, he came to terms with the fact that perhaps, it wasn’t in the books for him.

Yet Yoongi sits before him with a savings account with an eight digit amount and a smile that means nothing but a promising, bright future for Jeongguk. This feels like victory.

It’s Jeongguk’s fourth day in the hospital.

To say he’s getting restless is an understatement.

He’s not used to being confined within one room, in one building. He’s used to bouncing around and being full to the brim with energy. Now, he’s bed bound and he’s forced to adapt to a completely foreign situation.

It helps that he has people filtering in and out around him. Seokjin comes and visits, sitting besides him and catching him up on all the details that occur though there’s not many updates. Jan’s gone off the radar, Jaesun’s in hiding but it’s possible he’ll only relocate his club elsewhere.

Sunhye officially moves in with them in their apartment, Taehyung helping her move her things. Granted, she doesn’t have much with her. Her entire life can be packed into one backpack and she brings it along with her to the hospital before she makes the move, informing Jeongguk with a blissful expression.

It makes Jeongguk’s heart constrict and he can distinctly remember his own younger self, when he had packed his belongings into one bag and had fled his home.

Whilst Jeongguk’s has started his life already, Sunhye is only beginning hers and he’s gratified that he gets to be a part of it now.

He groggily wakes up early in the morning, having slept in longer than usual. The medication Jeongguk’s on makes him hazy, the painkillers loosening him up and making him float in another dimension altogether. He rubs his eyes as he comes around, blinking awake to notice Jimin sitting at the end of the bed.

He has an easel and a canvas placed on top, painting blissfully with headphones in his ears.

Jeongguk smiles a little bemusedly, shifting on the bed to stare at Jimin better. The man hasn’t noticed that he’s awake so he takes the liberty to scan over the boy he loves, just wanting to observe him in his element. Jimin looks completely relaxed, head bouncing along to the beat of his music as he hums and paints along in time.

He tilts his head to the side and admires Jimin.

It takes Jimin a few moments to realise, eyes filtering up and brightening.

“You’re awake!”

“It’s eight am. How’d you get in?” Jeongguk mumbles. “Visiting hours start in an hour.”

“The nurses like me and they let me through, since I was waiting outside.”

“Shit. How long have you been here?”

Jimin shrugs and decides against answering, simply murmuring under his breath as he paints for another second before lowering the brush and staring up to him.

“How’re you feeling? Need more painkillers?”

“No, no. Let’s not make me an addict.” Jeongguk laughs. “Come here, show me what you’re painting.”

Jimin flushes a little at the request but obliges without a complaint, getting up from the chair he’s sitting on. He gingerly grabs the canvas, walking around to Jeongguk and showing him.

It’s a painting of Jeongguk and Sunhye. They’re in the hospital, Sunhye is holding his hand and they’re both laughing at each other. Jeongguk looks mellowed out in the composition, head thrown back and eyes crinkled in ecstasy.

It pictures, perfectly, their growing bond and the adoration he holds for his sister.

Jeongguk’s nearly about to run his hands through the painting but Jimin reaches forward, swatting it out of the way.

“It’s wet, don’t.”

He sighs, wanting to feel the texture. Jimin’s creative with his art and whilst his style of drawing doesn’t variate, he tends to mix up his supplies. Sometimes, it’s water colours which feels seamless to the paper and sometimes, he blotches down with acrylics which feels rough.

Jeongguk’s has begun to slowly learn the specific terminology and appreciate art for what it is. He can appreciate Jimin’s art immensely now that he mildly understands the thought process behind it.

“Sorry.” He mumbles. “It’s pretty, though. It’s fucking beautiful. Thank you.”

Jimin shrugs as he lowers the canvas onto the floor, shifting to get comfortable onto the bed.

“I was painting because I feel nervous.”

“Nervous?” Jeongguk frowns as he leans forward to brush Jimin’s fringe out of his face. “For what?”

“My exam results. They come in soon and it determines whether or not I graduate. It’s just nerve wracking, I guess.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You thrive off panting.”

He laughs breathily at the compliments and shoots Jeongguk an appreciative grin. Though there seems to be a part of him that doesn’t fully agree, he still seems to acknowledge the words.

“Thanks, I guess.”

Jeongguk hums as he leans in a little, attempting to find a spot to rest his head in Jimin’s chest. They remain in that position for a while as Jeongguk listens to Jimin’s heavy breathing, counting the beats in his head.

“Y’know about me going professional?” He wonders out loud after a moment.

Jimin waits for a second before he nods.

“I heard, yeah. Taehyung was happy-crying about it earlier.”

That makes Jeongguk laugh, clicking his tongue. It’s truly dismal how his best friend reduces down to tears at the slightest things.

“What doesn’t he cry about, honestly?” Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “What do you think about it?”

“You really want to know?”

Jeongguk raises his head, furrowing his brows in confusion at the question. He values Jimin’s point of views, by now, as much as he values Yoongi’s.

“Yeah, of course.”

“I think… it’s better,” Jimin says after a while, thoughtfully. He seems lost in concentration. “I used to worry a lot about you, y’know? When you used to go for fights in the beginning.”

“You did? Why?”

“Well, I guess a lot of it has to do with the fact that I wasn’t used to the whole world you were living? I didn’t know how good you truly were at boxing. I only saw how dangerous it was and well, once when I came to see you fight… you got seriously hurt.”

“That was a one-off.”

Jimin raises a brow. “You sure?” He gestures to Jeongguk mischievously, who currently lays in hospital, bandaged up and healing.

Jeongguk let's out a loud laugh, looking scandalised as he reaches over to swat Jimin playfully. His wrist has been healing well enough. It still pangs whenever he jostles it too hard and the cast around it has become itchy, a nuisance. He’s not accustomed to receiving professional medical care when it comes to broken bones and the process has begun to irritate him.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, and like this.”

Jimin shakes his head and puts a hand over Jeongguk’s mouth to cut off the words before they can even escape him properly.

“Stop. Stop apologising for everything, please.”

Jimin edges closer to him on the bed and they attempt to cuddle up on the uncomfortable, small mattress. It shouldn’t feel as invigorating as it does, enlightening Jeongguk to feel close to Jimin. They conversate back and forth, Jimin supplying information about Hoseok and Namjoon and how they’re dealing with the news of what happened.

“They’re so happy for me.” Jimin grins as he speaks, his features illuminating. “They’ve been there for me since the start and they’ve watched me struggle with Jaesun so now that it’s over, they’re over the moon.”

“They’re lucky to have you.”

Jimin blushes, the redness creeping on the nape of his neck.

“No, I’m the lucky one.”

“I’m the lucky one.” Jeongguk concludes.

Jimin turns to face him, the smile on his lips growing inch-by-inch at the words. He leans into Jeongguk’s space, closing the gap between them as he presses their lips together. It’s a chaste kiss, barely deepening beyond a peck and as much as Jeongguk enjoys their small touches, he’s beginning to form a thirst for Jimin he can’t get out of his head. He always wants more.

Jimin drives him crazy.

“I’ll be here, okay?” Jimin whispers against his lips when he pulls away. “Through all of the recovery, through everything—you got me.”

A part of Jeongguk had already known this fact, it doesn’t shock his system in the slightest but it’s still satisfying to hear them. He closes his eyes and allows the words to process within him. When he reopens and stares intently into Jimin, he merely nods.

“I know. You got me, too. You know you do.”

(Mood: Shawn Mendes - There’s Nothing Holdin’ Me Back)

Another week passes in the hospital before Jeongguk’s finally given the green signal and he’s discharged.

He feels immensely grateful when he signs the discharge papers, almost shoving it right back in the doctor’s face, eager to get out of the four walls he’s been confined to.

Jimin and Yoongi arrive to pick him up and take him home. Jeongguk’s still weakened and hasn’t regained complete control back over his limbs, still struggles to walk without support. Jimin wheels him out on a chair, devotedly pushing him from behind. Jeongguk groans at the attention, hiding his head in his arms.

Jimin, on the other hand, seems elated with the fact that he gets to take care of Jeongguk.

He speeds up the movement as he runs down the hallways with the wheelchair, pushing Jeongguk along fast.

“Slow down!” Jeongguk complains.

Jimin gasps in faux horror but he obliges almost immediately, bringing them to a steady halt in the middle of the hallway as they wait for Yoongi to catch up.

“Since when did you get so boring?”

“I’m not boring!” He swats Jimin’s arm from where he sits. “I just don’t want to hurt yourself, or anything.”

“I won’t hurt myself, silly!” He laughs but his eyes crinkle as he does so, seeming to be honoured that Jeongguk’s thinking about his wellbeing.

Yoongi approaches them with an unimpressed smile but his eyes speak another story, glistening as he guides them out of the hospital. He helps Jeongguk into the back seat of the car, leaning over his body to carefully buckle him up like he’s handling a toddler.

Yoongi’s unusually attentive towards Jeongguk nowadays. He showers him with attention, never shying away from displaying his obvious concern. It’s clear as day that Yoongi’s still shaken up by what has happened and what he had to witness.

Jeongguk wants to tell Yoongi that the storm is over, that there’s nothing to be worried over anymore.

Sure, they’re not completely out of the woods yet but the future seems bright even to Jeongguk. For the time being, they’re safe. They’re alive. They’re surviving and that’s all that matters. He wants to tell Yoongi to stop fussing over him, to not treat him like fragile, damaged goods but he allows the older man to have his moment.

Jimin climbs into the backseat alongside him, offering him a dazzling smile before reaching over to intertwine their fingers together and placing their hands on his lap.

It’s the little touches—the spontaneous ones—that seems to make Jeongguk’s heart race. The little touches are a sign of closeness on another level, one that he’s never experienced before in his life. The sentiment behind the small acts go a long way for him, they hold more meaning for him.

It feels right to hold hands with Jimin. It feels right to glance over to him and have the liberation to allow his eyes to roam freely over Jimin’s breathtaking face. He’ll never get tired of the sight.

The drive back to Jeongguk’s apartment doesn’t take long and they wait for Yoongi to get out, helping Jeongguk out again. He’s persistent on being the man to guide him up the stairs and Jimin doesn’t complain, allowing Yoongi to take the upperhand. It makes Jeongguk’s stomach flutter, though, that Jimin remains close behind him and keeps a steadying hand on Jeongguk’s back in reassurance.

Admittedly, it’s difficult to climb two stories of stairs in his current state.

Whilst Jeongguk’s recovering swimmingly from his stab wound, it still radiates random spots of pain throughout his body. At times, the pain renders him completely useless. He finds himself spacing out from the overwhelming sensation.

His headache, on the other hand, remains present throughout the day. It starts off intense when he wakes up but by taking strenuous painkillers, the pain manages to subside as the day progresses.

Slowly, but surely, Jeongguk’s beginning to take the steps towards recovery.

When they enter the apartment, the sight before him makes his heart warm.

Sunhye and Taehyung are cooking in the kitchen together, fiddling around with the stove settings as Seokjin stands before them and watches with amusement tingling in his features. Seokjin’s loitering around the room, singing at the top of his lungs which makes Jeongguk cringe.

Upon his arrival, the three of them stop their motions. There’s a beat of silence before Taehyung starts to cheer, clapping as he walks over to Jeongguk.

He gently eases Jeongguk into an embrace, snuggling into him.

“Welcome home, sweetie!”

Even if Jeongguk tries to keep the fondness off his expression, he’d fail. Inevitably. Taehyung has been more adorable than his usual self, accommodating and readily showering Jeongguk with affection.

“What are you preparing?” He asks, instead.

“Just fried chicken.” Taehyung withdraws himself and edges for Yoongi next, a smile growing over his lips as he leans over and pecks Yoongi’s lips. “You good, baby?”

Yoongi seems to relax under his touch, nodding. “I’m good.”

Taehyung takes Yoongi’s hand into his and guides the older man back to the kitchen, grabbing a piece of the chicken that’s already prepared. Using chopsticks, he guides the food into Yoongi’s mouth for his verdict. Yoongi grumbles under his breath but he chews thoughtfully, nodding.

“It’s good.”

Taehyung beams with the approval.

“Sunhye helped me, a lot. She’s a natural at cooking.”

At the mention of herself, Sunhye flushes a little. It seems like she’s still not used to having attention on herself, hiding her face for a moment before she resurfaces.

“I’m sure it’ll be perfect, then.” Jeongguk says, keeping his eyes fixed on his sister for a moment to ensure she’s okay.

Seokjin begins to move, impatient to start eating as he grabs a plateful of the chicken and seating himself down the couch. He pats the spare space besides him for Jeongguk, eyes crinkling.

Jimin moves closer to Jeongguk, helping him to ease down on the couch.

“Thank you,” he whispers to Jimin.

Jimin only shrugs it off with a gesture of the hand in the air like it’s no big deal.

One by one, they fill up their plates and they gather around the living room as they nibble on the fried chicken. They turn a movie on for background noise but it seems like they’re more interested in each other. They drift in and out of conversation amongst each other.

Seokjin seems to take the chance to bond with Sunhye further, leaning right into her space and conversing with her back and forth. Sunhye, remarkably—once again—seems completely at ease. She doesn’t hesitate as she speaks about herself openly and Seojin doesn’t mind sharing intimate details about his own life back.

Yoongi and Taehyung seem to abandon their meal halfway through as they opt to start making out instead, kissing each other softly.

Jeongguk groans out loud, grabbing his paper cup and throwing it in their direction to break them apart. Neither of them move away, Taehyung only throws the middle finger up at him and pulls Yoongi further down on him.

When he looks away and his eyes fall on Jimin who sits on the floor, cross legged and looking up to him with a delighted expression, eyes hazy with fondness—Jeongguk feels his chest expand in size.

This feels like victory.

Not long after, Taehyung and Yoongi excuse themselves to go into the bedroom as they slam the door shut behind them. Seokjin opts to go home, as well, claiming he has to go work soon.

Jimin grabs everyone’s plates and wanders into the kitchen, beginning to wash up and clear up.

Jeongguk watches him admiringly from where he sits, fiddling with the cast on his wrist that itches. He wishes he could tear it off. He needs to be more patient with himself and his recovery time but each minute that passes, he only begins to feel more irked and it feels like ants are crawling under his skin.

Sunhye sits besides him on the couch but she seems to be a quieter version of herself right now, lost in her own thoughts as she absentmindedly fiddles with the loose thread of the cushion in her lap. Her eyes are narrowed in concentration, seeming to be hundred miles away.

Jeongguk’s unsure whether or not he can ask.

He doesn’t want to push right from the start and come off as an overbearing brother. He’s finding it hard to maintain the right balance. After all the years apart, he has no right to waltz into her life and take over the role as the overprotective brother and he knows Sunhye would not appreciate that, either. He had abandoned her, left her alone to fend for herself at the age of thirteen. They have a lot to work through and he’s not sure where to start.

“Hey…” Jeongguk calls out to her tentatively before he can change her mind. “Are you okay?”

Sunhye turns to face him with a hesitant look painting over her, shrugging helplessly.

“I’m good. I’m sorry. This is all new to me.”

“New?”

“Yeah… I’ve… I haven’t had a sense of belonging for a while.”

Her words are frank and upfront. Sunhye never beats around the bush and adapts the quality of being brutally honest. It’s something Jeongguk can appreciate about his sister. He knows he’ll never have to second guess around her, he’ll always know exactly where her headspace is at.

“I understand. Are you finding it hard to adjust amongst us?”

“Not really?” Sunhye laughs at herself, her brows knitting together in further turbulence. “I mean, don’t get me wrong—this is strange but I’m not hating it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Of course. Taehyung oppa makes it feel easy, to be honest and you…” Sunhye’s words trail off for a second. “I don’t know. I guess, I had forgotten what it’s like to be around your company and I’m just relearning it all so it’s taking me time to get used to the idea that: shit, you’re here again. You’re my brother and you’re in my life again.”

Jeongguk finds himself relating to her words, resonating deep within him. He had never, not even once, forgotten about Sunhye. He remembered her every single day and even when the desperation began to fade, there was still a deep longing that he couldn’t cover up. Overtime, even Jeongguk had began to forget the little things about Sunhye.

He’s beginning to relearn everything, too.

“Is there anything I can do, to make you feel more comfortable?”

Sunhye doesn’t answer immediately. She glances around the room, watching Jimin intently before glancing back at him.

“I want to visit dad’s grave.”

Jeongguk furrows his brows at the odd request, taking a moment to scan her expression. He tries to read into her but her expression is stoic, not revealing anything. The request hangs heavy in the air between them. He doesn’t understand what the appeal could possibly be.

“Why…?”

It’s abundantly clear that Jimin’s listening in the conversation, his actions slowing down from where he’s washing the glasses.

“I need closure, Jeongguk.” Sunhye sighs, her lips tugging downwards. “I know it doesn’t make any sense, I’m supposed to be over it by now but I need… I need something, y’know? I can’t live without seeing his grave at least once.”

Jeongguk stares at her in disbelief. He knows he should say something but he can’t bring the right words to his mouth, blinking at her lethargically. Before he can make a mess of the situation, Jimin crosses over to them. He shoots a reassuring smile to Jeongguk before he takes control over the situation, kneeling before Sunhye.

“It makes sense.” Jimin immediately says. “If I had a chance to get closure from my father, I would, too. It makes all the sense.”

Relief spreads into Sunhye’s features, her wrinkle lines smoothing out.

“R-Really?”

“Yeah, totally. We need closure to get over something, especially something traumatic. There’s nothing wrong in wanting to visit his grave and if you want to, you should totally do it.”

Sunhye hums as she contemplates the words, shrugging helplessly. She turns to look warily at Jeongguk as if she’s silently seeking his approval.

Jeongguk sighs. He’s unable to deny her a single thing. Though he personally doesn’t understand how it’s supposed to help, he doesn’t want to decline her offer. The only thing she’s ever asked of him.

Jimin seems convinced, too, that this is a good idea.

Jeongguk trusts JImin.

“We’ll go.” He mumbles in promise to Sunhye.

(Mood: BTS - Epilogue: Young Forever)

Jeongguk’s never been to a cemetery before.

As he wanders through the desolate grounds, stepping on crisp autumn leaves and watching them falter underneath his feet—he wonders whether or not his mother was ever buried. He hardly allows his mind to drift in that direction, not wanting to torture himself with the questions that he’ll never get answers to. But he wishes, prays, that his mother’s body was put to rest under the ground even if it’s wishful thinking.

Sunhye’s eyes flutter shut every few seconds, head thrown back as she allows the coldness in the air envelop her. She’s wrapped up in one of Jeongguk’s jackets, too big for her frame but she zips it right up to her chin and she strides forward confidently.

Jimin walks right by Jeongguk’s side, his presence a sense of comfort for Jeongguk as they walk in time.

Jeongguk never had intentions to come to face with his father again—dead or alive. He never imagined he’d be standing in a graveyard, looking down at a plot of ground where his body is buried ten feet under.

It should thrill him.

But as Jeongguk stares at the headstone that contains no writing whatsoever besides the man’s name and his year of birth and date—he feels nothing. There’s a void of emotions within him. He feels empty, a hole in his chest as he stares intently at his father’s name.

Sunhye stands motionlessly, a few steps ahead of him.

Her brows are furrowed as she stares at the stone carefully, her eyes scanning over every letter imprinted.

“You okay, Sunhye?” Jimin asks carefully.

Sunhye doesn’t divert her eyes, doesn’t face them when she replies distantly.

“I don’t know.”

Jimin seems unsatisfied with the answer but he doesn’t push it, merely nodding and glancing off into the distance across the miles of land.

Jeongguk wonders whether or not Jimin is curious. There’s a lot he doesn’t know about, there’s an entire gap in his knowledge about Jeongguk’s life. Regardless, he stands here as a figure of encouragement and support. He doesn’t know but still, he’s here offering all he can.

He may have been able to successfully conceal this part of his life deep inside of him, refusing to address it—but he knows Jimin deserves to know.

Jimin loves him even through the worse of times, through the good and bad. He has been patient and he’s allowed Jeongguk the chance to transform into a better person all by himself.

Jeongguk waits a minute before he blindly reaches out for Jimin’s hand, intertwining their fingers.

“I’ll explain everything to you.”

Jimin turns to him, shaking his head slightly.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.”

“No, no. Jimin, trust me—I want to.”

Though Jimin still seems hesitant, light begins to filter into some of his features and when he smiles, Jeongguk can’t help but notice how strikingly beautiful he is.

“I’d love to hear, then.”

They stand before the grave for a while longer.

Abruptly, when no one’s expecting it, Sunhye takes a step further forward and she viciously spits down on the grave.

Neither Jeongguk nor Jimin expected the sudden movement because Jimin’s hand tightens in his in surprise.

Sunhye continues to release her frustrations, though. She moves in so she can stomp her foot down forcefully on the mud, letting out a guttural groan from the back of her throat that’s raw and riddled with agony.

It’s not long until she starts to cry.

Her body shakes with the sob that erupts from her, her groans turning to loud screaming. She turns to the stone and spits on it, anger rolling off her body and radiating through the entire cemetery.

Jeongguk gawks in astonishment, momentarily speechless as to what’s going on. Before he can react, Jimin’s stepping up to the task.

He quietly shuffles forward as to not startle Sunhye and gently ease her back into his chest, offering a back hug. Sunhye seems to struggle for a moment, still screeching on the top of her lungs and no doubt, attracting attention towards them. But Jimin’s even-tempered and he placates her, holding her close and rocking her body back and forth.

It takes her a while to come down from her outburst, her chest still heaving heavily.

“You’re okay…” Jimin’s cooing. “You’re here with us. You’re safe now. You’re with your brother. You’re okay.” He’s repeating the words over and over on a loop, his voice barely audible but it seems to be working like magic on Sunhye because eventually, her body stills and she goes lax.

When the intensity of the moment is over and Sunhye detangles herself from Jimin’s body, muttering an apology under her breath—Jeongguk decides it’s his turn.

He walks over to his father’s grave and spits upon it.

“Fuck you, dad.” He hisses at the hard, cold cement ground.

That part of his life is over. When he turns to face Jimin again, Jimin’s beaming at him.

It’s time to move on.

(Mood: ZAYN ft Sia - Dusk Till Dawn)

On the drive back from the cemetery, Sunhye falls asleep in the backseat of the car.

Jeongguk attempts to devote his time equally between glancing in the rear mirror to check up on Sunhye, ensuring she’s okay and to Jimin, who’s driving and isn’t accustomed to doing so.

Jimin seems to be driving effortlessly, though. He navigates easily through the streets, barely needing any directions. He’s a natural at everything he decides to pick up on and Jeongguk can’t help but add it to the list of the things he’ll endlessly admire about Jimin.

“Is she okay?” Jimin questions when they reach a red light, reaching over to lower the volume of the radio.

Jeongguk spares one last look at Sunhye. He twists his torso around his seat, craning his neck back to observe her properly. Sunhye’s still out like a light, snoring lightly as she curls into the car seat.

“She’s asleep.”

“Okay. Good.” Jimin breathes out.

Jeongguk hums, waiting for a second before speaking up.

“She’s suffered so much. How will she ever recover?” He asks, his voice trembling as he does so.

Jimin looks over to him with pity spreading through his sincere, doey eyes. With the spare hand, he reaches over to grasp Jeongguk’s and place their conjoined hands over the console.

“It’ll take time, Guk. It won’t happen overnight and she might even need to get therapy but we’re here for her. You’re here for her. She has people now.”

Jeongguk sighs and he nods, taking heed to the words and accepting them. He trusts Jimin’s judgement and if the boy insists that eventually, Sunhye will be okay—then he takes his words for it.

“I want to tell you about my father.”

Jimin turns to him with a serious look taking over him, frowning.

“Babe, you really don’t have to. I don’t want you to feel obliged to do so.”

“I’m not doing it out of obligation.” He promises. “I’m doing it because for once, I actually do want to talk about this and I trust you enough to open up to you.”

Jimin takes a moment before he responds, flattery lacing into his feature as a smile grows instinctively. He faces straight ahead as he drives and when he comes to a stop, he turns to face Jeongguk.

“I’d love to hear.”

They drop Sunhye back at the apartment. Taehyung comes down to collect herself, easing her sleepy body out of the car. He keeps a strong arm around her waist as he gently guides her back into the building. The two of them watch her figure disappear and once they’re safely inside, Jeongguk turns to Jimin.

“D’you remember the night when I had a fight and I came to pick you up, when we went up on that bridge?” Jeongguk questions.

Jimin nods instantly. “How can I ever forget?”

“Do you know the directions to get there?”

Jimin seems a little puzzled by the question, tilting his head to the side to analyse Jeongguk’s intentions.

“I think so. You can give me guide there. Why?”

“Let’s go there. I want to talk on that bridge.”

If Jimin seems surprised by the request, he doesn’t let it show on his face. He only nods, pulling away from Jeongguk’s proximity to focus on driving. He puts the car into gear and begins to accelerate. Jeongguk navigates him through the roads, telling him when to take the appropriate turns.

It’s a little while drive and the two of them feel completely at ease in the car together.

Jimin has a small smile sprawled across his lips, the sides tugging upwards with each passing second. He seems to be in his element and even as he focuses on the road, his head keeps bopping along in time to the music playing on the radio. Jeongguk rolls the window down, sticking his head out and allowing the wind to blow in his face.

When they arrive on the bridge, Jimin cuts off the engine and turns to face him. Jeongguk’s ready.

It’s been a long time coming for him to open up, allow the darkest secrets out of his system that keeps him a prisoner. No one is more deserving than Jimin to understand the intimate, deepest parts of him. He realises, now, all he has to do is accept his past and come to terms with what he suffered with by sharing his story, easing the burden off his shoulders and take the step towards healing.

If he can’t attempt to heal himself, how will he ever help Sunhye help herself?

Jimin climbs out of the car and walks around, opening it up for Jeongguk. They hold hands as they walk up to the bridge, to the spot they had previously sat at.

Jimin sits down first and spreads his legs, allowing Jeongguk to take sanctuary within him. Jeongguk feels a coy smile taking over him as he settles down on Jimin’s lap, burying his head in the boy’s chest and exhaling deeply.

The sky is beginning to darken upon them. It’s a light blue colour, the settlement between sunset and complete nighttime. The air is chillier now as Jeongguk tries to bundle himself up in his denim jacket, trying to withdraw as much warmth as possible. Jimin seems to notice because one strong arm wraps around Jeongguk’s waist, shuffling him closer so they radiate each other’s body heat.

At first, neither of them speak. They sit in complete tranquility, listening to the sound of the wind whooshing and the water sloshing below the bridge. In the distance, they can hear the dull sound of cars horning, the bustle of the city life.

Jeongguk closes his eyes, finding his body going completely lax with the security blanket he’s surrounded by.

Jimin doesn’t force him to speak. He barely moves as he mumbles a tune under his breath, some sort of lullaby, as he runs a hand through Jeongguk’s hair.

“You’ve never asked me about my past,” Jeongguk finally says, breaking the silence between them that stretches on for a moment too long.

Even as he speaks, he keeps his head obscured within Jimin. The older man doesn’t force him to look up and make eye contact, not halting his actions of moving soothingly through his strands of hair. He only tugs lightly at the roots at the statement, shrugging.

“It’s not my story to ask for.”

“But you’ve never been curious?”

Jimin waits before he answers, shrugging again.

“I’m curious as a person can be. The closer I got to you, the more I wanted to understand you as a person and I know your past is a part of that but moreso, who you are now doesn’t have to correlate to your past, at all.”

Jeongguk croons under his breath. He allows Jimin’s words to sink into him, trying to understand them. Jimin’s telling him, indirectly, that it doesn’t matter what happened in his past because right now, who he is, is what Jimin wants to know.

“Can I tell you about it?” Jeongguk whispers, his lips pressing against Jimin’s exposed skin, just above his collarbones.

Jimin laughs, his arms tightening as hints of fondness shine through him.

“Of course, baby. I’m all ears.”

Jeongguk gathers his thoughts together, gauging where he can start with the story. A lot of his memory has become fuzzy as he’s tried to force himself to forget somewhere down the line. He bites his lips, keeping his proximity with Jimin impossibly closer. Jimin doesn’t push him. He waits patiently, resting his head on Jeongguk’s shoulder and staring out into the city.

“My father…” Jeongguk begins, his heart race climbing dramatically just at the prospects of talking about this. He’s never explicitly stated details like this, never sat down and had a heart-to-heart conversation about it. “He was an abusive man.”

Those words, alone, are an understatement.

Yet Jimin hears him out and he lets out a sound under his breath, inhaling as he tugs Jeongguk closer to his body.

“He was… um, unsatisfied with his life, I guess?” He continues when Jimin gives him the time to adjust, making him feel comfortable. “He was abusive to my mother before she even had me, y’know? A vicious, unhappy man. I truly believe he was a psychopath because he had no signs of remorse, whatsoever. He would rape my mother repeatedly and that’s when I came about… a rape baby.”

That doesn’t seem to please Jimin because he holds his breath, his lips moving over Jeongguk’s neck as he starts to pepper his neck with sweet, lingering kisses. They soothe Jeongguk down as he takes a deep exhale, continuing.

“He didn’t start his abuse on me until Sunhye was born, two years later. At first, it was mostly mentally because I was so young, y’know? But… I think I was five when I first got hit. My memory gets foggy in the beginning. I was seven when I tried to defend my mother for the first time. He had a broken shard of glass and he was about to cut her and I ran, tugged on his leg to make him stop and obviously, it turned back on me.”

“Baby…” Jimin breathes out, kissing his jawline. “Fuck.”

“It just escalated from there. It was physical and it was all the time. Sometimes, for no reason whatsoever. He quit his job at some point and he was home all the time, giving him more time to just… hit us whenever he wanted. The older I got, I became the perfect target and I happily endured it for my mother. If she was safe, it was fine.” He pauses, licking his lips as he feels an overwhelming sorrow taking over him at the next words he wants to say, having to take a moment. Jimin just rubs his back, fingers tracing patterns on his spine over his jacket. “Eventually… it turned to sexual abuse.”

Jimin’s body tenses up when the words are said, hanging heavy between them. Jeongguk doesn’t turn to calculate his expression, knowing his words will only falter upon seeing his face.

“Do you want to stop?” Jimin whispers when neither of them speak for a minute.

“N-no, if that’s okay? I’ve never talked about this. I just need a moment.”

“Whatever you need,” he promises, pressing another kiss on the side of his neck before withdrawing just the slightest, giving him the space Jeongguk needs.

Jeongguk collects himself as his mind wracks dangerously fast upon all the memory that resurface. He’s bottled it up for so long and now, he’s dealing with them all at once with the associated feelings.

“It turned to sexual abuse when I was twelve,” Jeongguk finally finds himself able to say. “I don’t really want to go into details, if that’s okay? He just… eventually, my mother became too tired and he wanted someone fresh, I guess? So he turned to me and Sunhye but I tried to stop him from doing that to Sunhye so inevitably, it came down on me harder?”

“Mmm…” Jimin hums under his breath, nuzzling into Jeongguk.

“It’s… it’s hard to remember properly. I don’t know much except my life was the same tedious repeat. I’d come home from school, I’d hide out in my bedroom with Sunhye for as long as I could to protect her but eventually, he’d come in, he’d take his pick. I’d always try to offer myself first and sometimes, he’d take me into his bedroom and sometimes, he’d want Sunhye and if I tried to stop her, it was my life on the line. One day, though…”

When his voice trails off, his voice breaks a little.

Jimin notices immediately because he’s tugging on Jeongguk’s hair, forcing their eyes together as he looks all over to ensure Jeongguk is, in fact, okay. Jeongguk’s eyes water but he doesn’t allow it to spill over the edge, swallowing hard.

“One day…?” Jimin prompts.

“One day, I guess my mother had enough. He had come home drunk out of his mind, slamming the cupboards, causing a scene and my mum… she really, she really had enough. Eomma started fighting back. I was watching from the staircase and I felt compelled to do something but I couldn’t, I felt frozen from where I was watching. I wish I could’ve done something, shit—”

“Hey, hey..” Jimin’s cooing immediately, pulling him closer and pecking his cheeks. “Babe, deep breaths.”

Jeongguk obliges to the request, taking a moment to focus on inhaling for five seconds and exhaling for five seconds. He waits until his heartbeat resumes down to a normal level before he continues.

This exact, precise moment is a day he’ll never forget. The remembrance has been branded into him, still vivid like it happened yesterday. He still remembers exactly how he had felt at the given time, too. The overwhelming fear that had resided inside of him, the helplessness and the need to protect that he couldn’t owe up to.

“He killed her.”

It seems like Jimin’s not expecting it either because his eyes widen where he’s pressing his face up against his neck, letting out a string of curses lowly.

“He killed my mother.” Jeongguk voices slips into monotone as he says it, stating the facts. “He grabbed her by the hair, hit her over the head with the vase until she fell lifeless to the ground.”

“Guk…”

“I watched her die and I lost it. I started to scream and I ran downstairs to her body, holding her as I cried. She was gone and I knew it but I couldn’t stop yelling for her, shaking her body, hoping she’d come back to life. He got annoyed with my reaction so he grabbed me, took me to the bedroom where he continued to rape me for a while.”

There’s a long pause. Jeongguk takes a second to make sure he doesn’t burst into tears, wanting to keep a composure over himself. Jimin doesn’t push. He remains devotedly patient, like always, and he keeps the physical affection going as he kisses every inch of Jeongguk’s skin he can reach.

“I decided to leave that night.” Jeongguk concludes. “I thought I was gonna die next. It was a selfish act, I didn’t think it through, I didn’t think about Sunhye. I packed my bags, I said goodbye to her whilst she was asleep and I left.”

“Where did you go?”

“Nowhere in particular. I was fifteen, I had no money. I slept on the streets and begged during the day. I used to walk for miles and miles, trying to find a destination but I’d get nowhere. Eventually, I came across the underground fighting place and I wandered in. I met Yoongi there and well… things just went from there.”

Jeongguk pauses and decides that’s enough. He’s talked enough about himself. He’s given Jimin the deep, intimate details about himself and he’s not sure he wants to share anymore. Everything that he wants to say has been said, enveloping around them in the moment as Jimin alters to the news he’s been bombarded with.

“I’m sorry, Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk turns to face him properly for the first time since they’ve been sitting on the bridge, furrowing his brows questioningly towards him.

“Sorry for what?”

“For… everything?” He says like it’s the obvious. “For what you had to go through. That’s so fucked up.”

Jeongguk shakes his head. He doesn’t want to hear an apology, he doesn’t want to hear the obvious sympathy in Jimin’s tone. He doesn’t want to be treated any less, he doesn’t want to not be held accountable for his ruthless actions just because of his childhood that treated him unkindly.

“Listen to me, Jimin.” Jeongguk whispers.

Jimin looks up to him, nodding. “I’m listening.”

Jeongguk stares into his eyes for a second. He observes Jimin’s wide eyes, his dark pupils that shine with the utmost affection just for him. Jimin’s here for him, listening to each word that he says and he’s giving the time and the space that Jeongguk needs. Without realising, he’s providing Jeongguk with exactly what he needs.

That’s just one of the reasons he loves Jimin.

He’s never loved someone before, not romantically. The feeling was foreign to him and he had always indulged in casual sex as a means of coping with his upbringing.

But Jimin has swooped into his life and tilted his world off it’s axis with his meaningful smiles, his lingering touches, his endless devotion and his remarkable patience. Jimin’s been a rock of support and through Jeongguk, he’s given himself the time to grow too. They’ve grown together.

“I love you, Jimin, y’know?”

Jimin maintains eye contact as the three words escape Jeongguk’s mouth and his eyes blow up, blinking a few times.

“You… you love me?”

Jeongguk has to break apart from the staring contest to stifle a giggle behind his fist, shaking his head fondly. Jimin’s looking at him like he’s spoken a different language entirely and it shocks him how Jimin doesn’t know already this fact. He leans in to close the gap between them, burying his head in Jimin and tenderly saying the words again.

“I love you.” He confirms.

Jimin’s whole body shakes when he exhales.

“Say it again.”

“I love you, Jimin.”

“Again.”

Jeongguk can’t help the second laugh that falls from his lips. Somehow, the mood between them has changed within moments. Before, it had felt melancholic but now despite the fact that it’s still sentimental, it’s feels more freeing. Jeongguk feels liberated. He’s finally free and he’s in love.

“I love you, Jimin. You.”

“Fuck,” Jimin’s letting as he buries his fingers in Jeongguk’s hair, looking up to him and pressing their lips together insistently.

It starts off eager but as the minutes pass, the pace slows down and Jeongguk takes his time to swipe his tongue against Jimin and taste him. He moans softly into Jimin’s mouth, shuffling forward so he can properly straddle Jimin’s lap. His legs end up on each side of Jimin, rocking down as they kiss intimately.

When Jimin pulls away, he looks dazed.

“I love you too, Jeongguk.”

They bask in the in the harmonious moment together, snuggled up against each other. They don’t say much but every now and then, Jimin will whisper he loves Jeongguk and Jeongguk doesn’t waste a second to return the words back to him.

Eventually when the coldness becomes close to unbearable, numbing Jeongguk’s fingertips. He leans into Jimin, kissing his neck before he says.

“Shall we head back?” He suggests.

Jimin nods as he sighs, throwing his head back as he observes the night sky for a second. When he looks back down, he looks completely content.

“Yeah, sure. But first, can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

Jimin smiles hesitantly and he uses his spare hand to brush through his blonde hair.

“You see this blonde hair, the colour? It’s not my natural colour.”

Jeongguk knits his brows together, unsure as to where this story is going but more than prepared to listen. He nods as he prompts Jimin to continue.

“Okay…”

“Jaesun made my dye it blonde because it made me more desirable, or some shit. I attracted more people if I had blonde hair.”

“Jimin..” Jeongguk’s voice trails off as he shakes his head insistently. “That’s not true, y’know? I bet you’d look good with any colour.”

He rolls his eyes yearningly at Jeongguk.

“Well, I want to dye it.”

“Yeah?” He smiles. “What colour?”

“Pink… I already bought the dye. Do you want to go back to my apartment and do that with me, please?”

Jeongguk finds a smile creeping over his lips and he can’t think of a single way he’d rather spend the rest of his night. He nuzzles into Jimin, kissing presses down his throat and over his Adam’s apple before he withdraws himself off Jimin’s lap. He offers a hand as they begin to descend down the bridge.

“Of course. I’d love to.”

(Mood: Fleetwood Mac - Never Going Back Again)

Jimin sits on the floor, his back turned to Jeongguk as the younger man sits on the bed above him. He rubs the pink dye into his hair, carefully massage his scalp as he does so and Jimin can’t help the short moans that leave his lips at the sensation.

“That feels good, huh?” Jeongguk coos at him like a toddler, keeping both his hands working over his hair in a soothingly slow motion, reaching every strand and washing out the blonde colour.

Jimin feels like he’s redeeming himself, knowing the colour will be removed. Blonde hair has been a burden to him and whilst he can admire how stunning he looks with the light colour, it’s for all the wrong reasons. Jaesun is a chapter of his life that, temporarily and hopefully permanently, has ended and he wants to remove every trace of him and the strip club from his life.

“So good.”

Jeongguk murmurs under his breath sentimental words about how good Jimin’s going to look, how pink will suit him really well. Jimin can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut, anticipating the moment.

“All done.” Jeongguk claps his gloved hands together once the dye has been applied, settling back on the bed. “Now we wait.”

Jimin shudders as he slowly turns around, facing the boy better.

“Do you think pink hair will suit me?”

“Hell yes.” Jeongguk doesn’t waste a second to approve of, nodding insistently. “I think you’d look good with any hair colour but pink? You’ll look beautiful.”

Jimin feels a flush creeping on his cheeks as he reaches over, swatting the younger man playfully though he takes heed to the words. He always readily accepts any compliments Jeongguk has for him, they ignite him. Jeongguk seems sincere about his words, he doesn’t retract them and says them as honestly as possible.

After twenty minutes of waiting, Jeongguk takes them into Jimin’s bathroom.

“Tilt your head over.” Jeongguk instructs.

Jimin stands by the shower door, following the commands as Jeongguk starts up the water and allows it to warm up before he begins to wash through Jimin’s hair. Once again, his fingers feel like magic that works through Jimin’s scalp, removing every last drop of the dye and then applying colour conditioner to ensure his hair doesn’t dry out.

“Jimin…” he sounds stunned when he speaks, voice awed. “You don’t understand how pretty this looks.”

“Yeah?”

Jeongguk hums in affirmation as he stands back, grabbing a towel and handing it over to him. Jimin straightens his back out, eyes meeting the younger man’s and offering him a small smile as he towels himself off. He’s a little anxious to meet his new appearance having become to accustomed to his blonde and continuously dying it whenever it had began to fade.

“Yeah.” Jeongguk holds his forearm gently, steering him to the mirror. “Look at yourself.”

Jimin slowly, hesitatingly, removes the towel from his head and lets it drop to the floor.

He looks at his appearance carefully, eyes darting over his reflection. It’s a little strange, admittedly. The pink has barely, but surely, come through—light and fading to even lighter towards the ends of his strands. It’s a soft look, a sharp contrast to his last hair colour but Jimin admires it. He likes it.

When he follows to gauge Jeongguk’s reaction, it’s clear the boy feels the same way.

“No more Jaesun,” Jeongguk’s whispering as he steps forward and hugs him from behind. He wraps his arms around Jimin, burying his head into him. “No more blonde hair. No more anyone even trying to control you, fuck no. This is all you, Jimin.”

Jimin swallows around the lump in his throat, nodding.

“No more.”

When they enter back to the bedroom, it escalates fast.

Jimin dries off his hair and blow dries it accordingly, allowing the strands to curl a little and Jeongguk idolises from behind where he lazes on the bed. He waits until Jimin has finished until he gets off the bed, walking up to him.

Jeongguk runs a hand through the pink hair, feeling over the soft strands and then tightening his fingers and tugging his head harshly to the side.

Jimin gasps before he can prevent himself, eyes shutting instinctively as Jeongguk begins to mouth at his neck. He takes his time in an affection manner, kissing over the junction of his neck and licking over his Adam’s apple every time he swallows. Eventually, it progresses to biting and leaving small hickeys over Jimin’s neck.

“Baby…” Jimin moans.

“Tell me you love me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to oblige to the request, not sure he’ll ever get tired of repeating the words to Jeongguk.

“I love you.”

At that, Jeongguk starts kissing his neck with more intent. The motion has an edge of desperation and Jimin’s growing eager with each passing second. He turns around and presses their lips together, opening his mouth so their tongues can meet. Jeongguk growls into his mouth, grinding his hips down upon Jimin.

“I love you, Jimin.” He pulls away to say the words, barely audible between them. “I love you.”

(Mood: Lana Del Rey - National Anthem)

“Show me.”

Jeongguk takes that as a challenge and he immediately begins to pull Jimin back to the bed, laying him out and climbing on top to straddle his hips. He begins to unbutton Jimin’s checkered shirt, removing it off him as his fingers linger over his skin as he does so.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” Jeongguk mumbles as he leans in, pressing kisses to every inch of skin he exposes as the clothes come off Jimin’s body. “Like, seriously?”

Jimin giggles as he tilts his head backwards, trying to hide in the mattress.

“A few times.”

“Well, you are. You’re beautiful. You do things to me, Jimin.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

Jimin’s hand reach out to drag Jeongguk’s black shirt over his head, discarding it to one side of the room. He marvels when he’s met with the younger man’s toned stomach, eyes scanning over his abs. He works so hard to look like this and Jimin wants to appreciate it. His eyes wander down to the part of his stomach that’s still bandaged, cushioned carefully to protect the stab wound.

Jimin’s heart aches a little, his tight lungs squeezing as he leans in to kiss over the white taping.

Jeongguk’s breath hitches as he lazily grinds his hips down, throwing his head back from the friction over his clothed crotch.

“Like…” he attempts to bring the words to his mouth, faltering just for a second. “Like, you make my heart beat fast sometimes when you smile at me with that smile.”

“What smile?” Jimin laughs as he pulls back, looking up to him.

“This smile… it’s really cute. It seems to be reserved just for me.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t be surprised. You have me whipped, Guk.”

Jeongguk snickers at his words, eyes crinkling as he does so. His hands wander downwards, fiddling over Jimin’s jeans buttons and attempting to take them off. Jimin helps him the way, lifting his hips up so they can slide off him. At the same time, Jeongguk does the courtesy of shimmying out of his own.

“What do you want, Jimin?” Jeongguk asks as he runs a hand through the pink hair, seemingly taking the time to appreciate the colour.

Jimin shuts his eyes for a second, enjoying the movement of his fingers carding through his hair.

“I want to ride you.”

Jeongguk gulps audibly, eyes darkening with a hint of lust just the slightest as his fingers tighten in his hair and tugs to where he wants.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jimin affirms.

Jeongguk closes the gap between them and starts to kiss Jimin again, swiping their tongues against as they messily taste each other. It’s sloppy and their teeth clash together in eagerness but Jimin adjusts easily, rolling his hips upwards with each time they pull back only to resume kissing once again.

Jeongguk reaches over to the bedside table, pulling out the lube and condom.

“I’m going to get tested soon.” Jimin promises when he catches the sight of the latex. “I mean, it’s been nearly four months so I’m due for one but… but I want to fuck without a condom soon.”

It seems to arouse Jeongguk because his actions only become more hungry, slicking up two of his fingers with a generous amount of lube. He flips them over so Jimin’s on top. He settles easily on Jeongguk’s lap, staring down at his boy.

“We can do that.” Jeongguk vows.

Jeongguk circles a finger around Jimin’s rim, teasing him and not applying any pressure. It seems to please him because he smirks, looking up to Jimin expectedly with an eyebrow raise. Jimin groans, embracing Jeongguk and whispering in his ear.

“Please, Jeongguk. Please open me up.”

They kiss lazily, unable to keep their hands off each other as Jeongguk opens him up with two digits. He takes his time to properly stretch Jimin out, reaching deep inside and curling upwards to massage his prostate.

The touch to his bundle of nerves makes Jimin gasp in surprise, jumping up a little and kissing back with more purpose.

Jeongguk gently eases three fingers inside of him and keeps scissoring him until he’s met with less resistance before beginning. He withdraws them and using the hand not covered in lube, runs a hand through Jimin’s pink hair and pulls his head back.

“Ride me, Jimin.”

He leaves the task up to Jimin, allowing him to take it at the pace he assumes is best.

Jimin shivers at the tone Jeongguk holds, smiling down at him before sitting up straight. His hand grasps for Jeongguk’s mostly hard cock, stroking him before grabbing the lube bottle to allow the ease slide.

Jimin raises his thighs and gently lowers himself down on Jeongguk once he’s rolled the condom on.

The position, this way, reaches deeper inside of Jimin right from the first stretch. He lets out a loud gasp, his spare hand clutching down on Jeongguk as the younger man intertwines their fingers and gives Jimin time to adjust.

Jimin sinks down slowly, taking him inch-by-inch until he bottoms out and clenches around him experimentally.

“That’s it…” Jeongguk’s murmuring, the words barely audible. His hand wander over Jimin’s thigh, the one not wrapped up in Jimin’s, as he offers a squeeze and nods, encouraging him to move. “Look so heavenly, taking my cock so well.”

“Guk,” he warns under his breath, his cock twitching with interest as precome squirts out of him.

“Use my cock to get yourself off, Jimin. Go on.”

Jimin’s already worked up and he lifts himself up, slamming the cock deeper inside of him with each movement. He’s careful not to jostle Jeongguk too hard who’s seemingly still recovering from his injuries. Jeongguk doesn’t mind, though. His hand reaches out for Jimin’s cock as he starts to stroke him in time to the thrusts.

It doesn’t take long for Jimin to come over his stomach, pushed over the edge by Jeongguk’s cock nestled right up to his prostate and the insistent teasing over his own erection. He comes with a loud cry of Jeongguk’s name.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Jimin says insistently as he comes down from his climax.

Jeongguk groans, pinning Jimin’s hips to discourage any movements before he lifts his hips and starts fucking him back earnestly. Each rough thrust makes Jimin groan out loud, feeling overstimulated after his own orgasm and Jeongguk barely lasts. He withdraws quickly, ripping the condom off himself before he jerks off on Jimin’s stomach, coming minutes later.

When Jimin’s stomach is cleared up and he shifts to cuddle into Jeongguk’s side, he whispers.

“I love you.” To him.

Jeongguk turns to face him, looking dazed out from their orgasms.

“I love you, too.”

They end up taking an hour nap together.

Jimin wakes up first, his body aching from the lack of sleep that seems to be catching up to him now. He’s been in a sleep deprived state for a while but slowly, surely, with Jeongguk’s body curled up next to his—he’s resuming back to a healthy number of hours per night.

His shifting around makes Jeongguk awaken from his slumber, grumbling under his breath.

It makes Jimin’s chest expand upon seeing Jeongguk, sleepy and whispering nonsensical words under his breath. It’s moments like this that Jimin wants to treasure: when Jeongguk’s most vulnerable, not holding up a hard exterior.

“Sorry,” he mumbles apologetically, pecking Jeongguk’s cheeks. “Go back to sleep.”

“No, no.” Jeongguk shakes his head stubbornly. He rolls back to glance at the digital alarm clock. “It’s nearly time for dinner. Shall we cook together?”

Jimin’s heart flutters in his chest and he finds himself agreeing without having to give it a second thought.

“Sure.”

They wander out of the bedroom together, emerging into the living room hand-in-hand. Jimin’s surprised to find Hoseok and Namjoon sitting on the couch together, as they both eat japchae together, feeding each other.

“Good evening!” Jimin announces his appearance, happiness radiating from his features.

The two of them walk to the couch, sitting down besides Hoseok and Namjoon.

It’s clear Jeongguk’s trying to hide himself behind Jimin, still uncertain about whether or not the roommates despise him. Namjoon looks up from his bowl of food, smiling softly at the two of them. Jeongguk let's go of their hands, concealing his face behind Jimin’s back.

“You okay, honey?” Namjoon questions, picking up some of the noodles and edging forward to feed Jimin with the chopsticks.

Jimin obliges, chewing on the noodles quietly and nodding.

“I’m more than okay. Did you order takeaway?”

“Yeah. We left some for you,” Hoseok answers, not glancing away from where he’s intently watching TV. “Didn’t know you’d bring a guest along with you, though.”

Jeongguk perks up a little at the mention of himself. He shifts up into a sitting position, a hand grazing over Jimin’s shoulder as he does so.

“Hello.” Jeongguk finally greets them.

Hoseok hesitates just for a second before his eyes move away from the screen, towards Jeongguk. He seems to analyse the younger man for a second and it takes a moment before his features smooth out.

“Hello, Jeongguk.” Hoseok replies politely. “There’s some takeaway for you and Jimin in the kitchen, if you’d like.”

The quiet acceptance between Hoseok and Jeongguk makes Jimin’s heart warm, expanding in size. He shoots Hoseok a grateful smile. He knows, now, that he wants to keep Jeongguk in his life for a while and it would’ve been a difficult feat if Hoseok hadn’t negotiated well with coming to terms with the fact Jeongguk’s inevitably going to be hanging around.

Namjoon moves off the couch and grabs the takeaway box with chopsticks off the dining table, handing it over to Jimin.

“By the way, Jimin,” Namjoon says as he hands it over. “The pink looks good on you.”

Jimin can’t help the blush that takes over his face at his roommates acceptance towards his hair, looking away as he opens the takeaway box with nimble fingers and hands a pair of chopsticks to Jeongguk who takes it off him gratefully.

“Thank you, hyung.”

The rest of the evening is spent in complete equanimity. Jimin feeds Jeongguk bites as Jeongguk snuggles further into the side, attempting to engage in conversation with Hoseok and Namjoon. Whilst it starts off relatively awkward with Jeongguk not contributing much, it becomes easier.

Eventually, Hoseok even starts laughing at Jeongguk’s words and Namjoon holds a five-minute long conversation with him about Korean dishes and how to cook.

Jimin finds himself completely, and utterly, content.

(Mood: Phoenix - 1901)

“Say cheese!”

Hoseok holds the camera up, angling it a certain way to capture the best picture of Jimin.

Jimin flushes a little, a natural pinkness to his cheeks that’ll radiate in the pictures as he poses in his graduation gown and gear. Namjoon jumps into the next picture, snapping it with him and then Hoseok takes a wonky selfie of the three of them together.

For his graduation, Jimin’s only allowed to bring two guests alongside with him due to the capacity and there’s no doubt in his mind, he wanted both of his roommates there.

“My little Jimin,” Hoseok’s mumbling sentimentally as he fixes Jimin’s collar, looking overwhelmed with emotions. “Look at you, you finally finished university. You’re graduating.”

Jimin can hardly believe it, himself.

The last exam had drained him of his energy, sleep deprived and lacking his artistic skills. Yet he had received the news he had passed.

He had been wrapped up in Jeongguk’s embrace when he checked his school emails and had woken up the younger man, jumping on top of him to announce the news. Jeongguk had promptly thrown a small get together celebration where Taehyung and Yoongi both had the chance to meet Hoseok and Namjoon, creating the start of a good bond.

Today is the day he walks on the stage and picks up his diploma.

Hoseok and Namjoon take their designated seats in the middle of the venue whereas Jimin sits at front with his classmates. He truthfully didn’t take the time to make many friends but as he sits now, he nods towards each and every one of them to acknowledge the lessons they spent together.

The ceremony is long winded but Jimin listens to every word, claps for every student who walks on stage and shakes hands with the dean of the university.

Eventually, his own name is called.

“Park Jimin.”

The rooms erupts into applause but above that all, he can hear Hoseok and Namjoon’s wild cheering, wolf whistling at the top of their lungs. Jimin’s chest expands with pride for himself, for his roommates as he walks on stage and collects his bachelor’s in Fine Art.

Namjoon is giving him a back hug and navigating uneasily as they walk out of the venue once the ceremony is over, plastered to Jimin’s side and whispering how proud he is endlessly.

Jimin feels afloat with the praise as he gently eases himself out of the hug, patting Namjoon’s shoulders.

“Thank you, hyung. Seriously without you and Hoseok, I couldn’t of ever done this.”

Namjoon softens just the slightest and he takes Jimin’s hands into his, nodding.

“You’re welcome. We’re proud of you.”

They walk back onto the streets, edging for the next venue where Yoongi and Seokjin already are, having chosen the designation of the “proper location” for the “proper celebration.”

But he’s startled by the appearance of Taehyung and Jeongguk standing outside, apparently waiting for him.

Jimin had agreed with them to meet them at the celebration location, bringing along his roommates so they could share a few drinks and mellow out together so he’s relatively surprised to see the two of them standing before him.

Taehyung holds a bouquet of flowers and so does Jeongguk, but his are distinct red and white roses that look absolutely stunning and have a hint of glitter on top of the petals.

“Guys,” Jimin whispers, awed.

Jeongguk lowers the flowers and tilts his head, offering a shy smile.

His spontaneous appearance here means more to Jimin than he cares to admit, letting down his guard as he runs to Jeongguk and jumps into his arm. The younger man seems startled by Jimin’s sudden move but he adapts easily, lowering the flowers and wrapping both his arms around Jimin, holding him up as he begins to twirl Jimin around.

Jimin laughs breathlessly, throwing his head back at the giddiness that overcomes him.

When Jeongguk stops spinning them, he leans up and their lips meet together in a passionate kiss. Taehyung groans besides him.

“Get a room!”

“Stop being so bitter! We watch you and Yoongi hyung do the same!” Jeongguk retorts but regardless, eases Jimin out of his arms and lowering him down. “Congratulations, Jimin.”

Jimin smiles sweetly at Jeongguk, cupping his cheek and pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, baby.”

He turns to Taehyung next, accepting both flowers off the men and thanking him as Taehyung embraces him for a long while and sways their bodies side-to-side. Jimin basks under the attention, gingerly placing a kiss an appreciative kiss to Taehyung’s cheeks before withdrawing.

“Next year for your graduation, we’ll do the same, Taehyung.” Jimin assures, considering Taehyung has opted to complete a Master’s degree.

Taehyung arches a brow playfully.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Taehyung wanders off to Hoseok and Namjoon, offering a one-armed hug and conversing with them, leaving he and Jeongguk alone.

Jeongguk offers out a hand for Jimin to take.

“Can we take a walk? Before we head to the next place? I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Jimin blindly takes the hand and as much as his words make him nervous, he knows the talk isn’t anything bad. He just has to wait.

They walk through the stunning venue the graduation had taken place, surrounded in a flower garden with vines climbing up the walls and dated oak trees, branches expanding across. It’s full of greenery and sets the mood well.

Jeongguk finds a bench and sits down, pulling Jimin down next to him by the hand hold.

“Is everything okay? Is Sunhye okay?” Jimin can’t help the stream of immediate questions that escape him, concerned.

Jeongguk turns to face him and laughs, his cheeks dimpling just the slightest.

“Sunhye is fine, Jimin. That’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Jimin’s heart starts to hammer from anticipation, taking his graduation hat off and running a hand through his pink hair that sticks out in every direction. “Tell me, then. I’m all ears.”

“Well… this is hard for me to say but I need to be quick because Yoongi hyung is already waiting for us.” Jeongguk admits with another low laugh but hints of nerves implore into his tone as he leans into Jimin’s touch. “I’ve never done this before.”

“Guk… you’re scaring me.”

“Okay, okay!” He attempts to pull himself through, still giggling which reassures Jimin that nothing bad is going to happen. “Well… uh, okay. Jimin, I’ve honestly never loved someone before and this is new realms for me. This is new to me. Having someone in my life that I’m completely comfortable around and I feel safe around. It should scare me and maybe, it did at first.”

“It did?”

“Yeah.” Jeongguk shrugs. “When I first realised I was in love, I realised so suddenly, y’know? It hit me so fast and I didn’t know what to do with the feeling.”

“When did you know?” He pries.

“Um… do you remember after your exhibition, when we fucked in the car? And I lifted my head about to say something, well… I was about to confess ‘I think I’m in love with you.’”

Jimin’s heart flutters just by Jeongguk’s utmost honesty, never shying away from telling him exactly how he feels. He coos, edging closer to Jeongguk and kissing his neck tenderly.

“Same. I knew for a while, too.”

Jeongguk offers him a dazzling smile and waits for a moment before continuing.

“Well, whilst this is all new to me, I’ve been talking to Taehyung and he’s been helping me figure out what this is all means and where to go next when this happens and well,” he pauses. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, will you be my boyfriend, Jimin?”

Jimin’s jaw slackens as soon as the question comes out. It’s the last thing he had expected to hear. He knows that their current dynamics is slowly heading in that direction but having Jeongguk out right ask him pleasantly startles him.

Jeongguk notices his expression because he quickly begins to speak, again.

“I know I’m not the best person and I’ll make mistakes. You’ll have to be patient with me. I’m not used to sharing any part of myself with other people but Jimin, you make it feel possible to me. Your presence in my life has helped me to help myself and I know I’ve been able to do the same to you. I want to honour that, I want to honour you and I’d love it for you to be mine.”

Jimin tears up as he listens to the words, resonating with each syllable as he leans in and kisses Jeongguk quickly.

“Yes, Jeongguk. Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

Jeongguk’s apprehension instantly begins to fade as soon as he accepts the offer, slowly replacing with satisfaction.

“Yeah, you will?”

“Hundred percent.”

Jeongguk hums as he drifts Jimin closer to him by a firm finger under Jimin’s chin, kissing him on the lips a few times but never deepening it.

“I love you, Jimin.”

“I love you too.”