Gangsta's Paradise

two

"Are you sure it's here?" Jimin's eyes are on the building in front of them, voice low and careful as if someone could ambush them any minute. Yoongi can't deny that the neighbourhood isn't exactly the nicest, but it's better than the shithole he lives in now. Also, who is Jimin to judge anyway?

"Yeah, it's here. It's probably better if I go in alone though," he answers dismissingly, ignoring the way Jimin immediately stiffens.

"You're going to leave me here? Alone?"

Yoongi wants to roll his eyes.

"Don't be a pussy. We are standing here in broad daylight, no one's gonna kidnap you."

Jimin doesn't seem convinced but he stops complaining. It may be because Yoongi isn't very good at hiding his obvious discomfort of standing in front of the worn garage again. Or maybe because his gun in still loaded in the waistband of his jeans.

"Just promise to be quick, okay?" Jimin ends up asking as he turns to look at Yoongi. Yoongi knows the younger boy isn't scared, not really. He doesn't know why he pretends to be though.

"You know I don't make promises," Yoongi says, tone suggesting a deeper meaning to his words. You should know better than to trust me with anything at this point.

"Yeah, how could I forget? Just go already." Jimin is looking away again as he crosses his arms, body language defensive. He's wearing a leatherjacket and tight jeans and Yoongi will almost say that it looks like his work clothes. He will probably get smacked for saying it out loud though.

He decides it's no use trying to discuss it any further and instead steps into the rusty garage, leaving a pouty Jimin behind him. He can hear the faint sound of clanking metal, which indicates he didn't visit the place in vain.

As he walks into the large room, he wishes everything wasn't so goddamn familiar. Yet he recognises every worn furniture and rusty tool laying around on the sticky floor, looking even messier than when he left it. It's not a place made for living but he knows it hasn't stopped it from becoming a home.

And that's when Yoongi sees him; sitting in a cheap chair with his head low so the black locks fall over his face, hiding his eyes. Yoongi feels like a stranger, both to the boy in front of him and to the room he's standing in. It's a sad reality that he's done everything to avoid facing.

"I need your help, Jungkook," he then says before clearing his throat in a weak attempt to hide the lack of confidence in his tone.

Jungkook looks up at the mention of his name, eyes wide as they quickly run over Yoongi's face. He seems to take a moment to swallow the obvious surprise and possible hurt of recognition before going back to rubbing the piece of metal in his hand with an oil-smudged cloth.

Yoongi stands like that for a while, looking around the familiar room as he waits for the other boy to start talking. Beside him there's an old pick-up truck, black paintwork trying to hide the fact that the car is a lost cause. It's definitely Jungkook's work, painted with a detailed hand.

"You need my help? Really?" he suddenly asks, a complacent smile playing on his lips, though not hiding the almost childish curiosity that's lingering in his gaze, "because I remember you specifically telling me to piss off last time we met."

"Listen, no one knows the streets like you do, kid."

Jungkook perks an eyebrow at the subtle compliment but stays quiet for a while, relaxing back into his chair with ease as if it isn't just two pieces of plastic. As if he isn't shitting his pants from the uncomfortableness of seeing Yoongi again.