Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 The crowd remained silent.

 Shin hye, the witch, the lady, the healer, was gone. To move, to speak now, wouldn’t help her. She was in God’s hands while they were still alive.

 Kim woo bin and his men watched for any reaction with sharp eyes.

But suddenly, from the rear of the crowd, a scream rang out, again and again, shattering, haunting echoes, wave after wave of agony, of despair, of horror.

 The screams were, in fact, so like that first one emitted by the witch, that even Woo bin was seized for a moment by chills that tore through his spine.

It was as if the witch were still alive, mocking him.

 Except, there was something different. The voice was slightly different.

 He shook off his trembling, and started walking through the crowd, searching out the person who’d momentarily terrified him.

  It was difficult even for his determined stalking frame to pass through the people who hovered in confusion, looking around.

Finally, the finder saw the boy.

He was stunned; caught motionless by fear. For as the boys’ screams had mocked him, haunted him, so did his appearance.

His hair was as silver as the moon, so very glossy that it should’ve been impossible on such a cloudy day. It was slightly messy but in a soft, tempting way.

The boys skin was flawless, looked as smooth as marble. His coloring was ashen now, but beneath his pallor lurked a complexion that hinted of sun kissed skin and rose.

 The boy’s lips, currently white with fright, were full and shapely.

  Woo bin could imagine, as he stood in his paralyzed state, that when the boy laughed his mouth would be like a rose, red and soft, and would taste like wine, sweet and potent.

 The townspeople knew who the boy was.

 The boy wasn’t a ghost to haunt them, but merely Jimin, shin hye’s nephew. He’d lived in the forest with his aunt, growing wild and beautiful beneath Shin hye’s gentle guidance.

Those who had opposed the execution, and those who’d held doubts, no longer wavered. They’d watched one die in the flames.

  It was Enough.

They saw Jimin now—in the wake of that terror—for what he was: young, with all the loveliness and freshness of youth. He was one of them and they were proud of his exceptional beauty.

 Perhaps they hadn’t the nerve to risk their own lives, but if they could, they would help him.

The finder kept staring at Jimin, trembling inwardly.

 The boy looked like Park shin hye, but he was much younger. He was just a boy still, but lovely and as tempting as ripe fruit, in the full bloom of youthful grace.

 In a plain wool shirt of simple gray homespun, he was the most beautiful creature the finder had ever seen walk the earth.

Something stirred within Woo bin’s state of spellbound fear.

That something was desire, as riddling and gripping as the fear.

 Sinful desire.

The look the boy gave him was the most contemptuous disgust, and horror he’d ever witnessed.

 He was, he knew, from the clear message in the boys’ dark chocolate eyes, more heinous to him than the lowest of rats or snakes.

 He was the spawn of the devil.

 Only the devil could make a young boy so provocative that he could reduce a man to a trembling, mindless creature lost to carnal thoughts, and to dreams of his tempting ripeness…

 A boy…

How dare the boy stare at him with fire burning brightly in his eyes, full of accusation and loathing.

 Only the devil could lift the boys chin, could give the look of haughty aristocracy to the delicate features of a mere peasant boy.

The devil’s own!

He lifted a finger and pointed it toward the boy. “Seize him!” he cried out.

 Park Jimin heard the words faintly—they came to him from the depths of a thick gray fog.

Death had stunned him, horror held him tightly in a vise.

 His aunt was dead.

Oh, God, she was dead.

 They’d dragged her to the stake, tied her there, and set her on fire. The air stank with the scent of her charred flesh; it was too horrible to believe or fully comprehend.

Now this man, Woo Bin—the finder—was staring at him.

His dark, probing eyes were on Jimin.

 In them he could see a reflection of fire—the fire of the stake. He was calling Jimin “evil” …

And Jimin turned to run.

 Huddled in an alleyway, Jimin remembered that he’d been warned by the neighbors, who’d loved Shin hye, not to come near the execution.

But since the day the men had burst into his aunt’s cottage and dragged Shin hye out into the midday sun, Jimin had been living a nightmare of confusion and horror.

He’d been in the woods when the men had come. From the shadows of the huge, and sheltering oaks that surrounded the little house, he’d seen his aunt get taken.

 The shouts in the streets seemed to be coming closer.

 Jimin tore down another alley, leaning back against the rear wall of a bakery. He was somewhat shielded from view by a series of grain crates, and he took the opportunity to breathe in gulps of air. Closing his eyes, he couldn’t help but think back…

He’d been stunned when they’d took his aunt, shocked into immobility.

When the truth of what was happening seeped into his mind, he’d run after them, scattering herbs and roots he’d been collecting along the way.

The men on horseback—with his aunt prisoner—were halfway down the road before he’d panted his way to the front of the house.

 Needles of pain shot through his healthy young legs, and through his laboring lungs. He’d paused only a second, then started to run again, his bare feet pounding down the dirt lane with a speed almost equaling that of the horses.

But Mistress Kim, their nearest neighbor in the forest, had managed to stop him.

“Jimin! You can’t go after her!” Mistress Kim pleaded, tears in her eyes, as she measured the accusing eyes of the boy. “There’s nothing you can do now, Dear.”

“They’ve taken her. The finder has taken my aunt…” Jimin had cried.

 Mistress Kim cradled the boy against her.

“Shin hye is in God’s hands now, boy. And you can’t help her—but you can get yourself arrested too! We can’t do anything but wait, child, and pray that the Lord intervenes.”

 But the Lord did not intervene. He didn’t always understand everyone’s worship of god.

But until the very last moment Jimin had prayed that a miracle would happen.

 Park Shin hye had been the kindest, gentlest person alive. She’d loved the forest, she’d loved the creatures. And she loved Jimin.

She’d spent her life caring for the sick and wounded—her neighbors, and any creature, great or small. But Her determination to heal had brought her to her death.

The wife of a farmer who’d been cured of sickness by shin hye’s potion of herbs had accused her of “bewitching” her husband because the husband had revered Shin hye as a saint in thanks for his life.

 Jimin opened his eyes.

Had he come far enough?

 No.

The voices had been distant, but now he could hear them more clearly.

 He pushed away from the wall of the bakery and ran blindly east, through the alleyways between huddled houses, smiths, and barns.

 Once again he found seclusion beneath an overhang, and paused, breathing deeply, feeling the pain ravage him again.

 His poor aunt! It was impossible that she was gone—so brutally, so cruelly.

 Orphaned at eleven when his parents had both died from a sickness, Jimin had at first been sent to live with his mother’s family.

 They’d been kind people, but strictly religious, and after life with his accepting and fun-loving father, it’d been quite a change.

 They were also extremely poor, and knowing that he’d been a burden to them had hurt Jimin terribly.

Jiyong, his second cousin and ten years Jimin’s senior, had tried very hard to convince him—that he was added help, not a burden.

 He was a religious, serious young man, but his eyes had always been warm and tender and he’d spoken to Jimin in the gentlest of tones.

Then Shin hye had come, and immediately she’d loved Jimin. They all knew that Jimin would be loved and cherished if he went to live with Shin hye.

 During the eight wonderful years Jimin had grown up in the small woods home of his aunt, he’d come to know that Park Shin hye was very simply, very basically, one of the finest human beings alive.

 In an era when blood was shed over the slightest discrepancy in belief, Shin hye was truly good. Her religion was the forest; her God was one of goodness.

Oh, yes—whatever god existed should have intervened!

But he hadn’t, and Park shin hye had died. She’d been murdered.

Jimin’s heart caught suddenly and skipped a beat. He could hear him again—Woo bin!

“Find him! Find that little Devil!” Woo bins voice boomed.

  He was close, and it seemed that the alleyways were full of whispers, full of the sound of running feet. Jimin turned a corner and collided with an old man.

He lifted a finger to his lips.

 “Run, boy, run!” the stranger whispered.

 Jimin knew he had to run.

  But there seemed to be nowhere to go, no safe place. Run—because if he didn’t, he, too, would become charred flesh and ash in the wind…

Desperation and deep-rooted instincts for survival spurred Jimin’s strong limbs into fluid action.

 He couldn’t cry for his aunt; he couldn’t even afford the time to feel pain. It didn’t matter. Jimin was numb.

 He raced north through the city, behind him, he could hear the shouts of the guards as they lashed out against the crowd that held them.

Jimin began a zigzag course, one that started to take him west as well as north. A new sound, rasping, heaving, reached his ears.

 It was the sound of his own gasping breath, it mingled with the rush of the blood that filled his ears like the sound of waves, and with the terrible thudding and pounding of his heart.

The woods, he thought.

 He had to get out of the city and into the woods. He could find shelter in the dense forests, there were caves, crannies, and cliffs and he could disappear as easily as a doe—until he could find a way back to his distant family again.

They would help him.

Jiyong, or his father, would know what to do, how to hide him…

Jimin couldn’t seem to outrun the smell of burning flesh, or the sound of the chase behind him.

He ran down another alley, rank with the stench of decaying garbage.

 A cat, skeleton-thin, screeched in his path, arching its back. He tried to run around it, but the panicked cat bolted with him.

 He tripped over it, and sprawled into the mud and dust and garbage. Spitting dirt out of his mouth, Jimin scrambled to his feet.

“This way,” cried a soldier.

“Down the alley!” shouted another.

“No son of the devil gets to live!” returned the first voice.

 Jimin lost all conscious thought and logic as he heard the voices of the soldiers. Like cornered prey, he had no reason.

 As he rounded the corner, he left behind the alley of the slums. The scent of salt and tangy sea breezes finally began to clear the smoke.

 He came across a row of dockside houses. Not elegant mansions, but townhouses that belonged to sea captains and merchants.

Across from the townhouses were the docks and ships, everything from tiny fishing boats, to the massive merchant ships, and the men-of-war that sailed across the Atlantic.

The sea.

Jimin paused for a moment, drawing in great gulps of air as he pivoted on his toes, desperately seeking a place to hide.

A peal of thunder sounded suddenly, and as if the sky had been torn in two, rain began to fall in gushes.

Jimin stared desperately at himself, blinking against the rain. At the far end of the townhouses he could make out a sign.

 It creaked and swayed beneath the wind and rain, but he could make out the words, TAVERN.

Knowing only that he refused to stand, and wait to be captured in the pouring rain, he raced for the three rickety steps that led to the tavern’s door.

 A tavern was a glorified bar. The only difference was it had rooms to rent.

 It was gray inside, almost as gray as it was outside. The air was heavy too, but heavy with smells that were nice. The delicious scent of fresh bread was in the air.

Jimin stood by the door for a second, wide dark eyes scanning the bar. There were rough wood tables in the room, a fireplace against the far wall that offered a mellow, comforting heat.

Several of the tables were filled with brawny customers—some crusty old sea salts, from the looks of them.

The others were pirates maybe…

 Jimin prayed desperately that he had enough coins in his shoe to buy a cup of beer. If he could slip quietly into one of the shadowy corners of the gray room, he could bide a little time.

 His decision made, he moved quickly, keeping close to the wall to reach the secluded corner table.

 All he wanted to do was disappear into the woodwork.

 Instead, he found himself drawing in a sharp gasp, and then swallowing quickly, so that he wouldn’t cry out.

 The chair he’d jumped into behind the beam was not empty, and he hadn’t sat on cold wood.

 Through the wool of his pants he could feel heat, hard, firm, and as strong as wood; but unlike the wood, the form he’d encountered was alive.

 Jimin tried to get up, but then he couldn’t—because a pair of arms like steel were wrapping tightly around him. He twisted quickly to stare into a pair of striking dark eyes.

 A high-arched dark brow rose with amusement within the contours of a strongly chiseled and handsome face.

Full, mobile lips curved into a dry smile. “I’ve been waiting for you. Welcome to the tavern.”

“What?” Jimin gasped out.

The dark-haired stranger was frowning then, assessing Jimin with annoyance.

“Damn, you’re a mess. I wasn’t expecting the latest fashions, but clean would have been appreciated.” The stranger said with a hint of annoyance.

“Excuse me?!” Jimin snapped, and then paused with the cold realization that the man had been expecting a whore—and that he was assuming Jimin was the person he’d hired.

 Had the other young man ordered a male?

 He couldn’t think of anything except escaping the iron hold, and the strange shivers that swept through him as the stranger held him tighter.

“No—” Jimin started to protest, but suddenly there was another man striding through the dimly lit tavern toward them.

 “Get out of here, boy!” the man, a husky, fellow in an apron, told him grimly. “We don’t cater to children here!”

The strange man had his hand on his arm. Jimin was reminded that the streets crawled with soldiers, searching for him.

“Leave him alone,” the striking stranger with the iron arms said quietly. “I believe he’s older than he looks and I’ve been expecting a…companion.”

“As ye wish, Captain.” The older man said.

“Oh, will you see that this kind boy is brought some wine rather than beer, and some of the lamb stew, and that bread you’ve just baked.” The stranger asked the tavern man.

“Right away, m’lord.”  The worker hurried off, wiping his broad hands upon his apron.

Reason began to cut through the haze of fear, and numbness that had engulfed Jimin.

 “Let me up!” he demanded.

“Let you up?” A single dark brow rose high again with amusement, then lowered as his eyes narrowed with a flash of cynicism. “As you wish.”

 He stood and Jimin found himself unceremoniously on the floor, staring up at the man. He was too stunned to speak for a moment, suddenly acutely aware of the stranger’s height and the width of his shoulders.

 He must stand, Jimin thought with a bit of awe, well near six feet. Pants clung tightly to well-muscled thighs, and his expertly tailored coat accentuated his powerful chest, and a torso that tapered handsomely at the waist.

 Jimin suddenly realized that he was giving the stranger an assessment while half seated, half sprawled, at his feet.

 He jumped up swiftly, aware that the top of his head was almost below the other man’s chin when he planted his hands firmly on his hips, looked up, and snapped, “You bastard!”

the larger male shrugged, thick dark lashes half hovering over his eyes with disinterest.

“I’m not in the mood for games,” he told Jimin, the lashes rising again.

  That dark mysterious stare could sizzle dangerously, Jimin noted, but he was too exasperated to heed any danger signals. His treatment at the hands of this apparent “lord” was just rude.

 Jimin gasped as a hand shot out to catch his wrist, constricting it painfully in a tight grip. Belatedly he realized that the stranger’s eyes were indeed as dangerous as the square set of his determinedly formed jaw.

And then he remembered why he’d run into the tavern.

He might be quite dangerous, but the finder was the enemy, and this man might just offer him escape. At the very least he could buy some time.

“look,” the taller grated harshly. “I told you, I’m not in the mood for games. You looked hungry and I was willing to feed you. But if our arrangement is not what you want, please feel free to leave. The tavern door swings both ways.”

 Jimin quickly lowered his eyes.

 He couldn’t leave the tavern yet.

 The streets could still be swarming with madmen shouting, “devil!”

 Resolution, like the icy waters of a winter stream, flowed through him. Cold. So very cold. So very different from the burning flames of death.

 He couldn’t save his aunt, but could at least try to save himself now.

 He would sell his soul to any devil to escape such a grisly fate. The man wanted a companion, He’d have to act the part.

Jimin shivered suddenly. Could he?

 he had to.

“Forgive me,” he mumbled sweetly, not raising the shield of his lashes.

 He slid into the chair across from the stranger, and kept his gaze on the rough planking of the table until he’d gathered his nerves.

 Then Jimin raised his lashes, and gazed at the other with wide eyes, and an apologetic smile.

 “I’m sorry, I tripped, and was splattered with mud. I’m nervous.” The other male stared at Jimin, and he allowed his lashes to flutter and fall again, praying the stranger would believe it.

 Jimin hoped he was what the stranger liked in other males…

 He felt the scrutiny of the larger man’s glare on him.

 One of his boot-clad leg was stretched out alongside the table, his arm rested on it and he lightly drummed his fingers against it.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

 Jimin glanced up at him—offering him another radiant smile.

“Jimin,” he said softly. How long, he wondered, could he stay here with the stranger? Acting to save himself?

 Tension gripped Jimin’s stomach painfully as he grew more and more uneasy with the role he’d chosen.

 Jimin was usually attracted to other men, as well as a few pretty ladies he’d passed before, but he was still a virgin…

 Was the stranger a supporter of the soldiers? Would he eagerly throw Jimin to the crazy man who was searching for him?

 No, he couldn’t allow himself to think that way. he had to play along, flirt, tease, until…

Until what? He wondered with desperation.

Until the bad men cleared the streets, and he could make an escape to the forest.

Good plan.

“You’re very kind,” he said, irritated by his own stiff tone.

 You’ll have to do better than that. he reprimanded himself. And he smiled again, with all the allure he could muster.

 “I'm starving, and a meal would be appreciated.” He answered.

“So will soap and water,” the other muttered, watching Jimin curiously. Jimin returned the scrutiny, and discovered that he needed to act bold.

 He felt very isolated watching the other male as if he were someone else. The past days had begun the change and the past minutes had completed it.

Jimin’s carefree life had been swept away—and with it his youth, and all his dreams.

He lowered his head, and a bitter smile came to his lips. It had all changed.

Just days ago he had been assured and confident.

Jimin’s dreams of the future were now erased. He was no longer who he used to be.

The untouchable boy that was once called the “forest fairy” was sitting at a table with a man who assumed he was a whore.

 the stranger appeared as rugged as hills, as vital as the sea that crashed against the coast.

 Jimin grated his teeth together. This was also reality and he would do anything for defense.

 he would do anything to avoid being killed.

 The stranger was watching Jimin—too acutely, too curiously. he smiled quickly, thinking that a whore would be stroking the guy’s ego. Right?

“It’s quite a pleasure to see a man of your strength,” Jimin crooned softly.

“Is it?” the other asked.

 Jimin kept smiling, even though he longed to slap the guy and tell him he was incredibly insolent. How would a real whore respond?

 Worse, what if the real whore appeared while they were sitting there?

 Shit.

“Yes, it is,” He replied quickly. “It’s such a pleasure that I’m very anxious to be alone with you.”

He leaned across the table.

 Jimin was suddenly very aware of the stranger’s scent, clean and male and vaguely like the sea.

One of the serving girls came to the table with a steaming bowl of stew, a crude pewter wine-cup, and a new tankard of ale for the captain, or lord, or whatever the stranger was.

Brushing closely against the captain, she asked coyly, “Will ye be needing’ anything, m’lord?”

He smiled in return, “no, thank you.”

Jimin was hungry, but he wanted to eat quickly and leave the public room. Glancing up, he discovered that the other was still watching, and that he was very close.

“Umm, aren’t you eating?” Jimin inquired.

The other male shook his head, his expression curious. “I’ve eaten, thank you.”

Jimin glanced quickly toward the doors.

 It was possible that the officers could rush into the tavern, screaming “Devil,” and drag him back out into the rain-muddied streets.

he had to eat quickly.

So, he did, taking large sips of his wine in between bites of the stew. The wine was potent and comforting. It helped to blur the rough edges of terror that still gnawed whenever he glimpsed the door.

Jimin was startled when the long fingers that’d been idly drumming the table suddenly stretched out to cover his hand.

A little jolt of heat seemed to flash through him at that touch, and he lifted his eyes warily to meet the larger males.

“Are you done yet?”

He nodded uneasily. For a second there seemed to be a quirk of amusement in those enigmatic and compelling eyes.

Jimin was going to have to play his role if he wanted to escape the public room.

Distance, he reminded himself. Withdraw into yourself, and he can’t really touch you.

“Would you like something else? More … stew?” the larger asked.

“No” Jimin responded quickly.

 he leaned across the table, reaching out to touch the others cheek, to caress the contours of his face with his small fingers.

 Jimin’s fingertips seemed to burn at the action, the other was very real, male, and disturbing. he wanted to pull away so desperately.

 “I told you,” he whispered. “I’m anxious.”

 He caught Jimin’s hand and pressed his lips against it.

“Are you really?” he asked softly. “I’ll be…anxious…to see this myself. After you’re cleaned up, of course.”

 “Can we leave?” Jimin murmured.

Jimin could stall, and buy time once he took jimin to where he was staying.

Idiot…he told himself. How would he buy time when he’d been telling the stranger how “anxious” he was?

Fucking hell…

Then he would discover that Jimin was not at all what he claimed to be.

 That would still be minutes away, and right now he had to take things minute by minute. he had to get out of the main room just in case the searchers burst through the doors.

One of strangers’ handsome black brows quirked up a third time as Jimin’s plea brought him back from private thoughts.

“Please,” Jimin said more softly.

 The stranger inclined his head slightly, a faint smile curving his sensuous mouth.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He stood, and once again Jimin was struck by his height and powerful size.

Fuck, why was Jimin so small?

Where was the other staying? he wondered in a moment of panic. If he headed toward the street, Jimin was doomed.

His hand slipped around Jimin’s elbow and they left the sheltered table behind. The customers, listening avidly to an account of the burning that’d taken place, barely glanced up as they made their way toward the stairs.

Jimin didn’t have long to think, moments later he was being ushered into a small, sparsely furnished room.

 There was a bed and a dresser, and a plain screen to the far left of the room. They’d barely entered the room before a worker followed them in with a washbowl and pitcher.

Jimin walked nervously to the window and cracked open the shutters. The rain had stopped, and the afternoon was fading into night.

His heart skipped a little beat as he saw a man in uniform stalking down the street.

 He almost jumped out the window when a hand came down on his shoulder.

“What’s the matter with you?” deep eyes bore into Jimin’s as the larger male irritably voiced the question.

 Jimin blinked quickly, and reminded himself that it was his life at stake.

“Nothing,” he whispered huskily. “Nothing at all…”

He lifted surprisingly gentle fingers to Jimin’s cheek and traced the bone structure down to his mouth. A shiver trailed down Jimin’s spine as the taller lightly followed the curve of Jimin’s lips with his thumb.

His voice was husky when he spoke again, and the velvet within it sent another tingling wave racing along Jimin’s spine.

“If you don’t want to be here, Jimin, then you should leave.” The larger male said.

 “No” He murmured quickly. He forced himself to open his eyes again and face the other with a dazzling smile.

“No,” Jimin repeated, softly this time. “I’m exactly where I want to be…”

“Then, shall we?” he said softly. But there was a hint of impatience in his voice—a warning.

He’d taken off his coat and Jimin saw that his shirt was fine white silk. he shuddered once, just once, and resigned himself to his charade.

 “The washstand,” he told Jimin pointedly, “is over there.”

“Yes, of course,” Jimin muttered, and walked quickly behind the screen.

He hesitated there, just for a moment. If a miracle was going to occur to save him, now was the time.

No miracles occurred.

Jimin closed his eyes tightly, then reached nervously to undo his muddied shirt. It fell to the floor, and when he stood in his underwear only, he shivered, then with numb fingers he reached for the soap.

Cleaning himself of the mud felt good, but the water was cold, shocking him into a greater realization than he wanted to face.

he couldn’t do it.

he couldn’t go through with it.

Right?

Fuck.

“Jimin.”

 The tone was very irritated.

he flinched behind the cover of the screen, finding strength in pointless hatred for the stranger.

“I’m coming,” Jimin called out sharply, then winced again at his own tone.

“I want to please you…” Jimin called out silkily. Then, He moved quickly to the larger with fright.

 He slipped his arms around, allowing his smaller fingers to play on the flesh at the nape of the tallers neck. Jimin felt muscles beneath his touch and the crush of the strangers’ broad chest against his own.

 “Jeon Jungkook.” The stranger said. Finally telling Jimin his full name.

 His arms slipped around Jimin and the power and heat that encircled around, made him shiver.

 He had to go through with it, he warned himself furiously.

But then what? What happened when he was done with Jimin?

Jimin had to pray that this would hide him long enough, and the streets would be cleared of soldiers.

Jimin smiled at him, aware that he didn’t know what to do.

Words, he hoped, would be enough.

“Lord Jungkook, I don’t want to be anywhere else,” he murmured, the nervousness in his voice giving it a husky, sensual quality.

“I’m glad,” Jungkook told him in a low murmur. He turned then and sat on the bed to remove his boots.

 Jimin watched him, then turned around quickly, unnerved by his strange appraisal. His eyes moved over Jimin as if he were surprised, and oddly pleased.

 Jimin risked another glance out the window.

 Soldiers were still prowling along the street. he felt the coil of fear wind tightly in his stomach again, and he stared furtively back at the captain.

 He was, Jimin decided objectively, an extremely handsome young man.

 Lean, fit, and agile, with an attractive display of muscle beneath the taut fabric of his pants and beneath the silk of his shirt. His expression, with the piercing eyes and coal-dark arching brows, was more than handsome, it was ruggedly strong and determined.

Jimin could see him as a sea captain, standing solid against the wind, his voice roaring out orders above the sea. he had no doubt that each and every man would scurry to carry out Jungkook’s commands.

Jeon Jungkook was like a predator.

 Jimin suddenly had to clutch his fingers together to keep them from shaking.

 His position was a miserable one.

 He was forced to play a humiliating role before a man who emanated power, a certain arrogance, and a very rugged determination.

 He would’ve loved to keep his pride before such a man.

Jungkook’s boots hit the floor with a thud.

Jimin’s heart was pounding, limbs frozen. he felt a sudden terror that he would break if Jungkook touched him.

 Jeon Jungkook moved silently on his feet, and that silent movement from such a hard, and well-muscled man unnerved Jimin further.

 You would sell your soul to the devil, he reminded himself, and perhaps that was what he was doing.

 There was a heated gleam in Jungkook’s eyes that was slightly frightening, and a pulse ticked within a vein in his neck.

 Damn, this guy was dominant and scary.

 No... he thought, this couldn’t be happening.

 He had to try and stall, to keep hoping for a miracle.

Jimin stepped back—eluding Jungkook’s arms.

He saw a frown knit Jungkook’s brow tightly, and then the flame of anger creep into his eyes.

“I warned you I wasn’t in the mood for games. I have to be back on my ship soon, and I don’t have time for whatever this is that you’re playing.” Jungkook growled out.

Jimin thought quickly. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He asked with a display of bravado. Fake bravado.

“Am I?” the imposing glare was nerve wracking.

“Payment in advance, Lord Jungkook.” Would they haggle? Would it buy him more time? Jimin hoped so…

“Dammit! Of course, but then I need to hurry up!” Jungkook hissed.

With the words, he tossed a handful of money on the bed. A flaming blush of humiliation crept onto Jimin’s cheeks, and he raised his eyes to meet Jungkook’s, but he was no longer watching.

 Jimin stared at the money, ready to burst into tears, wishing he could slap himself into some sense.

 Jungkook didn’t want to hurt him, he just wanted…Jimin.

 He was trying desperately to save his life—but allowing panic to bring him closer and closer to being killed.

“Dammit, boy!” Jungkook thundered, and Jimin realized he was watching again, his eyes flashing annoyance.

 Jimin vaguely wondered how old the other male was. They didn’t seem that far apart in age, but it didn’t really matter, did it?

 Jeon Jungkook was clearly superior in his social standing.

  “I’ll ask you again, is this not what you want? If not, go! I don’t want someone unwilling.” Jungkook said.

Jimin must have flinched visibly, because Jungkook’s voice softened.

 “If you need the money, take it. But if you want to leave, do it now, I have been at sea a long time, and there are things I’d like to forget for a while in the arms of someone soft and sweet-smelling. It doesn’t matter to me who it is, if they’re clean and can ease my needs.” Jungkook’s words seemed almost pleading, and jimin figured it must be stressful being in charge.

Jimin began to speak but couldn’t continue.

Jungkook was being kind, he realized bitterly, offering payment when he hadn’t even done anything yet. He felt like an asshole and he wasn’t even a real prostitute…

 For some reason, it hurt Jimin that Jungkook didn’t care if he had jimin or someone else.

Was he not what Jungkook would’ve chosen?

Did that fucking matter? He asked himself with sudden embarrassment.

“Make up your mind, now,” he told Jimin. “You were so anxious before, have you lost interest now? If so, I want you out of this room.”

“No.” Jimin protested quickly. Blindly, he picked up the money. Bitterly aware that he might need it when he escapes, he slipped them into the pocket of his pants.

With awkward, trembling fingers, he reached to unfasten the tie of his pants. As if his embarrassment wasn’t already bad enough.

It was then that there came a tapping at the door and Jimin’s fingers froze.

“My lord?”

It was a woman’s voice. Soft, questioning, and it was followed by a husky giggle.

The real whore Jungkook had been sent.

Oh, fuck.

He thought swiftly. Had he really not ordered a male?! Why did he act fine with Jimin then!?

 In desperation, he flashed a quick smile as he hurried to the door.

 he threw it open and stepped into the hall, closing the bedroom door behind himself, and forcing the golden-haired woman away from it.

“Who’re you?” she demanded haughtily of Jimin.

“The first to arrive,” Jimin replied coolly.

“I’m here for Lord Jeon Jungkook,” the golden-haired woman said angrily.

“Then you have been misinformed, he’s already with me.” Jimin countered.

“Get out of my way. I was told to come—” she retorted.

“So was I,” Jimin lied, smiling sweetly but with a determined flash to his eyes with a threat of malice. he handed the woman some of Jungkook’s money. “Take this—and get out of here quickly.”

“I don’t want to!” The whore protested, narrowing her eyes. “I think I’ll just look in myself, and see if he wouldn’t prefer a woman—”

“I’m much, much younger,” Jimin interrupted pointedly. He couldn’t let this slut cost him his life.

 But pity touched him, and he couldn’t feel any real hatred.

“Please, take the money and leave. It’ll be for nothing.” Jimin almost begged. She’d blow his cover.

“You have youth, but I have experience. Perhaps Lord Jeon would prefer what I have to offer.” She laughed. “He’s not choosing a partner, Just an hour’s entertainment.”

“Jimin!” Jungkook’s voice thundered from the room.

At any second Lord Jeon Jungkook would stalk into the hallway, demanding to know what was going on.

 Shit.

Jimin took a step toward the woman with new threat and a ruthless determination.

“Leave now! He’s mine, and I promise to slit your throat from ear-to-ear to keep him! Take this and go!” Jimin hissed angrily.

The woman appeared stunned, but took the money being offered, and the assurance of that seemed more profitable than an assault. She backed away.

Jimin leaned wearily against the door frame, desperately wishing he was the one with the freedom to walk down the steps.

“Jimin!” The impatient call came out to him, like a noose, tightening on his throat.

Better a hypothetical noose than the heat of the flames, he reminded himself.

He reentered the room, grateful for the darkness that hid his eyes from the relentless stare of, Jeon Jungkook...

Chapter Text

Jungkook

 Jeon Jungkook frowned as he watched the unusual silver haired beauty who’d come to him. The other male was acting strange.

One moment Jungkook felt as if he were with the most sensual seducer, and in the next, he felt as if he’d come across an indignant aristocrat.

The man he’d met when he’d docked convinced Jungkook he needed casual companionship, he'd kept his promise to send someone “exquisite.”

 Someone to ease his dark mood, a temporary haven from tragic personal responsibility, and from the tension and danger of his true purpose in the city.

This feminine boy could, he thought with a smile, do all that. 

 he could make Jungkook forget everything.

  At times, it seemed Jimin shuddered from his touch, but he'd fought with a fiery temper to keep Jungkook for himself.

 There was a strange sense of innocence about Jimin, yet Jungkook sensed in the smaller male’s eyes that he could be a tempest of sensuality if he wanted.

 He’d felt that for some reason Jimin was regretting their meeting, yet when he was offered an out, he’d turned it down.

Repeatedly.

Jimin had sent away a woman, Jungkook reflected with amusement.

It was a curious situation. Jungkook preferred the company of men anyway, but Jimin was different.

 Jimin was tempting.

 Who was this Jimin, and just what was going on?

 Jimin was awkward with his pants, almost as if he were reluctant to undress.

Yet he was captivating as he did.

Darkness was falling, Jungkook realized regretfully. How he longed to light a candle. But he didn’t, sensing that Jimin needed to come to him in dim light.

 He was obviously shy.

 Jimin didn’t glance his way, but hurriedly climbed into the bed.

A shudder tore through Jungkook’s body, and he was made very acutely aware of his almost painful reaction to Jimin.

His muscles tensed; his member throbbed.

A loud shout from the street pierced the web of sensual enchantment that was spinning around them, and he twisted to glance out the window again.

Kim Woo bin the finder, and self-proclaimed evil hunter...

That damned raving lunatic.

Jungkook had seen him before, finding “witches and Devils” by order of some king jungkook couldn’t care two-shits-about.

Woo bin shouted something again. He and his men turned down the alley. Then finally disappeared.

A slight sound, a shifting of limbs against the sheets, attracted his attention. He returned his gaze to the bed, and the stunning figure on it.

 Jimin’s silver hair was spread on the pillow, a small silken fan against the white linen. His eyes were closed.

 Jungkook’s eyes roamed to the elegant length of neck and soft looking throat.

Jimin was flushed a tender pink, and his luxurious dark lashes swept low over his cheeks.

 Much better than any women Jungkook had ever been offered.

 Ever.

Just a glance at Jimin, he thought disbelievingly, and he feels like he has a fever.

The roaring in his ears began all over again, his mind was swept clean. He’d wanted his craving soothed and his mind cleansed.

 It was happening.

In the darkness Jimin looked impossibly smooth, but suddenly his enigmatic eyes were as wide as saucers.

 Then the scared look was gone, his ink-black lashes slid lazily over his eyes, a subtle curve touched his lips, and a tremor suddenly riddled Jungkook’s body.

 He moved cautiously to Jimin.

 The other glanced up at him, eyes widening again.

 Jungkook saw a pulse beating furiously at the base of Jimin’s throat, and again he found himself wondering just who this unique male was?

Too fine, too beautiful, for this job.

He touched the smaller males silver hair. Jimin’s eyes stared into his, deep and mysterious, slightly glazed and luminescent.

 Jimin’s lashes brushed over his cheeks again, and his fingers curled over the sheets. Jungkook moved his gaze all over, haunted by the well sculpted body, and full beauty of Jimin’s sinful lips.

 He found himself smiling, impatient, his rushing blood seeming to come alive with a smoldering fire. Yet he was equally willing to go slow and prolong his own torture to touch and explore all that made up the perfection of Jimin’s form.

 He’d wanted nothing more than a quick, uninvolved fuck; now he wanted to make love, to tease Jimin’s senses as he allowed his own to soar.

He knelt beside the smaller, taking him gently into strong arms.

“I need you, Jimin,” he whispered.

 Jimin flinched at his touch but so faintly, he could’ve imagined it. Jungkook began to touch, savoring the softness of the skin he’d been eyeing.

 Jimin jerked slightly as his fingers grazed over a nipple, then settled to find the erratic beat of his heart.

 Jimin was still as Jungkook allowed his fingers to explore, massaging the others throat, the slope of his shoulders, the length of his toned muscles, to the curve of his waist. He found the cleft in Jimin’s back, the slight dimples that shadowed his butt just below his spine.

 Jimin 

Jimin barely dared to breathe, staring, as if compelled, at Jungkook’s eyes.

It'd taken all his willpower—and the fear of a burning death—to remain still at the first touch.

It was becoming more than willpower, and fear that held him.

 If there was truly a devil who could lure and seduce the innocent, it was Jeon Jungkook.

 Conscious thought slipped slowly away. A part of his mind darkened to oblivion; a new part awakened vibrantly.

 Jimin’s flesh came alive, and the heat grew within him, spinning from some undefined center.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to stop Jungkook!

 He also wanted more…

“Search every street! No devils can live!” A shout suddenly came faintly from the streets.

 Jimin, hearing, forced himself to not stiffen.

he offered Jungkook his best attempt at a sultry and seductive smile and pressed his body closer to the larger.

“I want you,” Jungkook murmured. Jimin assumed it was all the other could say to a perfect stranger.

“And I want you …” Jimin answered, again grateful that the fear in his voice created a huskiness that could pass for sensuality.    

 And he was aflame, torn between the exotic new sensations of being caressed, and the terror that kept his blood pounding mercilessly through his system.

 Jungkook suddenly got up and Jimin opened his eyes cautiously to see that the other was stripping away his shirt.

 He paused then, staring at Jimin as he laid there.

Jungkook climbed back beside Jimin again, slipping his arms around, and crushing them against each other chest to chest.   

 Jimin’s head tilted backward, his eyes widened as his arms responded instinctively to Jungkook’s hold, slipping around his neck.

 Jungkook 

 Jungkook lowered his head slowly over Jimin’s, feeling as if he were drowning a bit in the dark eyes. His lashes closed only as he touched Jimin’s lips with his, tasting the natural sweetness.

 With the lightest touch, he caressed Jimin’s mouth, vaguely aware that he'd stumbled into quicksand, and he'd sink farther and farther into a magical abyss of no return.

 It didn’t matter.

He traced Jimin’s lips with his tongue, and then the feeling overwhelmed him, and he delved deeply into the smaller's mouth, tasting a spark that drove him wild.

He was compelled to consume, and his mouth hungrily ravaged, his tongue delving deeper and deeper, demanding all.

A soft, strangled moan escaped Jimin, but he wasn't fighting.

His lips were forming to Jungkook’s, fingers threading through his dark hair.

“Jimin…” he said softly, the words on his lips were soft, “You're a fallen angel, truly sinful…a devil…”

Jimin’s body, so sweetly pliant beneath his, suddenly stiffened. His eyes widened until they seemed to encompass his face.

“What?” He gasped, a croak that sounded strangely of terror.

“A temptation,” he assured, “sinful, you have me amazed by your beauty.” Jungkook explained.

Jimin took a deep breath and exhaled, and as he did, the tension left his limbs.

“Oh…” He mumbled softly. When his eyes met Jungkook’s again, he saw that they were veiled, cheeks flushed.

 Jungkook stood to pull the string on his own pants finally and remove them. Jimin returned his gaze at first, but when Jungkook stood naked, the flush in the smallers cheeks became crimson.

 As if suddenly aware of his own nudity, Jimin closed his eyes with a shudder and reached nervously for the linen sheets to cover himself up.

“No” Jungkook all but shouted, startling himself with the sound of his voice. But Jimin’s action had stunned him. It was almost as if Jungkook’s nudity had frightened the other.

 Earlier, he could’ve let Jimin go.

 Not now though.

 Jimin would not get away from him now.

He’d offered the other male every option, but he’d insisted on this game, and now he was finding the touch-me-touch-me-not to be tattering on his temper.

He was beside the smaller, wrenching the sheets from his grasping fingers, pulling him into his arms, beneath his weight, before Jimin could even begin to muster the strength to fight against him.

His mouth found Jimin’s.

 Jimin

The gentle, seductive quality was gone, but the kiss still seduced Jimin.

It was hungry. It ravaged, demanded, and swept him into a storm he was helpless to resist.

 Jungkook’s mouth left Jimin’s, to caress a nipple with lips and tongue and teeth. Again, the lightning knifed through Jimin, leaving him trembling, clinging to Jungkook’s shoulders, his nails curving convulsively into flesh.

 He sobbed out a broken moan, of dismay, of yearning—of something he’d never experienced before, the burning ache that blazed from deep within.

He was unaware that he was tossing his head on the pillow, back and forth, emitting soft little moans. The world for him had ceased to exist, he was drifting on a sea of sensation, and Jungkook was the sensation that overwhelmed.

Jungkook’s lips and hands moved down Jimin’s torso, still hungry, still demanding, and he couldn’t do anything but swirl along with him in the vortex of this storm.

Jimin wondered vaguely what would have happen if he had the will to resist Jungkook. It probably wouldn’t matter in the least.

Jungkook was like the steel of a forge, heated strength, and his limbs, the hard-muscled arms, corded thighs, were like the finest blade.

 Jungkook could easily overpower Jimin, at any time, with the long fingers of a single hand.

A gasp escaped Jimin as Jungkook’s hand spanned over his thigh, fondling, exploring.

lips burned against the shadowed hallow of Jimin’s abdomen beneath his belly button.

He scratched his fingers into the larger male’s dark hair again.

Jungkook caught Jimin’s wrists, and laced their fingers through, and held Jimin’s hands by his thighs while his mouth continued to taunt the vulnerable skin.

 Jungkook’s tongue had drawn moist patterns, following the line of his abs, circling lower and lower until he brushed against the edge of Jimin’s innocence.

  Jungkook engulfed him.

 Jimin should have been shocked by it, but it was his body that responded now, not his mind. And his body writhed and arched.

A shudder went through him, an incomprehensible cry escaped his lips, fingers tightening, knuckles white on Jungkook’s.

 Jimin writhed to escape him, the sweet glory of the liquid fire, but Jungkook held him with firm hands. In seconds his writhing was not to try and escape, but to have more and more.

 His mouth came to Jimin’s again, the heat and strength of his body entrapping. Jimin shivered beneath him, vaguely aware that they’d passed a point of no return.

 Jungkook

 Jungkook reveled in Jimin.

 His exquisite form heightened the desire unbearably. He’d never known another male to give him such pleasure without even trying, whose innocent sensuality alone could send anyone into a frenzy.

  Jungkook slipped his hand between Jimin’s glorious thighs, parting them. They trembled slightly, and gave to his touch.

The invitation of the smallers body totally severed the fine line of Jungkook’s control. He groaned audibly as the locks of his restraint shattered, leaving him totally at the mercy of need.

 He entered Jimin with explosive force, and was stunned as the scream tore from Jimin’s throat, shocked at the message that vaguely filtered into his mind.

 He’d forgotten to prepare Jimin more thoroughly, because it’d been years since he’d been with another male…

Even then, it’d been only a few times...

But he couldn’t pull out from Jimin now, and would it help anything.

It was too late to ease the pain he'd inflicted with his first explosive thrust—it was equally too late to leave.

“N-no! Get out!” Jimin pleaded brokenly. And then his voice rose in anger. “get out of me!”

Jimin suddenly pitted his strength against Jungkook like a wild animal.

Jungkook was startled, and then furious.

 No one was expected to be seduced—to this point and then to withdraw with chivalry. He’d given Jimin every opportunity to leave before it got to this…

He smiled grimly at the glazed fury in the other male’s eyes as he struggled against it.

 “little one,” he said softly, “I forgot to prep you better, I’m sorry…”

“bastard,” Jimin said shakily, and yet the fury left his eyes and pain replaced it. Jungkook eased his hold, and gently soothed the smaller's silver hair.

“Shhh …” he murmured, able to pause only a minute, but gaining control again.

“I’ll be gentle.” Jungkook said as moved slowly, fluidly. Jimin clasped his arms around Jungkook as he held the other still beneath him, Jimin’s teeth grazing into the muscle of his shoulder, his nails lightly raking Jungkook’s back.

 He felt the tenseness that'd seized Jimin slowly begin to ebb, and he whispered, promising the pain would go away, and pleasure would come again.

And his strokes within the smaller were deep and smooth. He was right, the pain did begin to ebb. But when it’d come, it had been a slap in the face. It’d reminded Jimin what he was doing. Where he was.

“Jimin…” Jungkook’s voice was a whisper of air. A husky sound that touched inside him again. As the pain faded away, the fire began to lap at him again. And suddenly he realized that Jungkook’s thrusts were deep, steel and fire.

The smoldering fire became a flame. The flame rose to a blaze. And Jimin was holding on, fusing with him.

Arching with a hunger all his own. He took Jimin.

Then everything subsided except for blinding sensation.

 He was gasping for breath, half sobbing as he clung to Jungkook, arching, emitting a strangled cry, an echo of the shattering ecstasy that convulsed his body, flooding it with the most wonderful, delightful sensation he’d ever known.

For long moments, the feeling held him in wonder, and then it slowly began to fade. All that was left was the comfort of the man who held him, smoothing his hair, his steel power cooling, but losing no strength.

Reality began to set in again.

 Jimin was alone, naked in bed, with a perfect stranger.

He choked back a cry of pain and fury and twisted from the hold, stunned and so miserable that he was almost numb.

Jimin knew that he was watching, that he was risking Jungkook’s fury—and his own life.

 Jungkook was definitely watching him.

 He didn’t try to touch, but frowned as he observed Jimin’s shoulders, tremble with emotion.

 Why’d Jimin come to him? he wondered—irritated and confused. He finally reached out to touch the smaller's shaking shoulder.

 “Don’t!” Jimin demanded in a low, cold voice.

  Stunned, Jungkook felt his anger grow along with the deathly silence that seemed to fill the room. Perplexed, and thoroughly annoyed, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and raked his fingers through his hair.

 A shout, clear and thunderous, rose from outside the window again. Careless about his nudity, Jungkook stalked over to the shutters.

“That damned crazy-ass woo bin,” Jungkook muttered beneath his breath. “It’s a pity the devil doesn’t rise up in a wall of flame and consume him.”

 He heard the sharp intake of Jimin’s breath and turned back to the bed.

Jimin was staring at him now—and his face had gone as white as the sheets he’d pulled around him.

He frowned curiously, then added, “I believe he’s gone.”

Jimin relaxed visibly, a small, soft sigh escaped the other male.

Jungkook’s sharp gaze narrowed reflectively.

 He crossed his arms over his chest, and treaded back to the bed as Jimin watched him warily, dark eyes wide with alarm at the speculation in his stare and cynical, knowing half-grin.

“You’re the devil,” he breathed.

“I’m not a Devil!” Jimin protested desperately.

“Oh, you're a devil!” Jungkook laughed, “but not the type woo bin is hoping to burn. Are you?”

If possible, Jimin’s face went whiter.

“Jimin,” he persisted, the teasing smile leaving his face. “Are you the ‘devil’ Woo bin is out there searching for?”

 Jimin dropped his head hopelessly against the pillow, staring sightless up at the rafters.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked softly. “You could've saved yourself the apparent misery of...” jungkook trailed off.

 Point clear…

Jimin swallowed and touched his suddenly dry lips with the tip of his tongue.

 “I … I was scared. You might have …” Jimin trailed off.

“Turned you in? Please, what do I look like? A fanatic like woo bin?” Jungkook asked sounding almost offended.

Jimin bit his lip, trying to weigh his reply.

“You’re a lord,” Jimin told Jungkook tonelessly. “You might be a loyal supporter of their King.”

Jungkook chuckled softly.

“I’m a different kind of lord, one who doesn’t feel he owes loyalty to kings, and anyone who thinks the devil dwells within innocent young men and women, is either sadly misguided or a raving lunatic.” Jungkook paused reflectively for a moment.

“Woo bin, I believe, is definitely the latter.” Jungkook commented.

“just a lord,” Jimin murmured.

“I beg your pardon?” Jungkook asked.

“You aren’t one of them,” Jimin repeated tonelessly.

“I had no idea who or what you were. I didn’t know whether I could possibly trust you. I don’t even know your title name,” Jimin added bitterly.

The wicked smile came into play. “Just Captain Jungkook is fine,” he told the other.

“Captain Jeon Jungkook, Nevertheless, my father was a close friend of the late and well-lamented King, and that’s why the Jeons’ fortune has done well.” Jungkook explained.

 Jimin was amazed to hear himself laugh, but he sobered as he did. Jungkook grinned wryly in return, and yet Jimin sensed a tension in him, a bitterness.

“The question,” Captain Jungkook said softly, “is, who’re you? Certainly, not the actual whore that was supposed to be sent.”

“Oh, right…” Jimin mumbled out. there was no point in pretending to be a lowly whore anymore. He’d been a fucking virgin for heaven’s sakes.

“So,” Jungkook said with a shake of his head. “Who’re you? Why is Woo bin after you?”

 Jimin blinked furiously as tears came to his eyes, his voice breaking as he spoke.

 “The ‘witch’ woo bin executed this afternoon was my aunt.   She didn’t even get a trial. I tried to get her, but no one would even speak with me! I didn’t go near her because my neighbor warned me woo bin would take me if I interfered.” Jimin lowered his head, feeling tears fall on the sheet clasped against his chest.

 “Shin hye wasn’t a witch, she was wonderful, and admired, and loved.” He continued.

 Jungkook reached out a finger to smooth the tears from his cheek.

 “Probably too well loved,” he answered quietly. “Love can breed envy, and the envious make the most vicious enemies.”

The gentle quality in his voice brought Jimin’s eyes back to Jungkook’s.

He was suddenly acutely aware of the strength of character in the others face.

  The long, but flawless nose, the arched jet brows, the full, demanding mouth, were ruggedly attractive. Confidence and command were permanently stamped into them. And, a touch of arrogance.

 Jimin furiously wiped his tears away.

He moved as far as possible from Jungkook on the bed as he thought of all that had happened.

 He was a man Jimin might have admired and respected. A man he would’ve liked to receive admiration—and respect from.

But his respect was lost to Jimin now—as shattered as the innocence he would never know again.

He can’t believe he’d slept with… a perfect stranger…

Perhaps Jungkook had read the thoughts in Jimin’s mind. Or perhaps his own thoughts had simply fallen on the situation.

 He crossed his arms over his chest and said softly, “Don’t worry, Jimin. I’ll take care of you.”

A tide of shame and humiliation washed through him. Jimin was grateful for life…but he felt like his pride sat at his feet like ashes.

“Why should you?” Jimin asked coolly.

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed. “Because I’m not fond of seeing innocent people murdered,” he replied in a low, warning voice.

“I appreciate your concern,” Jimin heard himself murmur, “but I’d prefer to take care of myself. I’ll leave now, alone.”

“Leave the tavern?” Jungkook inquired. “For where, little one?” he mocked curtly. “woo bin will seek you out for days.”

“I won’t stay here.” Jimin argued.

“What’ll you do? Hire a coach and ride away? That’s quite unlikely. The roads will be guarded.” Jungkook pointed out.

“I’ll hide in the forest.” Jimin countered.

“Forever? I don’t believe they’ll stop burning people next month, in time maybe, but that could be decades away, even centuries. It wouldn’t matter either way, you would long be dust in the wind.” Jungkook said rudely but it was true.

Jimin swallowed with despair.

 Jungkook’s harsh words were more than true. There’d be no sanctuary for him in the forest. But if he could just reach his distant family, they’d somehow manage to shield him. Right?

“I’ll have to take you with me,” Jungkook suddenly muttered, more to himself than to Jimin.

 Jimin’s eyes flew open wide.

“Take me with you? No! I have family, all I have to do is get to them-” Jimin felt panicked again.

“And you’re talking in circles!” Jungkook exploded irritably.

“Don’t you understand yet? You can’t get anywhere without me.” Jungkook hissed.

“But I just told you, I have family! I—” Jimin argued again.

“You have to come with me!” Jungkook boomed.

“And where would that be?” Jimin demanded, his voice rising with fury and desperation.

“I’m not sure yet—” Jungkook began, cutting himself off sharply as he suddenly stiffened, his eyes sharp and narrow.

“What—” Jimin started.

“Hush!” Jungkook exclaimed.

And then Jimin heard what he had.

 A commotion growing in the room below, and the tread of footsteps on the stairs.

A thunderous pounding on their door.

And the roar of a voice.

“Open in the name of the king! I know you’re in there, Jeon, and you harbor a fugitive!”

Jimin’s eyes met Jungkook’s with undisguised terror. He stood, putting his breeches on, his stare willing Jimin not to make a sound.

“Get behind the screen!” he hissed.

For an instant Jimin froze, and then he jumped to do Jungkook’s bidding, shielding himself with the screen and peeking around it.

To his horror, He saw that Jungkook was about to open the door.

 “What the bloody hell do you want, Woo bin?” The others voice bellowed angrily within the small room.

  Behind the screen, Jimin tried desperately to still his shivering, but he couldn’t. His life hung in the balance of this moment.

 Despite the danger, he had to peek around the corner of the screen. He could see Jeon Jungkook, who was in nothing but his pants, while Woo bin was fully dressed.

 Still, it was the sea captain who appeared the most threatening.

 Jimin was pleased to see that Woo bin took a step backward when challenged by Jeon.

“You’re with a spawn of the devil, Milord Jeon,” Woo bin stated, his voice politer now. “I ask for the boy. For the good of your immortal soul—”

“My immortal soul is my concern, Woo bin,” Jungkook interrupted coolly, “as is my personal preferences. Get out of my doorway.” Jungkook was calm but menacing.

“I don’t want to have to enter by force—” Woo bin started.

“Enter by force, and it’s your life that’ll be forfeited,” Jungkook interrupted once more with harsh assurance.

“I'm on the king’s business—” Woo bin said with slight shock.

“For a king who sits on a shaky throne. A king who must try to placate the nobles.” Jungkook looked angry.

“be careful.” Woo bin warned.

“You be careful, Woo bin. I’m also aware that the king wants all nobles undisturbed. I’d take great pleasure in reporting to your king that you barged into my bedroom, and most rudely disturbed my activities.” Jungkook spoke with all the command that his title ensured.

Jimin could see woo bin’s face, choked by rage, turn into an ugly mask.

“You’re a traitor, Jeon,” he told Jungkook. And suddenly Jimin wondered if there was more going on here than he knew.

“Nay—never a traitor to the people,” Jungkook retorted, “but you, Woo bin, are a coldblooded murderer.”

“He who deals with the devil becomes the devil,” Woo bin charged, pointing a finger toward Jungkook’s chest. “And a spawn of the devil, you harbor evil! I charge you—”

“I charge you to get your ugly ass out of my doorway!” Jungkook demanded with quiet, deathly fury.

 Again, Woo bin took a step backward, his face with its fevered eyes acquiring a considerable pallor.

 Jimin swallowed back a gasp as he saw why; Lord Jeon was now holding a sword. The finely-honed muscles in Jungkook’s shoulders and back rippled—as if with impatience.

“Get out of here, Kim woo bin.” Jungkook commanded once more. “And don’t come back.”

“Let’s just leave,” Jimin heard the voice of one of the officers standing behind woo bin in the hall whisper loudly with nervousness.

 “the king will surely have you set to the stake if he hears that you have created problems with a Jeon.” Someone else muttered.

“this Jeon is trouble!” Woo bin declared.

 “that I am,” Jungkook drawled with cocky threat.

Woo bin paused only a moment longer, visibly shrinking from the razor edge of the sword aimed toward him.

 “I’m going, Jeon. Take your heathen pleasure with the boy. But know this, I will find him. He is a of the devil and an affront to God and all men who’re holy. I will see that he burns. And I will pray that your soul can be saved from the clutches of the devil.” Woo bin spouted more nonsense.

 Jungkook threw back his head and laughed.

 “Don’t pray for my soul, Woo bin. They already call me the devil, and there’ve been times in the past when the crown was glad for it. Pray for your own soul. You want this boy for your own lust, woo bin, but I promise”—he paused, the laughter leaving his voice— “He’ll never be touched by trash like you. Now, get out of here.” Jungkook growled.

“I’m leaving, Jeon, but I’ll get him soon.” Woo bin threatened.

“You’ll get him?” Jungkook ridiculed. “And then what, woo bin? Will you answer to the law you claim to serve? Will there be a trial? Will you torture a confession from him? Torture is illegal, Kim Woo bin.” Jungkook accused.

“I’ve never tortured an accused person, Men, or women.”

“Never? What do you call it, when you seek your ‘devils’ marks,’ stabbing your victims with picks until they can’t feel at all? Declaring when they no longer scream that you’ve found their devil’s mark?” Jungkook hissed angrily.

“That’s legal procedure.” Woo bin claimed.

“Damn your form of legal procedure. And damn you—you make a mockery of justice.” Jungkook looked like he was about to stab the other.

“You don’t know what justice is! The son of Satan has bewitched you, and you are his slave.” Woo bin raved.

“Take care that in your determination to have the last word between us, that you don’t discover the words you speak are your last.” Jungkook growled out.

Jeon’s voice was quiet once more, and yet the threat was there. Woo bin took the warning.

Jimin was amazed when he saw the others lips whiten and his jaw snap shut. He turned and started down the hall with his men following him.

Relief flooded through Jimin.

Jungkook slammed the door closed.

 Still amazed that the immediate threat to his life had vanished, Jimin walked around the screen in a daze. Instinctively, he grabbed the sheet from the bed again.

 Then he turned to find the Captain gazing at him in brooding silence.

“You were…incredible!” He acknowledged, clinging to the sheet like a lifeline. he added quietly, with all the dignity he could summon, “thank you, milord.”

 He bowed low.

 “The pleasure was mine, Jimin.” His eyes became deadly as he added, with gravel lacing his tone, “’Would’ve been nice to stab that man.”

There was nothing that would have given Jimin greater pleasure, either, his body eased as he came to realize more and more that he was truly safe…for the moment at least.

And yet, as Jimin looked at Jeon Jungkook, the trembling seized him again.

 Jungkook. He, too, was a man to be feared.

 And Jimin was in his debt.

What price was he going to have to pay?

 He’d already given his innocence.

 In less than an hour’s time Jimin had become more intimate with Jungkook than he’d ever envisioned possible. Already he knew the pleasant masculine scent of the other, it was like a sea breeze.

He knew the depths of those dark eyes, the timbre of that deep voice with its soft lilt.

 He knew the feel of muscle beneath his taut flesh. Jimin knew the strength of his arms, the rough feel of his hands that could also be tender.

Jimin wished he could trade all the intimacy for respect. He hurt and felt humiliated to the core.

 There wasn’t much age difference between them, but Jungkook had years and years of world knowledge, Had more standing and stability than jimin, in more ways than one.

Nervously Jimin pulled the sheets tightly around himself, clearing his throat. A weak trembling shuttered through him with the memory of what’d happened.

 His flesh burned from Jungkook’s mere glance and his body recalled the touch of the larger, warm, and secure. He couldn’t control these feelings, the automatic responses to Jungkook’s eyes, the handsome planes of his face, the caress of his lips, and the masculine scent that was both earth and sea.

 Confusion gripped Jimin.

Not because he’d paid this price to save his life, but because Jungkook had touched a part of Jimin that’d never been touched before.

 But He’d lost his pride and honor today and he must resign to that loss. Perhaps he’d also lost the ability to love along with his dreams of love. He was not completely naive.

Shin hye had taught him something of the physical expressions of love and pleasure between people, but he’d only actually learned today.

 But what he’d learned had not been love.

 It was lust, primal desire. Jeon Jungkook had proven himself to be a courteous lover, but still, his touch had nothing to do with love. Obviously.

 He’d taken Jimin and then defended him because Jungkook was, it appeared, a determined fighter.

Jungkook was smiling slightly.

Full mouth curved, eyes ever so slightly mocking that seemed to hold within them a smoldering fire. Truly a hint of the devil.

Jimin straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. A sob was welling within him and he choked it back.

Why was he so weak?

 His pride as a man was already damaged enough.

The look in the Jungkook’s eyes and handsome confident face spoke desire. There was something predatory about it.

He’d saved Jimin, and now, he thought that Jimin was his.

In his debt, yes, Jimin decided angrily, but his possession?

Never.

 All he wanted to do was find a place of refuge, time to heal his wounds with his distant family.

Jungkook lowered his sword, and took a step toward Jimin.

Jimin backed away, fire snapping in his eyes.

“No! Don’t come near me! Would you add more pain to someone you’ve injured?” Jimin yelped out.

“Injured?” Jungkook thundered. Infuriated, he swept his gaze over Jimin. he must have remembered his lack of preparation, and flashed with guilt, for a brief moment.

“Damn it, but you’re so—” He broke off, grating his teeth so hard that jimin heard the sound. He took a swaggering, taunting step, but only to snatch up his shirt and slip it on.

 “If you want to stay alive, I suggest you put on clothes. I have no one around to help. Woo bin will be back in full force. He’s carefully planning my death, and more carefully planning yours. Of course, you won’t die quickly. I may be the devil, but the fire in his eyes is hardly godly, if you can follow my meaning. If me fucking you, hurt your sensitive pride—imagine if it was Woo bin.” The taller said bluntly.

Jungkook didn’t have to say anything else.

He paled and dropped the sheet to scramble hurriedly for his clothing.

Chapter Text

Jungkook

Jungkook paused for a second as he watched, his eyes narrowing.

 Jimin was, indeed, extremely beautiful. So, young and fit, and yet rounded with enticing perfection.

He was as fresh and lovely as the coming of the dawn, ripe for the taking.

Watching Jimin slip into his pants, and shirt caused him to burn with hunger all over again, despite the circumstances.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind, and pulled on his second boot.

“Come on,” he urged, slipping into his coat and returning the large sword to the sheath at his side.

“Let’s go.” He ordered.

Jimin hastily finished lacing his own shoe and hopped to his feet, then paused.

“Go where?” Jimin demanded curtly.

“To my ship, of course.” Jungkook answered.

“No—I’m not going to your ship. If I can just-” Jimin started.

“You’ll go to my ship, you idiot! Don’t you understand—” Jungkook growled.

“Don’t you ever listen?! I have family, distant family. I just have to get to the forest, and from there—” Jimin tried to defend.

“You’ll never get anywhere. Woo bin will have you by midnight.” Jungkook sneered.

“I’m not going with you.” Jimin crossed his arms.

He wasn’t some maiden in distress although he knew that’s how it seemed.

“And I’m not going through life with your death on my conscience.” Jungkook said curtly.

“Jeon, we’ll part ways here,” Jimin snapped out determinedly.

“The hell we will!” Jungkook barked.

“You got your money’s worth. I have my life! We’re even!” Jimin argued.

Jungkook laughed dryly.

 “I’m not sure about my money’s worth, and your life will be worthless if you don’t listen to me. Oh, the hell with it—there’s no time left to argue.” The other male looked irritated.

Jimin backed away from Jungkook, his eyes cautious as the larger came at him with determined strides.

 “No, Jungkook,” He warned, but the words were useless.

 Jungkook caught his hand and ducked low, heaving Jimin over his shoulder while Jimin cursed, and furiously pounded against his back.

 “Let me down! I don’t want to go with you—” Jimin screamed in panic and anger.

 “Stop hitting me and shut up, or I’ll knock your head into the wall!” he warned in a deathly rage.

“You will not.” Jimin whined out sounding childish.

“Don’t test me!” Jungkook growled out.

 “Let me go!” Jimin cried again, slamming a fist hard against the larger male’s shoulder.

He grunted and Jimin felt a large palm crack full force against his ass, causing a stinging pain. Tears of shock and humiliation stung Jimin’s eyes, he blinked them away, stunned and seething with rage.

“You—” He began.

“Shut up!” Jungkook finished, swinging so that Jimin flounced hard against him and totally lost his breath.

With Jimin as his burden, Jungkook threw open the door and hurried down the stairs. The worker stood at the landing. “There’s a horse ready outside, Cap’n. good luck, m’lord.”

Jeon nodded his thanks. “Take care.”

He carried Jimin through the tavern, and out into the cool night, oblivious to the muffled curses from the silver haired male.

A tavern youth held the reins of a nice-looking horse.

Thrown roughly, over the saddle, belly down, Jimin once again found himself breathless, and unable to curse Jungkook any longer.

 With an agile leap Jungkook mounted behind, tossing money to the boy, and smacking the horse on the rump.

The horse broke into a gallop.

 Jimin could do nothing but cling, and feel the coolness of the night sea breeze as it whipped against his face.

 The clip-clop of the horse’s hooves against the cobblestone was like the hard and trembling beat of his heart. Tossed around by the horse’s gait, he barely noticed the shops that they passed, and the few stragglers still walking the streets.

He was only aware of the strong muscles of the horse bunching beneath Him as they reached the docks and veered north along it.

Jungkook reined in, and leapt from the horse in one fluid movement, then reached for Jimin and swept him to the ground without ceremony.

The second his arms released Jimin, He turned to run.

“Get back here!” Jungkook exploded. “I swear to God you’re the most stubborn creature I’ve ever met!”

Jimin cried out as the others fingers tore into his hair, pulling him back hard, against toned chest.

Jimin saw pure fury in the other’s eyes for an instant—and then Jimin was gasping(again) because Jungkook was tossing him over a shoulder(again)-swearing viciously.

“Tae!!” Jungkook shouted, his strides long as he carried Jimin along with him to a broad plank.

“Cap’n? Is that you?” a voice asked.

“Aye, ’tis me. wake the crew and get ready to sail.” Jungkook ordered.

“Now? Damn, but we weren’t due to sail—” the other man started.

“Now. I have feeling we’ll be opposed if we don’t leave soon” Jungkook countered to his best friend.

Jimin finally saw the man as Jungkook jumped to the deck and swung around.

He was tall and slender, and a cap covered the brown hair on his head. His face was weathered a darker tan by wind and sea, but his eyes were a young and warm dark brown.

“Did you get into trouble, then, Lord Jungkook?” The man asked with amusement. A teasing rectangle grin.

“Aye, and 'Trouble' is with me!” Jungkook replied irritably- while Jimin struggled to sink his teeth into the largers back.

 Jungkook cried out sharply, slapping Jimin’s rear once again.

 “More trouble than he’s worth…” Jungkook muttered, further irritated by the other pirates’ laughter.

“He seems to be quite a spit-fire,” the pirate observed with amusement.

“I’m glad you approve,” Jungkook said with a scowl. “Now, stop rambling and rally the crew. I’ll be topside as soon as I’ve secured Jimin within quarters.”

“Quarters!” Jimin cried, trying desperately to dislodge himself from Jungkook’s hold.

“Wait!” he called out, trying to gain the pirates attention.

“This man is kidnapping me! I don’t want to come on this ship, I need help. I—” Jimin cried out with a pleading voice.

“Talkative, isn’t he?” Jungkook groaned.

 The other pirates nearby laughed, and Jimin realized he’d never get help from Jeon Jungkook’s men.

He groaned furiously as Jungkook spun around again—knocking his cheek hard against rigid back.

Dammit.

Pirates shouted, and the silent ship came alive. Jimin instantly saw shapes hurrying along as Jungkook carried him along the deck, nodding briefly to the men who saluted him curiously.

Jimin tried to twist from the grasp to look around the massive ship, but couldn’t. at the rear, he stopped before a door and shoved it open with his boot.

He sat Jimin roughly on his feet, catching him for a second as he staggered, then releasing quickly.

 Jimin found his balance, then went after Jungkook almost insanely, beating at his chest with flapping fists.

“You imperious, insolent, arrogant—Bastard! I can’t go on this ship! I need to get to my family. Please!” Jimin cried with desperation.

“Stop it!” Jungkook grated out, catching his wrists, then pushing Jimin from him. “I’m trying to keep you alive!”

Jimin paused, gasping for breath, staring at him skeptically. He just couldn’t make Jungkook understand, and there seemed to be no way to fight his strength.

 “I won’t be your prisoner, Lord Jungkook,” He fumed, stomping a foot like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Really?” Jungkook cocked a rakishly angled brow with amusement, took a long step toward Jimin, and reached out a finger to lift his chin.

 “A far better thing to be now than a ‘son of Satan’ and”—Jungkook’s voice deepened slightly to that soft but husky tone Jimin was coming to know as dangerous— “for that matter, preferable, I would think, to be my prisoner than a beautiful boy on the streets. Of course, you’d be going out with more experience now...” Jungkook drawled.

Jimin jerked from the touch.

It was true that Jimin didn’t want to burn, but gosh he hated Jungkook now! He was taking Jimin from his only salvation—the dream of reaching his distant family.

He would get away from Jungkook, and tightening his lips in white rage, he raised a hand to hit the larger.

He never got the chance…

Jungkook bowed mockingly, and walked out.

The door closed, but he heard Jungkook’s husky laughter on the other side of the door.

“Perhaps you should spend time pondering your temper, little one.” Jungkook said.

It only fueled Jimin’s anger because the other acted like he was a small child and not a grown man.

The door shook as he hit wildly against it, and the next streak of curses Jungkook received would have brought a blush to anyone’s face.

“Jungkook, you have the sense and manners of an ass! Do you hear me? Open this door!” Jimin yelled.

“I don’t have time, but it is flattering to know how eager you are to see me again, I won’t be longer than necessary.” Jungkook replied sarcastically.

“Damn you, Jungkook! Open the door!” Jimin yelled.

There was no answer—except footsteps receding along the planking.

Jimin pulled at the doorknob, twisting and jerked, but it didn’t budge.

 This was not part of his plan.

“Jeon Jungkook!” Jimin screamed with rising anger. How dare that guy make him a prisoner!

 “Jungkook!” His fists pounded furiously against wood, but it was useless.

Suddenly the ship pitched, and he fell awkwardly to his knees. He scrambled back to His feet, but since he’d never sailed before, he found even the slightest rocking of the ship difficult to handle.

 He finally discovered that he could stand and sway with the movement of the ship, and Jimin hung on, listening to the shouts in the night and the pounding feet along the decks.

How much time had passed? he wondered.

he wasn’t sure, but finally the pitching ship seemed to steady, and he was finally able to survey his surroundings.

It was, most obviously, the captain’s room.

 A broad bunk was fitted into the far-left corner, with cabinets above and below. A large wardrobe was built into the opposite corner, and a huge desk stood prominently to the right.

 The cabin was compact, and yet it held all the amenities. A rich Oriental carpet covered the floor, and the teakwood that made up the few furnishings was sleek and simply carved.

 A large bird in flight was the emblem on the footboard of the bunk and the huge desk. Upon careful examination Jimin noted that the bird was a Seahawk.

“Jungkook…” He murmured dryly to himself.

He’d saved Jimin’s life, that much he had to admit. But though “Lord” might be his title, the guy was no gentleman.

He seemed to be an adventurer—fond of action.

He didn’t own Jimin, though, and had no right to hold him against his will.

The ship rolled again suddenly, and he grabbed at the desk for balance. It occurred to him then-that they’d set sail, and his eyes moved instinctively to the bunk, and the shuttered window above it.

He moved quickly, mindless of the neatly folded comforter. The window glass was fogged, and he quickly ran his fingers over it.

Already the coastline was growing dim. The buildings were fading into the glow of darkness, becoming like little miniatures in a shop window. The other ships at dock appeared as nothing more than toys.

A haze was over the city. It joined with the misted light and orange color of distant lamps and reminded him of the fire that had burned earlier the same day. It reminded him that his aunt was dead.

The pain was like the honed edge of a blade, twisting deeply within him, cutting away a piece of his heart, of his very existence.

 He would escape Jungkook, and he would get back to the distant family. It was a promise he made to himself, a vow. It was all he could do to hang on to the shreds of his pride—and his life—and to still the misery in his heart.

 And so, he continued to stare as the distance and night swallowed the shore. The pain began to fade like the shoreline, dimmed by exhaustion.

 It was impossible that just one day had held so much.

Impossible that Shin hye was dead, impossible that his fate was in the hands of an arrogant sea lord—whom Jimin had come to know far too well.

 But Jungkook didn’t own Jimin!

And if he thought Jimin would be waiting for him, that he'd allow him to touch again—he was crazy.

A gentle shudder touched him, warm and aching.

Jimin smiled, bitterly, sadly.

The person he’d been was gone. His world of independence had crumbled. But he’d have it again, he promised.

he would have it again…

All he had to do was escape Jeon Jungkook.

 When and where, he didn’t know yet, but he would use his time wisely.

Jimin stared out the window again. There seemed to be nothing but clouds, obscuring all vision of land, even all vision of the seemingly endless sea.

Jimin took a deep, shuddering breath. Tears fell from his eyes in a sudden cascade of loss. They fell, and fell, and fell, and he couldn’t control them.

he shuddered and gave up. Perhaps they’d take away the terrible edge of pain.

I’ll cry tonight, he promised himself, and then I won’t cry anymore.

He realized that he wasn’t afraid anymore.

Not of the sea, not of fire, not of anything. He was just weary. Numbness and exhaustion finally took their toll upon him.

He slipped out of consciousness and into a deep sleep.

Chapter Text

Jungkook

Jungkook slowed his footsteps as he neared his room on the ship. He hesitated, then quietly twisted the key in the lock and silently slid the door inward.

 His steps were silent as he neared the bed, stood still again, looking down at Jimin in the light from the moon.

 Jimin was curled up on the lower section of the bed with no pillow under his head. Watching the other, he thought of how he’d first seen Jimin lying on the bed at the tavern.

Then, he’d been fascinated by the small male.

And still was.

He bent to look closer, and noticed tears had dried on the others soft cheeks. A strange feeling of tenderness washed over him as he watched the soft-hearted boy, how horrible it must've been for him to see someone he loved, murdered so cruelly, and to know that the same thing could’ve happened to him.

Jungkook straightened.

 It was over.

Jimin was in his care now, and he’d have to stay. Jimin was so desperately fighting Jungkook that he couldn’t see the danger.

Jimin didn’t realize that he was being condemned without a trial.

Jungkook couldn’t bring him to his family, because Woo bin would find him there.

He sighed, and treaded the few steps to the desk, where he pulled out the captain’s chair, sat, and stretched his booted legs comfortably over the teak wood corner.

 From the bottom left drawer he pulled out a pint of Caribbean dark whiskey, and drank a long swig, wincing slightly as the potent brew burned down his throat.

Rubbing his temple, he began to think of the future, and of the business that’d brought him into that town. Seemingly, he’d been selling tobacco.

In truth, he’d actually been sent by delegation to hunt out the political climate in the city.

The same lords who’d sent Jungkook had recently sent ambassadors across seas, inviting another crown to invade—and force the current king to abdicate his throne. A catholic king.

The people had tolerated their Catholic monarch, only because they assumed his heir to be his oldest, a staunch Protestant, they weren’t likely to tolerate the possibility of their king leaving the throne to a Catholic.

There was trouble ahead, Jungkook knew.

He knew the king. He knew the man would implement his power, would enrage nobles, as well as the people. Jungkook also knew the catholic king and understood that he was very ambitious and determined.

Jungkook winced slightly.

 There’d been a time when he’d liked the current king. A time when the king had been a bold and brave man, a careful thinker, and a fine admiral. But that wasn’t the case now. The current king had grown older, fanatical—unbending, and sometimes cruel. He’d executed his own nephew... Over the crown.

Jungkook put his head back and drank another long, long drink of the whiskey. The things he’d learned in the tavern that day had been interesting.

He laid his head back, brooding about politics, and then about the ties that bound him to webs spun of pity and honor.

Then he jumped slightly, hearing a rustle from the bed. He’d forgotten the silver haired male, in the gloom of his thoughts.

He smiled and pulled his boots off, sitting them under the desk before stripping methodically, and tossing the clothes over the chair.

 Then Jungkook stood over the fiery male again, debating whether to move him to a more comfortable position or leave him.

It wasn’t surprising that he’d been labeled “spawn of the devil” or “unnatural and evil”—He was incredibly beautiful.

 Even the loveliest ladies and gents were usually flawed in some way, bad teeth perhaps, or scarred by marks,an scars.

Yet this simple young man was nothing less than perfect.

It was easy to believe that less fortunate people might enviously decide that only a pact with the devil could create such beauty.

 But that didn’t matter now.

He’d keep Jimin safe. He was warmed by the thought of the other again. He wanted to touch the spit-fire boy again—and again.

 He wanted Jimin to touch him back.

He wanted to touch Jimin for hours, wanted to make the other squirm under him while begging for more…

His thinking should have surprised him—perhaps even worried him.

He’d never been so captivated by someone and especially not another male.

Even if he personally preferred them. It didn’t mean he acted on it.

But he thought of permanency when he looked at this strange boy. And since he was high-ranking nobility, Jungkook possessed the ego of his rank.

He was a duke. A lord and someone like Jimin would be content being with him. He’d never be without anything. He’d give Jimin anything he wanted within reason. He’d never be hungry or dirty.

Would the fascination last forever? Possibly…

Jimin’s an evil little devil, he thought jokingly with a smile as he looked at the other.

So, exquisite…

Jimin inhaled and exhaled with a slight shuddering sob.

Jungkook bent closer to see he was still asleep. He knelt beside the other male again and unlaced his shoes, then carefully slid the pants from Jimin’s shapely legs, feeling the heat rise again as he performed the simple task.

Still the smaller male didn’t wake up, and he realized how exhausted he must be. The compassion Jungkook felt made him more determined to undress the other for comfort.

So, he worked carefully on removing the dirty shirt, without moving Jimin, then lifting the smaller into his arms to attempt to get the fabric over his head.

The muddied shirt was thrown haphazardly to the floor, making a mental note to purchase some clothing. They’d have to dock somewhere along the coast. He could shop for them then.

Jimin was slumped against Jungkook still, and he tenderly adjusted the weight to remove the others dirty undergarments.

 He could lend something clean to Jimin till they stopped to get new clothes…

It was then- that He woke up-his huge dark eyes reflections of fear in the dimness, his fists instantly flailing against Jungkook.

“I’m not evil! I swear! P-please don’t kill me!!” Jimin cried.

Jimin pounded against Jungkook’s bare chest, causing little harm, but one of the blows caught him in the chin, causing his mouth to bleed where a tooth caught against his inner lip.

Grimacing with a bit of surprise at the extent of the smaller's sudden strength, he secured Jimin’s wrists and held them tight over his head, gently.

“Shh…You’re not evil, and no one’s going to hurt you! Shh…It’s alright...” Jungkook tried to soothe.

The wide, terrified alarm slowly faded from Jimin’s eyes, but he stared.

“You…” He whispered, it sounded slightly angry.

“me,” Jungkook agreed, with a bite to his words.

“Go away, Jungkook.” Jimin ordered with quiet fury.

 Jungkook became keenly aware that Jimin was naked now, and so was he.

 Each gasp for breath causing the slightest movement was a brand of Jimin’s body against his own. To his vast annoyance he found his own resolve faltering, against his will, lust struck him again.

“I’m not doing anything,” he informed irritably, further annoyed by the flickering of smaller's lustrous lashes, which signified all too clearly the knowledge of Jungkook’s arousal.

“I was only making you more comfortable,” he informed, scowling darkly.

“If you want to give me comfort,” Jimin snapped, “leave.”

Jungkook took a perverse pleasure in the slight shake that touched the others voice.

Damn.

“Sorry but this is my room.” He said curtly.

“Oh,” Jimin said. “Well, I’d be happy to leave.”

To Jimin’s surprise he was instantly lifted from beneath Jungkook, and sat on his feet beside the bed.

 Jeon Jungkook surveyed him with lazy interest as he stretched over the bed, lacing his fingers behind his head comfortably.

“My crew will love you,” he told Jimin dryly.

 Jimin stared at him with uncertainty for a moment, but then his anger exploded like cannon. He was instinctively tempted to cover his nakedness, but resisted the foolish temptation to grab the dirty clothes, crumpled at the foot of the bed.

Dignity, pride, He reminded himself firmly. Jeon had taken him by surprise, but now he’s ready to fight for the pride he had left.

“Obviously, Lord Jeon,” Jimin said crisply, “I wasn’t going to rush out there naked.”

Jimin’s voice, so cool, taunted and reproached Jungkook. He was aware that he was losing something.

The small males unwavering criticism gnawed at him. No one ever spoke to him this way.

 For the first time, he was completely at a loss as to how to deal with someone, Confusion ignited his temper, and he was left to fight for control.

Jungkook moved to keep Jimin’s dirty clothes on the floor by placing a foot on them. He smiled with amusement as Jimin inadvertently met his eyes before tugging.

 “I have fifty men, little one. Good men, stout-hearted and brave. But long days at sea make many crave for warmth and companionship. They’re controlled by the appetites of lust. A beautiful form appearing…man or woman, well, I believe you know the likely consequences.” Jungkook mumbled.

 “I won’t cause any trouble,” Jimin told him, but still couldn’t get his clothes. “What can happen- that hasn’t already?!” Jimin demanded with a cry of shame.

Jungkook clamped a hand around his wrist with a painful force that brought Jimin’s eyes instantly clashing with Jungkook’s fierce stare.

“by all means, if my protection is so disgusting, go ahead and leave. My men won’t be blamed…” Jungkook vowed.

“Let go!” Jimin cried. Jungkook smiled slowly—far more bitterly than he wanted Jimin to see.

What’d he done to Jimin? Nothing, except save his fool life.

 Damn, he wanted to stay mad at Jimin, but the more the silver-haired-spit-fire challenged him, the more he wanted the other.

“No—I can’t let you go,” he told Jimin, and was startled when he bit hard on Jungkook’s hand.

 Jungkook grunted in pain, relaxing the hold only to secure Jimin’s chin tightly.

The smaller stared at him defiantly, but a small gasp of pain escaped, and Jungkook eased his touch as soon as he was sure Jimin wouldn’t use teeth again.

 Jimin

Jimin inhaled a long breath and said. “Never think I’m ungrateful to you. I’d give all the money I could if I had it...But since you saved my life, then isn’t it my own again?”

How could Jimin make Jungkook understand?

He wondered a little desperately. There was compassion in the tough Captain, wasn’t there? Jimin took another breath, determined to start over again.

“Jungkook, I’ve been robbed of—” Jimin started.

“Robbed!?” Jungkook’s exclamation was loud enough to shake apart a ship.

“Robbed of your innocence?” His repetition of the word was softer and more deadly.

Jimin found himself swept into Jungkook’s arms, and pushed down on the bed again. The largers grip was then on his shoulders as he braced over Jimin, the darkness of his eyes seeming to shine.

“I’m where I want to be,” Jungkook said in a velvet-soft voice, mimicking both the tone and quality of Jimin’s own, the whisper seeming to caress his cheeks with warmth.

 And then his fingers were winding into Jimin’s hair, just as his had wound into Jungkook’s all those hours earlier.

The touch was soft, caressing, and yet very firm, holding as if in a spell.

Jimin couldn’t have fought the grip anyway, or the shoulders leaning above, or the long, strong leg over his.

 So, he merely stared at the other, wondering just what kind of man had been cast by fate as his unwanted protector. He could feel the tension within the stronger male, and yet it was with control that his gentle hands mocked Jimin with teasing touches.

 A control that so clearly reminded Jimin of all that he’d done earlier that day; his seduction of the other. Yes, he’d played out the role with surprising skill.

“I want you…” Jungkook spoke exactly how Jimin had spoken before, a mockery that was almost agonizing—and very livid.

“I had a reason!” Jimin protested. “Don’t mock me—I didn’t have a choice and you know it!”

His eyes, with their wicked gleam of anger, were still on Jimin, the caress of his fingers, soothing hair and temple now, were still a touch that both lulled and enticed.

The intimacy he so casually demanded was still between them.

Jimin felt it more keenly—the leg, hard-muscled, covering his own, was a brand that burned against him.  

Jimin’s chest felt tight, the peaks hardening, against the warmth of the others chest.

“I …” Jimin began, his voice catching, “Please don’t touch my hair.”

One brow hiked slightly, and the devil gleam in his eyes increased. He obediently removed his fingers from Jimin’s hair, only to rest them on his chest. To Jimin’s horror he exhaled a whimper at the touch.

“Don’t” Jimin whimpered.

“Ahh…that’s right. My touch is disgusting. I learned that this afternoon.” The mockery was like knives against Jimin’s heart.

Jungkook moved his hand slowly, palm and fingers a light massage. His eyes left Jimin’s to move over toned chest, and watch the result of his thumb’s grazing over a nipple.

 Jimin closed his eyes and swallowed, aware that his body was traitorously giving him away. Jeon Jungkook saw the rose hue darken hauntingly, the peak tautened delightfully to his whims.

Jimin opened his eyes to find Jungkook’s eyes daring him to deny his bodies obvious response. He taunted Jimin, Jungkook was clearly still pissed.

“Lord Jeon, I don’t want to be used by you…” Jimin said.

“I see how much you hate it,” he replied, amused.

“You’re ignoring everything I’m saying,” He reminded the larger.

“Because it doesn’t make sense. When I touch you—” Jungkook started.

“I can’t fight you physically!” Jimin snapped, and then he closed his eyes and laid still. “I’d lose,” he said tonelessly.

Unintentionally Jimin moistened his lips, and that gesture was an invitation Jungkook couldn’t refuse. He moved his lips to Jimin’s, barely touching.

“What’s done, is done, little one. I’m angry and so you’ve sealed your own fate…” Jungkook growled.

His whisper died on Jimin’s mouth as lips finally touched fully, coaxing Jimin’s acceptance with the swiftness the assault.

Jungkook’s tongue delved deeply, seeking the sweet crevices of his mouth. Jimin tried to twist from him but the other held him still.

He pounded against Jungkook but the larger caught his arms.

 Jimin’s protests became soft moans, his lips began to move against the feeling. He arched slightly, with instinct. Jimin felt the powerful muscles of Jungkook’s shoulders.

Even as he desperately tried to hold on to the will to fight, he knew Jungkook was unlike anything he’d ever known. He held a physical fascination for Jimin that wove a magic spell.  

There was something about the largers stronger masculinity, that beckoned a response as if Jimin had been destined for this stranger’s arms.

 Where Jimin was small and lean, Jungkook was strong and broad. Their bodies entwined as if crafted by an artist.

No, He thought with horror. He was giving in!

But then Jungkook moved away—and smiled amusingly, and grimly.

“Forgive me, little one,” he murmured, and moved away from Jimin so that their bodies weren’t touching anymore.

 “Seeing how you hate my touch, I will fight the temptation of your sinful lips and dark eyes. I’ll try to remember that in the future.” Jungkook drawled.

Jimin was glad for the dimness of the room as he felt the blood rush to his face. But it didn’t matter, Jungkook was turning away, his body language was nonchalant dismissal.

“What future?” Jimin demanded heatedly. “You have no right to keep me! I have a place to go—”

He turned back, angry and impatient.

 “You can’t go anywhere, Jimin! Not safely. If I sit you on shore, Woo bin would find you. You can keep your damn stubborn attitude, but even if I docked tonight, I couldn’t let you off this ship!” Jungkook snapped.

Jimin’s eyes fell from the others.

 Holy shit.

 Jungkook intended to keep him there. He just didn’t understand that Jimin can hide, can move quickly—can take care of himself.

When would Jimin manage to escape him? he shivered suddenly. How much would he endure? he was nothing but a toy to Jungkook—a toy he’d just played.

Jimin angrily forced himself to lay rigid. Jungkook was too close, he must make sure that he doesn’t touch him in the night.

Jimin curled closer to the teak wood planking that edged the bed, silently hurling every imaginable curse in his head. He wished he could pull the pillow from beneath the bastards’ head and rip out handfuls of his dark hair.

But it would be stupid to attempt because Jimin would only receive another lesson from the largers hands.

I will escape you, Jeon Jungkook...Jimin promised himself in silence.

They’d have to stop, and when they did, he would find his chance. Jimin had a little money in the pocket of his pants.

 He’d get away from this man who’d claimed Jimin as casually as he would a new coat, to cast aside at his whim and leisure.

Sleep—He needed sleep. And though sleep eluded for a time, it eventually brought release.

Jimin saw Jungkook’s eyes as he slept. Deep brown, devil-dark. Narrowing angrily, glittering with sensual amusement. The planes of his face, the full line of his mouth, and the handsome slash of white teeth against the cream skin.

The arch of his jet brows.

He wouldn’t even leave Jimin’s dreams.

Jimin woke up with a start of panic to a knock on the door.

Then he realized that Jeon Jungkook would never knock on his own door.

he was swathed in the blanket, but didn’t want anyone to see him—in the captain’s bed.

 He shrugged and lifted his chin—there wasn’t any reason to be afraid. He was a man, Small but still a man.

“Yes?” He queried softly.

“It’s just me—Taehyung. Captain asked that I bring something clean to wear.” Taehyung said.

 “Uh—come in—and thank you,” Jimin responded.

 Jimin tried to hide his astonishment at the wardrobe carried in. Taehyung laid out a pile of fine silk shirts, some trimmed with delicate laces, some with velvet. Taehyung, after spreading the rich clothing out, turned back, and noticed the surprise on his features.

“Uh … an old friend of the captains used to live on the ship, I doubt he’ll be needing these again.” Taehyung said.

Jimin kept silent to hide his emotions from Taehyung.

jungkook was the one who’d wronged him. His dark lashes swept his cheeks, and then he faced Taehyung with a slight smile.

 “Thank you, Taehyung.” He said kindly.

Taehyung had spent his life serving the Jeons, being Jungkook's closest friend, and sailing the seas. He was as tough as sea salt—a far cry from a courtly gallant. But when Jimin spoke, he felt a gentling toward the other, even though Jimin seemed like nothing but trouble.

“’Twas nothing,” he promised.

There was a slight sound at the door, and both Jimin and Taehyung looked that way, startled.

Jungkook stood in the doorway. Jimin stiffened, expecting some form of ridicule at the exchange.

But his expression was unreadable.

  “I see Tae gave you the clean clothes. I’ll give you time to get dressed, and return with food.” Jungkook drawled.

He left the door open behind him. Taehyung shuffled his feet awkwardly, and then backed toward it, pausing only to grab up the wet pile of Jimin’s soaked things.

“Good day…Jimin” Taehyung mumbled.

“Good day,” Jimin murmured.

He left with a bit of a grimace, and Jimin closed the door behind him. When he was alone he glanced at the pile of luxurious clothing across the chair.

The shirts and pants were stunning—far better than anything he’d ever owned.

What would Jimin’s fate be when Jeon grew bored? Would he be thrown away like nothing?

 Jimin wanted to beat Jungkook.

 The arrogance of the larger man, Jungkook wouldn’t throw him away- because Jimin would never be his to throw.

Jimin paused for a minute.

Had last night meant that Jungkook planned to respect Jimin’s plea?

A shiver first cold, and then warm, touched his spine. Or was he baiting, taunting, playing with Jimin, as a cat would a mouse?

All he had to do was fight to maintain a remote distance from Jungkook—until they docked somewhere. Then he could disappear.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to be grateful to Jungkook.

Without fail he had the ability to make Jimin completely lose all control of his temper.

Jimin chose the simplest of the shirts, a deep-blue, along with black pants and dressed quickly. It was a bit loose, and a bit long, but the fit was far better than he expected.

Jimin closed his eyes, remembering how Taehyung had picked up the bundle of dirty clothing when he’d left the room.

Jimin’s clothing, the money—the means for escape were gone.

Chapter Text

 Jimin

Jimin raced stupidly to the spot where the clothing had been. How could he let this happen?

“No…” he hissed. And then he screamed the word, stomping his foot down furiously.

Panic and anger filled him.

 He’d earned that money, he had to get the money back, because it was the only way he had to escape Jeon Jungkook.

“Damn!” Jimin emitted in a furious wail, and his temper took complete control in a moment of ridiculousness.

He swirled and lifted the new clothing, kicked and tossed it furiously.

In his childish fit of rage, he didn’t hear the door when it opened.

He raised his eyes to the door and saw Jungkook standing there, holding a tray, and watching with curious amusement.

“What’s your problem now?” the taller asked.

 Jimin froze, staring warily while he warned himself to take as much care with the situation as he could.

“My—my things are gone. I want them back,” Jimin told him.

He shrugged. “When they’re dry and clean, they’ll be returned.” He took a step into the room, closing the door. “What did you want with them? They’re rags now.”

“Sentimental attachment,” Jimin told him coolly.

“okay…” The other muttered.

As he walked past, Jimin inhaled a delicious aroma that reminded him, he was starving.

Jungkook paused for a moment, his eyes sweeping the scene—the clothes on his floor, and the rebellious defiance in the eyes that rose to his.

 He successfully hid a smile as he walked to the desk and sat the tray down.

“Jimin?” he asked.

“Yes?” the smaller looked up again.

Jungkook smiled, and for a moment Jimin could feel some of their attraction crackle in the air. But then it was dashed as he said, “You won’t get the money back.”

Jimin’s smile faded; open hostility filled his eyes and he stepped away furiously.

“Why not? It’s mine—I earned it!” He snapped, bitterly.

Jungkook laughed, walking toward the cabin door, then turning back and grinning as he leaned idly against the wall.

 “I’m not sure you earned it. I hired someone for pleasure, I don’t remember you going out of your way to be a giver.” Jungkook drawled.

Well that definitely hurt Jimin’s pride…ouch.

The taunt was like blazing iron. Without thought or reason Jimin stomped across the room, determined to hit the bastard for real this time.

Jimin at least forced Jungkook’s smirk to fade.

But that was all.

The problems were boiling over again.

Jimin’s wrists were quickly secured behind his back, and he found himself pressed hard against the larger male’s chest.

“When will you learn!” Jungkook exploded harshly. “I care, you little idiot!”

“My life is mine!” Jimin cried out in protest. “I’m not stupid! I can find shelter. I can remain hidden.”

This same argument seemed to be a reoccurrence whenever they got into a fight…

The larger shook his head, sadly, his anger fading.

“I’m not known for patience,” he told Jimin quietly. “Don’t keep challenging me.”

Jimin lowered his head. “Let me go,” He said dully.

 Jungkook released, stepping back. None of the tension left his strong features, but when he spoke, it was with patience anyway.

“Jimin what happened can’t be erased. I can’t give back your old life. I didn’t force anything from you, and I won’t. you’re going to stay in this room, because it’s not safe on deck without me—and I’m too busy to worry constantly. You must sleep in my bed, there’s nowhere else safe to sleep. Whether you like it or not, you’ve become my responsibility—.” Jungkook said evenly, but with an edge that made jimin bristle.

“You’re a lying asshole!” Jimin charged hotly. “What about the other young guys on the ship?! they can go anywhere! Like Taehyung!”

There was a furious tick of a pulse against Jungkook’s throat, yet he kept in deathly calm control.

“Taehyung is almost twice your size. He’s also been on this ship, as my closest friend, for years. I don’t even think there’s anyone near your small size...” Jungkook said.

“I don’t believe you.” Jimin huffed.

“And I don’t give a damn what you believe! This is my ship, I’m the captain, and you will follow my orders. Do you understand?” Jungkook growled out.

“Oh, I understand,” Jimin replied bitterly.

“Make sure you do,” the taller warned in a chilling whisper.

Jimin lifted his chin and spoke softly. “How long will we be at sea, Lord Jeon?” He said it with as much formality and snide as possible.

The other shrugged. “Three to four weeks, depending on the weather.”

“And I can’t leave this room the whole time?” Jimin questioned.

Jungkook sighed. “I’ll take you on the deck each afternoon. But you’ll have to find a way to entertain yourself most of the day. The panel behind the bed slips open, and there’s books. Do you read?”

 At Jimin’s nod he continued.

“if you know how to sew, and don’t mind, there’s some shirts in the wardrobe that could use it…” Jungkook suggested.

Jimin didn’t reply. Jungkook noticed the smaller male stood very straight, but that the sweep of his lashes hid the angry flames of his eyes. 

“Good afternoon,” Jungkook tauntingly sweeping a very proper bow—and allowing a wicked grin to filter across his lips during it.

As he closed the door behind him, Jimin was tempted to throw something.

The days they sailed south on the Sea were long ones.

Jungkook didn’t come to the room until late at night, and when he did, Jimin faked sleep. He’d found a long shirt in the clothing given by Taehyung, and he wore it every night.

Jungkook consistently stripped without a shade of self-consciousness before stretching beside Jimin. But he didn’t touch Jimin. Not once. And it seemed that Jungkook would fall asleep as soon as his head hit pillow.

The asshole-captain was always gone when Jimin woke up, but he returned to the room to eat. He spoke very politely sometimes, like what’d happened when they’d met was just a dream. Or nightmare…

In the afternoon, Jungkook would walk with Jimin around the ship. Within those days he’d learned a great deal about the Ship. Jungkook had showed him the cargo holds and where the guns were placed.

Jimin learned the names of the numerous sails, and he met the pirate crew one by one. They ranged in age from young to older, and just as widely in social standing. Younger sons from noble families sought fortune at sea, just like strapping sons of commoners.

 Some were rough and quarrelsome, some were quiet.

but they all seemed to share one common thing—an intense loyalty to Lord Jeon Jungkook. Jimin could see their respect for the Captain.

 Yet he often winced when they passed a group of the sailors, because Jimin could feel the gazes rake over his body. They knew that Jimin slept in the captain’s room—assumed Jimin to be “his”—and perhaps envied him.

Jimin had seen Jungkook roar out orders with the severity of a fire-breathing dragon, he’d also learned that service was rewarded, double portions of alcohol were given out each time the crew brought the Ship through a storm or hard area.

Although Jimin came to know the ship and the men, it was all for show. The promise of escape was the hope that he clung to.

Every day he plotted escape, how to slip the lock if he could, which hallways to take, where to dive from the ship if he had to.

Jimin woke slowly one morning to realize that he was becoming familiar to the sound of the sea—the wind as it whistled through the rigging, the waves as they lapped and crashed against ship.

And as Jimin closed his eyes again to hear the gentle sounds of morning, and close out the sunlight streaming into the room, He realized unhappily, that he was also becoming adapted to Jeon Jungkook…

Although the infuriating Captain was distant, as if his mind were far from Jimin, the life on ship had assumed a certain domesticity.

Boredom was beginning to annoy Jimin, and bit by bit he’d started to keep the room neat, He’d even mended the shirts.

Often they shared meals. And every night Jimin waited for Jungkook.

Waited to feel the heat as he slid his longer form beside Jimin. He always smelled so cleanly of salt air and the sea, exuded a masculine strength, and despite himself, he longed to curl against the larger, to be held, to touch.

It was agony to have to avoid Jungkook sometimes, because it was the most human interaction he had.

 Sometimes, on the lonelier days, Jimin wished that Jungkook would slip an arm around him, stroke his silver hair again…

Jimin couldn’t deny that he was falling beneath the Captain’s spell. Perhaps, more than he’d like to admit.

Jeon Jungkook was a lord, and a man as fiercely independent as Jimin wanted to be. He forced himself to remember that he had to keep distance from the larger male—and escape him as soon as possible.

Jimin didn’t even trust himself with the arrogant young Captain. he grew worried that if he didn’t cling to hate and anger, Jungkook would steal his heart.

Chapter Text

 Jungkook’s temper had been getting worse lately. during the endless days, until his control over it was almost nonexistent.

He’d been polite, he’d been reserved. He’d escorted the smaller boy without complaining. He’d been certain that Jimin would begin to bend—and then give in. They lived together, damn it!

But Jimin didn’t submit—or give in.

He knew the other male was awake—when he entered the room at night—and each time he heard a relieved sigh when Jimin assumed he was asleep, he wanted to pounce on the beautiful boy like a tiger.

But he couldn’t. As he laid there, unable to reach out, feeling the light sound of Jimin’s breath, the others body so close.

Jungkook’s muscles would constrict, sweat would break out and he’d remember Jimin so vividly that he would bite into his lip until he drew blood to keep from groaning out-loud.

Finally, he’d manage to fall asleep.

Their constant arguments—for the most part—had decreased.

Jimin had stopped fighting against Jungkook’s every sentence. The silver haired spit-fire kept a cool distance, answering every question, speaking civilly, even cleaning Jungkook’s clothing and room.

 And yet the strange boy was more untouchable than a king.

It seemed that something simmered beneath the surface, a brooding mood that seemed destined to erupt.

“Damn that little devil…” Jungkook muttered, staring at the nearing coast.

The sun was shining and everything that surrounded him, the fresh sea air, the warmth, the sound of the waves, was beautiful.

 But the beauty of the day did nothing for his mood, and he sighed. He had been avoiding his own cabin and Jimin all day.

“Taehyung—take the wheel!” Jungkook called out.

“Aye, Cap’n!” Taehyung returned, hurrying from a task at the rigging to take Jungkook’s place.

Jungkook felt that his best friend was amused as he stared for a moment—which further peeved him.

He paused before ducking down the steps that led to his room. Tomorrow, he decided, they could dock, where the ship could get minor repairs and fresh supplies.

He hesitated before his door, about to knock. Annoyed, he reminded himself that it was his room, the captain’s, and twisting the knob, he entered.

He found Jimin still in a long shirt, reading by the light from the window. Jungkook entered.

slowly, felt tension creep over him.

Jimin’s hair was slightly messy on the pillows, the strange silver-ish color that’d probably helped seal his fate as ‘evil’ by the finder.

The perfection of his features were enhanced by the strange colored hair.

Jimin’s skin looked so smooth…

The shirt he wore was also falling off one shoulder dangerously.

 Jimin didn’t even noticed him, Jungkook thought with annoyance—the smaller was involved in the book. And the room was a mess, Clothes here and there, the bed tousled with the smaller still in it…

“little one,” Jungkook gritted irritably, ripping the bed coverings, “it’s almost lunchtime and you should be out of bed or at least dressed!”

Jimin’s eyes, wide, and startled, met his.

Jungkook turned around quickly, determined for the other to not realize he was angry.

“When someone is being held prisoner within a room,” Jimin responded calmly and quietly, “it doesn’t seem to matter when the day starts…”

Jungkook sat behind his desk, and finally brought his eyes to the other males.

 “You’re not a prisoner, Jimin, just a well-watched guest.”

He'd wanted to piss the other off, to get some reaction from Jimin.

But when he was met by a dark gaze of boredom, it was annoyingly cold.

“Lord Jeon, Perhaps, you could be kind enough to leave the room while I get dressed.”

 Jungkook rested one booted leg over the edge of his desk, and then the other over that, leaning comfortably in the chair with brows arched high in disapproval.

“I’m not leaving my room. What’s the big deal? We’re both men. It’s nothing I haven’t seen already.” Jungkook smirked. This was bound to make Jimin angry.

He expected to see aggravation, But Jimin only shrugged, as if Jungkook were just an annoyance and nothing more.

The small male got off the bed, turned his back to Jungkook, and as he did, the daylight clearly showed every curve of the others body through the shirt.

 Jimin moved to the wardrobe and chose an outfit, and with graceful dignity took off the long shirt. Ignoring Jungkook’s stare.

  Jungkook was given the perfect view of the others bare back, the gentle curve of his spine leading to the dip and swell of a full ass. Nothing short of sinful.

Jungkook couldn’t see the smirk that tinged Jimin’s lips, or the mischief that the other male felt.

Jimin was bored, and tired of behaving.

There was only one more day at sea. Jimin had seen how close they were to the coast and heard the sailors talk about the port.

 Jimin decided, quite abruptly, that it was time for Jungkook to suffer.

He’d done well, maintaining a polite, very remote distance from the irritating Captain.

 Today, since Jimin planned to escape the other for good soon, he was determined to play his own game—one that would thoroughly haunt Jeon Jungkook, and leave him as miserable as Jimin had been being a prisoner.

Jungkook’s feet suddenly hit the floor with a thud, and he stood and paced the small confines of the room as he finally spoke, “are you done yet?”

“almost,” Jimin replied sweetly, securing the last of the shirts buttons and turning to face the taller.

“I haven’t eaten all day, Jimin. If you want food, come on, now.” Jungkook growled out.

Jimin was startled by the freedom offered, and moved towards Jungkook quickly. But where he usually avoided touching him, Jimin didn’t bother being careful, passing so that his arm brushed Jungkook’s, turning in apology with innocent eyes.

“Excuse me,” He crooned, and continued down the hall, bowing his head as he hid a smile.

He clearly heard the grating of the larger male’s teeth as he'd passed.

Jimin’s smile faded when Jungkook gripped his elbow roughly, jerking him around. The scowl that tightened his features made a shiver ripple through Jimin.

 He knew he was playing a dangerous game.

 Jimin felt reckless, ready to explode, and he couldn’t help himself.

“Since it’s my ship, and I’m the one who knows where the kitchen is, I think I should lead. Hmm?” Jungkook gritted out.

Jimin offered a dazzling smile.

“Forgive me, Captain,” He purred, moving his elbow from the others grip, and slipping the arm through his.

“The thought of leaving the room made me excited. Please lead, Captain.” Jimin cocked his head to the side cutely.

Jimin’s sweetness left Jungkook wondering what the other male was planning, and it didn’t help his temper. Or Jimin’s pleasant proximity.

 How could the other male’s hair smell faintly like flowers?  

And he thought dryly-that Jimin had coaxed Taehyung into friendship somehow.

Apparently, Taehyung had been supplying a tub of hot water for baths every day, and the best soaps on the ship.

Little devil.

The hall was narrow until they reached the deck, and Jimin was pressed against him. The shirt he’d chosen displayed a mouthwatering view of collar bone as they walked.

Moving toward the kitchen did little to ease his irritation, the men stopped their tasks to salute him, and bow to Jimin with deep smiles.

He saw wistfulness and envy—and hunger—in their eyes.

Jimin smiled in return, replying sweetly to their good-afternoons.

He wanted to slap the beautiful boy.

“You’re rather charming today, aren’t you?” He asked suspiciously.

“Am I?” Jimin blinked.

“More than usual.” Jungkook glared.

“Sorry, it’s hard to be charming when you use prison tactics on me. Today, Lord Jeon, I’m trying to be more like the adult man that I am.” Jimin countered.

Jungkook laughed. “I don’t believe you’d stop holding a grudge that easily. But we’ll see, won’t we?”

Jungkook had never brought Jimin to the kitchen before. He was surprised by the sophistication of the crew’s dining on a ship designed for cargo and speed—and warfare.

 The cook, seemed as startled to see Jimin as he was being there, and he prepared a plate of fish dressed in herbs ringed by lemon rinds.

Jungkook led Jimin to a table and sat across from him, eating his own meal.

 The Captain didn’t speak, but Jimin felt his eyes as he ate, and so he looked at the other curiously.

 “How do you know the royal families?” Jimin suddenly asked.

Jungkook hesitated for a moment, then shrugged.

“My father was a friend to the previous king. Sons are often sent from their homes to be tutored in other households. I spent a great deal of time with the royal families at court.”

“And yet you turn from his brother,” Jimin said softly.

“I have my reasons.” Jungkook defended. Jimin touched his hand where it laid on the table.

“There’s something in your voice that goes beyond petty politics,” Jimin whispered. “Did the heir do something wrong towards you?”

“No…” Jungkook replied slowly. His eyes were on Jimin’s much smaller fingers as they rested lightly on the back of his hand.

 The other males hand was very small, and seemed very delicate. Jungkook twisted his hand so that their palms met, his engulfing Jimin’s, and he rubbed his thumb along the fingers—and to the center of the others palm.

“he didn’t do anything to me. But he did to the previous king after his death. He killed another family member”

Jimin frowned, more curious than ever, but distracted by the simple touch that made his blood grow warm. “You knew him well?”

“Very well.” Jungkook stated.

“Oh,” Jimin muttered, absurdly longing to smooth the frown from his brow.

 “Jungkook,” he reminded quietly, “that man was a bastard—a fake. He fought against the true heirs, declaring himself the King. It was treason.”

The larger males touch stopped and he stood tersely.

“I should return you to the room…” Jungkook said curtly.

“But I’m not done.” Jimin mumbled with slight annoyance.

“Then you should’ve eaten instead of talk about things you know nothing about.” Jungkook said rudely.

 Jimin bristled.

Just because he was a small and supposedly ‘beautiful’ man…didn’t mean he was stupid, or delicate.

He was hurt and furious, but controlled his temper.

 Obviously, Jungkook had cared about the man who’d been killed—but refused to say anything else.

Did Jimin mean nothing to Jungkook? Did he not even think of Jimin as a friend at least?  He was quite talented at hurting Jimin, but he was learning he had his own weapons to wield.

 Jeon Jungkook, Jimin fumed silently, you’ll learn what its like to hurt.

Jimin planned to be sweet and Jungkook would be caught off guard when he escaped.

 He stood, keeping his eyes down, and when Jungkook came around the table, he followed. Jimin thanked the cook, and when they crossed the deck, he was careful not to speak to the men, but equally careful to give them all brilliant smiles.

Holding lightly to Jungkook’s arm, He felt each ripple of muscle beneath his shirt, the leashed power—and Jimin felt the tension.

In the hall, Jimin accidently swayed close, gaining satisfaction and a sense of power with the knowledge that he had an effect on the other man.

 The dark eyes on Jimin were hard and intense, and his mouth was pressed in a line.

He couldn’t understand the spit-fire male’s sudden humble obedience, but how could he be mad?

 Jimin almost laughed when they entered the room. But he didn’t dare.

  “Thank you, Captain Jeon, for letting me out for a bit.” Jimin said kindly.

 Jungkook barely replied before the door slammed shut, and then Jimin finally busted into laughter.

Jimin had discovered he could play the game—and the desire to win was strong.

 But as the day went by, his excitement dulled with resentment. It was boring, and Jungkook didn’t reappear. Jimin had run out of shirts to fix, the room was spotless, and he couldn’t seem to enjoy a book.

Nighttime came and Taehyung brought water for a bath. He tried to speak with Jimin cheerfully, but it didn’t help his mood.

“Taehyung,” Jimin demanded, “whose clothes were these?”

The tall pirate hesitated uncomfortably. “I told you, an old friend to the cap’n.”

“His ex-lover, you mean. Or perhaps still a lover?” Jimin ventured.

“Nah,” Taehyung muttered, “he won’t be seeing that old friend again.”

“Why weren’t the things in his room?” Jimin pried.

Taehyung’s startled eyes met his. He chuckled.

“The captain broke off the relationship. The things weren’t in this room, because he’s never shared his room before, I’m going to get back to work, enjoy your privacy.” Taehyung said sweetly.

Jimin mulled over the knowledge once he’d left, wondering why it made him smile.

Then he reminded himself it didn’t matter.

Tomorrow He'd be free.

He’d find his distant family—and once again know what it was like to love and be loved in return.

 The family he’d lived with once, would want him, and welcome him lovingly.

Right?

Jimin stayed in his bath until the water got cold and he worried Taehyung would return. He’d barely dried and got dressed again when he did, and Jimin thanked him sweetly.

When Taehyung left he combed his hair to a glossy shine and waited for Jungkook once again.

But he didn’t come, and as Jimin’s agitation and hunger grew, his temper climbed.

He’d barely been allowed finish lunch and now it appeared that Jungkook was too busy to give him dinner.

For another half hour, Jimin paced the room, cursing profoundly under his breath.

Then he decided that meekness be damned.

 He was still a man dammit!

He knew the location of the kitchen, and he’d befriended the cook. If Jungkook got angry that he'd left the room, even better.

Fuck his bad temper to hell and back.

The cook frowned his disapproval when he saw jimin alone, but he prepared a plate with special favor once again.

 Jimin was standing, waiting for his meal, when a young seaman who he’d spoken to before approached.

“Jimin, you shouldn’t be here alone. The captain would be furious, and it’s dangerous.” He warned.

Jimin smiled. “The Captain is busy And I’m hungry.”

“You shouldn’t go around alone though...” The nice male mumbled.

“if you’re so worried. Then maybe, you could guard me?” Jimin asked. He didn’t need protection, but the other man seemed committed to it.

The man flushed, but then took Jimin’s plate from the cook with a nod and led him toward the back of the dining room, as far as possible from the other crew members.

“Tell me”—Jimin thought furiously to remember the guy’s name— “Sehun, where’re you from?”

“The north country,” he said pleasantly. “I’m the third son, So not in line for much of an inheritance.”

“Ahh,” Jimin mused with understanding, chewing a morsel of food before speaking again. Dinner was fish again, but he was so hungry he didn’t care. Also, it was nice to be in the company of someone who was nice to talk to.

“don’t worry too much,” Jimin told him. “You seem bright and able. I’m sure you’ll make your own way in the world.”

 Sehun beamed at the words.

“Thank you, being a younger son has its advantages. It gives certain freedoms. I can work where I want, love whoever I want. My brother must make a marriage beneficial to the family, while I…”

His blush became very dark. He stuttered for a moment, and then began to speak once more.

 “If you ever find yourself alone, Jimin, I’d be honored to have you.”

 Jimin was both stunned—and ashamed at the implication. If the captain got tired of him and abandoned Jimin, he would be there…

“Thank you,” He managed to choke out, but before the awkward conversation could continue, they’re interrupted.

“—what's going on here?”

The stranger, a dark-eyed foreigner, stood behind Sehun’s shoulder. He was close to 30, Jimin assumed, but still in his prime and confident with himself.

He smelled faintly of alcohol, and the gaze that he gave Jimin made him uncomfortable.

“I’m escorting the captain’s guest while he has dinner,” Sehun mumbled swiftly.

“That’s not your job. Get on deck, Sehun, the winds are shifting.” The man ordered.

“I’ll take Jimin back to the Captains room.” Sehun looked uncomfortable as well- causing Jimin to stiffen.

“You don’t have to, I’ll do it.” The older man said gruffly as if he was doing Sehun a favor.

“You don’t have the rank.” Sehun tried to defend.

“I outrank you.” The foreigner grumbled.

“Look!” someone drunkenly yelled. “They’re fighting over the captain’s little toy!”

 Jimin paled, but the shock had just started. Young Sehun was suddenly on his feet, launching himself across the room to find the speaker.

 Shouts echoed out all over, until the room was in chaos.

The dining area had turned into a fight, a discordance of grunts, curses, and flying fists.

Jimin leapt to his feet in fear as a man came flying across the room, crashing into the table. He gazed up with a drunken smile, and then shot like a cannon back into the brawl.

 “I’d brave the plank for a touch of that beauty,” someone yelled, and Jimin wondered briefly if he’d ever be able to pick up his crushed pride.

 He was a man!

 It didn’t matter if he was feminine looking or supposedly beautiful! He wasn’t an object!

Chairs, plates, and tankards flew.

 “Stop acting like he’s a whore!” Sehun raged, and others joined his bellow.

 “Let me check!” The drunk words came wrapped in shameless giggles, which ended in a loud smack and a groan.

Jimin’s effort to upset Jungkook had created a disaster, and he realized that the wisest course of action would be to disappear—in case the winners of the fight included the man who would- walk the plank for a chance with the captain’s “toy.”

Jimin turned to run, but as he did, he crashed into something that felt more secure than the ship walls. Something, however, that radiated heat and steel-strength.

A man’s chest, in light-blue silk.

 Jimin looked up to his face just as a pistol was fired into the ceiling—silencing the crowd into instant soberness and stillness.

Jungkook wasn’t looking at Jimin.

 He was staring with rage at the scene before him—his men bloodied from the fighting, the room messy. His eyes burnt scarily with fire.

Jimin had seen Jungkook angry, but not like this.

 For a moment, Jimin was ready to creep to the floor and crawl away to avoid him.

 But it wasn’t his fault!

He’d just been hungry, and Jungkook had ignored him all day.

“I understand,” Jungkook said coldly, hands on his hips, legs spread and feet firmly upon the ground.

“that it’s easy to fight at sea. I’ll consider the fact that you may’ve had certain encouragement.” At this point he glanced briefly at Jimin.

 Jimin wanted to slap the bastard.

  There was nothing but a intense venom in the gaze he gave Jimin, cold and contained.

He didn’t defend, he accused.

“But you have jobs to do. Clean up this mess and report back to duty. If the people who started this do not report to me, you’ll all be on half rations until we reach the other side of the damned sea.” Jungkook roared.

Sehun stepped up to Jungkook immediately.

He was trembling, but he stood with dignity. “I started the actual fighting, Captain,” he said.

“I suppose I don’t have to ask why,” Jungkook said dryly, and again his deadly gaze flicked to Jimin, who had no choice but to stay frozen.

“A night in the brig,” he said dismissively. He turned around to speak and Jimin saw Taehyung following behind him.

Jimin had been listening—but was taken completely off guard when Jungkook’s large hand clamped on his shoulder and wrenched him towards the door.

Chapter Text

 Jimin

 Jimin tried to stay calm, to tell the larger male just what he thought of the treatment. It was impossible to say in a calm way…

“Jeon Jungkook, you dick! You’re hurting me…let go…” Jimin tried to pull away.

“Hurting you!?” Jungkook exploded.

 “I’d like to spank you black-and-blue. You were told not to leave the room alone. You deliberately disobeyed, and thanks to you, half my crew will spend the week limping!” Jungkook yelled. They reached the room, but even when the door slammed the larger male didn’t let go.

“Disobey you?! I don’t have to obey you!” Jimin objected heatedly.

 “I was starving, and since you were too busy to care, I went to eat by myself.” Jimin glared.

“Did you promise that boy special favors to defend you?” Jungkook sneered.

Jimin lost his cool.

Jimin broke the tallers grip and turned around angrily, raking his nails furiously over the largers face.

 “Noble bastard!” Jimin hissed, too incensed to care that he was adding fuel to Jungkook’s fury. “Sehun shouldn’t have had to defend me! It’s because of you that I was called ‘whore’ and ‘the captain’s toy.’ Because I’m forced to sleep in your room!”

“You little…” Jungkook growled low, and it scared Jimin.

 The larger male went still, bringing his hand to the scratches on his face.

 “If you weren’t with me, they’d have their fun with you. But toy isn’t the word I’d have used. Slut is more appropriate for someone who enjoys taunting” Jungkook said angrily as he took a threatening step toward Jimin.

 Fuck.

“Slut!” He hissed venomously as Jimin backed away, closer to the desk.

“That’s laughable, Captain Jeon, I don’t offer anyone favors…even if I want it.”

“So you’ve been ignored, is that it?”  Jungkook speaking quietly didn’t fool him.

His steps were calm as he stalked toward Jimin.

 Jimin’s heart beat erratically, he felt tension leaping and crackling like lightning, and fury that was as explosive as a bomb.

“Is that it, my sweet innocent devil? You taunted my men to blows because you were being ignored? It’s amazing how a male seduced them all.”

“I didn’t!” Jimin argued with desperation as he moved behind the desk.

They faced each over the desk, but then Jungkook began stealthy walking again, and Jimin was forced to continue his defense. “Sehun was just being nice, and—”

“How many times did you run a hand through your hair? How many times did you give him a perfect smile?” Jungkook taunted.

“No! you're wrong!” Jimin yelled in frustration. Jungkook was moving toward him again.

In desperation, he grabbed a book from the desk and threw it.

 It grazed off the larger male’s shoulder, and Jimin shivered as he saw the others eyes narrow.

Holy shit.

“I didn’t do anything dammit!” Jimin cried.

“No? I think you’ve done a lot. Just this morning, my little devil, you stripped in such a…tempting way.” Jungkook stated and Jimin blushed.

“You wouldn’t leave.” Jimin defended.

“yes, and it was quite a show…” Jungkook’s dark eyes darkened.

The larger male was staring at him, eyes cold and challenging.

“Don’t come any closer!” Jimin warned, and nervously continued. “I demand—”

“You demand?” Jungkook cut him off with a clenched jaw.

“Yes!” Jimin snapped.

Jungkook smirked. “You demand, Jimin?” he repeated softly, brows arching as he rounded the desk, and grabbed Jimin quickly.

“No!” Jimin shrieked in panic. He kicked and bit at the larger, but Jungkook held his shoulders, and jerked him so that he was forced to look the taller in the eyes.

 “Oh, I’d spank you, cure you of that scratching and biting. But you’ve been demanding all day—I won’t ignore you anymore...”

Jungkook’s fingers sank into the hair at the nape of Jimin’s neck as his mouth met Jimin’s.

 Jimin pushed his hands against the largers chest, Warmth filled him, but he fought it, he couldn’t lose.

“No!” With desperate effort, Jimin twisted his head away, gasping for breath, praying for strength.

Jungkook didn’t let go, but his grip eased and he pulled Jimin to his chest, where he could hear the rampant beating of the taller male’s heart.

“I’ve tried,” Jungkook whispered. “I’ve tried so hard to resist you…”

 Jimin tilted his head to meet Jungkook’s dark eyes, wanting to tell the other it’d hurt to be called a slut, a toy, but as he gazed into Jungkook’s eyes, he could see anger, and couldn’t speak.

Jimin simply shook his head.

He’d won, he thought bitterly.

Jimin had won the game. Jungkook wanted him—the other wanted to strangle him—but he still wanted Jimin.

The victory was bitter. Jimin stood on his toes and kissed him, meaning it to be an apology since he couldn’t speak.

He wasn’t trying to be a tease. He didn’t realize the effect of the simple kiss, or think of the danger when Jungkook lifted him and moved to the bed.

 Jimin kept whispering Jungkook’s name. trying to apologize.

The larger didn’t make a sound but Jimin suddenly heard his shirt rip under Jungkook’s impatient hands. Apology instantly faded from Jimin’s mind.

“Wait!” Jimin attempted to get out of the strong hold.

 “Jimin, stop playing with me, this is a challenge you’ll lose.” Jungkook growled.

 Jimin stared, stunned—and then gasped as the other male started stripping with a ruthless determination.

 Jimin began scrambling for his torn clothes. Jungkook’s boots hit the floor, then his shirt, and Jimin bit his lip with worry.

He fumbled to his knees on the mattress, pulling his ripped shirt over himself, but jungkook blocked him. And when Jimin tried to get off the bed, Jungkook pushed him back.

“Jungkook—wait—I didn’t mean … don’t you dare—” Jimin panted.

“little one,” he murmured, pinning Jimin’s wrists above his head before leaning in, “I’ll do what I want. I’m done holding back. Even the strongest people have a breaking point. This is mine.”

 Jimin struggled, but soon he was completely naked. He fought furiously for a moment, then desperately, until his strength began to leave.

Then Jungkook kissed him, the lightest caress on his forehead. And then on his cheeks … and finally on Jimin’s lips.

Jimin froze, shocked by the gentle touch, in contrast to the anger that’d exploded before.

 Again, the kiss was searing, delving, commanding, but now the hunger was a yearning that sweetly seduced. Jimin’s hands, still bound into fists above his head, slowly relaxed, and when Jungkook pulled back, he kissed the palms of his hands too…

 A broken sob escaped Jimin. “I don’t want to.”

 But Jimin did want to.

 There was no doubt now…he was in love with Jeon Jungkook.

“Please... let me touch you. You can even touch me, if you want…” Jungkook whispered and it sounded pleading.

Jimin couldn’t speak, and answered by winding his arms tightly around the larger males back, and then kissing the hollow of his shoulder.

Jimin’s teeth grazed against the muscle with a sudden craving.

Jungkook pulled away and shifted his weight before spreading Jimin’s muscular thighs. He slid his hands lovingly down Jimin’s sides and abs, to his legs, lifting them around him.

 And then he finally prepared Jimin with a sweet-smelling lube, kissing while he gently claimed, it left jimin shuddering as Jungkook filled him.

The larger male’s strokes were slow, and Jimin arched to meet them, and he let out another broken sob when Jungkook began pounding deeper.

 Jimin’s soft moans turned into mewls, and Jungkook heard the smaller cry out, and shudder beneath him, and he followed soon after while he trembled till his limbs slowly relaxed with Jimin’s. he'd wanted it to last longer, but they'd been too repressed, and he didn't want to make Jimin do more right now.

Jungkook wanted to say something but couldn’t. And when he finally said the other males name, Jimin shook his head and buried his face against Jungkook’s chest.

 Jungkook held the smaller and smiled softly.

 Jimin had finally given in and Jungkook realized the silver-haired angel had just taught the devil what heaven could be…

Jungkook heavy eyes watched Jimin in the morning. The smaller male was nestled on his chest, his cheek a gentle warmth. Jungkook’s arm cradled around the others back and his hand stayed on the curve of the small male’s hip. He reveled in the others beauty, and the light brush of his fingers massaged Jimin’s spine with care.

 Jungkook felt shame, and he didn’t know how to face Jimin.

 He knew now that he couldn’t let Jimin go.

 Ever.

He’d have to put on a smile when the other woke up.

He’d have to defend himself, he knew he couldn’t promise to keep his distance again.

 Jimin was awake now. He could feel it.

 Jungkook looked down and frowned at the sadness in the others brown eyes.

Instinctively he moved to pull the smaller close, for comfort. But Jimin pulled away from him and pulled the covers up, shaking his head.

“I didn’t—” Jungkook began.

“Jungkook,” Jimin interrupted softly, “It’s not just you…Its me…I wanted it…so maybe its best…please just let me go—” Jimin looked close to tears.

“Don’t ask me to do that, I can’t.” Jungkook said searching the other males’ eyes. “I need you,” he said, with conviction.

“I swear, little one, that I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone in my whole life.” Jungkook confessed.

 “I can’t be your toy,” Jimin said painfully. “I can’t hear your men shout slurs at me—knowing it’s true.” Jimin continued in a whisper, “if you really care…give me my freedom…”

Jungkook stared at him a moment and then turned away, and got dressed quickly. He glanced back, and Jimin knew jungkook’s tender side was gone again.

“I can’t,” He answered simply, as the larger pulled on his boots.

 “You have no choice, but to stay on my ship,” he said harshly.

 Jungkook stalked toward the door, the Captain, the incomprehensibly cold and authoritative lord.

“We’re stopping for supplies and repairs, today. Don’t try to leave the ship. Taehyung will stay here and watch.” Jungkook said coldly.

He hesitated before continuing.

“Don’t worry about being called a ‘toy’ anymore. They won’t wouldn’t dare piss me off a second time.”

Jimin laughed bitterly.

“You can’t punish them for speaking the truth…” It didn’t matter, Jimin thought. Once they docked, he'd be gone.

More than ever, he had to escape.

“You won’t hear it again,” Jungkook assured curtly.

 He walked out the door, and Jimin heard the bolt lock.

 He was too numb for tears.

It hurt to love the bastard-of-a-Captain and knowing he must leave…

 But he'd never said that he loved Jimin.

The door had been bolted, so he’d have to find a way to escape.

 It’d be the last chance to save his heart—and soul—from the devil who he’d challenged—then lost the fight.

On land, A group of men looked at the ship pulling into the harbor.

Kim Woo Bin, wearing all black, stood with a booted foot arrogantly on a rock, his elbow resting on a knee as he watched the scene.

 That the Ship had stopped, and it made the trouble he’d had to reach this town worth the effort.

 He’d barely slept as he pushed himself and his men, to the limit of human endurance.

 He’d been certain that storms would force Jeon to seek harbor. He’d traveled over fifty miles most days, and Woo bin refused to give up.

 He’d never followed one of the people he convicted as ‘sons or daughters of Satan’ with so much vengeance, but he’d also never met one so frightening.

The silver-haired boy had power, he’d haunted woo bin night after night in his dreams.

 Bless, who was about to deliver the enemies of heaven right to him…

Finally, Woo bin turned to Lord Kim Bum, commander of the men. His eyes held a fevered gleam that made even Bum uncomfortable.

“You see, Bum, that devil traitor is here as I predicted.” Woo bin said.

Kim Bum shrugged. “Luck, Woo Bin.”

“Luck? Not luck” Woo Bin exclaimed fanatically. “It’s the Lord who sent Jeon to my snare. It’s to allow that messenger of Satan himself to be caught by me!” he claimed.

 Kim Bum blinked, startled.

 He was a military man, used to battle, and to the law. He knew that village finders like Woo bin liked to execute people for witchcraft, but to accuse someone as powerful as a Jeon?

 It seemed a bit crazy.

“You can’t try to burn Jeon, I don’t doubt witchcraft exists, but I can’t believe you think Lord Jeon has anything to do with the devil.” Kim Bum said.

Woo Bin looked at the other long and hard, then sighed.

 “I intend to see the man hanged. Don’t be fooled by him. He’s been bewitched, and has fallen to the devil himself.” Woo bin claimed out of jealousy for Jeon Jungkook being able to have another male without caring about right or wrong.

“I’ve known Jeon for a while,” Kim Bum said stiffly. “He’s a powerful man with will of steel—and the courage and strength to pursue what he wants.”

“Strong men are better tools for their master, the devil. Satan is clever, you must understand, that boy he’s got has the power to seduce even men like you. I tried to save Jeon, but he’s still trapped by another male.”

Woo Bin waited for a response.

“I won’t watch Jeon put in a noose without a fair trial—if,” he reflected, “we’re able to bring him to trial.” He glanced sternly at Woo Bin. “I assume you intend fair trials for Jeon Jungkook—and the strange boy with him, right?”

“I’ll prove he’s with the devil! Don’t be seduced by the beauty of his face either! That young man is the devil’s own,” Woo Bin vowed earnestly.

 He turned abruptly and climbed onto his horse. “Come. We’ll pay a visit to the mayor here and set a trap for Captain Jeon.”

Kim Bum followed suit, but not happily.

Jeon was better to call a friend than enemy.

The man didn’t need help from the devil to be a tough opponent.

In fifteen minutes Woo Bin stood at the doorway to the mayor’s brick house. A serving girl who answered greeted nervously, informing him that the mayor was having breakfast.

Woo Bin pushed his way through the door, and stalked into the house until he found the mayor.

“What’s this about?” he demanded with nervousness, as Woo Bin and ten of the soldiers filed into room.

“King’s business!” Woo Bin bellowed, tossing a document at the man.

  “The sea devil and traitor is here today. It’s known, that you’re fond of him, you have to let my men take him away.”

 The mayor nodded slowly as ten swords were drawn and angled toward his neck. Woo Bin didn’t notice that the mayor looked past him—to the girl who’d opened the door.

The mayor’s nod to her was unnoticeable to the others.

She slipped out of the house just moments before the finder’s boots rang out behind her.

“Sir, Kim Bum—I’m leaving you in charge. See that Jeon is caught. Remember that he’s a spawn of Satan—and a dangerous man.” Woo Bin said.

“I’ll remember,” Kim replied broodingly.

He understood Jeon Jungkook was a devil—with a sword at least—and he feared for his men.

 He wasn’t happy about arresting one of the nobles, especially when it looked like Woo bin wasn’t going to give a fair trial.

 Woo bin was leaving the mayors house. He called twenty men to follow.

“Where’re you going?” Kim demanded, irritated that he’d been assigned to the fanatic.

 “To get the young man who looks like the moon has touched him,” he said with a chilling smile.

Kim Bum would be glad when this day was over.

When they’d docked the ship, Jungkook left Taehyung with a few men. The town was a friendly one.

 People from many different nations had given the town a cultured worldliness that couldn’t be found is some larger cities. The streets were full of markets, and brothels.

His men, Jungkook decided, need to go to the brothels before they left again.

Jungkook didn’t expect any trouble in this town, but he’d ordered the men to choose between two close by taverns for their drinking.

He’d learned it’s best to stay together—and to keep their swords close.

 Sehun followed him with an expense ledger as Jungkook paid several merchants, ordering various foods and dried beef, vegetables, and several crates of supplies.

 After a short time, all buying was complete, their delivery in progress. Jungkook glanced up at the sky. It was cloudless. The beauty of the day somewhat relaxing him.

“What now, Cap’n?” Sehun asked. If he’d been upset at Jungkook for his night in the brig, it didn’t show.

 “Go enjoy yourself, Sehun. That tavern offers good drinks…” Jungkook shrugged.

Sehun shuffled his feet. “And what about you, Cap’n?”

“I’m supposed to see the mayor—”

“May I suggest, Captain Jeon,” Sehun interrupted a little nervously, “you could…drink a bit with the men.”

 Sehun blushed as Jungkook stared at him, startled by the suggestion.

 “It’s been rough lately, Cap’n,” Sehun continued, trying not to stutter.

 “I just meant to suggest—I mean, we’re a loyal crew, but we enjoy the sight of you, the feeling that you are one of us.” Sehun ended looking nervous by the strange wording he’d used.

Jungkook burst out laughing, and patted Sehun affectionately on the shoulder.

“Sehun, you’re going to make one hell of a pirate, come on and we’ll join the others.” Jungkook laughed.

He could drink one cup.

Or three or four, Jungkook added silently to himself.

He’d love to get roaring drunk. Maybe he can convince himself there’s nothing special about the silver-haired-spit-fired male that’d caught his heart.

He could convince himself that any young man or woman could satisfy him…

But that wasn’t true.

 No one had eyes that beautifully expressive, no one else had skin as soft as silk. No one else had lips that sinful, or a body that taunting.

 It didn’t even matter that Jimin was a male.

The other man was almost like a magical being caught between…seemingly male, but so feminine it could fool someone easily.

 He scowled as he walked beside Sehun, thinking about his problems.

What was it about Jimin that had Jungkook wanting, but eaten with guilt?

“Captain Jeon!!”

He smiled as he was greeted warmly by his men in the tavern. Tankards were raised high and one was pressed into his hands.

“To the finest rogue ever to sail—and a lord at that!” the men collectively said.

Laughter filled the room. Jungkook raised his tankard in return.

“To the rowdiest crew to ever be on a ship!” he returned. “And—the finest!” he added at the end.

 He turned to the innkeeper—a man who had entertained his crew before.

“The drinks are on me. Just make sure that they all manage to stumble back to the ship by tonight! And”—he pulled Sehun around by the neck of the shirt— “see that my friend here, Sehun, has some company.”

Jungkook chuckled when a few real ‘companions’ led a wide-eyed sehun up the stairs. He took his tankard to a table and stretched out his legs, continuing to talk with the men. The alcohol he drank finally relaxed him and lightened his mood.

He would, he promised, drink until he could forget about Jimin. even if it was only for a while…

“Please! I must see Lord Jeon!”

Jungkook glanced up as a young girl rushed awkwardly into the tavern. It was obvious from her simple dress and that she was a servant girl.

She was a servant within the lord mayor’s household.

“Here I am. What is it?” he asked quickly.

The tavern fell silent as she wound her way through men and tables, nervously wringing her hands.

“Lord Jeon, you’re in danger.” She fell silent, staring.

“it’s fine, these are all my men,” Jungkook said.

 “A man has come with king’s men. His name is Kim Woo Bin, and he’s waiting for you at the mayor’s house. He is in black, and says he wants to hang you!” she said fearfully.

“Woo Bin?” Jungkook repeated disbelievingly.

How had that crazy man travelled so quickly?

“How many men does he have?” Jungkook questioned.

“I—I don’t know. maybe fifty or more. Some are waiting for you at the mayor’s house. Woo Bin himself has gone to your ship. He said he wants someone.”

Jungkook’s face whitened.

“To the ship!” a man roared.

“No” Jungkook thundered, raising a hand.

“We’re outnumbered, and we have to outsmart Woo Bin.” He called to the pirate who’d wanted to go to the ship.

 “Come with me to the grain merchant. We’ll get wigs and capes, and go to the ship in disguise. We’ll find out if they’re on the ship.” Jungkook planned.

 He thanked the girl who’d came to warn them before quickly getting ready for more planning.

Each crew member placed his hand upon his sword hilt and waited.

Jungkook would send someone with orders after they checked the ship.

Jungkook was confused when he and the other pirate reached the Ship with their heavy loads of grain. Taehyung challenged them when they climbed on-board, and then laughed heartily at their disguises.

“What’re ya up to now, Jungkookie?” Taehyung demanded.

The only person brave enough to call him a nickname that insulting was his best-friend...

“Taehyung—no one came to question you? Have you seen anyone?” Jungkook asked the other.

Taehyung scratched his chin.

“I did see some men in uniform around the waterfront shops.”

 Jungkook quickly shimmied up to the lookout point. he scanned the dock and shops. There were uniformed men here and there.

He wondered briefly why Woo Bin hadn’t stormed the ship yet?  

Probably because he didn’t want a fight with the crew. Jungkook’s men were known as fierce fighters.

No, Woo bin wanted Jimin—and himself. But how else would he get Jimin unless he came onto the ship?

 “Taehyung—when did you last check on Jimin?” Jungkook asked in a rush.

“Oh, about an hour ago. I’d never leave him alone longer than that with you not here.” Taehyung answered.

Jungkook darted across the deck and down the short flight of steps to the hallway that led to his room.

He crashed the door in with his shoulder- and froze.

jimin was gone.

Chapter Text

Jimin

flashback

Jimin had listened all through the morning to shouts, and movements of the crew as they brought the ship to dock.

He hadn’t cried, but sat waiting. And then, when the noise stopped, he’d stood and carefully inspected the lock on the door.

Jungkook’s desk provided a piece of paper, which Jimin had wadded in his hand—and held until Taehyung came to deliver breakfast.

 He’d chatted as Taehyung set the tray up on the desk, backed to the door, and stuffed the tiny piece of paper into the keyhole, hoping that it’d keep the bolt from sliding.

Jimin had done it.

The lock hadn’t been able to work properly and he was glad Taehyung hadn’t noticed when he’d left.

he'd then approached the door and twisted the knob.

 This was it—the time to escape.

 The opportunity Jimin had hoped for.

Jimin couldn’t stay. He refused to be Jungkook’s brief romance and toy.

Jungkook had saved him from danger. He was grateful but Jimin wasn’t going to stay prisoner on a ship for however long Jungkook wanted.

but...

He’d miss the Captain…

“Because I love you,” Jimin whispered out loud, tears sliding silently down his cheeks, as he looked at the room one last time. The desk, where they’d shared meals, his bed, where Jimin had slept beside Jungkook, and learned he loved the other.

Jimin swallowed and approached the desk, where a small amount of money sat. he bit his lip, knowing he’d be stupid to leave without the coins.

 Hurriedly he made his decision and put it in his pants pocket—bitterly remembering that he’d “earned” the coins. Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t care about the money—that he knew.

 He picked up the quill and scratched out a quick note—asking Jungkook not to search for him, if he cared.

Then he left the room, closing the door quietly but firmly behind him.

Jimin hesitated as soon as he reached the deck.

He’d never manage to just walk off the ship. Taehyung was guarding—no one could pass by that without the kind pirate seeing.

 Jimin nervously ducked partway down the steps, and watched a few crew members still there, as they mended sails or attended to other tasks.

 He noticed a ladder had been rigged on the side for the men to work on the Ship. If he could just cross the deck …

Jimin waited, barely breathing.

Finally, the deck cleared except for Taehyung, who lounged against a mast, arms crossed as he relaxed in the warmth of the sun.

 Jimin took a deep breath and sprinted across the ship on his toes and, taking a secure grip on the ladder, vaulted over the side in one fluid movement.

He paused and took several deep breaths then, trying to still the erratic beating of his heart. Looking down, he saw that the water was below him—even falling from the end of the ladder was going to be quite a distance.

 Jimin scrambled down to the end of the ladder and convinced his unwilling fingers that he must let go.

The fall wasn't as bad as he’d expected. The icy clutch of the water embraced him immediately and he plunged down…

 The saltwater stung Jimin’s eyes, but he forced them open, knowing that if he saw light, he'd make it. The water seemed to release its hold, and he jackknifed his legs strongly, reaching upward for the light.

 Seconds later he broke the surface, gasping for air. He began swimming as hard as he could towards the land.

It was too late to wonder what passersby or fishermen would think of Jimin climbing out of the water. He’d have to pretend that he’d fallen in.

He was a good actor after all.

At least when he had to be.

 Just as Jimin climbed on land and struggled to his feet, panting with exertion, a horribly familiar shout riddled the air.

“The devil! Good people—see how his master the devil embraces, and carries him through the water! Take him—he will hang, and sleep with the incubus in the fires of hell!”

It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t.

Shock held Jimin immobile.

 He didn’t even shiver as he stood dripping wet—and staring at Kim Woo Bin’s fanatical eyes as he waved his walking stick at Jimin.

“Grab him!” Woo Bin shouted.

“No!” The protest ripped from Jimin’s throat with terror and agony as he saw beyond Woo Bin, that there were a dozen men in uniform.

 he tried to stagger backwards but there was only the sea, and then Jimin tripped, crashing to the rocks instead. A sickening pain speared the back of his head; darkness spread its wings across his eyes and he drifted into oblivion as rough arms wrenched him from the ground.

Jungkook

“Damn him!” Jungkook seethed as he read the note scrawled on his desk paper. “Damn that little fiery angel to hell!”

Taehyung, who’d followed him, halted in the doorway, knowing that the rage was about to fall his way.

He didn’t care—he’d never known such panic himself.

“He has to be on the ship, Cap’n—I swear on my life he never walked off the ship.” Taehyung swore with genuine worry.

Ledgers, papers and pens went flying from the desk in a furious sweep.

 “That spit-fire is more trouble than he’s worth! I’ll have to search the town and hope I find him before Kim Woo Bin does.” Jungkook growled in anger.

“Captain!” A voice yelled sounding panicked.

Jungkook stalked past Taehyung and up the steps to collide with one of his men on the deck.

“They’ve got him, Captain. They’ve got him!” the man shouted.

“Calm down, who’s got Jimin? Where?” Jungkook ordered quickly. Panic was growing.

“Kim Woo Bin!” the man exclaimed as if it was the only answer.

“How do you know?” Jungkook asked. He had to make sure it was Jimin.

“They’re going to trial someone and hang a ‘devil’s own’ in the town center, at noon.” The pirate looked genuinely disturbed.

“They said they’d— kill him?” The pain that pierced Jungkook’s insides almost made him double over.

No! His rage and pain turned explosive.

 He could not lose Jimin, not to Kim Woo Bin’s sick fanaticism! Not now, not when he’d discovered how deeply he…

Loved Jimin.

Jungkook knew it was a love that other people may not understand. They’d possibly be shunned.

 It was ‘sinful’ but that didn’t stop Jungkook’s heart.

 He realizes that now. Even if it’s considered wrong, he doesn’t care.

He loves the smaller male more than the ocean, more than his Ship…more than his own existence…

Jungkook forced himself to take a ragged breath, stiffen his spine, and clear his mind to think.

“Captain?” The pirate asked with worry.

Jungkook waved his hand for silence.

“Here’s what we’ll do. Go back to the tavern. I want all hands-on deck except for ten men. I’ll need horses for myself and those ten. Give me Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon—they’re best with weapons. And Taehyung and Jin—they can hit someone with a gun at a hundred feet. And—” Jungkook demanded.

“I’ll be with you, Captain,” the pirate said staunchly.

“I guess I get some excitement,” Taehyung mused.

“Yes, Tae. The Ship’s going to have to be able to leave at a moment’s notice. We’ll need the extra guns here, and the men aboard should be ready for hand-to-hand combat. Get going. I’ll join you as soon as I’ve laid out my plan with Tae.” Jungkook ordered the pirate.

The man nodded grimly. Still in disguise, he walked to the dock and onto the street.

 Jungkook exhaled a shaky breath and turned to Taehyung.

“Call the crew that’s already here. Tell them what we’re up against, and tell them they can choose to leave, and not be forced to fight, I’m a real criminal now, as well as a traitor. Association with me will guarantee a rope around everyone’s neck if we lose. The guns must be discreetly ready to fire—and the sails prepared.” Jungkook explained.

Taehyung shook his head dolefully.

 “Aye, aye, Jungkookie. Don’t worry too much my old friend—because I bet no one will leave, though, I’ll give them all the offer. But how will you manage to save Jimin from this?” Taehyung eyes Jungkook with mild curiosity, and something close to reverence.

“Surprise will be our main weapon, Tae. And we’ll have to hope we make it in time. Hurry and tell the others. Leave someone smart in charge, and join us quickly.” Jungkook’s heart constricts, but he pushes back any emotions.

He gives Taehyung a firm nod, and then he slips inconspicuously back to the tavern bar, where bigger plans had to be formed...

Jimin

Jimin is drifting back to reality when a booted toe slams painfully against his ribs.

 Stunned by the blow, he cried out, squeezing his eyes tightly against the pain. His sea-dampened hair was plastered against his forehead, and his clothes clung to his body; he was miserably stiff, sore, and cramped—and horribly afraid to open his eyes to the terror of what was happening.

“Get up, son of Satan. Now.” A commanding voice said.

Rather than getting another cruel kick to the ribs, Jimin forced himself to open his eyes, and pushed up off the cold stone floor.

Jimin was alone with Woo Bin in a small room with only a wooden desk and high-backed chair. The room spun when he stood, but he gritted his teeth against nausea and faintness.

 Slanting glass windows overlooked the town, where he could see workmen constructing gallows.

“Am I already condemned, then, Woo Bin?” Jimin challenged the finder, amazed that his voice was strong and not filled with the tremors he felt.

 Kim Woo bin didn’t reply.

 He waved a hand toward the door.

Jimin followed with his gaze, and saw two very muscular looking men, they looked like grunt workers, or so he assumed. Their shoulders were as wide as two men, harsh expressions, and many scars.

 From jimin’s distance he could see their mouths wore matching frowns, and they didn't look at Jimin, but at Woo Bin, as if waiting for instruction.

Woo Bin stood very straight by the desk, and nodded grimly toward the men. Jimin kept his eyes sharply on the men and began to back away along the wall.

There wasn’t anywhere to go, and his heart was pounding fiercely.

 They moved slowly toward him, but with determination. Jimin glanced at Woo bin with panic. He smiled, or rather his lips twisted into a sickening grin.

“We have to find the proof of Satan on you,” he told Jimin simply as if talking about the weather.

 Then Jimin noticed a tray on the desk behind woo bin filled with strange instruments, things he’d never seen before.

“Torture is illegal!” Jimin blurted out wildly. “Even I know that, I know that's a law. Torture is illegal!”

“I know the laws,” Woo Bin said, and he turned to the scary men again. “Strip him,” he commanded.

“No!” Jimin cried.

 Wasn’t it enough that he was trying to kill Jimin?

 Why should they be allowed to strip and humiliate him? Torture him without a real reason, it was beyond any realms of justice or humanity.

Was this what his aunt had endured?

 But jimin’s fair aunt had been a brave woman, and Jimin would cry for her all over again, if he wasn’t in such a state of fear.

The men were on him, and he screamed again, trying to evade them, but found himself backed into a corner.

Then he lashed out with all his fury, but neither man uttered a sound of pain, they were two very large men against just him.

 Jimin’s vicious fight against them came to a quick halt when Woo bin stepped forward, stunning him with a hard blow to the cheek.

 He fell limply against the wall, struggling against unconsciousness, grasping desperately at the material of his pants and shirt as they were roughly wrenched off. Tears stung his eyes, but he wouldn’t cry.

He couldn’t give up, not while his heart was still beating and breath was in his lungs.

But no matter how wildly he fought, the end was the same.

 He was left naked, and vulnerable, dizzy and confused. Gray mist seemed to swirl all around, and at first he was barely aware when Woo bin came over—with a long steel pick from the tray on the table.

 Jimin heard his cold words and almost fainted.

 “We will find the devil’s mark,” Woo Bin told the men, and they nodded, each gripping one of Jimin arms.

“You’re wrong! Your beliefs are lies—you’re nothing but scum!” Jimin screamed, hating that Woo bin would touch him, that he couldn’t stop it.

 Why was he so weak? He didn’t want enchanting beauty, he wanted to be strong, he didn’t ask for his body, and now he’d be punished for being different.

 Jimin gritted his teeth, praying to keep his courage, but he screamed when Woo Bin stuck the pick into his shoulder, drawing blood.

Blinded by tears, he stared into the cruel man’s eyes. They swam dizzily before him, gleaming with no mercy.

“No god would forgive you for something like this!” Jimin cried.

“God gave me this task,” he answered, and Jimin was certain that Woo Bin was totally, and utterly insane. Why didn’t others see it?

The pick was stabbed again, on his back.

 Jimin screamed in pain, and the pick stabbed again, and again.

 When it struck again, at jimin’s chest, he fell to the floor screaming with the pain.

 Woo Bin paused.

 Jimin lifted his eyes, filled with tears and pain—and hatred—to the finders.

 “Dammit!” he cried. “Christ himself would confess with this torture.” Jimin spat.

Woo bin didn’t reply with words.

 He compressed his lips and brought his knee to slam against Jimin’s jaw. The world seemed to recede—and then, though he felt the touch of the pick again, he couldn’t even breathe to scream against the agony.

But Jimin heard Woo bin’s excited words with disgust.

“We’ve found it! There—see how he feels no pain when I touch there. It’s Satan’s mark!” Woo Bin explained and Jimin tried to catch his breath.

He was going to die. There would be no help for him this time. No Jeon Jungkook—no, heroic knight—to come along and save him from this hell.

Jungkook would find the note, and he’d be pissed, and then he would sail away, as they slipped the noose on Jimin’s neck.

Jungkook wouldn’t know he was dead. No-one would know he’d been killed…

“Confess!” Woo Bin commanded.

 Naked, soaked, and miserable, and left to huddle against the wall on the floor, Jimin felt hysteria rise again.

 He laughed, harshly, bitterly.

 He stared at the self-proclaimed finder, and wondered how someone could be so totally, and ruthlessly cruel.

 Jimin shook his head, unable to fully comprehend that this man could so eagerly bring someone so much pain.

“You’re insane, Kim Woo Bin,” He whispered.

“Confess!” The other male hissed again.

“Confess? To what? I’m not evil, I don’t understand, I haven’t even hurt anyone. And one day, maybe people will understand that. I can’t help how I look.” Jimin said.

Woo bin knelt beside him, wrenching his face up by jerking Jimin’s silver hair.

 Jimin’s hair was blonde-ish in some lighting, even he will admit it’s odd, but that doesn’t mean he’s evil.

“I charged Park Shin Hye with bewitching and killing someone with herbal concoctions, made of blood that—” Woo Bin wasn’t making any sense.

“That person committed suicide!” Jimin cried out in protest.

“Shin Hye never hurt anyone and you murdered a good woman!” Jimin yelled with anger.

 A scream tore from his throat as the other male pulled his hair harshly again.

“Park Jimin, I charge you with knowledgeably and willingly consorting with the devil in the form of various animals. Confess! Save your immortal soul.” Woo Bin said sounding desperately crazy.

Jimin was in shock, barely able to fight a flood of laughter, the charges were ridiculous. He’d spent time in the forest but that didn’t mean he was evil.

Jimin spat on the others face.

“You demon!” Woo bin cried, wiping his face with a white handkerchief and rising. He jerked his head at the two grunt men.

 “Go out. I will handle this son of Satan myself!” Woo bin shouted and the men left.

Misery washed over Jimin and the will to fight was slowly leaving.

The room seemed to drift into light, then shadow.

There was silence, a silence that allowed Jimin to think and feel, and he wished he couldn’t.

 He realized again that he was naked, and on his knees before this raving lunatic, his hair messy and tangled. He held his arms around himself like a shield.

 Jimin thought of his previous power struggles with Jungkook—of the many times he’d feared the pirate captain. He knew that Jungkook wouldn’t have ever hurt him, not for real, and even being so vulnerable there, it hadn’t been bad.

Jungkook was normal, had some of the best qualities of character and heart.

He was also beautiful, but he wasn’t being charged with being evil like Jimin was…

Kim Woo bin wasn’t normal.

And beyond the pain, and fear, there was the feeling of being tainted by the finder’s touch.

He knelt beside Jimin again, threading his fingers through his hair, and yanking at it so tightly that tears sprang to Jimin’s eyes.

“Confess to me now or the shackles will be tightened until you bleed. You’ll be tied up and thrown into the sea.” Woo bin threatened.

“tie me, kill me—I don’t care anymore.” Jimin said weakly.

If he was going to die, he wanted it to be over with already.

 “Confess!” Woo bin ordered. “Or, I’ll find more of the devil’s marks on you, until you bleed out.” he threatened again.

The sight of the pick had Jimin staggering to his feet, clutching the cold stone wall.

 “No!” He cried, reaching out, only to feel the merciless strike of Woo bin’s hand across his cheek again, a blow that sent him sprawling back to the floor.

Jimin didn’t have any more strength to fight. They’d prick him until he was a mess of blood, and he’d kill Jimin anyway. Tears stung his eyes, and panic rose again.

Then a weariness settled over him.

“If you want me to be evil, fine, although, if I was truly evil, I’d ask the devil to kill you, and save me, now just kill me already…” Jimin was giving up.

He was exhausted, he closed his eyes, leaned against the wall, and huddled there, naked and hopeless.

Jimin expected Woo bin to call for the soldiers to take him away.

 But he heard nothing; instead he sensed the larger male beside him, kneeling.

Then he touched Jimin’s silver hair, and he opened his eyes with new alarm.

“I can save you.” His voice was very low, but held a ring of hunger.

“Save me?” Jimin whispered.

What kind of trick was the crazy man trying now?

“Let me have you, and I’ll take the devil from the weakness of your body to the strength of mine!” Woo bin said.

The meaning slowly sank in and Jimin widened his eyes.

Jimin stared, desperately trying to think with his pain-ravaged mind. Woo bins arms came around him. He felt bony fingers trail over his spine, and fought the raging desire to slap the other male.

 Jimin suddenly felt more nauseas then, almost broke into hysterical laughter.

Kim Woo Bin—the great seeker of virtue and enemy of the devil—wanted him.

His beauty was decidedly more of a curse…

Hands moved over Jimin’s body, and he felt tears spring to his eyes.

 Then he became numb, reverting to a distant place far within his mind. He hated Woo bin, loathed him—but enough to die?

The door was suddenly flung open.

“Kim Woo Bin!” a voice boomed with authority.

An officer, adorned with the ribbons and jewels of the nobility, stood in the doorway.

Woo bin stiffened, dropped Jimin as if he were fire itself, and rose.

 “Kim bum—thank you! For this confessed devil almost took me into enchantment—you saved me.” Woo bin was saving face and Jimin wanted to puke.

“Confessed?” the man inquired with a skeptical edge to his voice.

“yes, confessed.” Woo bin sounded like a child in a toy shop.

 The officer was looking at him, but Jimin could no longer see.

 The blows to his head were causing everything to swim before his eyes.

Jimin wanted to speak, to withdraw his confession, and swear that the charges were ridiculous.

  But he couldn’t make his lips move. All Jimin could do was lapse in and out of consciousness, and pray that death would be gentle, easing him from the pain.

“Find clothing for him,” someone said, “and bring him before the court.”

Chapter Text

Jimin

When they brought Jimin before the court, he couldn’t stand.

He should’ve been fighting, pronouncing his innocence, but he couldn’t speak. Dimly he heard the grunt men give testimony to the “devil’s mark.”

 Jimin heard Woo Bin tell the people that jimin—was in consort with the condemned witch, Park shin Hye, and he was a son of Satan.

How could anyone believe things so insane?

Surely good people couldn’t believe the things he accused. Woo bin continued to talk, his voice rising and falling, and with each word Jimin realized that he really wanted him dead.

Jimin opened his mouth to deny everything, but blackness descended, and he swayed to the floor. Someone held him up, and for a moment he couldn’t even remember his name, or where he was.

Then it was over.

Jimin was condemned, sentenced to hang till dead.

They’d kill him now.

Murder him in cold blood.

He was taken to an empty cell to wait for execution.

It was then, pitifully, that he came to full consciousness again.

In that little room, he sank to his knees and folded his hands.

Jimin had never been religious in the way most people were, but chose to be open to the beliefs of many religions. There could be a higher a power, but no one knew if that was one ‘god’, or another deity that ruled with many, like in legends.

 Jimin asked for mercy to whatever god that chose to listen, but he couldn’t ask for forgiveness for loving another man, even in his prayers, he couldn’t completely accept defeat.

 He prayed for distant family and for Jungkook. He begged for woo bin to never take Jungkook.

He didn’t want the captain to die for rescuing him.

Time passed too quickly.

 Men came for Jimin again, despite his protests, and dragged him down an arched hallway that led to a street, where people were milling.

They stared at Jimin; some with curiosity, some in horror, some with indignation.

It was like the day Jimin’s aunt had been killed.

There were many who wanted to protest, but they feared for their own lives as the insanity surrounded them.

“I’m not evil!” Jimin screamed. He had to use his voice now that it was back.

Jimin’s arm was twisted so viciously that he let out a pain filled cry. The crowd began to murmur and shuffle about uneasily, but despite this Jimin was dragged up the steps to the gallows.

He noticed the sky was a brilliant blue, that the air was crisp, and cool, and beautifully clean.

The executioner jerked his hands behind his back, and tied them despite the struggle.

“Don’t let them do this to me! It’s not justified—” Jimin yelled in both fear and anger.

“In the name of His Royal Majesty, you are condemned to die for ungodly crimes and murder!” Woo bin’s voice rose above Jimin’s.

The noose was slipped over his neck, and he felt the rough fiber of the rope on his throat.

 Jimin was about to die, and all he could suddenly think of, was his brief time with Lord Jeon Jungkook.

 Life. It was so very, very wonderful.

And he’d only just realized that, when it was about to be taken …

 “I’m not evil! I haven’t done anything wrong! You’re guilty, Kim Woo bin, murdering countless innocent people! Coldblooded murder—” Jimin shouted. He could see the crowd looking on with both fear and guilt.

“Executioner!” Woo bin ordered. “Pull the lever!” He shouted angrily.

“No!” Jimin cried.

Fragments of his life flashed across his mind, but above it all desperation shrieked within him.

This couldn’t be the end. Not for him. Jimin couldn’t be about to die.

Jimin’s very soul cried out in terror.

Not now, not when he’d just realized what love was! Jungkook!

Tears stung his eyes. He’d left Jungkook not knowing he was going to be caught.

 Jimin’s mind registered the sounds around him. He heard the crank, as the lever for the trap door was pulled, and vaguely heard a peculiar whistling through the air.

Strange, but, he knew that whistling sound.

“Die, you evil creature! Unnatural being!” Woo bin yelled triumphantly.

Woo bin’s voice rose high over the crowd, a sound that compelled and jerked at the emotions.

What did a whistling sound matter? he asked himself. Woo bin hadn’t heard it; his voice had risen above it.

Perhaps Jimin was only imagining he’d heard something...

“I said pull the lever!” Woo bin raged.

Jimin thought he saw something fly through the air.

But the trap door beneath his feet fell open, and gave way to the void of death.

Jimin was dying.

 He felt the rope against his neck, and tensed instinctively with final, desperate fear, waiting for the jerk of the noose.

 But miraculously, the rope tightened for barely a second—then not at all.

he didn’t choke, or stop breathing.

 The rope broke—cleanly, completely.

  Jimin fell and fell, until he laid sprawled on the dusty ground, stunned and disbelieving.

A voice rang out, loud, strong, riddling the air with its forceful timbre.

It was Jungkook’s voice.

“I charge you Kim Woo bin with crimes against humanity! And I promise, that this is the day you'll die!” Jungkook shouted.

 Jungkook…

 Tears filled Jimin’s eyes with gratitude and relief.

Jungkook was there for him again, when he’d lost all hope.

The whistle he’d heard had been an arrow, soaring through the air, severing the rope.

Jeon Jungkook, courageous as the wind, Jimin thought with pride, had come to challenge the injustice of their dreadful times. To challenge the crown—and death itself.

The dirt, leaving a gritty feeling in his mouth, assured Jimin that he really was alive.

 He didn’t have time for anything but that realization, before all hell broke loose.

He scrambled to crouch under the gallows, while the sharp whistle of arrows, and guns fired at close range set his ears ringing.

Before him, the man who’d have been his executioner dropped to the dirt.

  All around-people were shouting and screaming. For several seconds Jimin held still, wondering how Jungkook had managed such an attack on the finder, and the soldiers with him.

Finally, he crept from beneath the gallows, ripping the rope from his neck.

He froze at the sight of an armed soldier approaching, then exhaled as a shot was fired and he fell.

Jimin stared for a second in shock as the stranger’s eyes glazed inches from his feet, then he crawled away and got to his feet.

He didn't have any weapons to protect himself..

 He saw that Woo bin was still alive, standing on the gallows. He shouted orders furiously, but already a good fraction of the soldiers lay dead, while the rest fought the crowd to find the attackers.

 Only Jungkook could be seen.

 Mounted on a huge horse, he charged through the crowd, who cheered him, and eagerly made a path.

Woo bin drew a gun as Jungkook approached. But the finder panicked and his shot went harmlessly into the ground.

 He was shaking too badly to successfully reload, and threw the gun aside, drawing his sword instead.

“Captain, Jimin!!” a voice shouted.

Jimin saw that the warning had been shouted from a nearby roof, by Taehyung.

And then he gasped, realizing the cause of the warning—more of Woo bin’s soldiers were charging their way. One burly soldier was almost near jimin.

jimin still didn't have a weapon.

  Jungkook was finally closer—but his purpose changed with no other option open to him.

He wanted to kill Woo bin—shit, he really wanted to kill him—but Jimin was vulnerable. And the armed men were closing around.

The horse pranced and refused to move over the steps of the gallows.

Jungkook kept one eye on Woo bin.

 “Jimin! run to me!” Jungkook yelled with desperation.

A soldier came towards Jimin with a sword raised.

But Jimin ran to Jungkook quickly. He reached down with one hand.

 “Jump—now!” He told Jimin eagerly.

 Jimin gripped his hand and leapt with all his strength and energy, throwing himself in front of Jungkook obediently.

Jimin felt the deadly tension of Jungkook’s arm, and his sword flashed in the air with deadly purpose.

The soldier screamed and fell.

 “To the ship!” Jungkook shouted.

Jungkook’s arm came around Jimin, securing him to the saddle with strength and warmth.

“Hold on, jimin!” he ordered and the horse reared before bolting into a fast, erratic gallop.

 The crowd, now alive with excitement and frenzy, thundered out cheers, parting to allow Jungkook and the scattered pirates to escape.

 Woo bin shouted orders after them, and as they clattered their way furiously down the stone street, the soldiers were close behind.

Merchants’ stands of fruits and vegetables crashed around them as the pirates raced to the ship. Several of the horses were forced to leap, yet they continued.

They reached the dock—and the horses snorted in protest as they were jerked to rearing halts.

Jimin found himself thrust into Taehyung’s arms.

“Take him to safety.” Jungkook ordered, sliding off the horse, and swatting the animal’s rear to send it racing away.

“Come on!” Taehyung urged.

His arm was around Jimin and he followed the lead to the plank, but twisted to look behind.

Jungkook was rushing the pirates, and shouting orders.

“Raise the sails!” Jungkook boomed quickly.

And beyond the ship, the soldiers were coming, Woo bin at the lead.

“Taehyung!” Jimin shrieked as he saw an arrow sail through the air.

  He dragged the other down, in time to save them each from a death blow, but too late to avoid a hit, as evidenced by Taehyung’s agonized cry as the arrow tore into his thigh.

“Leave me!” he commanded Jimin, gritting out his words painfully between clenched teeth.

“Are you crazy?! I can’t!” He cried in horror, locking his jaw together for strength, and placed his hands under Taehyung’s arms, He dragged the taller along.

 The task was almost too hard, and he was moving slowly.

 “Jimin!” Taehyung hissed. “Go—hide!” he ordered again.

Jimin gasped for breath and tensed again to pull the others weight faster.

“We’ll make it, Taehyung.” He said with frustration.

  A cannon suddenly boomed from the deck of the ship, slowing the tide, but not stopping it. There were still more men.

The thundering movement sent Jimin sprawling to the wood, coughing and choking from the powder that filled the air.

He struggled to his feet, tears falling as he reached desperately for Taehyung’s arms again.

They might not make it...

Soldiers were already in hand-to-hand combat with the pirates at the ships ladder. Jimin stared with horror, then screamed as a soldier came at them, his sword gleaming as it caught the sun’s rays.

“I don’t think so!”  It was Jungkook’s voice, and his sword hit the steel armor on the man’s back, forcing him to turn with a growl.

“Soldiers should fight armed men, not the defenseless and wounded!” Jungkook said with annoyance.

 The soldier bellowed and charged at Jungkook, who sidestepped him swiftly and slashed out his sword. The man let out a hideous shriek and fell overboard to the water below.

 Then Jungkook sheathed his bloodied sword, and hunched down beside jimin.

“Get on the ship!” he ordered, ducking to take Taehyung himself.

 He grunted, and hefted the wounded pirate over his shoulder. Jimin coughed and whirled to obey for once, Jungkook followed behind, shouting more orders.

“The ladder—drop the ladder!” Jungkook yelled.

 The men were all on board, but so were more than two dozen soldiers. The air was alive with the curses and screams of battle, the clash of swords, the thud of steel.

Jungkook pushed Jimin before him as he hurriedly carried Taehyung to safety and deposited him there.

“Is it bad?” Jungkook asked his best friend with a frown. Wondering if he'd have to do what he'd always feared.

Taehyung gave a boxy grin through his pain.

“It’s not that bad, Jungkookie…” Taehyung answered.

Jungkook nodded grimly and patted Taehyung on the shoulder. He glanced briefly at Jimin.

“Get to safety, now!” Jungkook ordered but jimin stayed still.

 He couldn’t go hide—not with Taehyung on the stairs, he’d saved Jimin’s life. He'd shot the arrow that snapped the rope around Jimin's neck.

Jungkook, assuming Jimin would obey blindly, under the circumstances, had went to join the fighting again.

A groan from Taehyung reminded him of his presence—and the wound in his thigh.

Jimin dropped down beside him, ripping shreds of material from his shirt.

“Taehyung!” He whispered. “I’m going to take the arrow out.” He said.

“No.” Taehyung groaned. “The blood and…”

“It’s going to be okay,” Jimin assured, trying to smile comfortingly, even as they heard the groans of the men fighting around them.

“Trust me, Tae-Tae,” Jimin encouraged.

“I won’t let you die.” He mumbled hurriedly.

The other male blinked at him through the pain.

“Tae-Tae? You gave me a nickname? Does that mean we’re friends?” Taehyung asked sounding oddly childlike.

Jimin felt tears form and nodded eagerly.

 He clenched his teeth and studied the arrow.

Fortunately, it hadn’t fully gone in. Jimin breathed a sigh of relief. No major blood vessels had been severed, he was certain. He placed a hand on the others thigh, and the other on the arrow, tensing with determination, bringing all his strength.

 The arrow refused to budge; Jimin refused to allow it to stay lodged in his friend’s leg.

 The arrow came out so fast that he keeled backwards.

Taehyung screamed, and he scrambled back to wrap the wound in the cloth, pressing it on the thigh firmly and pulling the bandage tight to stop the blood.

“You’re not evil at all, you’re an angel.” Taehyung said weakly, his voice barely there.

  Jimin was stunned.

He’d been called ‘evil’ and ‘son of the devil’ so much lately, that it was a surprise to be labelled something so good.

  A scream caught in Jimin’s throat when he saw a figure creeping up behind Jungkook across the deck.

“Jungkook!” He warned.

The horrified warning rose above the noise.

 Jungkook ducked, and spun just in time to allow Woo bin’s blade to pierce one of his own soldiers. With a stunned expression, the soldier fell to the deck.

Woo bins eyes lifted, and fell on Jimin, who hovered fearfully over Taehyung. Jimin returned the stare with wide eyes. he saw the hate in the finder’s eyes, and knew he would readily sacrifice his own life to kill Jimin.

Jungkook suddenly shouted the finder’s name.

“If you want to fight me, finder, here’s your chance!” Jungkook said cockily.

Woo bin’s gaze landed on Jungkook with frustration.

 “Son of Satan!” Woo bin raged. But then Jeon Jungkook bounded closer, with his deadly sword raised.

"You have no idea how right you are, this time, but it doesn't matter, you'll be joining him in hell first." Jungkook taunted.

Transfixed, Jimin watched.

His heart seemed to rise in his throat as the two men clashed again…and again.

And then he saw Jungkook handsome features held a lethal grin. His eyes were narrowed and hard … glittering with deadly vengeance. The others eyes seemed to flash to a different color. He’d been playing with the man all along.

The sword made a high sweep into the air—and then descended.

Kim woo bin—the unstoppable finder—stood still for a moment.

 He stared incredulously at Jungkook, and at the stream of blood that stained the white of his shirt beneath his black coat.

And then he fell to the deck.

Jimin let out a sound of relief.

 Forgetting Taehyung, he stumbled to the deck.

Kim woo bin was dead.

Was it normal to feel so happy by someone’s death? Jimin knew it was just relief. It was understandable in this situation.

  He was dead—and Jimin was free.

And Jungkook was still alive, Justice had come at last. right?

 “Surrender, Kim Bum!” Jungkook shouted, and the soldiers all paused. Jimin thought he’d seen Kim bum before, but he was too dazed to remember.

 All action on the ship froze.

Chapter Text

Only the ocean could be heard, the waves lapping peacefully against the ship. All the men stood still, breathlessly waiting as Jungkook and Bum stared at each other.

At last, Kim Bum lowered his sword.

He held it out, lowered himself with a modest grace, and laid it at Jungkook’s feet. There was silence, and as the two men stared at one another, it was obvious they’d met before—as friends.

Jungkook’s voice was low when he spoke.

“Lord Kim Bum, in surrendering to me, you cast yourself into the midst...of revolution.” Jungkook said sternly.

“I’ve heard it whispered that you were with the revolution, Jeon. I ask that my men who don’t want to join, be peacefully sent back to shore.” Bum said.

“Alright,” Jungkook nodded, and with his words it seemed that the soldiers around them felt relieved too. They put down their weapons eagerly.

“Alright,” mirrored Kim Bum with a small smile.

 Men were beginning to move, to tend to the dead and wounded. Jimin’s eyes swam with tears at the sad scene.

Through a thick haze, he saw Jungkook.

The largers eyes were on him.

Jimin stood in blood, was covered with it, and he felt guilty because it was his fault.

 A small sob welled in Jimin’s throat, choking him.

 He met Jungkook’s eyes for just a moment, then he slid to the deck, consciousness finally deserting him.

 Jimin woke up alone—his fingers clutched the sheets to fight off his exhaustion, but he drifted back into sleep again.

When Jimin woke up again, he was met with the pirate named Jin, looking at him softly.

“Seokjin, right?” He whispered. He felt a pang because Taehyung wasn’t there instead.

“yes, but call me Jin.” The older male was usually working in the kitchen, or helping the sick pirates with medicines’.

Jimin had only met the other a few times.

“Thank goodness you’re okay.” Jimin said with a small sigh. The medical trained pirate was needed and it’d been bad to lose such a nice person.

“I have some broth, drink it, we can’t lose you too.” Jin said kindly before handing Jimin the cup of broth.

“Oh,” He whispered. “I should have just died …” Jimin said sadly, eyes closing again.

Jin took a deep breath.

 “Do you think their lives were given in vain?” Jin said with a tone that reminded Jimin of a mother scolding a child.

“No, but—” Jimin started.

“The men we lost were fighters. It was their choice to fight. They died with their honor.” Jin explained softly.

 “Jin?” Jimin asked, then hesitated.

“what is it?” Jin asked.

“Jungkook—wasn’t hurt, was he?” He whispered.

“The Captain is fine, don’t worry. He’s a cat with nine lives—and he always lands on his feet.” Jin paused for a moment.

“He has a lot on his mind. We have to leave after repairs but must be prepared in case we’re attacked.” Jin continued.

“I don’t understand,” Jimin murmured. “Woo bin’s dead.” He said with a sigh.

“you’re not the cause of this. By killing Woo bin, Jungkook became an outlaw—but only for now. It was obvious that Woo bin was mentally ill. So, the charges will probably be dismissed. But Jungkook is with the revolution, and that’s dangerous till we get to a safer area.” Jin explained.

Jimin nodded in understanding.

 “How’s Taehyung?” He asked suddenly.

The older blinked before lowering his head for a moment as if to think.

“Taehyung…well…” Jin paused for a moment.

“He’s not…” Jimin swallowed back the urge to cry. He needed to be tough.

“He’s fighting a fever,” Jin answered simply. “it’s getting infected and I don’t have the correct medicine yet but maybe he’ll survive since you removed the arrow so quickly…” Jin looked sad but hopeful.

“Dammit!” Jimin cursed. He started to get up but froze.

 He suddenly realized he was naked under the covers, and with a puzzled frown, he realized he also smelled like soap and something else—medicinal.

He glanced at Jin and he cleared his throat.

“You had wounds yourself. Holes on your back and chest, matted with blood. I don’t mean to embarrass you, but we had no choice but to clean the wounds—” Jin looked worried so Jimin smiled.

 “I’m grateful, don’t worry. It makes me happy that I’m clean and safe.” Jimin said.

“you’ve only been asleep for a day.” Jin said changing the subject.

 “Can I see Taehyung?” Jimin asked softly.

 “Sorry, but no. Eat the soup. If you’re stronger in the morning, I’ll take you to see him.” Jin rose, trying very hard to smile cheerfully. “If you want to see Taehyung, you must eat the soup.”

 The ploy worked. Jimin nodded slowly, then reached for the broth.

Jimin ate, but discovered he was too weak to get up.

When morning came, he tried to crawl out of bed, almost fell over, before he carefully came to his feet, found clothing and got dressed.

Seokjin came in as he sat on the bed, and seemed distressed to see him up and dressed.

“You supposed to rest—” Jin started.

“You said I could see Taehyung.” Jimin interrupted.

“He’s fighting the infection.” Jin reasoned and Jimin pouted for a moment.

“I have to see him, with or without your help,” Jimin said softly but firmly.

Jin muttered under his breath, certain Jungkook wouldn’t approve but the captain was with Lord Kim bum. The military man was telling important things regarding the coveted crown and the mood of the people.

“All right, we’ll go see Tae, and then you’ll come back here with me and rest again.” Jin said with finality.

“Okay,” Jimin said, but then, strangely, he hesitated.

“What is it?” Jin asked with worry.

Jimin shook his head.

 “Nothing, I’m ready. I was just thinking that—the other pirates must hate me now.” Jimin mumbled.

Jin stared in surprise, and then shook his head.

 “No, they’re actually happy that Woo bin is gone.” Jin assured.

 Jimin didn’t quite believe it, but he kept silent as they walked through the ship.

  Jimin nodded as he saw a man exit the door, where Jin was leading him.

 It was the gun keeper, a foreigner, an older man with heavily muscled shoulders, but gentle brown eyes.

 He’d been frowning, but when he saw Jimin, he smiled.

“Ah, Jimin! it’s good to see you looking healthier!” He clutched Jimin’s hand and kissed it with respect, leaving Jimin feeling flustered.

 “We were all worried, glad you’re okay.” The man said.

“Thank you,” Jimin murmured “you, and all of the crew.” He added quickly.

“Ah, it was nothing, we wanted Woo bin gone as much as you did.” He said.

“yes,” Jimin mumbled. Then he asked worriedly, “Were you with Taehyung? How’s he doing?” Jimin prodded.

 “I was on my way to find the captain and that other doctor with Lord Kim bum. Taehyung’s fever is worse. Seokjin, could you stay with him—” The large man looked worried which made Jimin feel uneasy.

“We’ll stay with him,” Jimin quickly said.

“No, you don’t want to see something like this...” the man argued and Jimin bristled.

“That ‘something’ is my friend, Taehyung, and I’m going to see him regardless.” Jimin raised his chin and pushed the door.

Taehyung laid twisting on the sheets, mumbling in the throes of his fever. He was shirtless, and his pants had been cut at the thigh. The arrow wound had obviously been treated beyond Jimin’s quick tie, and a smoothly constructed bandage cradled the injured leg.

 Jimin knelt beside the bed and found the damp cloth they’d been using to soothe taehyung’s heated body. Tenderly, he smoothed the hair from his friend’s forehead and wiped his face.

 “Jin! Come help me! We have to cool him down more, it’s getting worse!” Jimin panicked.

Seokjin hurried to Jimin’s side.

A few men watched for a moment, and then someone murmured something about finding the captain.

For once, Jimin was not thinking of Jeon Jungkook but Taehyung, who was in pain and fading fast.

“He’s delirious,” Jin said sadly. “Are you sure we’re doing it right?” Jin asked with fear.

“He’s getting worse, Jin. He’s burning from the inside-out…” Jimin mumbled with worry.

Tirelessly, Jimin and Jin worked together.

 Jimin kept talking to Taehyung, soothing him, though he might not be able to hear it. He didn’t notice when the door opened again, and this time it was the new doctor and Jungkook.

Jimin was startled when an older man knelt beside him, placing a hand on Taehyung’s head. He looked to the boy first, but then smiled at Jimin.

“You’re doing well, maybe he’ll be able to fight the fever now.” The doctor said.

“I’ll move, so you can get to him.” Jimin stuttered.

“No, you’ve done more than I did, stay and comfort your friend.” The doctor told him with a tired smile.

Taehyung’s eyes suddenly opened; they were glassy from the fever and pain.

“It hurts…” Taehyung cried. “Just let me die …” Taehyung sobbed.

 “No, shh…it’s okay, p-please…” Jimin could tell something was wrong. The poison from the infection must have spread more than they’d thought.

 He knew what that meant.

Jimin felt tears spring to his eyes as Taehyung gripped his hand tightly. The pain on his friend’s face made Jimin let out a broken sob.

A spasm riddled Taehyung’s weak body, and he gazed at Jimin.

 “Thank you, for being my friend, and p-please promise me something…” Taehyung wheezed weakly and Jimin choked on another sob.

 “Anything…” Jimin said without hesitation.

 “Please take care of each other…Jungkook…my old friend, don’t let this one escape…” Taehyung’s voice held a familiar teasing that only made the situation more heart wrenching.

 “I promise tae, I won’t let him go again…thank you, for always being there.” Jungkook said with a shaky voice and Jimin glanced at the other with a pang.

 Jungkook looked wrecked, even if on the outside, he seemed composed, but Jimin could tell the other was hurting.

 Badly.

 “Stay with Jungkookie…I know he can be an ass sometimes, but inside he’s soft and kind. Thank you for giving me peace of mind…he’ll be okay with you here Jiminnie…” Taehyung’s voice got softer and then with one last small smile, he closed his eyes.

 Taehyung was gone.

 “There’s nothing we can do now…” the doctor said sadly.

 Jimin couldn’t believe it.

 Jungkook’s best friend and Jimin’s only friend—the brave, and playful Taehyung—was dead.

 Jimin sobbed out his name with a heart broken cry and leaned forward to hug Taehyung’s body one last time. He wished he’d been able to spend more time with his friend.

Seokjin and a stranger named Yoongi, grabbed Jimin gently and hauled him away; the doctor draped the covers over Taehyung’s face.

Jimin’s face was buried in Seokjin’s chest, the older man comforting the best he could.

Jungkook watched the scene silently, his sorrow for Taehyung deep, his heart crying for his longest friend.

Jin was looking at him for help, Jungkook knew, but he felt entirely helpless.

Seokjin understood, nodding to Jungkook, before leading a sobbing Jimin from the room.

Jungkook paused for a minute at Taehyung’s side.

“You were the best friend I’ve ever had, the best of men, my Taehyungie...” Jungkook forced himself not to cry.

 He couldn’t. Taehyung would’ve told him to remember the happy times, and all the years they’d fought beside each other.

“He’s not in pain anymore,” the doctor said quietly.

“yeah, he died in the way he’d always told me he would…protecting someone.” Jungkook mused, before he turned, and left the room

He couldn’t go back to his own room. he had to find his own peace before he could even attempt to console Jimin.

That night he found his peace in a bottle of whiskey.

 When Taehyung’s body was gently placed into the welcoming sea, it was Seokjin, Namjoon, and young Sehun who stood beside Jimin.

 And even as Jungkook ached for Taehyung, he was surprised by the jealousy he felt, seeing Jimin becoming close with Seokjin.

 Jungkook’s never been good with his feelings and he was terrified to approach Jimin. he didn’t know what to say or do.

 Jin later told him that Namjoon and the others were all tending to Jimin like mother hens, escorting the small male to the kitchen for meals, and returning the other to Jungkook’s room.

Seokjin looked at Jungkook very disapprovingly whenever they talked, so Jungkook knew Jin was aware that he’d been going to a spare room to sleep.

 But Jungkook had nothing to say to his new first mate except that he wanted to be left alone. Jin didn’t leave the spare room and instead launched into a lecture, and Jungkook ended up leaving the room angrily.

He hurried along the hallway.

His boots pounding across the flooring as he headed for the ladder to climb up the mast. He needed time to feel the sea and the wind, to watch the great sails of the ship against the velvet night sky.

The wind had always been calming up high, the view soothing.

Maybe it would calm him down and he could think beyond his heartache and focus on the future. He had to be strong. Although he knew it’d be tough without his oldest friend beside him.

 Taehyung was probably laughing at him from above, for being nervous to be around Jimin now. He knew exactly what his friend would’ve said.

“The “devil” master of the swift sea- shouldn’t be afraid of his feelings. You certainly weren’t afraid of the silver-haired-spitfire before, Jungkookie, why start now?”

 Jungkook could almost hear Taehyung’s laugh. That’s what Taehyung would’ve said alright, and Jungkook wanted to cry.

He looked up at the clear night sky, searching for answers within the stars.

They’d all become outlaws now, including Jimin, and Jungkook wasn’t looking forward to having to tell the other he’d have to stay, even though Woo bin was gone.

He groaned and sighed loudly, suddenly furious with himself.

He was Captain Jeon Jungkook, the master of the ship. He’d rescued Jimin twice from being killed.

He had every right to command the smaller male to stay, he’d also unquestionably made Jimin his.

 But he didn’t want to command and force Jimin.

 He wanted to be loved, and to give Jimin his love, but he couldn’t give Jimin the one thing he wished he could.

Marriage.

They were already ‘sinning’ and ‘unnatural’ in most people’s eyes and, besides, marriage between the same sex was forbidden...

“Jimin, you should know it wasn’t my choice to be assigned to Woo bin,” Lord Kim Bum said sitting across from Jimin.

“I’m a soldier, a trained machine, and barely know current laws.” He shrugged, then stared at Jimin.

“I didn’t doubt woo bin’s ability, until he accused Jeon. I couldn’t believe Lord Jungkook of all men was accused of something so silly!” He shook his head. “It didn’t seem plausible, but I think Woo bin truly believed both of you were the devil’s representatives on earth.” Kim Bum mused.

Jimin stared at Lord Kim Bum curiously. He was a tall, muscular man with brown hair, and a face wise beyond his years. And he’d been very kind to Jimin the whole time he’d been on the ship.

Taehyung’s death was a cruel blow to Jimin’s heart.

 Jungkook had been avoiding him, and that increased the heartache. He hadn’t even been able to thank Jungkook for risking his crew and his life to save him. again.

Jimin broke out of his thoughts and stared at Kim Bum, curious to know his opinion.

“Lord Kim,” He said at last, “I’m not evil.” He smiled slightly and drank a long sip of his alcohol.

“I believe you,” Bum said, leaning slightly across the table so that his eyes met Jimin’s seriously. “But evil beings do exist.”

“Do they?” Jimin asked skeptically.

“I’ve seen them,” Bum said simply. “Six months ago, some women was brought in for murder. She’d argued with a neighbor, then told him he’d die that night. The poor man did. When the woman’s house was searched, they found strange things, she confessed to the murder and said she was proud.” Kim bum looked weirded out just repeating the story and Jimin inwardly rolled his eyes.

 “But that’s only one person. I know I’m not evil, so I’m sure many people have been falsely accused.” Jimin explained.

 Sehun slid into a seat at their table with a small laugh.

 “You should hear Captain Jungkook on this subject! He’s very opinionated. He says that it’s not the evil that kills, but the fear of it.” Sehun said.

“Taehyung had also had strong views on the subject. His grandfather was hanged being falsely accused.” Sehun said before widening his eyes as he realized what he’d said. Taehyung’s name.

“He was?” An ache grew in Jimin’s heart, but he was glad Sehun was telling them.

“Yeah,” Sehun hesitated before deciding it was safe to continue.

” Taehyung had always wanted finders gone.” Sehun explained.

“But the devil does exist!” Kim Bum exclaimed. “If we believe in our own Gods, then we have to believe in the devil too.” He defended.

“I believe in the possibility of a higher power.” Jimin said. “And there might also be a devil. But I know that I should focus more on the present and what I know for a fact.” Jimin explained softly.

“Persecution was once much worse,” Sehun told them. “They say that back in 1598, when people were tortured, fingernails were ripped out and they were beaten unmercifully.” Sehun visibly shuddered at the details.

Jimin’s face paled and his stomach heaved.

“Sehun!” Kim Bum cut in sharply. “Watch what you say!”

“I’m sorry,” Sehun said quickly.

 “Jimin, I didn’t mean—” Sehun started.

“I’m okay,” He assured them. he would be...in time.

Chapter Text

Jimin knew where they were headed after hearing about it in the kitchen.

 He’d have a chance to get in touch with his distant relatives, if he was lucky. And since Jungkook didn’t seem to care anymore, he could try and find his relatives.

 He stood in the center of the room, knotting his fingers together, as he fought a wave of depression.

 He missed Jungkook, and didn’t understand why the larger male was avoiding him when he’d saved Jimin’s life…

Somehow, he’d hoped they’d become closer, and he’d be able to stay by Jungkook’s side as an equal and not a glorified prisoner.

“idiot” he whispered, hurling himself on the bed, and crying softly.

Jungkook didn’t owe him anything. He’d already saved Jimin’s life twice.

Whatever his future held, he was lucky to be alive.

Thanks to Jungkook.

Jungkook’s distant treatment was probably for the best, Jimin was planning to leave, but for real this time. He wouldn’t have to worry about Kim Woo Bin because he was gone.

 Jimin was safe now, right?

But his life remained a question—with little hope of a decent answer. And Jimin was worried that he’d bring trouble to his only living family members.

Jimin froze as he heard the rasp of the door.

Jimin didn’t turn around, but he knew that Jungkook had entered the room. His presence was as dominating as his character; his masculine scent of clean air and sea wafted around like a breeze.

He finally turned, facing the larger male with nervousness.

“J-jungkook?” Jimin’s question was breathless.

He couldn’t read or understand what Jungkook’s expressionless features masked.

 The larger closed the door firmly behind him, and then leaned against it, arms staunchly folded across his chest. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

He cleared his throat impatiently, and when he finally spoke it was husky and harsh. 

“If you’re even thinking about trying to leave again, I’ll tie you to the mast.” Jungkook said.

Jimin winced inwardly and stared down at his fingers as he swallowed.

 “I’m sorry for everything I’ve caused. I put your life in danger, and the lives of your entire crew. T-Taehyung is dead because of me…he shielded me…” Jimin managed to choke out around his emotions.

“You didn’t do anything, Woo bin did.” Jungkook argued.

 Jimin lowered his head, he didn’t want to fight with Jungkook, but the other male always made it so hard.

“You risked your life for me twice and—” Jimin was cut off by the sharp glare sent his way.

“Damn it! the lives of my crew and friends are important, but those men are fighters, trained, and ready. Jimin, you made me half insane! What if we hadn’t made it in time?!” Jungkook said with exasperation.

 “I can’t thank you enough! but—I’m a man, and I can’t be held prisoner like this! It hurts my pride and— “Jimin started to explain.

“Park Jimin!!” Jungkook shouted in a voice so deep with emotion, it made Jimin blink at the other.

“Jimin,” Jungkook repeated but softly this time.

 “When I found out that Woo bin had captured you, I wanted to tear him limb from limb. You little stubborn, beautiful, prideful man! I would fight anyone again and again for you.” Jungkook said startling Jimin so much he sucked in a breath.

“J-Jungkook—?” Jimin mumbled in question.

“Listen to me! I’d kill for you, die for you. But don’t think you can just waltz right into trouble again and I’d be fine with it. Don’t think I can’t force you to stay.” Jungkook’s voice was deep, threatening, and pure dominance.

Jimin had never had the larger use his power so straightforwardly.

“Jungkook, please, you don’t understand.” Jimin whimpered before straightening his shoulders. He couldn’t give in to Jungkook now, not when his freedom was on the line again.

“I don’t really want to,” Jungkook hissed with annoyance, pushing away from the door to stalk toward Jimin.

 “But then maybe I do understand. Do you hate being protected so much? It’s hurting your manly pride? Jimin, I need to protect you because it’s obvious you can’t stay safe alone. You don’t seem to mind letting Seokjin coddle you? Or Sehun treat you delicately!” Jungkook’s voice rose angrily and Jimin’s never felt so small.

“Sehun? Seokjin!?” Jimin repeated incredulously, and then his own anger rose.

“You’re kidding me, right? How dare you, Jungkook! They’re my friends! when Taehyung died, they were there to help me, when you weren’t!! He was your best friend!” Jimin screamed.

“But you don’t want me! You’ve made that clear many times! You can’t have one conversation with me, without asking about leaving! Or telling me how much I’m hurting your manly pride!!” Jungkook shouted back.

“I’m not trying to hurt you! I just don’t know how to get you to understand.” Jimin said.

  Jungkook turned around, sauntering to his desk and sitting in the chair. He swung his boots up on the desk and laced his fingers behind his head.

“Jungkook, Woo bin is dead, I can leave now.” Jimin argued.

“Leave!?” Jungkook raged suddenly. “Are you insane? We’re all outlaws now! Let’s just hope we make it to my allies in one piece!” Jungkook yelled and Jimin wanted to cry. He’d forgotten about everything else besides Woo bin’s death. He’d forgotten the revolution that was currently taking over.

“But—” He started pitifully.

“Jimin, until I get our names cleared, you have to understand why I can’t let you off this ship.” Jungkook growled out.

the tension in the air was suffocating.

 “I …” Jimin wanted to scream. He wanted to stay as much as he wanted to leave.

“Oh right, I know, your pride is damaged by me…fuck pride.” Jungkook said bitterly.

 “You think my pride isn’t wounded?!” Jungkook asked rhetorically.

Jimin held still, afraid to move.

He knows Jungkook’s pride is damaged by everything that’d happened and Jimin’s presence in general.

 But Jungkook was doing it to himself. All because he refused to let Jimin go.

Jimin met the other male’s eyes and lifted his hands, in mock surrender.

“You’re right. You’re the captain, Lord Jeon Jungkook. The commands are yours. You make the orders, and I have to obey.” Jimin said.

“Jimin, I don’t mean it like that—” Jungkook’s voice was a warning, a threatening growl; his boots hit the floor and he was back on his feet.

“Please! Don’t.” Jimin lifted his hands up again, and the sudden entreaty in his voice must have registered with the larger male.

“You’ve never hurt me, Jungkook, and you’re tempting, I can’t deny that…but It’s hard for me. Don’t you understand, you big idiot?!” Jimin wanted to throw a temper tantrum.

  Jungkook stared at him with curiosity, but something else he realized had been in the larger males eyes: it was pain.

 He took another step forward, so they were almost touching again, Jimin could feel the strength and heat of Jungkook’s muscular form, he wished he could touch.

“Jungkook” Jimin’s voice was a sob as he backed away.

 “Don’t you understand!? It’s not just my pride at stake! You and I both know you can’t marry me! We’re both men! Jungkook, one day you’ll probably meet a woman, one you like a lot, and it’ll be easier, because you can marry her, and show her off in public, and have c-children! I can’t give you any of that! If we keep doing this, it’ll only be hurting us both! Just let me go! I’m nothing special, you’ll get bored eventually…” Jimin let another weak sob escape as a few tears fell.

“I can’t marry you? I’ll get bored? You’re nothing special?” he asked quietly, taking a last step so that Jimin was crushed into his arms and held.

 Jimin felt the beat of the other male’s heart and the touch of his hands on his hair as he cradled, and then he pulled back, and urged Jimin to sit on the bed.

Jungkook sank to his knees and kissed the palms of Jimin’s hands with gentle admiration.

 “Jimin, why can’t you just love me? You still don’t understand, do you?” he whispered, seeking the answer within jimin’s eyes.

“What?” Jimin murmured in surprise.

“I love you, Park Jimin. I swear, I love you, and will love you for the rest of my life. It’s not going to change.” Jungkook said deeply. The conflict in his dark eyes shifting to emotions that varied.

Tears slid down Jimin’s cheeks. Jungkook lifted a thumb to brush them away. Jimin threw his arms around the larger male’s neck, marveling at the feeling of holding the other close.

Jungkook loved him…

“I hate you, I hate that I can’t resist you,” He whispered to Jungkook.

“I hate that I love you.” Jimin said.

“My little angel…” Jungkook whispered in reply with a slight teasing tone.

Jungkook stared into Jimin’s worry filled eyes and realized he’d never been in such an overwhelming love.

He’d never felt so deeply for someone, and it was another man.

Which made it more real somehow.

“I swear, that I’ll never forget about you, I’ll cherish you, protect you...” Jungkook said with conviction. He meant every word.

He couldn’t lose Jimin. not now, not ever.

Jimin couldn’t speak, afraid he’d ruin the moment, or say something stupid.

  Instead, he shakily removed his smaller fingers from Jungkook’s, and began to open the buttons of the largers shirt, his eyes on the task intently.

Jimin blushed at his own actions, felt the rush of Jungkook’s breath when his fingers touched bare chest…

Jungkook grabbed him and crushed their lips together hungrily, devouring with need and tenderness. He pulled back after a moment and stared at Jimin with predatory intent.

“Little sinful angel suits you better…” Jungkook taunted playfully before leaning down and kissing Jimin again. His tongue parted Jimin’s lips and elicited a moan.

For a long time, they just kissed deeply, holding each other.

 But then finally Jungkook moved back, peeled away his shirt, and Jimin explored the other male’s muscles with pleasure and curiosity. He’d seen it before, but not like this, and not able to appreciate the honed power.

 Jimin trailed his hands to the others drawstring, and delighted in the shudder it caused, the catch of his breath. Longing burned like fire and in Jimin’s lower regions and he quivered.

 Jimin shyly removed the largers pants before exploring the firm muscles there as well.

 He couldn’t stop himself from touching Jungkook. His lips traveled over the others smooth chest and he paused at his hard nipple with interest.

 Jimin grazed it with his teeth, nipping, tasting the salt spray of the ocean. It was too good. His hands and fingers moved down and as Jungkook stood, Jimin slowly lowered the others pants down and knelt to peel them from his strong legs.

 Jimin was surprised by his own boldness as he bit his lip.

“Fuck…” Jungkook’s husky groan touched his heart and thrilled his senses. He felt dizzy with arousal.

“You…fuck…” Jungkook growled out causing Jimin to shudder in excitement and fear.

He’d never realized how much larger Jungkook really was; it was dangerously exciting.

Jungkook broke off with a gasp as he slid his small hands over the others legs, luxuriating in the strength. With innocence and curiosity, he pressed kisses along his path. He nipped slightly at the tightly wired muscles of the largers thighs playfully.

“Jimin.” Jungkook growled out with a predatory warning that sent chills down Jimin’s spine. He bit his lip again.

Jungkook ripped his shirt away and quickly yanked off Jimin’s pants as well.

Then he froze, and abruptly clenched his jaw.

“I want to kill that bastard again!” he cursed. He stared with sadness at the small scars left from Woo Bin’s torture.

“They’re really small, Please, don’t stop…they don’t hurt anymore and the scars are fading.” Jimin sounded almost pleading.

“I don’t want to hurt you—” Jungkook started.

“You won’t, I’m okay, they’re almost gone...” Jimin reasoned and Jungkook seemed to give in.

 Jungkook gently removed Jimin’s underwear, then laid him down on the bed, and Jimin met the other male’s eyes with want, his arms outstretched with willingness.

Jungkook leaned over him and brushed a kiss against the column of his throat.

“Not yet, little angel…” Jungkook whispered mischievously. His hand moved to the juncture of Jimin’s thighs.

Jimin gasped, arching into the touch. Jungkook smiled and continued to stroke the other teasingly. Enjoying the sight of Jimin’s thighs quivering and muscles constricting.

“Jungkook…” Jimin whimpered.

Jungkook reveled in the way the smaller buried his face against him.

“Patience, love…” he murmured.

Jungkook prepared Jimin thoroughly and he felt like he might explode.

 “P-please…Kookie…” Jimin whimpered in desperation as Jungkook long fingers brushed against his sweet spot again. He cried out and tried to remove the hand. He wanted the other inside of him now.

 Jungkook growled at the new nickname and leaned down to kiss Jimin as he removed his slick fingers. He hovered over the smaller male for a few more moments, watching as the others silver hair brushed the pillow while he squirmed. It looked more blonde in this light, and he vaguely wondered if the sun was bleaching the unusual color.

 “Dammit, Jungkook if you don’t get in me, I’m going to— “Jimin threatened but Jungkook decided it was a good time to push in.

 “Going to what?” Jungkook growled as he pumped teasingly.

The smaller gasped and clutched onto his shoulders with pleading eyes.

 “G-going to cry…” Jimin moaned as Jungkook began finding a good rhythm for both-of-them.

 He knew he’d hit the others sweet spot, when Jimin arched into him again, letting out a small cry that suggested helpless pleasure.

 Jungkook kept himself in line with the other male’s prostate, wanting Jimin to feel as much pleasure as possible, and watched the blissed out look on his face.

 Jimin was beautiful in every way.

 He gripped Jimin’s hips and pushed deeper, watching intently as Jimin’s plump lips parted in a silent cry. He could feel the other was getting closer to release and picked up the pace.

 Jimin’s blunt nails clawed down Jungkook’s back, and he marveled in the thought of everyone seeing the marks, when he takes off his shirt on deck.

 “P-please…” Jimin whimpered pitifully and Jungkook will never be able to resist that. The silver (almost blonde?)-haired spit-fire-of-a-small-man…begging him.

 He let Jimin squirm for a while longer before finally reaching down, and pumping the others neglected member.

 Jimin let out a cry at the sensitivity, and shuddered into climax shortly after. Watching Jimin’s face pushed Jungkook over the edge afterwards, and he blinked in surprise because that’d never happened before.

 He stared at Jimin.

“I love you.” He blurted out randomly and Jimin blushed.

“I love you too…” Jimin mumbled looking shy, even though jungkook was still buried to the hilt.

“Think I can make you cum twice?” Jungkook asked teasingly and he didn’t expect the heated look in the smallers eyes.

 “I don’t know, can you?” Jimin challenged with a mischievous smirk that had Jungkook blinking in surprise again.

 “Challenge excepted.” Jungkook growled as he leaned down to kiss the other with renewed vigor.

He’s sure that Jimin’s giggle is the most precious thing in the world.