Clouds of hazy smoke swirled in lazy trails in Jimin's wake as he strode down the backlit alley, snapping at his heels with phantom claws as if they loathed to let him go. A sliver of suspense snaked down the center of his spine, but he forced himself to keep walking.
There was no other option.
His footsteps slowing as he reached the corner, Jimin cast a sideways glance down both ends of the street before pressing his back against the brick of the building beside him, feeling around his boot for the knife he'd concealed earlier. Not for the first time, he wished for the familiar weight of his gun resting against his back. But he couldn't afford such luxuries.
He was to enter this arena alone.
And this time it wouldn't be only his own life he was fighting for.
Gathering his resolve, Jimin stepped into the street, Yoongi's words echoed in his head as his footfalls fell into rhythm with his heartbeat.
"There's a club on the border on the edge of my territory. It'll be full of all the worst sorts of people - don't trust anyone."
Jimin flashed the bodyguard placed in front of the entrance a slanted smile, a quicksilver thing that he knew from experience brought men to their knees faster than any weapon. The bodyguard stepped aside to let him pass without hesitation.
"Go to the dancefloor. He'll find you."
The crowd parted easily for him as he strode through the room, gliding gracefully through the cacophony of sin as if he were nothing but an extension of the revelry. The air hung thick with the scent of sex and drugs, the devious deeds hidden beneath the neon lights and loud music.
He could feel the eyes sticking to him as he moved, drawn to the flash of silver hair, the heavy makeup accenting every curve of his features, the way his half-buttoned silk shirt exposed inches of honeyed skin dusted in resplendent glitter.
"He has a weakness for pretty things."
And Jimin looked every bit the part.
Now, all that was left to do was wait. Which he was fairly certain wouldn't be too long.
He smiled to himself as he felt a disturbance in the crowd around him and a man whose attire resembled that of the bodyguard out front appeared before him. "Come with me. Mr. An has asked to speak with you."
Dipping his head politely, every bit the docile pet, Jimin followed the man through the sea of people, anticipation pounding through his veins, a beating wardrum straining against his skin. He could feel the moment closing in, a noose forming around his victim's neck. His fingers itched with the promise of the impending violence.
The man led Jimin through the crowd to a ring of luxurious leather couches placed on a slightly raised platform in the back of the room - the perfect spot to observe the entire floor. Sprawled on the couches was a generous helping of what were clearly the most wealthy patrons in attendance, dressed to the nines in their swathes of rainbow colored silk, gold glittering at their necks and wrists. They lounged gracefully, limbs strewn about without care, as girls dripping in gems catered to their every wish, throwing themselves into the pools of poison that gathered at the folds of their serpentine smiles.
And for a second, every bad memory he'd tried to lock away emerged and Jimin felt like he was going to be sick as soon as his eyes met those of the man seated in the middle of the exhibit of debauchery. Jimin didn't need to be told who this man was. It was quite obvious in the way he was carefully reclined, the crisp folds of his suit, the greed in his gaze as he stared down at him.
This was who he'd been sent for.
"Thank you, Juwon," the man said as he waved a dismissive hand toward Jimin's escort, his eyes never straying from Jimin.
Juwon bowed low before turning and heeding the unspoken cue in his boss's eyes, melting into the crowd as easily as he emerged from it, leaving Jimin alone.
He tried to match the face before him with all Yoongi had told him.
An Doyun.
He owned this club, and several ones just like it spread throughout the city. He was a wealthy aristocrat who preferred to let his money do the talking, and a new appearance on the political scene. His reputation was one bathed in sin and blood.
It wasn't uncommon for one of his enemies to simply disappear one day, never to be heard from again. He'd killed every last one of the young boys and girls he'd taken as lovers outside of his marriage once they had grown out of his affections.
If anyone had it coming, it was him.
Jimin forced a smile onto his face as he peeked up through lowered lashes at the man, allowing his muscles to loosen even though every instinct he had was screaming at him to free the knife from his boot and slice his throat right here in front of everyone.
"What's your name, pet?" Doyun asked, his voice sickeningly sweet as he beckoned for Jimin to come closer.
Jimin's breath caught in his chest as he crept close enough for Doyun's outstretched fingers to brush the curve of his jawline, but he didn't dare let his serene expression slip. "Jimin."
By now, they were drawing the attention of the other patrons, their gazes sliding from the scantily-clad girls and boys that were kissing up and down their necks to rest upon Jimin as he folded easily into the man's finger on his chin, sinking to his knees.
In that moment, it was like the last four years of his life never happened. Like he'd never met Jungkook, never become his right hand. He was right back where he started, a mere toy for men like these to play with until they decided they were bored of him. A thing people could rent out and sell like he wasn't just another human being like them.
Silent.
Weak.
Vulnerable.
"Well, Jimin," Doyun purred, a dark edge running beneath the seemingly innocent words, tilting his face closer to him until their noses were mere centimeters apart. "How would you like to get out of here?"
Fighting down the growing nausea in his stomach, Jimin smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."
That made the man grin. Getting to his feet, Doyun tugged Jimin up after him. Jimin pretended to be more interested in checking out the man beside him, but his eyes were surveying the rooms they passed, looking for security cameras, exits. He kept his expression steady as Doyun led him through a backdoor that opened up to a corridor stretching out behind the bright lights of the club, a blood-red velvet carpet lining the hallway. He wondered how much these carpets had seen.
Jimin heard the click of a lock being opened and then he felt hands on his waist, ushering him inside, pressing gently into the soft skin as if in preparation for what was to come. Jimin's heart pounded in his throat as he stepped inside the room, barely getting a chance to look around before Doyun had clamped his other hand on Jimin's hip, steering him towards the bed, his eyes dark as he gazed down at Jimin's body.
"You're such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" he murmured.
Jimin's breath caught in his chest as he felt his knees hit the bed frame and sent the rest of his body tumbling down, Doyun trapping him in against the mattress. His fingers itched to reach for his knife, to have it be over with, but he forced himself to keep his hands by his sides.
Not yet, he told himself. Just a little bit longer.
He shoved down a muffled protest as Doyun reached down and grabbed his wrists sharply, pinning them down to the bed above his head, effectively holding him down, beginning to leave rough kisses to his neck. Jimin closed his eyes and went limp in his arms and let him, even as the kisses turned vicious and it took a noticeable effort not to cry out in pain as lips and teeth alike attacked his neck in a whirlwind of lust and saliva. He bit back a whimper as a particularly harsh bite broke through a layer of skin, sending a thin stream of blood running down the side of his neck.
Jimin did nothing as Doyun moved to brush aside his shirt, exposing the curve of his shoulder as he continued his work. Something loosened in Jimin's chest as he realized he could shift his leg up, bringing that coveted knife and his freedom just a little bit closer.
Doyun didn't seem to notice the movement. His grin was almost feral as he yanked at Jimin's shirt, causing it to haphazardly hang off the younger's shoulders. That was when he grabbed at Jimin's face, melding their faces together as he jammed his tongue down his throat, invading every last bit of Jimin's personal space until he felt like he was choking on it.
He reached further for the knife in his boot.
"You taste so good, beautiful," Doyun growled as he removed his mouth from Jimin's, his hungry eyes traveling the length of his body. "I wonder if you'll feel as good."
When the tip of Jimin's fingers finally brushed against the hilt of the blade, he didn't hesitate to wrap his hand around it, tightening his grip at his side. "Almost as good as this feels."
Not allowing for the words to sink in, Jimin slammed the knife up fast, hoping to catch him unawares in the chest, but he was surprised to find a strong hand held fast on his own, bringing the knife to a stop just centimeters away from piercing Doyun's freshly pressed suit.
"Ah, ah, little one," Doyun sang, clicking his tongue in disappointment. "Do you really think people haven't tried that on me before?"
The smirk Jimin gave him in return was downright devilish. "Do you really think I wouldn't come here without a backup plan?" Without giving the other man any time to throw his guard back up, Jimin crashed their lips together, his tongue making quick work to extract the small pill he'd hidden in the back of his mouth as he brought it to his teeth, cracking open the pill and pushing it into Doyun's mouth.
Doyun shoved back from Jimin hastily, his eyes wide. "What did you-?"
He didn't get the time to finish his sentence before the poison rapidly started to take over his body, collapsing backwards onto the floor as he clawed at his throat, as if he were going to scratch through the skin to remove the broken pill.
The silver-haired boy smiled as he got up from the bed, gazing down at his creation. "You should be careful how you choose your bedmates. Pretty faces often hide deceptive natures."
• • •
Yoongi had been pacing back and forth in his room for the last two hours, glancing at the clock every five seconds like the action alone would be enough to make time move faster.
He should've been back by now.
Yoongi had calculated the time Jimin would need to walk to the club, get inside, draw An's attention, find a place with no witnesses and dispatch of him one and for all again and again, but each time he always came up with a number smaller than the amount that had actually passed.
When Jimin had come to him before he'd left on their agreed upon mission, Yoongi had made sure to give him strict directions. Get in, find him, get him alone, kill him, slip away before anyone notices and meet back at the Cobras' den, where there would be a soldier stationed at the entrance who would lead him to Yoongi to make sure the deal was complete.
That was nearly four hours ago.
And despite himself, Yoongi couldn't stop the questions from slipping through the cracks. What could be taking him so long? Was he injured? Was he lost? Had An gotten the upper hand on him?
Was he dead?
He was on the brink of just marching out there himself when the door behind him was flung open.
"It's done," Jimin said, but Yoongi could hear the exhaustion in his voice.
Yoongi whirled around to face him, prepared to tear into him for taking so goddamn long, but the words died in his throat as soon as he caught a glimpse of him.
His silk shirt was torn, hanging precariously off of his shoulders and exposing far more of his chest than intended, but that wasn't the part that held Yoongi's attention. It was the angry, purpling bruises up and down the smooth skin of his neck and collarbones, the blood smeared just under wounds that looked an awful lot like bite marks. It was the dead look in his eyes that held Yoongi there, like he had just relived a nightmare in real-time.
When Yoongi spoke, his voice was low. "Who did this to you?"
Jimin's gaze dropped to the floor. "I'm fine," he said, but there was no force behind it. No life.
Yoongi shot him an incredulous look as he stalked across the room to Jimin, ignoring the slight flinch that rippled throughout the younger's body as he reached out to delicately press his fingers to places of unmarred skin beneath his jaw, tilting his head softly to the side as he examined the damage.
Jimin did his best to school his face into a carefully blank expression, but it was hard when Yoongi was touching him, his dark eyes flickering over the wounds like just the sight of them caused him pain. For a moment, he almost forgot where he was, who he was talking to. It was easy to forget when he was looking at him like that, without any barriers, without any forced displays of cruelty. When he was being... real.
"You were to get in, dispose of him and get out," Yoongi said, his tone suddenly sharp as he snapped his eyes toward Jimin's. "That was the plan."
Jimin narrowed his gaze in return. "You said you wanted him taken care of. You never specified how."
"Look what he did to you, Jimin!" Yoongi pushed Jimin's head to the side, exposing the injuries. "You were supposed to kill him, not let him use your neck like a chew toy!"
"Forgive me for forgetting that part of the plan while I was out there doing your dirty work for you," Jimin snarled back, a hint of that fire Yoongi saw in his eyes the night everything went down in flames returning as he took a step closer to him. "I didn't know I was selling my free will in addition to my life. Next time I'll try to be more obedient."
Something flashed across Yoongi's face the second those words passed his lips. "I don't need you to be obedient," he snapped, "I need you to be safe."
Jimin hated the hot prickle of tears at the backs of his eyes at the simple words. "Why?" he whispered, his throat threatening to close up. "After all you've done, why do you still seem to care?" He shook his head, the tears starting to fall in earnest even as his temper rose until he was yelling the words. "After you betrayed us? After you killed my best friend? What sick part of you can't let go?"
Yoongi's gaze met his. "I don't know," he said softly.
His eyes flickered down to Jimin's lips and then the next thing they knew they were crashing together.
All thoughts had flown out of his head the second Yoongi's lips met his. He couldn't remember any good reasons he had for pushing him away, not when his hand was on his hip, drawing him closer even as his other cupped Jimin's cheek to get a better angle as their mouths moved together. He already felt dizzy just from the contact.
Jimin knew they shouldn't be doing this even as he kissed him back, but he couldn't find it in him to stop. Not when he kept touching him like that.
Yoongi's hands were so gentle on him, his grip loose as if giving Jimin the opportunity to break free whenever he wished. It was so different from what Jimin had imagined. So different from what he was used to.
"You know," Jimin murmured against Yoongi's lips, a smirk toying at the corner of his mouth as he flashed his gaze up to the elder's, slipping his thumbs in Yoongi's belt loops as he tugged him closer, "you don't have to hold me like I'm made of glass. I can handle it."
Yoongi's expression was impassive as he stared back at him, his hand sliding down Jimin's cheek to curve toward the trauma spelled across his neck. "Are you sure?"
Jimin's smile only sputtered for a second before he smashed his mouth against Yoongi's once more. This time the kiss was fierce, rough, as he hooked an arm around the other boss's neck and yanked him down, parting his lips in a silent request of submission. "Maybe I want you to be rough," he mumbled.
Taken off guard, Yoongi blinked in surprise before his arms slowly came up around the younger of their own accord, roughly pulling him against him. Jimin melted into his guidance willingly, allowing him to back him up against the nearest wall, pinning him there with his body. Lines of fire erupted across Jimin's skin everywhere Yoongi touched him, forming a path from his face down his arms to his waist, as their mouths slid together, saying everything they would never admit to each other.
Before Jimin could stop himself, his hands were unbuttoning the front of Yoongi's shirt, tossing it to the floor. All too eager to follow his example, Yoongi pulled Jimin's up over his head and threw it down, bending down to scoop the smaller up into his arms as Jimin locked his legs around Yoongi's waist, tangling his fingers in his hair to hold him closer.
Jimin couldn't get enough. Every touch only made him want it more.
As if he could read his mind, Yoongi stumbled over toward the bed. Distantly, Jimin could feel his back hit the mattress as he arched up against the elder, dragging him down onto the bed after him. Yoongi gladly fell into the contact, letting Jimin flip them both over so that he was straddling his hips, his hands twisting in Jimin's hair, sliding down his back curiously. Jimin leaned in to kiss a line across the soft skin along the underside of his jaw, his lips traveling down to Yoongi's bare stomach as his fingers fumbled to undo his belt, encouraged to keep going by Yoongi's sharp intakes of breath every time he touched a sensitive piece of skin.
"This is such a bad idea," Yoongi breathed, helping Jimin as he tried to kick off the older's pants. Jimin was quick to remove his own, tossing them both to the floor.
"Since when did you care about what was a bad idea?" Jimin said as he covered his mouth with his own again, silencing him.
Yoongi ran his tongue along the seam of Jimin's lips, as if asking for permission. Jimin obliged, opening his mouth as Yoongi slipped his tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss, anchoring a finger behind Jimin's ear. A soft, pleased hum escaped Jimin as he gave into the kiss, allowing his eyes to flutter shut as his hands slowly slid over Yoongi's skin. Jimin could feel the other boy shudder beneath him as he ran his hands up his torso, pressing closer to him, erasing every centimeter of space between them until he felt like they were five seconds from molding into one.
All the protests that lingered in the back of his mind dissipated with every passing second he spent in his arms.
His gang. His reputation. His pride.
Jungkook.
Taehyung.
They all slowly began to fade away.
He'd known right from the start that Min Yoongi was going to be the death of him. From the moment he'd first crossed paths with the black-haired boy all those years ago, he knew there would be no going back.
Maybe it was the faint smirk that danced across his face when their eyes had met in that back alley, or the way his onyx eyes stared him down with a sort of dark intensity that Jimin couldn't've helped but been drawn to like a moth to a flame.
He'd never met anyone quite like him before.
Maybe they had spent every second of every day since then hurtling toward this conclusion, every word or look exchanged between the two of them ultimately meant to bring them here.
Or maybe Jimin was just making excuses again.
• • •
Hi guys! I hope you've all had a wonderful holiday season and a happy new year!
If you're interested, I've just published a new story (all parts are out now)! I would love it if you would check it out! <3
Have a great rest of your week! :)