𝓐𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𝓸𝓯 𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱

ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡ ⓕⓞⓤⓡⓣⓨⓕⓘⓥⓔ

“Kim Seokjin, young and prosperous investigator,” he presented, hand reaching out for a handshake.

Taehyung ignored the handshake, staring deep into Seokjin’s eyes, looking for the faintest hint he could have gotten of the man’s motivation. He was quite good at guessing people’s emotions through their eyes, as he had gotten to study them rather closely with his particular hobby. Yet, in those eyes, he saw nothing. The poker face of a professional, of someone who was simply too good at hiding their cards… someone just like Taehyung. However, this man was part an enforcer of the law, which separated their worlds distinctly, their individual motives ultimately different. This man played the same game as people like Taehyung, but hunted them down too.

“I’m just interested in… getting to know you,” he added, a slight grin on his face, an uncomfortable pause between his words.

The man’s face was too angelic, his features too soft for the poisonous tone of the words that rolled off his tongue. His appearance was nothing but a trick, a facade to cover a deeper, darker agenda underneath it all. It was easy for Taehyung to notice it, as he was himself a person who hid themselves among the others, playing off as just another normal man. He saw how easily this man could have trapped others with the simple use of his looks, tricking them into thinking he was on their side, or that he was the good guy. He was far from that. Working for the law meant nothing; it was the ways one used to enforce it that showed who they truly were underneath their title. It put Taehyung on guard; he understood that this man was to avoid, and possibly to get rid of as soon as he could. He was a threat. The first real threat Taehyung ever had to face. The man’s right hand reached forward and Taehyung stiffened when it reached his own, long fingers delicately cupping his.

“You have calloused hands for an unemployed rich man,” he noticed, intrigued. “Are you a fan of carpentry by any chance?”

Taehyung snatched his hand out of his touch, his anger suddenly bubbling up too quickly. You can’t lose your temper, Taehyung, control yourself, he said in his head, blood boiling. All of a sudden, he thought of all the ways he could disfigure the man’s pretty face, of how bloodied and beaten up he could make it look if only it were not for the inappropriate setting. The touch of his fingers had been cold, and he could feel the lack of heat creeping up his hand. It was unsettling, and Taehyung unconsciously took a defensive stance, slowly realizing the importance of his reactions.

Images of the cut up man flashed into his mind, his wrists attached to the familiar chains on the ceiling, the red light reflecting onto his doll eyes. Oh how he wished to see his cocky stare turn into a look of pure fear, to see his shaking pupils as he pushed a blade into his squirming body. The familiar excitement of a kill creeped up inside of him, threatening to break his calm and collected cover. He felt the recognizable electricity course from his finger tips and up his arms, his heartbeat quickening and his breathing getting deeper, steadier. Taehyung clenched his fists and swallowed, hard, as he felt a presence creep up behind him.

“Is everything alright?” Jungkook said as his hand slid on Taehyung’s shoulder, reassuringly squeezing it.

“Yes, of course! We were just having a pleasant little one-sided chat,” Seokjin replied as he got off the stool, a creepy smile on his face. “However, I am a busy man and must go. Thank you for your time, Mister Kim. Hope we meet again soon.”

Taehyung cracked his neck as he pushed himself up, wanting to follow him, but Jungkook firmly kept him down on the stool. They both watched as the man left the club without looking back once, a confident sway in his hips. Taehyung had to keep himself from snapping at Jungkook for not letting him go, trying his best to understand that it was for his own good. The thrill that had overcome his body was slowly fading away as he took deep, controlled breaths and closed his eyes, focusing. Killing an investigator was far from a smart idea, and he knew he would have to be extra careful, and especially extra smart to succeed in doing so. Jungkook pulled the stool the detective had been sitting on closer to Taehyung, sitting down and leaning in inches away from his face.

“Hey. Stop. I know that look. Calm down,” Jungkook whispered loudly enough for Taehyung to hear over the music.

“I need to do it. I have to k⎼” Taehyung started, mumbling his thoughts.

“⎼iss me,” Jungkook said before leaning in and leaving a quick, soft kiss on his lips, looking to the sides afterwards to see if anyone had noticed. “What was that all about?”

“I’ll tell you later, here isn’t a good place to talk,” Taehyung muttered, his eyes glued to the entrance of the club.

He had to kill him. There was no other choice. An investigator suddenly showing up, knowing exactly who he was and saying he wanted to “get to know him”. It was strange, and it made Taehyung on edge. That man was a menace. He had to be dealt with as soon as possible before his digging eventually hit what he yearned to find out the most: Taehyung’s deepest, darkest secrets. A sudden rush of anxiety took over him, and he started questioning all of his past decisions. Would his employees stay loyal to him? Would their loyalty falter over the law, or would they keep still with the promise of money? A man’s devotion could easily be turned around… Taehyung felt sick. He felt as if he was slowly losing control, as if all he had worked hard for was gradually slipping from the tip of his fingers. His heart was beating fast. Too fast.

“Hey. Hey. Look at me. Calm down. I’m here. Everything’s alright,” Jungkook reassured, taking one of Taehyung’s hands between both of his, his thumb stroking him.

Was that true? Was everything really alright? A look into his lover’s eyes reassured him that yes, it was, as long as they were together. Both of them were unstoppable and could defeat any hardship, any fucked up situation that life would throw their way. They had been through so much, yet here they were, still standing strong. They had touched the bottom of the deepest pit, yet had come back up even greater and bigger than before. A phoenix reborn from its ashes. They would get through this. No matter what. No matter the sacrifices.

+++

Yoongi puffed on his cigarette, quickly glancing at his silver watch before throwing the short, almost extinguished butt of it on the sidewalk. He exhaled, looking up to the sky, observing it. It was a rare view, to see the stars shine with such force. Usually they were covered with fog or clouds, the city sky being too polluted to enjoy the solemn beauty of the night. He was suddenly distracted when his nose sniffed out the smell of weed, and he could not help but to glance in the scent’s direction. He noticed a man smoking a joint in the dark, half of his face covered by shadows. There was a mysterious look to him, and he could not help but question the man’s withdrawal from others. Yoongi did not recognize the man, and it unconsciously drew him closer. His feet walked before he could even think about it, and in a couple of seconds he was a meter away from the shadowed figure of the man.

The man noticed his presence and turned, exhaling the thick white smoke at the same time. Yoongi inhaled, staring into the man’s eyes, trying his best to seem unfazed by him. He could not help but stare at his captivating features, pulled in by how soft his lips looked, how mesmerizing the dark glow in his eyes was. The cool wind hit against his warmed cheeks, snapping him out of his intense stare. He was surprised that the man did not question his presence, yet simply looked back at him with what he thought of the same enticement he had himself.

“Yoongi,” he said, still hypnotized.

“Jimin,” the man answered softly.