FACT:
Arctic foxes sometimes follow polar bears around when food becomes scarce..
In Jimin’s case, he’s learned to sulk around Jin or Yoongi until they’re forced to cook for him
“I said I got it,” Namjoon grumbled, lightly swatting your hands away until you were forced to take a step back.
Huffing irritation out his nostrils, he continued his silent struggle of fastening the last of the buttons to his cyan dress shirt with bruised, swollen knuckles. The multiple splits on his dominant hand—three to be precise—caused him extra trouble in bending his fingers around the plastic disc. The healing flesh pulling and reddening in what you could only imagine to be stinging pain.
You stood and watched in a fret, not wasting a second when the final white button was secured before you were reaching out to fix his collar and smooth the wrinkles across his shoulders; your fingers combing over the bends and curves of the soft material in a comforting pet, rather than a mundane task.
Taken aback, Namjoon lifted his shoulders and elbows to shake you off with muttered, exasperated complaints in his throat, only stopping when his protests turned into an agonized groan as he clutched at his broken ribs.
“Joon,” you whimpered, clutching at his sleeve in helpless agitation. “Are you okay? See, I knew they released you guys too soon.. Barely a day and a half was not enough.”
You thought back to the early morning hours when you were brought into their hospital room. Bandaged up, bruised, and swollen, Namjoon and Taehyung rested in their beds, doped up on painkillers. Namjoon was mostly coherent, grunting in pain as he attempted to sit up upon your arrival, the stale sheets protesting under the weight of his shifting body.
Taehyung on the other hand lay unconscious with a cold pack laying over his features. They had warned you he wouldn’t be awake for a while, but it was still frightening to see your usually feisty, fiery tiger limp and helpless in a hospital bed once again. At least this time it was an actual bed and he wasn't bound.
The creaking of buckling wood pulled your attention over to the tiger in question as he struggled to roll over in his bunk with a lazy rumble in his chest. He had been like that since the afternoon you brought them back to the ski lodge. You had all done your best to sleep off the stress as soon as you arrived, some better than others, but you really wished Namjoon would take it easy. You were thankful Tae wasn’t being stubborn about it.
“TaeTae, are you in pain?” You cooed, shuffling to the side of his bed where you had been making your rounds since they'd been released. “Is it time for another dose of your meds?” Well, more like swaddling and suffocating them, but you couldn’t help it and you didn’t care how much they fought you about it.
Taehyung responded with a light rumble when you pulled his blanket higher over his shoulder, the growl dying off into a broken motorcycle sound the second you brushed back his bangs from his forehead and replaced his ice pack back onto his cheek.
“If you keep babying ‘em, they’re gonna get spoiled,” Jin admonished from his bunk across the room, his attempt at a playful tone only coming across solemn and bitter.
“I think we’re past that. That one’s been living his best life,” Yoongi commented after Jimin had whined for you to come help him next.
“Noona~” Jimin whined again when you didn’t pull away from Tae, watching the difficult breathing under his blankets with concern before you made your way to your pouty arctic fox. “Help me,” Jimin pleaded, his normal sweet tone so lacquered with extra honey and sugar that it could put you in a diabetic coma.
“Jimin,” you began, keeping your eyes level with his baby blues that sparkled like a sinner who cheated the devil, rather than on the exposed skin of his shoulder and chest, left bare by his half-assed attempt at putting on his turtleneck. “What are you doing?”
“It keeps getting twisted.” His pretty bow lips pursed, his naked shoulder shrugging while the other that had most of the fuzzy fabric bunched up, wiggled like a pouting toddler.
“You know how shirts work,” you quipped without much energy, but reached out to help untangle the mess he’d put himself in, holding open the collar for his head, taking extra caution to mind his fluffy ears when he pushed himself through. You focused on guiding his hand and arm through the sleeve after you had the wool fabric folded down nicely around his neck.
When you’d grasped the sides to tug the sweater down his torso he stepped flush against you in a gentle embrace, hugging you around your shoulders while his face buried in your hair to chitter happily, scenting your tresses and ruining the style you’d spent almost an hour watching tutorials to recreate.
“Jimin~” You started to scold, but stopped yourself, giving a light yank to the back of the super soft fabric with both hands so that the sweater nestled in place on his hips before returning the hug with a sigh, allowing him to scent you at the detriment of your braided bun.
From over Jimin’s shoulder when he bent over to better access your neck, your vision shifted to Jungkook who had made himself at home in front of the mirror. There had been a shift in his demeanor since the fight that you couldn’t pinpoint, and you couldn’t decide if it meant good or bad when it came to your bunny, but you couldn’t help but be concerned.
“How you feeling bun?” A question you’d probably asked at least eighty times by that point.
His warm, chocolatey brown ears stood at the call of your voice, eyes in his reflection floating from staring at his face over to quickly find your image with a fond chuckle that filled his chest. “I thought I told you the first five thousand times,” he teased. “I’m fine, noona.” He was quiet, still seeming in shock, but there was something there that wasn’t before.
You stared in awe at your bunny, observing the way he flopped back his ears with one hand once they collapsed back into his face, pushing away his bangs in the process before picking out strands he wanted to remain along his forehead with just his pinky nail. Just standing there looking damn good in a black rib-knit crewneck, the bagginess accentuating his triangular shape from his shoulders to that tiny waist. It wasn’t what he was wearing though, it was that newfound self-assurance that seemed to settle into his shoulders. A calm confidence that didn’t exist before, even as his eyes carried the heavy weight of the room in them.
Squeezing your eyes closed for a moment to collect yourself, you finally pried yourself away from Jimin’s hold to fix up your hair, earning an uncharacteristic nip to your neck from the fox. Though it stung, you barely perceived the pain, too numb from everything going on. You weren’t in the clear yet, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t be okay until you were.
“As much as I don’t want to do this tonight..” you breathed, chest tight at the prospect of facing your family. “Whoever s— did.. This..” you swallowed, glancing at the marks marring Jimin’s otherwise perfect skin. “They’re still here and they’ll most likely be at the party. So let’s just— just get through this, okay? Everyone ready?”
“Let's get this over with,” Jin groused, scratching behind his round ear before adjusting the sleeves to his puffed out fisherman sweater, the poor thing stretched to its limit after Seokjin shoved it over not two but three other pullovers. So much so that the purple color of the previous article of clothing could virtually be seen through the extended yellow fibers.
“Taehyung, are you positive you’ll be okay by yourself? I don’t like the thought of leaving you alone,” you questioned for the upteenth time as you finished adjusting your hair.
“I can stay with him if it’ll make you feel better,” Hoseok offered, his kindness instantly rejected by the tiger spitting out a blood curdling hiss. “O-Or maybe not?”
“Taehyung,” you gently scolded, repositioning his blanket on the shoulder that had been knocked free from the jerk of his body, his back still stubbornly turned to the room as he slunk lower in the mattress. “I really would feel better if someone was here with you.”
“Nht’im,” your tiger grumbled, his ear flicking twice in irritability as he huffed.
“Huh?” You leaned in to hear him better, steadying yourself by resting your hands on his arm where you adjusted the blanket at his hip.
You nearly let loose a scream as you were jerked until you were laying over the tiger, his wrapped hand clutching your wrist as he pulled you into a head bump over his shoulder. You moved to stand until you caught his eyes, realizing all the anger that had burned in them had lost their fuel. He seemed inconsolable.. Your fierce and ferocious predator suddenly looking so small and heartbroken under your shadow, it made you stop your movements and gently bump your forehead back into his.
“Not him ,” he repeated, voice broken. Then with a gruff exhale his eyes slid shut, hand finding its way into your hair to keep you in place against his head with locked fingers weaving themselves in the strands as he breathed you in. His next exhale was unsteady, filling your chest with a wrenching ache.
“I’ll stay,” Namjoon announced, already walking to his bed before you could shoot the idea down.
“Uh- what?” You shuffled, trying to turn a frown in Joon's direction though Tae wouldn’t let you budge an inch. “I told you I’d need your help at the party. If something happens—”
The lion cut you off with a snarl, his growl becoming increasingly louder until it suddenly died off with him holding his side, licking his parched lips while furrowing his brow. “Stop acting like we’re incapable of taking care of ourselves. We’re grown men that don’t need babied—” He paused, glaring deadpan at Jimin who had crossed his arms in disagreement. “Except for that one.. But we can handle ourselves, if you haven’t noticed.”
“It might be better this way,” Yoongi added with a pop of his lips, something he only did when he thought he was being the only logical one. “Your family won’t react well to his appearance right now.”
When you couldn’t say anything in response, Joon continued the long task of unbuttoning his shirt, easing down on the edge of his bunk since it would take awhile. Your gaze flicked back to Taehyung’s bruised face next to yours, the swelling just barely beginning to calm down. You waited for his eyes to open. When they didn’t, you sighed in resignation. “Is it ok if it’s Joon?”
A nod.
“Do you want us to bring you back some food?”
A nod.
“Need anything before I leave?”
Head shake.
“Then, we’re going to go. Can I stand up now?” You lightly placed your hand on his that clasped your hair, unsure if you would need to pry his fingers or if he was going to freely release.
His hand flexed beneath yours, pulling you into another, firmer head bump. You froze, anticipating whether it was okay to move until, with a tentative slowness, the hold in your hair loosened as his fingers began to smooth down to your neck. The tiger leaned up with an inaudible grunt, the breath fanning over your cheeks. You leaned in, meeting him halfway.
“Come back,” he pleaded in a whisper against your ear, making you frown.
What did that mean?
“Always,” you whispered back, patting his thigh as he lowered himself down to roll towards the wall again.
“No.. hurry,” he sighed, ears drooping into the matted waves of hair that surrounded them. Something shattered in your soul at the sight.
All you wanted to do was wrap yourself around him and shield him until his newfound weakness was replaced by the cocky passion and self assurance he normally maintained.
“Can we go?” Yoongi groaned, leaning against the door beside Jin, holding the humble gift bags you and your group had gotten from the mall before this whole shit-show of a trip began.
“Y-Yeah,” you stammered as you stood, casting one last anxiety-filled peek to Tae and Joon before following the others closely out the door.
Your skin prickled under your wooly cardigan, the fabric making you itch as you adjusted your winter-blue dinner dress. Clanking of dishes and the thin, empty sounds of humorless laughter rose over the distant christmas music as you approached the doors decorated with gold and red tassels. In the center was a dry erase notice board with trees and snowmen drawn all over with the words, ‘Private party in progress’ scrawled in red across the center.
You swallowed hard, not quite dislodging the oversized frog that threatened to cut your breathing. “Okay,” you breathed, glancing over your shoulder at your group, all dashingly dressed to impress. You wished you could have spent more time on their hair and mannerisms, but it was what it was. Tonight, you weren’t focused on your family anyway. “Remember to stick together in your teams. Don’t wander off alone or leave this room.”
Your teeth chattered a little while you talked, but you ignored it, making sure to remain firm to accept no argument. Something that might’ve been necessary any other night. Your group’s handsome features were all pinched in a seriousness that was rare for them.
You were all feeling the pressure of the night, knowing full well that you were all potentially in danger, and whoever was responsible was going to possibly be at the dinner.
“You can trust us,” Hoseok assured you, his voice soft but solid, a rock in your raging river.
Your eyes met until the throbbing in your chest forced you to look away. You would just have to address that guilt at a later time.
“Miss?” The staff member greeted, holding up her ipad with an awkward but professional smile. She was a homely girl with russet hair and an accent that gave away her foreign origin. You felt bad for her that she had to be on the doors for this event. “May I have your name for the guest list?”
You nodded politely and gave your name, waiting for her to mark it down before you took Jimin’s hand in yours with a pointed tug. “They’re all with me as well.”
The girl’s eyes darted around in mental panic, stuck between needing to do her job and not pissing off a patron until you gave her the reprieve she needed.
“It’s my parent’s gift exchange party,” you explained.
She checked your name once more, then sighed with relief that she wouldn’t be getting fired that night before she stepped to the side, opening the door for you. “Of course, please enjoy.”
The noises intensified as you crossed the threshold and you clutched Jimin’s hand like a lifeline, already beginning to sweat.
“Can we go eat?” Jungkook quietly asked, taking your free hand before you could reach up to chew your thumb.
“We’ll be over here,” Jin pointed out a pool table that had been a standard for the rec room, but moved aside for the party. Hobi followed the cheetah to it.
Before you could call to them to be on their best behavior, ie. don’t get kidnapped, another voice cuts you off. “Y/n, glad you guys could make it.”
You had to take a couple deep breaths before forcing the friendly smile, even as you gripped your hybrids’ hands tighter. “Addilyn, hi.”
Your cousin and her friends were glamorous in the Christmas atmosphere, their dresses sparkling like diamonds while their hair glistened. You knew what—or rather, who—they were after, and it made you nauseous. Already, their eyes roamed Jungkook and Jimin, pretending to be oblivious to your joined hands.
“Hello there,” Addilyn commented, eyes lit up by the strung lights.
Jungkook shifted shyly under their scrutiny, reaching up to touch up the ponytail you had helped put his hair into. Meanwhile, Jimin beamed at the compliments given, his sly fox ears doing their little happy dance they did whenever he was satisfied with something.
Rolling your eyes, you opened your mouth to tell them to go fuck off, blinking when you heard a certain husky voice instead. “It’s an open bar, right?” Yoongi interrupted, dark, marble eyes shining with intelligence as he stepped between you, passing the gifts off to Jimin.
“Huh? Uh.. yeah?” You blinked again, glancing over his shoulder to the two visibly irritated women then back to the sly wolf.
“Cool,” Yoongi grunted, jabbing his thumb in the direction of fantastically displayed bottles that looked too expensive to be free. “I’ll be there.”
You pressed your lips together in irritation that he was already forgetting your rules. “We’re supposed to be in teams—”
“I’ll go,” Jungkook offered, already releasing your hand to step up to Yoongi, making you both stare in confused shock.
A curious grin crawled onto Jungkook’s features, his ears perked up into a stance as he crossed his arms and stood a bit taller. Was he actually.. Excited?
You expected Yoongi to refuse. In fact, you were hoping he would so you wouldn’t have to say no and be the bad guy. Especially after the last time he let Jimin get shitfaced, but he stunned you speechless by clamping his mouth shut with an audible snap then nodding his head a little too enthusiastically. “I’ll teach you how to really drink," he boasted, lips subtly curled into one of someone trying to show off.
You sputtered, not even believing what reality you had apparently fallen into. “I don’t think—” You desperately glanced between the rabbit and wolf, hoping for any indication that they were joking. “Kookie, I thought you were hungry?”
“Later, noona,” Jungkook grinned a bigger bunny smile, tilting his head toward Yoongi. “I want to drink with hyung.” How could you resist that smile paired with those words?
You eyed Yoongi and no sooner had you sighed a, “fine,” than the wolf was already clapping a hand onto the bunny’s back, leading the larger male toward the bar talking about irish car bombs and whiskey, leaving the huffing women with you and Jimin stunned in their wake.
“Well..” Your cousin and her friend shook off their frustrations, masking their ugliness with pretty smiles and flirty hair flips. “Mind if we borrow this one?” Addilyn didn’t wait for an answer before sauntering up to your fox.
“Noona, can I—”
“No,” you ground out, the word cold on your tongue as you jerked the male closer to your side by his sleeve. “You’re staying attached to me all night tonight.”
“Oh?” Jimin purred, sounding a little too enthusiastic as he allowed you to pull him through the crowd towards the gift table with ease. Almost too easily in fact, which had you taking curious glances at the fox every couple of seconds while you aligned your gifts with the other boxes and bags off to the side of the room.
The cunning hybrid was watching the room with narrowed eyes, his ear flicking in your direction until he finally turned to face you, his expression softening to a crescent moon smirk as his fingers pushed back his fringe. "You're staring~” He hummed in half-hearted teasing. “Hmm.. say noona, they'll be okay if we slip away for a second, right? As long as they don't realize we're gone?"
"Eh? Why?" You had just set the last bag, squeezing it between two silver wrapped boxes so it could fit snugly on the table without falling off.
"I need to talk to you, and I can't focus here. Too many smells. Sounds. Just too much." His ears vanished into his platinum tresses, the smile that graced his beautiful features fallen to a frown.
Glancing around, you hesitantly nodded. You supposed if he needed to talk, a couple minutes wouldn’t hurt. "I think we could go out for a few minutes..” you mused, pursing your lips as you scanned the room one last time.
Jungkook and Yoongi were sitting at the bar, talking amongst themselves while sipping on old fashioned tumblers, and Hobi and Jin were contently playing with the pool table, too distracted to pay any mind to the patrons surrounding them. Lastly, you glanced at where your parents were fraternizing with their guests.
“Okay, keep your ears tuned for any announcements or trouble.”
Jimin took your hand into his sweater paw, gently pulling you in the direction of the terrace, slipping past a sign that read, ‘staff only’ and out through the sliding doors into the cold night air.
As soon as you were outside, he released your hand to lean onto the wooden railing and look out over the horizon. It took moments for you to realize he was clutching the frame with white knuckles, taking deep, labored breaths.
"What's wrong with my tender-heart? Everything alright?" Your brows furrowed as you placed your hand against his shoulder blade, rubbing soothing circles as his back began to quiver.
When a sniffle wrenched through him, you couldn’t keep yourself from wrapping your arms around his thin waist, pressing your cheek into his back while your hands bunched at his belly; the material of his sweater tickling your nose.
"I'm sorry," his voice cracked before he had to clear it to repeat himself. Though it didn’t make much difference. He was barely keeping it together.
"For what? You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”
"Everything. It's my fault we got in the mess," he sniffed again, gently taking your hands in his so he could turn in your arms and embrace you. “I just want to be good, noona.” His head fell, forehead pressing dejectedly into your shoulder with a shuddering exhale. "I really do try."
“Jiminie~” You whimpered to his tears, grasping at him, looking for any way to shield him from his own pain. To protect him from the cruel world that he was too sweet for. “It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have—” You had to swallow the sob that threatened to cut you off. “I shouldn’t have left you boys alone here.. It’s the terrible people who mistreat you for money or pleasure at innocent creatures’ expense. Corporations like KEY, and the disgusting people who support them that are bad, not you.” You leaned back, clasping his cheeks to brush your thumbs through his trail of tears, staring into his deep blue eyes. “You are good. You’re too good for this world.”
Slowly, he lowered his head to yours, brushing his nose to yours in an eskimo kiss as a small smile tugged at his lips; his fingers absently stroking comforting brushes through your dress.
“I want to be good.. For you too.” His eyes were like stars, glittering where the lights shined, rivaling that of the sky above you.
You were about to ask him what he meant when a man cleared his throat, startling you apart. Heart hammering in your ears, you turned toward the door, expecting either your father whom you weren’t ready to face, or a member of staff, about to be in trouble for being somewhere you shouldn’t have been.
In the door with one hand pocketed in a navy pin suit while another, tattooed one held up a pack of mini cigars and a lighter, stood someone worse than staff or your parents.
“Sorry if I’m interrupting. Vices, you know,” he chuckled, causing the sides of his slicked back hair to fall into his face.
Blood running cold, you clenched your teeth. A fury you didn’t know had been boiling up inside of you rose to the surface, spilling over before you could think better of it. “ You ,” you pointed accusingly, starting for the man who measured you with a wary glare.
Jimin had to catch you by the shoulder of your cardigan to keep you from pouncing at the guy as he took a cautious step back. “Excuse me?”
“Okay sleazeball, the gig is up! Stop right there mister,” you shouted, squirming to brush Jimin off.
"Uh, what?" Mr. Neck tattoos laughed, black eyes incredulous as they darted between you and your fox for information. "What are we, in some 1980's gangster movie? I don’t know what you want, but I don’t like this approach."
Jimin growled, stalking towards the tattooed man with hairs on his ears and tail raised as soon as you let up, making the guy take several more precautionary steps backwards until he was pressed to the far wall of the hallway with Jimin blocking the opposite exit.
“I don’t know who the hell you are or your relation to my father, but I know you’re one of the lowlifes that run that awful place,” you barked, hands curling into fists. “Just admit it. Your friend already gave you up.”
The sleazy guy blinked in thought, scratching at the ink on his neck before pocketing both his hands, deciding he wasn’t going to get to smoke. He was too calm. “What awful place?”
"Don't play dumb," you growled. “The ring." "The fucking fighting ring,” you and Jimin both snapped at the same time.
The guy let out a shocked chuckle that was more of a breath than anything, the sound cutting short as Jimin grabbed him by the base of his tie. Jimin’s face was contorted red with animalistic rage, a look you’d only seen a couple times before. One you wouldn’t admit to him that scared you.
“Where you had us taken after your minions abducted us. Where your shitty friend forced my packmate to fight near to death while bids were being made for my ownership as I was being fucked with in the back!” Each word was spat with more venom and all his bottled rage until you and the tattooed man were stunned to silence. “ That one.”
The man’s serene mask fell as his face lost its color. With a curse, his eyes bounced around Jimin’s face with an emotion you couldn’t discern, but you moved closer to Jimin just in case.
His jaw set, deep in thought before a new emotion filled his black eyes. A smoky fire that burned behind the inky color. “So you’re telling me.. You were there that night? You were abducted by Diadeal and walked away with your original owner? You saw their faces?”
Uncomfortable with the look he was giving Jimin, you pulled your fox by his arm, moving your body between his and the man who visibly relaxed, fixing his suit tie. “What’re you getting at?”
“You’re right,” he stated matter-of-factly, pulling his cigars back out before placing one of the little brown sticks between pinched lips. “You don’t know who I am or my affiliation with your father, so let me explain as much as I can.”
You watched as the man inched around you and Jimin, making his way outside where he could light up while you maneuvered to keep between the two males, brows knitted. “Go on..?”
With a puff that filled the air with sickly sweet smoke, the man took up post where Jimin had stood before. Then, he got to explaining.