<HORNS>|| BTS x Jungkook ~Mafia AU~

Best friends?

"Master Jungkook, Mr Jeon is asking when you'll be ready."

"Yaa fuck off Namjoon-ah..."

The raven haired boy took a long drag from the blunt and jerked his head back, eyes rolling white for a good couple of seconds as the high hit him once more. Wisps of opaque clouds drifting around, blinds still drawn and the lavish room deathly dark, refusing to let any sunshine in was the perfect way to begin a new morning.

"Master I'm next to you..." The blonde advisor replied drowsily. He too was high as fuck as Jungkook rolled to the side of his huge fluffy bed to face Namjoon.

"Holy cow you are next to me...you're so loyal Joonie, d'ya know that...? Didn't anyone tell you how cute you are?"

"Aish master...some girls do...but then I fuck the thought out of them as quick as it came...came! I always have them saying that."

"You...you naughty boy!" Jungkook roared, the sound of his laughter echoing through each open en-suite door of his room.

The guard sent to fetch Jungkook for Woobin's funeral checked his watch and gulped. It was only 11 am and the funeral was at noon.

He looked up to the two bodies laying flat on their backs, smoke trailing out of their mouths. He knew they'd be late and this would be bad. Bad for him, bad for them, bad for everyone.

"Please Master, you will be late for the funeral and-"

He quickly ducked as a huge cushion was hurled in his direction.

"Fuck off!"

"But Master-"

"I SAID FUCK OFF DAMMIT!" Jungkook howled as Namjoon quickly scuttled up, movements slurred but more awake than before.

A deep bow and apology later, they were left alone.

The youngest Jeon curled his fists tight, ground his teeth and pressed his temples. Clicking some buttons on a bedside remote, the sunshine came seeping in, blinds came undone and windows opened to let the smoke out.

Coughing, he turned to Namjoon, "Get ready."

Bowing, "Yes master. Your suit is on the first hanger in that closet," he pointed to a door before shaking his head and pointing to the correct one.

And with nothing more said, the reminder of his elder brother's official goodbye from this world occupied Jungkook's thoughts. Staring in a body length mirror, he analysed his black Gucci suit before fixing his hair and lining his eyes. But as he pocketed his phone and sniffed his nose, memories of Woobin were invading his mind.

"...This way master," a six foot tall guard bowed, shades on and wires curling down.

"Did you get the ones who ran away?" Jungkook stopped in the porch, fiddling with his tie and waiting for Namjoon.

"The ones who ran away, master?"

Grinding his teeth, "They were supposed to protect Woobin till they died and they ran away at my first bullet. Have you found them?" He darted cold eyes up to the guard who stepped back ever so slightly.

"W-we are looking for them master," he stuttered, afraid of Jungkook's reaction as he had every right to be.

The boy had tortured and killed dozens of people since Woobin's death, mainly police officers who tried questioning any of his men for speeding or drink driving. Jungkook had them all lowered to his torture chambers whilst he hog tied and whipped them with blades until they couldn't scream any more.

Just as anger was flooding his veins, Namjoon came down dressed in funeral attire as he looked from Jungkook to the terrified guard, "Master, shall we?" He ushered for the guard to leave as he mentally thanked Namjoon for saving his arse.