𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 | 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 (𝓜)

Working Conviction || XVII.

Ao3 credit: rix

Ao3 warning by author: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

summary: How their trust evolves to go from from Jungkook pointing a loaded gun in Taehyung's face to Taehyung binding Jungkook down and fucking him till he can't see straight.

If you're the author and want this taken down, dm me, woopsie..

What they used to be is quite simple. Humble workers under separate agencies operating under the same principles, with different goals often attained through similarly questionable methods. Perhaps inhumane methods, depending on who you ask.

It's all about perspective, as Taehyung often says when there are too many viewpoints to explain and every single one is arguably wrong.

Because depending on who you ask, a skull shattered through easy like an eggshell, blood spilling out like the clotted yolk, is a justified course of action.

To put this into perspective, you could call them killers. Again, though, that's a debatable choice of words. Taehyung likes the truth just about as much as everyone else in the business does. Ask any of them and perhaps they'll choose to go by the simple yet vague operative, or the delightfully caustic artisan, or the awfully to-the-point hired gun.

Call it what you will. That's perspective, folks. The best part is it doesn't change a thing.

The best part is you can slice syllables and snap on and break off a suffix and prefix, bend words to build anew, and it's not going to change the fact that a bullet is a bullet and that blood is blood. Whether it be deemed dirty or clean blood, now that's the part that's up to you.

The truth never changes. You can change the lies all you want.

The inherent justification of the bullet is forever shifting but it's still a bullet you shot.

All you can really do is lie in hopes of your justification.

"You deserved that shot," is the first ever thing Jungkook tells Taehyung. "Try anything funny and you'll deserve another."

Taehyung's on the ground with the bone at the juncture of his collar splintering around a 9 mm bullet.

"Then make is good, mister, and get it straight through the skull, 'cause I'm all about funny."

Jungkook presses the hot muzzle of the gun against Taehyung's temple.

"Don't play with me."

"Got something against play? Hardass."

The earpiece in Jungkook's ear crackles, followed by his partner saying, "I got one of 'em down. Dead. You got the other?"

"Yeah," he says through the radio, conscious of the way Taehyung's eyes loll over him. Of course, at this point, he doesn't know that his name is Taehyung. All he is is just another case of applied perspective, hopeful righteousness, bleeding out onto the steel tread plate.

"Dead?" his partner asks.

"Soon," Jungkook replies, and fixes the gun firmer against Taehyung's head.

"Gonna kill me, beautiful?" Taehyung teases from the ground. It makes Jungkook bristle, which is rare. Anger really stops becoming an instinct when you're so used to the kickback of the gun playing it out for you, louder and grander than you ever could. "Make it quick. I got places to be, people to see."

It hadn't gotten Taehyung shot then, but thinking back, maybe that was what he'd wanted. A bit of dark humour to complement the final bullet to his brain. A stylish black on red. Now, being more familiar with him, Jungkook knows it's something he'd surely do. Crack some adrenaline charged joke with the circular end of a gun stamping an imprint in his temple, grinning at his deliverer, clutching a separate bullet wound and poking at it so it hurts that much more.