Namjoon had always been determined to serve justice and uphold law - but when he's assigned to catch the notorious gangster Jungkook, he knew his principles would be put to test.
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The air hung thick with the smell of smoke and rich cologne, a residue of the party that had imploded hours ago. Namjoon, his hands clenched around the steering wheel, felt the weight of the night settle onto his shoulders. He had just witnessed the chaos unfold – his colleagues, with their trigger-happy fingers and blind zeal, had barged into the party, their guns spitting fire and leaving a trail of arrests in their wake.
It didn't make sense. The intel, meticulously gathered over weeks, pointed to a handful of individuals, not the entire room full of businessmen. The file he had found, the one with names and locations, sat beside him – a silent testament to the mission's derailment.
The image of Jungkook, his skin slick with sweat under the flickering lights, flashed through Namjoon's mind. He remembered the way the gangster's eyes had blazed with a reckless energy as he pulled Namjoon into the shadows, the way their bodies had moved together in a whirlwind of lust and whispered promises. It had been a dangerous game, a calculated risk, but Namjoon had played it anyway. In less than a month, Jungkook had become more than just a target.
Jungkook's words, whispered against his skin, echoed in the silence of Namjoon's car – 'Don't fall for me" He had looked into Jungkook's eyes, saw the raw vulnerability beneath the hardened exterior, and felt a tug of something unspoken.
His hand instinctively reached for his gun, the possibility of people still patrolling the mansion was high, even the Boss must have already heard of the operation. His colleagues' actions had almost jeopardised everything. The intel, the connection, the trust he had built - all crumbling under the weight of one reckless assault.
Namjoon turned the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling like a beast awakening. He drove, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors, the night air thick with the scent of exhaust and gasoline. He had never experienced anything like what had happened with Jungkook. The raw passion, the adrenaline, the feeling of being completely consumed.
He pulled into his apartment complex, the familiar security lights casting long shadows. He tried to push the image of Jungkook's smirking lips and the feel of his skilful hands on his skin away, but it was no use. The memory lingered, a taunting ghost in the quiet confines of his apartment.
He stripped off his clothes, the scent of Jungkook's cologne still clinging to his skin, his taste a tangible reminder of the past few hours, a fever dream. He lit a cigarette, the smoke curling around his face, a swirling vortex of anxieties and uncertainties.
The image of Jungkook on his motorbike, disappearing into the night, was etched into his mind. Once they got to the parking lot, he had called out, 'Are you alright?' but the roar of the engine had swallowed his words. The fleeting image of the younger's face, the grimace of pain twisting his features, filled him with a cold dread.
