young spy | jjk

03

A few minutes into the ride towards your home, you looked back to the unresponsive man with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. Either he was simply sleeping, or he was passed out.

The unnerving gunshots echoed until you gained enough distance between you and the clearing, until you were on bigger roads. You prayed that Marcus had obeyed you and kept the two men alive until Yoongi, the friend you had called and briefed, could get Namjoon and Jimin somewhere safe.

They never seemed injured, so hopefully, they could just be dropped off at their homes or something. There was no need for them to come to your place. After all, they were spies working for the government—at least according to Marcus. Just because you had saved them didn't mean that you could assume that they wouldn't go digging around about you. Trust people too quickly, and you end up dead. Or worse.

No, better they stay away.

Jeongguk was the exception. He was injured, and you didn't trust Marcus to let him live.

And sure, you could've dropped him off outside the closest hospital, but you didn't know if that would put him in trouble. Besides, you wanted a chance to talk to him. For some reason, you couldn't bear the thought of parting without letting him know that you weren't actually that bad of a person, and you didn't think his wounds were something you couldn't handle. If it came to it, you were quite skilled with a needle and some thread. And if they turned out to be too much for you, you could always call Yoongi again. He still owed you.

Jeongguk remained unconscious the whole ride back. Might've even been for the better as he was laying uncomfortably on his front with his legs down and hands still restrained behind his back. There wasn't really a painless position for him to rest in, seeing as he had the gashes on both his front and back.

The engine was killed when you arrived at your house, and you were engulfed in silence. It was a beautiful house, remote with no close neighbors, but you found yourself feeling lonely when the only one who occupied a bedroom was you. It was always quiet in there and way too big for you if you were honest. But it was still home.

A sigh escaped you as you observed the body behind you through the rearview mirror. In no way would you be able to carry him inside by yourself. You could try to wake him? No, better if he was unconscious. Assuming he was indeed passed out and wouldn't wake up, you could try to clean his wounds without hurting him. Not to forget, he didn't actually know that you'd been lying about your intentions with him. Perhaps he'd understood from your risky move with your fingers? Or he hadn't and would gladly seize the first opportunity to kill you.

After a few minutes of rummaging through every drawer in your house, you stepped back outside with a small bag containing everything you could've possibly needed. The car had been locked during your absence in case he woke up and tried to make a run for it. That would've only been unnecessary.

Jeongguk was in the exact same position as when you left him, his back, arms, and hands exposed to you as you unlocked the car and turned the inside light on.

Although you didn't doubt that he could've acted up a bit—he was a twenty-two-year-old male, after all—Marcus really had a thing for putting young men in their place. Consider it a weird mid-life crisis, but because he was no longer a super fit and muscular young man, meant that he despised anyone who was. Look at him wrong and bam. A sick individual, really. Who even had a whip for that use?

"Hey, Jeongguk?" you spoke carefully, eyes flickering over his form to detect any sign of him waking up.

"Baby?"

Your eyes widened the moment the term of endearment came out of your mouth. Did you just call him, a complete stranger, 'baby?' Thank god he hadn't heard it. Whew.