Don't Ask Don't Tell

Chapter 3: Scary fucking mobsters weren't supposed to be sympathetic.

  That night, Suga paced, waiting for whatever no-doubt terrifying mafia member Chanyeol had sent his way. He'd seen some of the guys who worked at the club, and they were fucking scary. Suga stood by the window, waiting to see who would show up.
He didn't expect to see a slick black stretch limousine pull into the parking lot. It gleamed in the streetlights. Fuck, Chanyeol really didn't understand that coming to this block of apartments in something like that was just screaming to get unwanted attention. Did the entire mafia not know how to be discreet?
Of course, they didn't. They were the mafia. They didn't think anyone had the audacity to do anything about their flash and pompousness.
Suga watched as a man stepped out of the limo, dressed to the nines in Gucci. Did these people just coat themselves in the most expensive things they could find? As he watched the man walk up to the entrance, he thought the dyed-blonde head of hair looked familiar. He couldn't pinpoint why. There were a hundred different people with that same shade of dirty-blonde hair, why did he look so familiar?
He didn't have time to wonder, because then there was a knock on the door. Suga looked to where Jihoon was sitting on the floor, enraptured by Pokemon. Suga couldn't leave him. They were an hour early coming to get him, and his mom didn't get home until-
There was another sharp knock at the door. These guys were mafia members, disobedience meant death. Suga couldn't just ignore the knocking. He sighed deeply, getting up to answer the door, only to end up standing face-to-chest with a spotless suit jacket, crisp white dress shirt, and silk tie. He looked up and nearly died on the spot. Those exact same eyes, the jawline...
Suga was standing in front of the Rook. He was certain it was the same person. Suga couldn't believe it. The guy he'd fawned over earlier was one of Chanyeol's lackeys? That meant he was one of Jeon Jungkook's hangarounds too. A million thoughts burst through Suga's head in the split second it took for the Rook to give him a sweet, boxy smile.
"You must be Suga, correct?"
He barely managed a nod in response.
"Chanyeol sent me here to pick you up."
"Yeah."
"Yoongi?" Jihoon whined, tottering over. Suga placed a hand on Jihoon's head, ruffling his hair.
"And who's this?"
The Rook knelt down to Jihoon's height, smiling. He seemed sweet. Suga didn't let himself get suckered in that easily, though.
"My little brother."
"I'm V, what's your name?"
Suga looked on as they engaged in a typical childlike conversation. He seemed good with kids, but V had also probably killed people. A lot. that didn't sit well with Suga.
Unlike Suga, Jihoon liked talking to people. Suga was more interested in V. Today had been coming up with more questions than answers, it seemed. Suga wasn't sure that he liked that.
To be quite frank, Suga didn't think he liked that at all.
"Do you mind if I come inside?"
"No," Suga said when he really wanted to say yes. "Not at all."
But then the rook flashed him that adorable boxy smile, and Suga stepped aside to let him in without thinking twice. Even though he knew logically that letting a member of the fucking mafia into his home was a giant, stupid, idiotic mistake. But watching Jihoon ramble a mile a minute, enthusiastically detailing the latest episode of Pokemon to a captive audience in V somehow convinced him that he hadn't royally fucked up.
"Are you the only one home?"
It took Suga a moment to realize that V was talking to him.
"Um. Yeah. My mom doesn't get home until nine and my dad is..." Suga trailed off, knowing that offering more information than asked was stupid. He couldn't help himself. "I don't know where he is."
V nodded like he understood. Suga didn't know why he had said anything. He wished he hadn't opened his big fat mouth in the first place.
"That must be tough," V said, sympathetically. Big scary fucking mobsters weren't supposed to be sympathetic. That wasn't how it worked. That wasn't how it was supposed to work. Right?
Suga frowned at his thoughts. But then V smiled at him again, and Suga couldn't help but smile back. Maybe V was the exception to the rule. Suga sure hoped he was.
"Well, then. Guess there's nothing to do but wait for your mom to get home then?"
Suga suppressed the urge to tell him that what had just come out of his mouth was the worst idea that he had ever heard, possibly in his entire life. Suga didn't have much of a fucking choice, did he? He couldn't leave an eight-year-old home alone. And the idea of Jihoon tagging along to work made Suga feel like he was going to vomit.
How was he going to explain this one, anyway? His mother would come home to a mildly irritated Suga and a man in a suit that cost more than their monthly rent sitting on the couch and discussing the complex and in-depth character development of Pikachu, for god's sakes. What the serious fuck?
"That's, uh. That's alright. You don't have to, um, stick around or-or anything."
"Where else would I go?" V said, and Suga wanted to punch himself in the face, mobsters should not look that sweet and kind. "Back down into the limo with a bunch of people who don't care about Pokemon? Been there, done that. Boring."
Well, what the fuck, Suga thought. This guy had probably murdered more than one person, and here he was, preoccupied with a children's cartoon?
Suga just sat down on an overstuffed armchair, for he had no words. Absolutely none. This was the weirdest thing that he had found himself in thus far in his life.
V shrugged in response, looked to Jihoon, and sat down beside him on the floor.
The man wears a pressed Gucci suit, clearly brand-new, and he sits on the floor. Wonders never cease.
Suga tuned out as Jihoon started babbling again, much like young children tend to do. He was so screwed. Normal people don't show up to other people's homes in expensive designer brands from a limo surrounded by bodyguards. His mom was going to both lose her mind and realize that something was going on. Maybe she wouldn't instantly assume, but she would think he was tied up in the yakuza.
And she wouldn't be entirely wrong.
Suga hoped that V was good with words. Being slick was part of being a mobster, right? Because Suga would completely fuck up any explanation he tried to give. When Suga heard the lock on the door click, he nearly had a heart attack. Quite contrarily, V smiled.
"Looks like your mom is home."
Suga heard footsteps in the hallway and suppressed a wince.
"Yoongi, Jihoon! I'm home!"
As soon as she stepped into the living room, Suga thought, It's all over now.
"Yoongi? Honey, who's this?"
Suga looked to his mother's curious eyes sliding over V, who is still sitting cross-legged on the floor in a suit that cost more than any amount of money they could make in one night combined. Before Suga can respond, V is up and introducing himself.
"You must be Mrs. Min, right? It's lovely to meet you." V said, warmly. Mrs. Min eyed him suspiciously.
"My name is V."
"What an interesting moniker you have." Mrs. Min said, not looking like it was interesting at all. "How do you know my son?"
V flashed a thousand-watt smile. "I'm friends with Heechul. He had mentioned that metro costs were going up earlier, so I thought I'd help Yoongi save some money."
"Really? Even for prepaid card users?" Mrs. Min asked, in the way Suga recognized as her not fully believing what she was being told, but believing enough.
"It's unfortunate, no? The government would put air in a bag and charge people to breathe."
"They would, wouldn't they?"
Suga pretended not to notice that his mom was looking pointedly at a number of large rings adorning V's left hand.
"Say. you wouldn't happen to be the owner of that limo outside, would you?"
"Why, indeed. I am."
That seemed to impress Mrs. Min. Suga just sighed softly.
"It's been lovely, but if Yoongi is to be at work on time, then we must leave."
"Of course."
Suga followed V outside. Maybe he didn't give V enough credit, he really did have a way with words. At the very least, his mother had taken a liking to V. Whether that was because he was polite or because he was rich, Suga couldn't know. Nor did he want to know.
Outside, it's pure chaos. Suga spotted almost all of his neighbours standing either on the shitty excuses for balconies the apartment block had or surrounding the limo in a throng. There's a fine assortment of men much larger than both Suga and V, clearly scoping them out.
Just his luck. He would get mugged in front of an attractive member of the mob.
I did not just think of this guy as attractive, Suga thought.
V smiled at him again, and a small part of his brain reaffirmed that yes, he did just think of V as attractive.
Suga looked to the crowd of people again, and suddenly, air that was present ten seconds ago wasn't there anymore.
Suga can feel his hand being taken into V's, and he looks up at him.
"Don't worry. I've got you." V said, low enough that only Suga could hear. "Those street rat punks won't be getting anywhere near you."
Suga didn't snap into reality again until they were in the limo.
"Not a fan of crowds, huh?"
Suga shook his head. "You could say that."
"That's alright. You made some wonderful blushing arm candy."
Suga can feel the heat rising in his face, and he knows he's blushing again. If he is, V makes no comment.
"How'd you know about Heechul?" Suga asked, trying to take the focus off of himself. Although, he did suppose it was stupid to ask a mobster for his information sources.
"I have my ways," V smirked. "Plenty of sources."
"Well. That's not ominous and intimidating at all."
V's smirk fell a little at that. "I'll try and be less intimidating, then."
Suga looked around, not used to seeing so much finery. Oakwood panels, a fully-stocked bar, beige suede interior. Who had this kind of shit in their vehicle? Apparently, rich people. Suga didn't want to touch any of it for fear of smudging the immaculate gleam with his own dirty fingerprints. He'd never seen anything like this before. Crystalline glasses glinted in the low light. This was possibly the most unnecessary form of decadence he'd ever seen in his life.
"Enjoying the view?" V asked, watching Suga take in all of the excesses around him.
"How much did all of this cost you?"
"Don't worry about cost," V said, smiling again. "Money isn't an object to me, you know?"
What would it be like, Suga wondered, to not have to worry about money? To not have to work for a living as he did?
"The club is opening a new location, right?"
"Yeah. Why?"
V smirked. "Well, why not celebrate a little? I don't suppose you would care for some champagne?"
A bottle of Hennessy XO was already in V's hand. Suga shrugged. Apparently, V had been informed of everything but Suga's age, either that or he just didn't care. When would Suga get the chance to try something like this again? He could barely afford weekly groceries, let alone a bottle of champagne. And plus, one drink before work never hurt anyone.
Before Suga could truly think, a crystal champagne flute was in his hand.
"To new beginnings," V said. The clink of the glasses tapping together was deafening, but also the best sound that Suga had ever heard.
"To new beginnings." He echoed. He hoped that these fabled new beginnings lead to a decent end.