The sun streamed through the window, casting the room in a serene glow. Another morning in this house. At least there was nobody sat beside your bed today, watching you sleep.
Sighing, you rolled over, prepared to try to go back to sleep.
Brown crescent eyes stared back at you.
"Morning, love." He rasped.
"ARGH!" Reacting on impulse, your feet shot out before you could stop them, throwing Jimin straight out of the bed, and straight onto his (ample) butt.
"Hey! What the heck!?" He clamoured, staring up at you from the floor.
"What - ha! What do you mean 'what the heck'? What are you doing in my bed?" You cawed back incredulously. This guy somehow snuck his way in here, laid down next to you, and now he has the audacity to ask what's going on?
Standing and rubbing his behind, Jimin sniggered down at you. "Jeez, Y/n, I was just coming to wake you up. No need to go full psycho on me." He plonked straight back down on the bed, sending your body mid-air for a moment and knocking the air out of your chest. "Anyway. Now you're awake," he laid the length of his body out straight, tucking his hands behind his head. "I also wanted to tell you how we're going to do things until everything is ready. Because we can't really leave you alone," he continued, sending you an apologetic glance, "Namjoon hyung wants one of us to stay with you at all times. And today, I was free." Beaming, he waited for your response.
"Is.. is Namjoon in charge of you, then?" You asked, setting up a pillow behind your back to lean against as you tried to ignore your racing heartbeat. Jimin gave you a hand, holding it in place as you leant against it.
"Mm." he murmured. "Yeah, he's in charge. But everything we do is a group effort, really. Even though we have our own areas of expertise."
"What do the rest of you do?"
"Hobi hyung and Jungkook are our weapons masters. Although, Hobi is more involved in training and Jungkook in getting new shipments and looking after the weapons themselves." As he leant back again, his shirt slid up, revealing a slither of golden skin adorned with onyx, sharp ink.
Oh.
Oh.
Seeing where your gaze went, he smirked, tilting his head to look at you more clearly. "Y/n, y/n, y/n," he tutted, shaking his head slowly. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare? Are you even listening to me?"
Like a deer caught in headlights, you tore your eyes away from the delicious patch of skin, clearing your throat loudly. "No. I'm listening. I'm listening." Jimin's eyes shrank as his mouth split in a breathtaking grin. His two front teeth were slightly crooked, as if to remind you he was human and not a living, breathing god.
Oh dear. This is a dangerous, dangerous man.
"Then there's Yoongi; he's in charge of intelligence. The guy is a whiz with technology. Taehyung is sort of a chemistry genius. A total nerd," he laughed. "So he takes any drugs we discover on raids and chemically analyses them with his team. We keep all the information in a database, but destroy the drugs safely afterwards. It helps us keep track of new drugs on the market, without ending up stuck with a huge stash ourselves." You nodded, amazed at the fluidity and refinement of their system. "Jin is Namjoon's right hand. The two of them just.. understand each other, so their strategies are flawless when we're planning missions. Ying and yang, you know?"
"And you? How about you?" Jimin's answering smirk made something curl low and warm in your stomach. And you had the sense that you just made a big, big mistake. He leant closer, breath tickling your face.
"Wanna play dress up, Y/n?"
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You sat on the end of Jimin's bed, averting your gaze as clothes rustled and belts clicked behind you. His room was just a few doors down from yours, and was the same size. The decor was different, though; dark wood, dark bedcovers. A TV and a huge wardrobe took up the length of the opposite wall. It smelt good, too. Like vanilla, and...man.
Jesus, Y/n! What are these thoughts? Plagued. You're being plagued.
The initial fear of these 7 men had begun to wear off, leaving in its' place the shy curiosity of a girl raised in isolation from most of the world. Even though you freaked out after finding Jimin in your bed this morning, you found the conversation that followed pleasant. Fun, even. Even if he did make your stomach flutter and your cheeks heat. It was a strange feeling, a new feeling; but not an unwelcome one.
"Almost done." He remarked. You looked toward him automatically, drawn by the sound of his voice.
You shouldn't have looked.
You really shouldn't have looked.
Because if that flash of a tattoo you spied earlier surprised you, his back was worse. Much worse.
Tan skin stretched taut over dips and curves; hardened muscles lining his back and shoulders. There were more tattoos spattered about; two identical, vertical trapeziums facing one another, an unintelligible scrawl you couldn't make out, sweeping lines and streaks of ink. His back told a story; and my god, did you want to read it.
The black and tan patchwork disappeared as he pulled the final piece of his outfit over his head, turning to face you.
"What do you think?"
Your eyes raced to take it all in; the dark navy uniform pulled across his thighs, pinching at his biceps. The golden badge, glistening in the light. The words sprang out at you, bold and artfully etched into the metal.
SEOUL METROPOLITAN POLICE DEPARTMENT
"It looks so.." Jimin watched expectantly, leaning most of his weight on one leg. It looks so hot, you wanted to say. "Real!"
"That's because it is real, Y/n. This is what I do." He struck a pose, drawing a laugh from you. "This is one of the ways we figure out who to..deal with. You know, who is doing what bad things when. I started out in the police," he moved toward the bed, sitting down beside you. "In the narcotics department. Before all this, I mean." He gestured to the room, to the house around you. "It was mainly low-level drug dealers. Then, I got transferred to criminal investigations and serious organised crime. That was where the real bad guys were." You listened raptly, curious to hear how he became part of the group. It didn't seem the place for a police officer. "But we could hardly do anything about them. We didn't have the manpower, nor the money. And everything took so long with all the protocols." His voice became quieter. "The thing is, with huge crime families and gangs, they're just too powerful for the police to keep a reign on. You have to meet fire with fire sometimes."
"So, you joined the others. Taking care of them yourselves." You mused. He nodded in response, gaze meeting yours.
"Taking care of them ourselves." He looked deeply into your eyes, as if trying to figure out what you thought of this - of them. "People are safer because of what we do. I hope you know that." He added faintly.
I think, Jimin, you thought to yourself. I think I do.
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"It looks like it's healing up well," the pretty, dark-haired medic stated, peeling off her latex gloves and dropping them into a nearby bin. She moved back toward you, reaching for the splint she had taken off a few minutes before. "This might hurt a little." She reapplied the support, straightening your wrist out as much as she could without making you burst into tears.
Jimin appeared beside you, hand sweeping gently under your chin to turn your gaze toward him.
"Look at me," he whispered. "Do you want something to bite down on? I don't mind if you use my hand." Thankful for the joke, you let out a laugh and a sniff, holding back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks.
"All done." The medic said, gathering a selection of painkillers in a little white pot on the table beside the bed. "Take these. It's a good idea to use your fingers, or maybe just wiggle them a little from time to time. Keeps the blood flowing." She smiled. Hopping off the bed, you glanced around at the infirmary. It was stark white; like day to the night of the Pit just next door. Eight beds lined the walls at even intervals, and wheeled shelving units stood, stocked-up, at the end of each.
"How often does this room get used?" You wondered aloud, aiming the question at nobody in particular.
"As much as you would expect, I suppose," the medic mused, packing up her supplies into the cupboards at the end of the room. "But there's barely ever more than two or three beds full at any one time. Their jobs are dangerous." She smiled loosely at Jimin, and headed toward the door to usher you out.
"Thank you." You bowed lightly to her as you passed, grateful for her help.
"Thanks, Sara." Jimin closed the door behind you, leading you back through the Pit and toward the elevator. "Dinner will be ready soon I think." He said, pausing as he waited for the door to open. He was back in plainclothes, now, a grey shirt and dark jeans. Taehyung grinned and waved from where he stood in the labs, working with another young man on what looked like water, but was most definitely not.
The elevator quivered to a stop, door shuddering open. Pulling you inside by your good hand, Jimin stopped in the centre of the elevator, smiling down as if he was about to say something.
And then, just as he opened his mouth, a huge group of scientists poured into the elevator, chattering and arguing about some strange new chemical with a name you didn't even want to try to pronounce. You were pushed roughly up against the side of the elevator, and then back into the corner as more and more people flooded in.
It was suddenly loud, and warm in the way it was when there were too many bodies in once space. It was especially warm behind you
Where Jimin stood.
Chest pressed firmly against your back.
You craned around, trying to look up at him, but he bent down to murmur in your ear.
"Cosy, huh?" You laughed nervously, praying that the ride to the top would be short and uneventful.
What a silly wish. What a silly prayer to make.
Because barely 10 seconds from the top, one of the white-coats dropped a container on the floor. Her colleagues sprang back, exclaiming, and pushing you further into the faux police officer wedged flush against your back.
Hands curled tight around your hips as Jimin exhaled roughly, the air unsettling your hair and lifting it to tickle your neck.
"Don't do that, Y/n. Don't move like that."
You froze, heat creeping up your neck and setting your face ablaze.
Oh. My. GOD.
As you scrambled to get a hold on your thoughts, the elevator rumbled to a halt once more and the scientists poured out. It seemed there was multiple floors to the group's underground hideout, not only the Pit on the bottom floor. The scientists headed out into a bright room, laden with large machines.
"That's the analysis lab." Jimin said, breaking the silence that enveloped the elevator. He glanced over to you, flashing a saccharine smile, and hit the screen ahead to send the elevator up another floor. Is he going to pretend nothing just happened?
Jimin began to hum quietly under his breath, glancing around between you and the elevator walls. Like he didn't have a care in the world.
Yes. Yes he is.
Well. Two can play at that game.
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