Present day, Daegu prison
The tension around them is unbearable.
Jimin can feel it and he's certain Yoongi can, too. He's nervously clearing his throat every few minutes and it's infuriating for the both of them.
Jimin knows why they're like this. It's all because of what happened — or rather what didn't happen — that day in the storage room after Yoongi played piano. It's clear that they both wanted it, although Jimin still tries to burn down that thought despite knowing that it keeps rising back from its ashes. He does his best to look the inmate in the eyes, it's what he does with every prisoner. He looks them in the eyes because they're people, he tries to overlook their crimes and whatever sick thoughts they might have, as he finds it dehumanizing to avoid meeting their stares.
Eyes are the windows of the soul. All avoiding a man's eyes does is make him feel soulless.
"So, how are you today?" Jimin forces a smile.
"Good. Did you ask for me?"
"Yes, actually," the therapist declares before opening one of his desk drawers and pulling out a few files he purposely left at the top of the pile. "Your, um... sister sent another visitation form. She'd like to come next Sunday."
Yoongi straightens up his posture and runs his fingers through his now blonde hair, its mint green color having completely faded. Dark brown roots appear atop his forehead when his hand pushes back the fringe from his face. He sighs, annoyed, tired of having to explain himself for the millionth time.
"Look, I appreciate your concern, Doctor Park, but I've been in this prison for eight years, had countless counselors, and I never accepted to sign the fucking form. Showing it to me every time she sends one isn't going to change my mind."
"I don't show it to you every time, Min. This is the tenth form she's sent in just this month and I denied every other one. I'm showing you this to ask you a question," Jimin pauses, staring at Yoongi. "She hasn't stopped coming to the prison every single weekend only to be refused by security. I know you told me not to ask, but... you had such a great relationship with her, I was told that when you first came to the prison you never missed a visitation day with her. Why did you just... suddenly stop?"
Yoongi nervously nibbles on his lower lip. He seems distressed.
"Don't feel pressured to reply if you'd rather not. Take your time," Jimin feels the need to add.
Yoongi straightens up, staring right into Jimin's eyes as he speaks dryly. "I just want her to forget I ever existed."
There's a moment of silence as they stare at each other wordlessly. Yoongi hates the hint of sadness that transpires out of Jimin's expression, the way he can see his heart hurt for him. He always sees those feelings and waits for the day he voices them out. But he never does.
The counselor looks down, exhaling softly as he crosses his arms on the desk, scooting closer.
"I understand. I didn't want to tell you this but all the mail she's been sending can be considered harassment. Which is why it's my job to offer you this option, but I'll let you know I don't agree with this. You can permanently block a person, if you choose to do so I can put you in touch with a lawyer who will get that done for you. If you go through with it, she will be forbidden from visiting, sending mail, calling, and any other kind of contact with—"
"I'll do it," Yoongi interrupts him.
"Min, I really think you should take some time to—"
"I'll do it."
"Yoongi, no!" Jimin suddenly shouts, slamming his fist on the desk and it has Yoongi practically jumping out of his chair like a scared animal.
He watches, wide-eyed, as Jimin flares up in a way he'd never seen before, worry deeply etched in his stare like a curse as he reaches for the inmate's hands and holds them. He seems to realize what he'd just done a tad too late, but doesn't cower away and keeps his hands warmly wrapped around Yoongi's.
"Please just... Yoongi, please, think about it. If you go through with this she also won't be able to be there for the... for the..."
Jimin trails off, hands tightening around his, eyes trained on the older man's deep black irises trying desperately to speak to him without words. He accidentally lets out more than he would've liked to, because he's not reacting like a counselor trying to put some sense into an inmate. He cares, he cares so fucking much it hurts and he feels it in every fiber of his being, he feels his heart and soul beating together in unison at a pace that tears through him from head to toe and it shows.
It shows so much it tips him over the edge and there's nothing but a quietly muttered "fuck" before Jimin's leaning in, lips getting impossibly close to Yoongi's warm mouth, wanting nothing more than to kiss him breathless.
It's not like they imagined, their lips don't crash together in a lust-driven passion. They're just stuck there, both unable to move. Goosebumps quickly litter their skin, and as they stare at each other's eyes, they realize their breaths are coming out in short pants.
It's going to destroy them. They know it.
It's why when Jimin gathers up the strength to lean in a little more, a firm hand on his chest stops him in his tracks. Only then does he see that there's a bitter smile on Yoongi's lips, that he looks so torn it makes something stir in Jimin's chest.
"I think it's kind of funny," the inmate speaks, voice trembling and cracking at every word, "how every single person in this prison is a fucking criminal. There are just people who got caught and people who didn't."
Jimin pauses, still in disbelief of the mistake he was just about to make, but his attention quickly shifts to the words coming out of the inmate's mouth.
"What are you saying?"
"Jiminie... Don't you see it? That male nurse has probably killed more people than the convicted murderers in this prison. The other nurses know there's something going on, and they're keeping their mouths shut. The guards are all Jeon Jungkook's little puppies except for Kim Namjoon, but he himself is no better after he threw me under the bus for his own fucking benefit. I'm not telling you anything about Jung, because I actually believe he might straighten up... That lunch lady? Boy, I've lost count of the times I've seen her spit or even piss in our food. As for you..."
Thin strands of blonde hair fall on Yoongi's eyes as he leans on the desk, finger pointing at Jimin's face, a bitter smile still plastered on his pink lips.
"You are attracted to an inmate."
His finger barely touches the tip of Jimin's nose but it's enough to litter goosebumps across the therapist's skin. Jimin tries to think, does the best he can to find a way out of this, but he just comes to the conclusion that there isn't. He tried to kiss him a minute ago. There's no point in denying it. Jimin just sighs, dark eyes staring at the man before him.
"Attraction isn't a crime. It's a perfectly natural reaction," he simply replies, as academically as possible.
"Maybe," the inmate breathes out before getting out of his seat and leaning even closer, body bent over the wooden desk until his face is all the way across it and merely an inch away from Jimin's face. "But the things you want me to do to you are."
Jimin tries to open his mouth to speak but his breath hitches as Yoongi's hand finds his cheek and his fingertips softly graze the skin, travelling down to his neck, then down the collar of his shirt. He tentatively plays with one of the buttons, rendering the psychiatrist completely immobile. Yoongi's fingers pop a button open to trace his collarbones. Jimin doesn't know what to do, he's digging his nails in the armrest of his desk chair, concealing the best he can the content sighs threatening to cross the threshold of his lips. He inhales sharply, musters up the courage to speak up and tell him to stop and—
"Start that procedure to stop my sister from coming. See you at our next session, Jiminie."
His hands are off the younger man's body and, seconds later, he's out of the office.
He leaves. Just like that.
He leaves, not minding at all the man who stays in the office, mind clouded with arousal, chest heaving with every sharp intake of breath as he desperately tries to chase away the images in his head.
And among all those feelings, he finds indecipherable doubt mingled with sheer confusion as he recalls the things the inmate said about the people in this prison.
Jimin picks up his phone.
Seokjin barges into the nursery.
As the smell of medicine and antiseptics invades his nostrils, he rushes without an ounce of hesitation towards the male nurse and doesn't bother asking before reaching into the pocket of his blouse.
This time, though, the nurse grabs his wrist and stops him.
Seokjin sends him a deadly glare.
"Dohyeon, I don't fucking have time. Give me the keys, I need supplies."
"Why don't you just send your little injured boy to me? You know how I love caring for people," Dohyeon smiles, revealing two rows of perfectly aligned, pearly white teeth.
"Because I'm certain your bank account's already exploding from all the people who probably paid you to inject poison into his veins the second he steps into your office." Seokjin tries and fails to force his hand out of the nurse's grip. "The guy isn't exactly loved by the prison. Now give me the keys to he medicine drawers so I can help him before he fucking dies in my cell!"
The man's still smiling as if Seokjin just told him a joke. It's always been infuriating, the way he always takes things so lightly, how he takes his time and even more so whenever Seokjin has an urgent request.
And this time it seems like he's in the mood to play.
"You haven't paid me last time. Your rich sugar daddies from when you were a whore didn't send you your monthly allowance?"
"Are you fucking shitting me?" Seokjin growls in disbelief. "I just told you a man is dying and all you're thinking of is money?"
"We all have our priorities. You know the deal, sweetheart. Medical supplies don't replace themselves and that shit's expensive."
"I fucking pay you twice the worth of the supplies you give me!"
"And I'd like it to stay that way," the nurse retorts dryly, although thin lips paradoxically stretch into a smile. "Or you can pay like you used to when you first got here..."
Seokjin scrunches up his nose in disgust. "Fuck you."
"It's not like you're not used to it. Wasn't it your job?"
"Yeah. Was. Past tense."
"So you'd do it for money but not to save someone's life? And I thought I was the selfish prick," he snickers, grip around Seokjin's wrist slightly loosening.
"I—" Seokjin trails off. The clock is ticking. Trying to argue with that guy is a waste of time. "You know what? Fine."
Seokjin suddenly pushes Dohyeon up against the counter, pressing his body flush against his. He slips his leg between the nurse's thighs, lightly grazing his crotch. The nurse arches an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised, and lets go of Seokjin's wrist to loosely rest his hands on the latter's waist.
"That wasn't so hard."
Dohyeon isn't unattractive. He's about the same age as Seokjin, tall with a neatly trimmed beard and a muscular body. He's a handsome man, so at first Seokjin didn't care about exchanging sexual favors for medical supplies.
That was until he found out what went on in that cabinet, when one day he looked out the window of his cell and saw Dohyeon on the parking lot with a young woman he recognized as the wife of a famous entertainment show host. The old man was already in his seventies and had a bed saved just for him in the nursery, because he had an extreme heart condition. His wife was a young, attractive woman, and it didn't take a genius to understand the kind of arrangement they had.
So when Seokjin saw Dohyeon on the parking lot with the young wife discreetly handing him cash, he just knew. The old man wasn't in the nursery at that moment.
The next time he had a heart problem and was taken to the infirmary, he never set foot outside of it again. He went into cardiac arrest and he didn't make it.
Seokjin remembers the headline of the newspaper.
"Coins for Culture show host dies at 76 from a heart attack despite nurse's restless attempts to save him."
Despite nurse's restless attempts to save him.
Seokjin doesn't know what restless attempts look like, but he's pretty certain that standing still and watching him die wasn't it, and he's certain that's exactly what Dohyeon did.
And that's also exactly why while Dohyeon relaxes and waits for Seokjin to make him feel good... he makes his move. Seokjin grabs the nurse's jaw and brutally throws his head back so that it collides with the closet behind him hard enough to knock him out, but hopefully not enough to injure him badly. Seokjin catches his body when it starts collapsing and lies him down softly on the floor to avoid him making too much noise and alerting the other nurses.
He exhales in sharp staccato breaths, moving a quickly as he can. In an instant he's grabbing Doheyon's keys and unlocking the drawers to gather what he needs, then he's rushing out of the infirmary towards the cell blocks.
Seokjin finally gets to block B and is met with Jungkook's fury as soon as he steps into his cell.
"What the fuck took you so long?!" Jungkook growls, crouching near the bed where Taehyung lies still.
Seokjin would usually reply just as angrily to defend himself, he wouldn't let anyone speak to him like that, not even Jeon Jungkook. But then he sees how young man's bloody hand is tightly wrapped around Taehyung's, how he's sweating and shivering from head to toe, fear engulfing him whole as he speaks close to Taehyung in a voice softer than a whisper. Seokjin can barely decipher the words "you're gonna be okay".
So Seokjin just says "Sorry," and rushes beside them. "Is he still breathing?"
"Yeah," Seokjin's roommate replies, a hand on Taehyung's chest. "His heart rate's extremely low, though. We need to wake him up and stop the bleeding in the back of his head. He needs to stay conscious."
"Okay, here," Seokjin hands him gauze, bandages, antibiotic creams and painkillers. "This is all I could get."
"It's more than enough. We'll only need the gauze and bandages, gently wake him up and give him some painkillers."
"Shouldn't we clean the wound?" Jungkook asks.
"Absolutely not, the wound is too deep, we shouldn't mess with it. What we need right now is to stop the bleeding," the doctor grabs the gauze, takes it out of its sterile seal and motions Seokjin to help him lift up Taehyung's head, "remove the cloth we put there, it's full of germs. Make him sit up, or all the blood's gonna rush to his brain."
The doctor presses the gauze against the wound and applies light pressure on it to minimize the bleeding. Taehyung's face slightly distorts from pain and the way he groans, although softly, is reassuring to everyone. At least there's a reaction, it means he's still partly conscious, he's with them.
"Come on," Jungkook says, hand gently stroking his thigh and poking it in hopes of getting him to open his eyes. "Come on, wake up. Stay with us."
There's blood and bruises everywhere on Taehyung's body. Jungkook put briefs on him and wrapped him up in a towel, but the image under all of it isn't pretty. Wounds not as deep as the one in his head but still painful, bruises all over his tan skin. The doctor already treated his bruised ribs the best he could. His entire body's on fire, he's in a state of hurt so excruciating he can barely feel the individual wounds and bruises, he just feels like he's combusting as a whole, like the nerves in his body simultaneously send wave after wave of pain.
Still, despite how blurry and unstable everything around him seems, he manages to drag his eyelids back and open his eyes halfway. When his vision finally focuses on something, the first thing he sees is Jungkook's face extremely close to his, eyebrows furrowed and sweat traveling down his skin in thick drops.
It's a simple movement. It's no big deal, usually. But right now, Taehyung swears it takes every fucking fiber in his body to lift up his arm. He can almost count every single muscle required to move his arm, they contract so vigorously it feels like he's trying to move under a giant boulder.
But he does it anyways, he brings his hand up and presses his index finger between Jungkook's eyebrows.
"Don't..."
Jungkook's eyes widen, panic washing over his expression.
"Don't what? Are we hurting you? Are we doing something wrong? Seokjin, tell your roommate to get the fuck off him and—"
Taehyung smiles, "Don't frown like that, you're gonna get all wrinkled and trigger my daddy issues."
Jungkook falls completely silent. He can hear Seokjin and his roommate snort and fight as hard as they can to stop themselves from cackling out loud. He's still got both hands tightly wrapped around Taehyung's hand on the bed, and while Taehyung's lips stretch into an even wider smile — although slightly distorted by pain — the latter's fingers trail down Jungkook's face to cup his cheek.
"You're a fucking asshole," Jungkook breathes out, his shoulders slowly progressing down as all the tension dissipates, his grip around Taehyung's hand relaxing into a softer hold. "I was worried."
"I know. And there's only one way I know to make you relax."
"Pissing me off?" He chuckles.
"Yeah." Taehyung gently strokes Jungkook's cheek as his smile fades to let pain take over.
He's not as dizzy anymore, he feels a little better although slightly nauseous. He does feel his head ringing continuously, but that's not surprising considering the number of violent blows in the head he suffered.
He bites his own lip hard when the doctor starts tightly wrapping the bandages around his head to keep pressure on the wound.
He manages to pick up on a few words in the conversation and sighs in relief when he finds out he won't get stitched up, because for one it is extremely unsafe when it is absolutely impossible to get a sterile environment in the prison to stitch him up and to remove the stitches after the healing process, unless they take him to the infirmary.
But that would be the exact same as murdering him. Another reason is that his wound isn't as deep as expected, there was quite a bit of blood but it didn't crack the skull, which greatly reduces the risks.
Surely, aesthetically speaking, Taehyung isn't all that happy about having a big ass scar on the back of his head, but he's smart enough to know it's not worth the risk of an infection.
"Here, all done," the doctor says.
Seokjin pats his roommate's back. "Thank you so much for your help."
"It's the least I can do. Now you..." The doctor gestures towards Taehyung before frowning in confusion. "What's your name again?"
"Gucci boy," Seokjin and Jungkook simultaneously reply before giving each other a comic stare.
"Wasn't that a nickname?... Oh well, doesn't matter. Try to sleep with your head elevated. Resist the urge to peek. Come find me immediately if any blood soaks through the bandages. If no blood soaks through, come back every two days after dinner to get your bandages changed. I'd go for everyday if I could, but we're kind of short on supplies..."
"I understand." Taehyung nods.
"Good," the doctor smiles. "Now both of you go away before the guards come looking for you here. You were lucky not to meet any on your way here but the moment they find that man in the showers they'll put every block on lockdown."
Jungkook stands up and offers a hand to Taehyung to help him get up. He gladly takes it, somehow managing to get himself up on his feet, although he's practically not touching the ground with Jungkook's strong arms taking on most of his weight.
Moments before the pair leaves the cell, Seokjin's voice halts them in their tracks.
"Jeon!" He calls out, catching Jungkook's attention.
When their eyes meet, the younger man can read all sorts of emotions in Seokjin's expression. There's worry, fear, a hint of hope and an ounce of what he reluctantly recognizes as pity.
"That man in the showers. Did you kill him?"
There's a moment of quiet in which Jungkook seems to weigh his words, brutally hit by a reality he'd been ignoring on purpose. Seokjin is taken aback by the way Jungkook's eyes suddenly soften. For the very first time since he set foot in this prison, Seokjin swears there's something oddly similar to vulnerability in the way Jungkook looks down and stutters as he replies in a shaky voice.
"I... I don't know."
They're lucky enough to already be in their cell by the time the doctor's prediction happens and every other prisoner rushes into their blocks when a lockdown is announced. The metal gate closes up the block after a guard counts the prisoners in block J and declares it as clear.
Taehyung's lying down on the lower bunk bed with Jungkook not leaving his side for a second, watching over him. It reminds him that the younger man was extremely distant and weird in the past two days, he couldn't help but wonder why his mood had suddenly switched so fast again.
"Kook?" He calls, craning his neck to look at his cell mate.
"Yeah?"
"Did I do something wrong? You weren't acting like yourself these days."
There's a moment of heavy silence. Jungkook presses his lips together in a thin line, trying to weigh his words as he thinks thoroughly about what comes out of his mouth next. It could change a lot of things, possibly even ruin some, and he's not sure he's ready for change after everything that happened. He just wants to forget what his brother told him over the phone and pretend he never found out.
So he does just that.
"I was just preoccupied. Business stuff."
"Oh. What is it you do for a living, by the way?"
"My brother and I—"
Before he can finish, there's a familiar voice that intrudes into their bubble and drags them back to reality.
"Jeon Jungkook. Get out," Namjoon commands, stepping into the cell. "I need to talk to your cell mate."
"What for?" Jungkook questions and doesn't budge.
"None of your fucking business. I'm not here to hit on him, you can relax. Now get out."
Jungkook normally wouldn't give in, but when he doesn't know how the situation turned out in the showers, he thought it best not to test Officer Kim's nerves, especially since he doesn't look all that happy.
So he doesn't protest any longer and plants a kiss on Taehyung's lips before leaving the cell. Officer Kim closes the door behind him, isolating himself with Taehyung.
"So it's a date?" Taehyung somehow manages to joke.
"What happened to you?"
The inmate exhales softly, ribs stinging as he does. "I fucked with the wrong guy."
"You've been fucking with the wrong guys ever since you got here, Gucci boy. That's not news to me. Tell me more." Namjoon walks closer, pulls a chair from under the desk and sits down next to the bed.
"Am I gonna get thrown in solitary again? 'Cause last time it was a real pain in the ass spending three days in that shithole without being able to shower."
Namjoon smiles. "Fun fact, you're actually allowed one shower a day when in solitary. You just have to ask for it so that a guard can be present."
The prisoner opens his mouth in absolute shock, but doesn't keep the dramatic effect for too long because his jaw hurts like hell.
"Aw, man, you could've told me! Not cool."
"I thought you really did hurt that Donghyuk kid. Sorry," Namjoon chuckles. "And to answer your question, it depends on what exactly happened in those showers."
"How did you know it was me?"
"Some inmates told me they saw Jungkook rush you out of the showers when I asked them to tell me who they last saw there around the time of the incident," the officer replies, before gesturing towards Taehyung, "also, you look like shit."
"Snitches," Taehyung's laugh reverberates in his entire body and triggers the pain of the now cold bruises that feel even more painful than the initial blow which created them. "Ah, shit. I just... I just did my best to avoid some unwanted dicking, but some guys just won't get a clue."
"He sexually assaulted you?"
"In fancy wording, yes." Taehyung clears his throat and directs his eyes towards the officer. "Is he dead?"
"No. He's critically injured but he's going to be fine."
"Well fuck, should've hit him harder," Taehyung groans.
Namjoon's dimples betray him despite his attempt to conceal the amused smile appearing on his face. "You do know that I'm the head officer and that you're supposed to be making yourself look innocent in my eyes to get out of trouble, right?"
"What's the point? I'm gonna get in trouble anyways."
"Actually no, you're not going to get in trouble for two reasons. One, doctor Park studied your file and assured me that this is certainly a case of self defense, and with that other guy's background, I don't have any trouble believing you didn't beat him up for fun. And two..."
Namjoon scoots closer, bends down to be at Taehyung's level and looks him in the eyes as he speaks in a low, chilling voice.
"I'm not stupid. Considering the state you're in, you're probably not the one who repeatedly crushed that guy's skull against the wall. I'd bet on the idiot standing on the other side of this cell door. But I'm not going to mention that in my report, because unlike you he might get in big trouble. And although I've been dreaming of the opportunity to send that jackass down to solitary, I don't want to punish him for saving someone's life. So you two are getting away with this just this once, but for fuck's sake, learn to stay the hell out of trouble, kid."
Taehyung opens his mouth to protest but quickly shuts it. He juts out his bruised lower lip, nodding slowly.
"You are as smart as they say... and actually kinda cool. I'm impressed."
"I won't be cool for long if you keep making my job harder," Namjoon chuckles. "Now get some rest, I want you to be up on your feet tomorrow morning. I'm exempting you from mandatory classes."
"Thank the holy fucking lord Kim, you are an angel," Taehyung growls and Namjoon won't admit it, but it made him laugh a little. "Why do you need me up in the morning, though?"
"Lee Donghyuk's getting out, and he wants to say goodbye."
The officer's lips stretch into a dimpled smile when he sees stars lighting up in Taehyung's eyes when he hears and processes those words. It's endearingly sweet how genuine and sincere the happiness dripping off him is, and how it seems to erase the pain of the wounds and bruises scattered on his skin, even if it's only for a moment.
It's among that instant of pure, unveiled sensibility that Namjoon realizes something about the inmate's face seems familiar. The smile on his face grows into a confused frown as he silently wonders.
But when Taehyung's shield grows back to block the view, his cocky smile glued to his lips as he winks at Namjoon and says "Looks like that kid really does have a crush on me," the officer shoves that trail of thought into the back of his mind and shakes his head before heading out of the cell.
"You exhaust me, Gucci boy."
The moment the cell door swings open, Namjoon sees an impatient Jungkook rush back into the room without forgetting to shoot him a deadly glare. It makes Namjoon quietly snort laughter as he leaves the block, shaking his head in disbelief.
A few months ago if somebody had told him Jeon Jungkook would be tamed by some pretty boy with a foul mouth, he would have laughed.
There's something extremely familiar about Gucci boy's face, but he can't quite put his finger on it. With time the idea that he might have seen that man somewhere became a certainty, and he wishes he could figure it out because he'd love to know the name of the man who made Jeon Jungkook his puppet.
Behind the closed door of cell J-1, soft sighs slip out of Taehyung's parted lips as Jungkook's lips latch onto the side of his neck in sweet, gentle kisses. The brunet's strong hands roam down his cellmate's stomach and merely brush against his crotch, just enough to have him shivering under his touch.
"Why are you so gentle all of a sudden?" Taehyung teases, hips bucking up to meet his hands.
"Because you're hurt," Jungkook replies, fingers slipping under Taehyung's briefs. "As much as I hate you, I don't wanna have your death on my sentence."
Taehyung chuckles. "Sentence? Don't you mean conscience?"
"No." He nibbles on Taehyung's ear, catching an earring in his mouth as he wraps his hand around his cellmate's half hard member. "I'm not taking more additional years for a jackass like you."
Taehyung's laughter is quickly replaced by soft moans and he allows his eyes to flutter shut, the warmth of arousal engulfing him.
Jungkook works his hand up and down the length at an excruciatingly slow pace. He uses his arm as leverage to push himself up, towering over Taehyung's body to watch him. His wounds and bruises somehow barely take away from his charming features, and he still looks as beautiful as ever as he throws his arm back to hold onto the metal bed frame, body tensing when the pleasure builds up.
"What did Kim want?" Jungkook finds himself asking, although he doesn't really care at the moment, just to detach himself from how tight his chest feels at the sight of the man under him.
"H-He just... told me we wouldn't get in trouble," he lets out a sound of utter bliss, breath accelerating along with Jungkook's movements. "And apparently Donghyukkie's getting released tomorrow morning. He wants me to be there with him. I'm so happy for him..."
Jungkook suddenly stops.
The heat and excitement vanish, replaced by sharp, freezing cold lucidity as the mood drops completely. Taehyung's breath slows down and he tries to buck his hips up, body begging for friction, but then Jungkook's hand comes out of his briefs and it puts a full stop to their brief moment of intimacy. He looks up at the younger man questioningly.
"Why did you stop?"
"I..." Jungkook trails off, and abruptly stands up, "there's something I need to do."
Before Taehyung can say anything else, the brunet is already out of the cell and fishing his phone out of his pocket.
"Hey, Kook—"
"Call it off," Jungkook interrupts his brother, voice full of panic.
There's a moment of silence before the man on the other line replies. "Are you out of your fucking mind? Why are we talking about this over the phone?"
"I said fucking call it off!" Jungkook shouts into the phone, attracting the curious gazes of the inmate's around him.
The attention isn't good. Since the cafeteria incident, some of the fuckers started looking at him funny. Some of them even try to take on some sort of domineering stance around him, with what looks like clear disgust etched onto their expressions. Jungkook wants to knock their teeth in.
Right now, however, after what he did earlier today and with the rage bursting out of him, their stares are wary. They avoid meeting his eyes. He decides to quickly get to a more secluded place before pursuing his phone call.
Jeon Jungkook has never hurt anyone with his own hands before. He always gets the dirty work done by his little guard dogs. Keeps himself clean.
Jungkook looks down at his bloody hand and the bruises on his knuckles from the force of the hits. He doesn't want to see it anymore, so he shoves it into his hair and tries to calm himself by pulling on his own strands.
Perhaps it will redirect the pain he feels in his gut towards his scalp and he will stop feeling so strongly.
"Jungkook, we can't call it off," Junghyun
Tighter.
"Why not?"
"Because he already has it. And he's dropping it tomorrow morning the moment he gets there."
Tighter.
"Can't you find him and tell him to stop?"
"I don't know where he is. I tried to contact him on his phone his afternoon but he isn't responding. I asked Dawson and apparently he hasn't replied to her messages either."
Jungkook feels a couple strands of hair detach from his scalp, sending bursts of sharp pain through his body.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" He growls, ire dripping off his every pore as he throws his phone across the hallway and sees it bounce off the wall to crash on the floor. "Fuck!!"
He crouches down, fists in his hair, hanging his head low as he breathes heavily.
He doesn't know why he's doing this. He doesn't know why it's just a big fucking deal all of a sudden, but the one thing he knows is that the things he feels right now are slowly corroding him from the inside out. He just wants it to stop.
He needs it to stop so bad.
They meet at the same place, and it's almost eerie how absolutely nothing has changed about it.
Same bar, same music, same people.
Same creepy fucking Elvis statue.
Jimin arrives slightly later this time, as he was held up by a last minute session with a particularly depressed prisoner who just needed a shoulder to cry on. As much as he loves his job, it wasn't exactly the best day to snot all over his clothes, and he feels that he might have been a tad too cold with that inmate. He makes a mind note to schedule a meeting with him later to apologize and be a better listener.
Jimin is glad to find Namjoon already sitting at the same table as last time with the exact same beer in his hand and a cigarette between his lips.
He slips into his seat in front of him, which startles the officer for a second before he flashes him a warm, dimpled smile.
Jimin doesn't respond as warmly, though.
"What happened at Min Yoongi's trial?"
No hello. No asking about his day. No ordering a drink. Nothing. Just his cold suspicious stare and a monotonous voice.
Namjoon seems surprised at first, but it isn't long until he lowers his head in shame. His usual straight, proud posture gives way to a slumped back and evasive eyes as he appears to weigh his words.
"So he told you."
"Stop beating around the bush. I need answers."
Namjoon takes a deep drag out of his cigarette and lets the smoke out in a long exhale.
"I was the one who arrested him," Namjoon admits, still avoiding Jimin's intense stare. "I took on the mission from a colleague of mine and replaced him for one night. All I had to do was patrol near the Hwan family home. I only had the instructions and info about the main suspect, nothing much concerning how the trial actually went even though I was vaguely aware from overhearing conversations between coworkers. Long story short, I was unlucky enough to be there on the night Min came to drop the second body."
Jimin listens patiently, holding back his nerves. His stare doesn't shift away from Namjoon, not even for one second. He sees the way the officer presses his lips in a thin line, how his fingertips whiten around his glass as he holds it tighter. He sees it all. The difficulty with which he tries to get the next words out of his mouth.
"When Min dropped the body my first reflex was to point a gun at him and ask him to get the fuck out of the car. I was shaking, I'd never done anything like this before. I'd only ever pointed my gun at moving targets at the shooting range. I was in no way intimidating, he could've gotten away so easily, and yet..."
Namjoon gasps. The invisible collar that guilt wrapped tightly around his throat is slowly constricting him more and more. He's suffocating.
"He got out of the car, silently. He put his hands up, a smile on his face, the sad fucked up kind. I was shitting my pants and he didn't even resist a little bit. He just stayed still, waited for me to put handcuffs around his wrists and then just got in my car. No resistance, no fighting, no insults, nothing. Just a sad smile and a tiny voice asking me to make sure his little sister stays safe."
Jimin knows. He wishes he didn't, and he hopes with every fiber of his being that his speculations are wrong, but he knows what's next. He knows exactly what Namjoon's going to say, because he's seen it too many fucking times.
It's always the same story.
Namjoon gulps down the last sip of his beer and drops his cigarette in the ashtray. Then, finally, he looks at Jimin's face.
"I wanted that fucking promotion. I wanted it so bad I didn't give a shit about what happened to him, I thought it wasn't such a big deal anyways because he was a criminal, a horrible person who brutally murdered two innocent men. So when they called me on the stand to testify, I lied. I told them that there was a struggle, that he tried to take my gun, that he disobeyed me and that he tried to escape. I had no idea what happened with his sister. And that... That's why..."
"That's why his sentence was so heavy," Jimin finishes, mouth agape. "Please tell me you're joking, Kim."
The officer opens his mouth to speak and immediately closes it. He softly shakes his head. Jimin's eyes are burning. He feels them well up with tears and it's infuriating, because even if he's absolutely wrecked, he doesn't want those tears to come out. He swallows them back with all his might.
Namjoon clears his throat. "Look, the moment I found out, I sent that promotion flying and I quit my job to work at this prison. The guilt is fucking killing me, Park, I swear—"
"Clearly it's not killing you enough to make you confess what you did," Jimin spits and his words are sharp needles pricking at Namjoon's skin.
The older man sighs, not even bothering to contradict him. "I have a wife and a child I need to care for. All I can do is try to make the time he has left at the prison as easy as possible. I'm not gonna lie to you, I'm not planning to turn myself in, and nothing will change my mind. He might have done it out of rage, and any one of us probably would've done the same, but he's still a murderer. And the law is the law. He would've gotten a heavy sentence either way."
Jimin snorts, a bitter, nervous laugh coming out of his mouth as he stares at Namjoon in utter disbelief. He can't fucking stand how calm and composed he is, and he also can't fucking stand how he himself isn't at all.
"You know, Kim, I'm gonna tell you something Yoongi told me today. I didn't think much of it at first, but now it makes so much sense." Jimin pushes himself across the table, inching closer to his coworker. The latter doesn't flinch, despite the therapist's black hair almost brushing against his face with such proximity. "Every single person at that prison is a goddamn criminal. There are only those who got caught and those who didn't. And you, Kim Namjoon..."
Jimin jabs his finger at the prison guard's torso, jaw clenched tight as the words seep out of his mouth with such heinous vigor it leaves a bitter, poisonous taste on Namjoon's tongue.
"You are going to live your life haunted by the fact you sent a man to die for a fucking promotion."
___________________
A/N: YOOOOOO IT HAS BEEN A MINUTE
and also yeah, plot twist, but I guess some of you expected it 🤷♀️
But don't worry there are many more to come :))))
So what do you think of the story so far?
Anything you're asking yourself? Any theories you might have?
What do you think about each character? Who's your favorite so far? (in the story I mean, not your bias lol)
Please tell me lots of things, I'm really curious to know what you guys think, it really boosts me and helps me find inspiration...
Lots of love to you, see you next chapter, donc forget the holy water and tissues for many different purposes. ❤️