Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/11606232. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: M/M Fandom: 방탄소년단_|_Bangtan_Boys_|_BTS Relationship: Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope/Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster, Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin/Park Jimin, Jeon_Jungkook/Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Jeon_Jungkook/Min_Yoongi_|_Suga Character: Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Kim_Namjoon_| Rap_Monster, Park_Jimin_(BTS), Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Jeon_Jungkook Additional Tags: Strippers_&_Strip_Clubs, Club_AU, Mafia_AU, Kinda, past_2seok, past taejin, Stripper_Park_Jimin, Bartender_Min_Yoongi_|_Suga, club_owner_jin, Stripper_Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, kinda_not_really, Waiter_Kim_Taehyung_|_V, Waiter_Jeon_Jungkook, college_drop_out_namjoon, Smut, lots_of_smut, I almost_forgot, From_Sex_to_Love, Top_Kim_Seokjin_|_Jin, Bottom_Park Jimin, Top_Jung_Hoseok_|_J-Hope, Bottom_Kim_Namjoon_|_Rap_Monster, Bottom Jeon_Jungkook, Switch_Kim_Taehyung_|_V, uhhhh_that's_all_for_now? Series: Part 1 of wings Stats: Published: 2017-07-25 Completed: 2017-10-29 Chapters: 15/15 Words: 37044 ****** wings ****** by ivythebug, triggerhxppy Summary Working at a strip club isn't all dollar bills and glitter. Not when everyone's lives are at stake in a dangerous game of money and power. Notes Alright so this is an au that my cohort and I came up with back in march and it's finally become an actual thing thank you for joining me, please sit back and try to relax. ***** intro: boy meets evil ***** Chapter Summary "I never thought that the greed would become the trumpet heralding hell." Chapter Notes protip: the links on their names are what I think they'd look like, so there's that See the end of the chapter for more notes In the shadows of Seoul stood a club called Wings, all pink neon lights and cigarette smoke.  The facade was dim, almost hidden, and the neighborhood didn’t boast the best reputation.  But the inside -- oh, the inside -- was a dark wonderland of sex, sweat, and broken dreams.  At every turn of the head were toned bodies, glistening skin, and pouty lips.  The club had been there forever, a booming success for so many years… but it hadn’t always been Wings.   You see, back in its prime, this club was the House of Cards.   It was the number one hotspot for all things shameful.  The King of Diamonds -- the “King” for short -- was the club’s main dancer, known for the most beautiful face in all of Seoul and a body carved from sin.  People came from all around to see him perform, men and women alike.  No one could resist him.  But once he reached the height of his underground fame, he vanished and the House of Cards was shut down.     Rumor has it that the King had enough of the spotlight, the greazy people shoving their dirty money at him, and wanted to move on to bigger and better things… well, his boss didn’t like that.  The King was making him more money than he believed possible, and he was not about to let him go.  Some say the King’s boss assaulted him, rapedhim. Other’s say the King just wanted the money and the power all to himself. Either way, the King killed his boss and seemingly disappeared from Seoul.   The House of Cards remained closed after that.  Or at least until someone else bought it, far after The King of Diamonds and his legacy were forgotten.  The new owner was a guy named Kim_Seokjin, better known as Jin.  Jin was notorious for being someone you didn’t mess with.  He was cold hearted, unafraid to take someone’s life in the blink of an eye, and he always got his way.  Jin set about to reopen the old club under a new name, fix it up just the way he liked it.  For a time, the club was cold on the outside, and colder still on the inside.  All the old neons were busted, and the windows were boarded up.  That’s where I come in.   My name is Min_Yoongi.  I came to Jin as a victim of circumstance, and what led me there… well, we won’t talk about that.  Let’s just say I did some very bad things that upset all the wrong people.  I was on the run, just trying to find somewhereto hide, but every place I came across was too obvious… until I found Jin’s place, the old club.  After I jimmied the door open and let myself inside, I was finally able to catch my breath.  But then I heard footsteps, and saw a shadow coming from a lit up office.  The first words Jin said to me were, “What the hell are you doing here?”  He was calm, but he said it with an obvious air of authority.  The hand resting on the gun sticking out of his waistband added to the effect, not gonna lie.     “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here.”   “I-I just need some help…”   “Help?” Jin scoffed and gripped his gun tighter. “And why should I help you?”   “Listen,” I had nothing to lose. “I’ll do whatever you want, just please…help me.”   Apparently I wasn’t the only one who needed help because he immediately took up my offer.  He said I was set to work as the bartender when the club reopened under the name of Wings, which sounded easy enough to me.  In return, he basically removed all trace of Min Yoongi, taking me off the grid.  And the new apartment wasn’t too bad either.     Little did I know that I was in for way more than just tending a bar, but that’s a story for later.   After Jin and I became “business partners” -- though I got none of the perks of being a partner and all of the grunt work -- it became my job to recruit the talent.  It’s not easy to find a dancer for a club that already has a bad reputation (you know, murder and all) and will undoubtedly be very illegal in the future.  It’s not like I could hold an audition or hand out flyers on the street.  I had to do it surreptitiously, but it’s kinda hard when you don’t have any connections.   Luckily enough, a guy named Jung_Hoseok lived in the same building as me.  Just down the hall actually.  He looked like he could be a dancer -- had a nice build, pretty face -- but I couldn’t just walk up to him and ask him if he would maybe wanna be a stripper in a highly illegal club.  No, this had to take planning if I was going to do it at all.  And I was beginning to think I wouldn’t even bother, until I was in the lobby getting my mail one day and accidentally on purpose heard Hoseok talking on the phone.   “Yes, I know,” he sighed, heading toward the elevator.  “I’m gonna have to find a job doing something.”   A few seconds later…   “You never know, dancing could make me money one day.”   He had already pressed the call button for the elevator, so I bolted in his direction.  The doors were just sliding closed when I squeezed inside, just barely catching him.  He gave me a strange look and told the person on the phone that he had to go.  Then I made my move.   “Sorry to eavesdrop, but I hear you need a job,” god, I was out of breath.   “Yeah?”  his brows furrowed together.   “And you’re a dancer?”   “I might be,” he scowled then.  “Why do you wanna know?”   “Because I might have a job for you… if you can keep a secret.”   He looked increasingly unsure the more I explained, biting his lip and shifting awkwardly.  And when I was done, he eyed me without saying a word. I was sure he wasn’t on board until he finally spoke.   “What do I have to lose?” he sighed.   So I took Hoseok to the club to meet Jin, and while Hoseok seemed nervous at first, he warmed up to the situation rather quickly.  Jin and I sat in cushy chairs by the edge of the stage and watched him dance.  You could tell he was new to the pole aspect, but he could definitely catch on fast.  And so, Hoseok became known as Jay, the new club’s first dancer.  Although, he didn’t stay a dancer for long.  He wasn’t fired, no… Jin just thought his talents would be better suited for privateshows instead.     But while Hoseok was still a dancer, two new recruits were made.  The first of the bunch was Kim_Taehyung, a cute little farm boy far away from home.  Taehyung grew up on a small farm in Daegu, and he didn’t know much at all about the outside world.  But he had always wanted to live in Seoul.  When he made the decision to move, he was broke and clueless.  He found himself a little, run-down apartment -- it was pretty shitty, quite honestly -- but he had no way to pay for the rent, or even food.  So our innocent boy learned how to make money on the streets by picking pockets.  Honing his craft took time, but he became incredibly stealthy and increasingly brave.  But sometimes brave can also mean reckless.   One day, Taehyung spotted a man who seemed to be very well off.  He was wearing a hand-tailored suit and a Rolex on his wrist, and Taehyung would be damned if he didn’t think it was his lucky day.  Little did he know that he was preying upon a man with a loaded gun and a broken conscience.  Taehyung was no more than a foot away from the man when his wrist was forced behind his back, his face pushed against a brick wall, and the gun’s barrel pressed to his temple.  He wasn’t scared, having evolved to thicker skin and a harder heart.  The man, none other than Kim Seokjin himself, thought Taehyung was absolutely beautiful.  He wanted to collect Taehyung, and collect him he did.  After accepting Jin’s terms and conditions (“Either you work for me, or I kill you.”), Taehyung found himself serving drinks in suggestive outfits.     With a bartender, dancer, and eye-candy server, Jin was ready to open Wings,new and improved.  But on the day of the grand opening, a fluffy-haired boy stepped inside.  He looked around in complete awe of the place, like he had never seen the inside of a strip club before.     “Um, can I help you?” Hoseok asked the boy.   “Do you need another dancer?” he asked.  “I’m really good, I swear.”   “What’s your name, kid?” Jin stepped out from his office to see what was going on.  He eyed the boy like he could see right through him.   “J-Jimin,” you could tell the boy -- Jimin -- was affected by Jin.  In what way, no one knew yet.   “Show me what you’ve got, Jimin,” and it wasn’t a request.   And so Jimin got on stage and gave Jin a routine he would not soon forget.  Jimin had looked as if he belonged on a stage, belonged on a pole.  Jin gave him the job and a few bored looks before retreating to his office.  It was Hoseok’s job to teach him a routine, or at least make sure he was prepared to perform that night.  Jimin was beaming the whole night, maybe especially when he looked at Jin.   In the year that followed, everyone at Wingshad become somewhat of a family - - albeit, a dysfunctional one.  Hoseok had been told to take his work to the private rooms, Jimin had become the star performer, and Taehyung had been requested in Jin’s office for “meetings” more than twice.  Everything had fallen into a routine, a strange sense of normalcy.  Until hecame along.   One day, when we were all preparing for just another night at the club,Taehyung came in with a small, pitiful boy under his arm.   “He’s been living on the streets for a while,” Taehyung told us. “No place to stay, no food.  I mean, look at how skinny he is!”   “What are we supposed to do, Tae?” Jimin asked rather rudely, whether he meant to or not.   “Well, I don’t know about you,but I’m going to help him the best way I know how,” and Taehyung led him back to Jin’s office.  I guess everything went okay because there was no yelling or gunshots, and the kid was back the next night in a server outfit similar to Taehyung’s own.   “I never got your name,” I said when the kid sat down at the bar.   “I’m Jungkook,” he reached his hand out to shake, and I took it. “You’re Yoongi.”   “Bingo.  How did you end up here?”   Jungkook looked down at his lap before he replied.     “I- well, my parents kicked me out,” he paused, stiffened, “because I came out.”   “They threw you on the streets because you’re gay?”  Jungkook looked up at that, and his huge doe eyes looked about ready to burst.   “I mean,” he took a deep breath, “Yeah.  I’ve been kinda half-dead ever since.  But Taehyung found me and took me in.”   “But why are you working here?  There’s no way you’re even legal.”   “I’m sixteen,” Jungkook blushed bright red. “Taehyung said he could probably find me a job, even though this might not be the best place for someone like me.”   “And you still went with it?”   “I would do anything to survive at this point.”   Since then, Jungkook had always seemed like more than just an innocent, lost boy.  Even so, this boy had been added to our little family.  And like every family, we were close.  We relied on each other.  We fought with each other.  We always came together at the end of the night no matter the circumstance.   But like every family, we had our secrets. Chapter End Notes aaaaaAAAAhhh please tell me what you thought, I love you for bearing with me ***** blood, sweat, and tears ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "Even though I knew, I drank from the poisonous Holy Grail." Chapter Notes enter Namjoon and storyline ...and smut See the end of the chapter for more notes Knock, knock, knock.   “Yoongi, come on!” Hoseok’s voice came through the door.  “We’re gonna be late!”   “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” I rolled off the couch and threw on a leather jacket, trying to look like I was totally not just asleep.  Hoseok looked up from his watch when I opened the door, giving me that disappointed mom look.   “Jin’s gonna kill us if we’re late one more time, Yoongi.”   “You know he won’t,” and we started our daily walk to the club together.  “And wipe that look off your face.”   Hoseok shot me one last scowl before he added, “I know he won’t.  I just don’t feel like dealing with him today.”   I tried not to notice the fist balled at Hoseok’s side, the way he visibly stiffened.   “You never feel like dealing with him, Jay,” I teased.   He aimed a punch -- not a light one -- to my shoulder.  I hissed and massaged my arm, and I caught a glimpse of Hoseok’s smile.  He was never good at staying mad at me.     Of all the walks to Wingsthat we’ve shared, all the nights we spent eating pizza and drinking beer in each other’s apartments, Hoseok hadn’t told me why he hated Jin so much.  I didn’t push him to tell me.  It wasn’t my place, and honestly, I didn’t care enough about their beef to ask.  Though maybe I should have.  I had just always thought it was because Jin took Hoseok’s spotlight and replaced it with darkness.     ===============================================================================   Hoseok and Jimin were on the stage, going over their routines before the club opened that night, and Taehyung was sitting at the bar chatting me up while I dried off some glasses.  The sound of Jin’s office door opening made me stop, setting down the glass I was working on.   “Look alive,” I mumbled to the boy at the counter.  He sat up straight, slightly confused only until he saw Jin step into the light.  We watched with bated breath as Jin crossed the room to the stage.     “What’s he gonna do?” Taehyung asked out of the corner of his mouth.  It wasn’t typical of Jin to come out and hangwith us before we opened for the night.  He usually stuck to his office in the back.   “Oh,” Jimin smirked as he bent down to touch his toes, ass in the air. “Hey, boss.”   Jin looked in Jimin’s direction, face still as cold and expressionless as ever, then turned to Hoseok.  Taehyung scoffed and turned back around to face me instead.     “Hoseok-ssi,” Jin said as he approached the edge of the stage.  Hoseok stopped stretching and walked over to him with his brows furrowed.   “Hoseok-ssi?” he half-laughed, but still spoke with caution.  “That’s a little formal, don’t you think?”   Jin said nothing, just stared back and shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants.   “What do you need, sir?” Hoseok asked when he realized the game Jin was playing.   “You won’t be dancing tonight,” Jin’s expression never wavered, not even when Hoseok jumped from the stage and approached him.     “What?” Hoseok stared up at Jin with a scowl, arms crossed.   “Actually, Hoseok-ssi,” Jin crossed his arms too, staring down at Hoseok, “you won’t be dancing anymore, period.”   “Wha- are you firingme?” Hoseok began to flush, breathing heavy.   “No, I’m not firing you,” Jin smirked. “You could call it a promotion, perhaps.”   Hoseok still had not unfurrowed his brows.  If anything, they just kept drawing closer together as the conversation went on.   “What are you saying, Jin?” Hoseok asked slowly.   “I decided you’d be better off doing… private shows from now on.”   “And by ‘private’, you really mean…?” Hoseok had worked with Jin long enough to know that nothing was simple.   Jin just laughed in Hoseok’s face.  A cold, mirthless laugh.   “It won’t be completely legal, of course,” Jin turned to walk away, looking as if he won, “but the best things never are.”   “Oh my g- you-!”  Hoseok’s eyes went wide, and you could almost see the steam coming from his ears.  “You want me to fuck random people for money?!”   Jin kept walking back to his office, and Hoseok followed close behind.  Hoseok only stopped when the door to Jin’s office was slammed in his face.  He huffed and began pounding his fists into the door, screaming at Jin to come out.  Hoseok’s temper didn’t flare easily -- merely frowning at a cheap tip or whisper-ranting about a rude customer on our way home -- but when Hoseok really got angry, he lost all restraint, no matter who he was angry with.   “Jin, you motherfucker!” As soon as the words left his mouth, I ran out from behind the bar, desperate to stop him from making the situation worse.  “Open this do-”   “Shhh,” I clasped my hand over his mouth and dragged him away from the door.  “Hoseok, shhh!”     Hoseok kept trying to yell despite my hand muffling him.  And no matter how much he thrashed or tried to bite my hand, I held on for dear life.  I pulled him back into the main room and wrestled him to the ground, sitting with him between my legs and his back pressed against my chest.  He stopped trying to fight it, stopped trying to bite my hand, and let his breath even out.   Taehyung left his seat at the bar to cover Jin’s office door, making sure he didn’t hear the telltale sounds of a gun being loaded.  Jimin, although he stopped stretching to watch the scene a while ago, remained standing on the stage.  We were all scared.   But we still had a club to operate.  So that night, Jimin danced alone for the first time, Taehyung flirted with the customers a lot less, and Hoseok spent the whole night sitting in the dressing room and crying in front of the mirror (though he’d deny it if you had asked).  The night was slow, almost torturously so, but it ended eventually.     After the doors were closed and the lights were turned back on, Taehyung was sitting on his favorite barstool and Jimin was sitting on the bar itself as I tried to clean around him.  The boys were arguing with each other about god- knows-what when Hoseok finally emerged from the dressing room.     “Hey, Hoseok-hyung,” Jimin called to him.  If Hoseok heard, he didn’t show it.  He was walking straight toward Jin’s office with his jaw set.  I knew what that look meant.   “Alright, you two,” I gestured to shoo them away, “you helped out enough, you know, sitting at my bar and doing nothing.  Time to go home, I got this.”     “You’re right, hyung,” Jimin yawned and slid off the bar.  “Goodnight.”   “Goodnight, hyung,” Taehyung waved and grabbed his coat.   After the two boys left, I noticed Hoseok was just standing outside Jin’s office door.     “Good luck, Hoseok,” I whispered to myself, but I know Hoseok could hear it in the quiet club.  He finally knocked.   “Come in,” came from the other side.  Hoseok thought I left after that, thought he and Jin were the only two people left in the club that night.  I never had any intention of leaving though, and never any intention of letting Hoseok find out I stayed.   “What can I help you with, Hoseok?”   “What the hell, Jin? Why are you making me do this?”   “It’s business, Hoseok,” chair squeaking, footsteps. “And it’s an area I know you’re very skilled in.”   Silence.   “I know what I’m doing here.  Do you trust me?”   A pause.   “I trust you, Jin.”   Idiot.   “Good,” more footsteps, chair squeaking again.  “I won’t let anyone in that room if I feel they are of any harm to you.”   “I just…” deep breath, “This is what I get, huh?”   “You should have known better, Hoseok.”   “You’re right,” footsteps, doorknob turning… Doorknob turning? I slipped into the shadows behind the bar. “I’ll never make that mistake again.”   Hoseok walked out of the office, past the bar, and straight out the front door.  I quietly slipped out after him, careful to not let Jin know I had stayed behind.  Neither Jin nor Hoseok ever found out I stayed that night, though I didn’t get much information from it.  Just what I thought were nonsensical words.   ===============================================================================   “I’m just saying,” Hoseok shrugged as he opened the front door to the club, “you need to get laid.”   “Shut up, Hoseok,” I shook my head with a grin and followed him inside.   Inside, Jimin was showing off his new outfit for the night, Jungkook was watching in awe, and Taehyung was rolling his eyes at the both of them.     “Is Jin in?” Hoseok asked the boys on his way to the dressing room.     “No,” Taehyung replied.  “He won’t be here tonight, something about a business thing?”   “Ah yes, a business thing,” Jimin mocked Taehyung from the stage. “Because that’s so specific.”   “Choke on a dick, Jimin,” Taehyung spat.   “I don’t choke, honey,” Jimin smirked, upside down on the pole.     “Stop showing off, you little shit,” I called to him through a laugh as I settled behind the bar.  Jimin slowly lowered himself and pouted at me.  Taehyung still looked cross.     “Aw, hyung,” Jungkook beamed at Taehyung, “don’t look so grumpy.”   “So Jin isn’t going to be here?” Hoseok asked when he reappeared from the dressing room.  “Like, at all?”     “Correct,” Jungkook clarified.   “Thank god,” Hoseok clutched his chest and laughed.   “I don’t get it, hyung,” Jimin announced.   “Don’t get what?” Hoseok questioned as he sat on a barstool.     “Why you hate Jin so much,” Jimin pouted.  “I mean, I know he’s a giant dick, but come on.  No one else here hates him thatmuch.”   “I just do, Jimin,” Hoseok turned cold. “Okay?”   “Okay…” and the pout reappeared.   “Why are you defending him?” Taehyung asked.     “I just don’t think Jin is really all thatbad,” Jimin shrugged and started walking circles around the pole.   “Yeah, right,” Taehyung laughed, “You just want his aforementioned giantdick.”   “Excuse me?” Jimin stopped in his tracks and locked eyes with Taehyung.   “You heard me.”     “You’re just jealous,” Jimin walked to the edge of the stage.   “Jealous?” Taehyung stood from his cushy chair.   “I’m obviously the hottest one here,” Jimin said matter-of-factly.   “Oh?” Taehyung giggled.  “And what makes you say that, Jiminie?”   “Because I’m the one on stage,” Jimin’s face was set. “I’m the one being lusted after, the one the people come to see.  I’m the moneymaker, Taehyungie.”   “Right,” Taehyung shot Jimin a smug smile.  “Break a leg tonight, hope it’s not because you fall off the stage.”   Taehyung stalked away to the dressing room, Jungkook following close behind.   “These kids are gonna run me to an early grave,” Hoseok sighed, smiled like a proud mother.   In the middle of Jimin’s most anticipated routine that night, a lanky, out-of- place somebody walked through the door.  He looked around, taking everything in like he didn’t quite understand where he was.  After a few moments, focusing shortly on Jimin, he walked over to the bar and took a seat.   “You look a little lost,” I laughed when he jumped at my voice.   “Sorry,” he turned back to look at Jimin again. “I’ve never been in a strip club before.”   “Really? I had no idea.”  He looked down at his hands, so I asked, “What’s your name?”   “Namjoon.”   “So, Namjoon,” I was curious about him, “What the hell are you doing here?”   “Huh?” he looked spooked. “My, uh- my friends said I needed to relax.”   “And get laid?” I wasn’t surprised when he nodded.   “Yeah,” he was so shy. “They said to come here, talk to a guy named Jin?”   “Well, you’re in luck,” I smirked. “Jin’s not here.”   “And that’s lucky?” Namjoon’s brows furrowed.   “For you, it is,” I patted his shoulder. “No offense, but he would eat you alive.”   “Excuse me?” Despite my advice, he looked offended.   “If you knew him, you’d understand,” I propped my elbows on the bar.  “So areyou here to get laid?”   “I can actually do that here?” He went from offended to scared real quick.  Funny how that works.  “I thought they were just kidding.”   He paused.   “Wait, isn’t that very illegal?”   “Well, yes,” I smiled. He still looked scared, but almost as if he was considering it.   “I just,” he sighed, “I-I’m…”   “You’re..?”   “I’m a virgin,” he said so fast, so quietly, I almost didn’t catch it.   “Do you wanna do this?” I asked with a stern edge.   “I-,” he started. “Yes.”   “God, you’re so lucky,” I muttered as I stepped out from behind the bar.   “Lucky?”  He stumbled as I grabbed his wrist and pulled him forward.   “Lucky that Jin isn’t here,” I opened the door to the private room, “And lucky that you’ll have a guy like Jay.  Now sit here, I’ll send him in.”   “Okay…” he said as I closed the door behind me.  Hoseok was sitting in the dressing room, commenting on Jimin’s current outfit change.   “Hey, Hoseok,” he looked up.  “I have a client for you.”   “What?” he stood up and looked utterly confused, “Jin’s not here, I can’t have any clients tonight.”   “Well,” I leaned in and whispered, “he’s a special case.”   “Special how?” I don’t know how Hoseok’s eyebrows didn’t get frozen all furrowed like that.   “He’s a virgin,” his face softened at that.   “Fine,” Hoseok checked himself in the mirror before stalking toward the private room. “He better be cute, at least.”   And Hoseok wasn’t disappointed.  He opened the door slowly, throwing on his most subtle bedroom eyes and sultry smile.  Namjoon was sitting on the couch, rubbing his palms on his jeans and blushing hard, but Hoseok thought it was so damn cute.   “Hello, handsome,” Hoseok smiled gently and sat down next to Namjoon. “What’s your name, baby?”   “I-I’m Namjoon,” he tried to keep Hoseok’s gaze, soft as it was.   “Namjoon,” Hoseok cooed, testing the name on his tongue. “I’m Jay.”   Hoseok put a light hand on Namjoon’s knee, and he gulped.  His heart beat faster as Hoseok moved his hand higher, albeit slowly.   “And I’m here to make you feel good,” Hoseok said with a gentle squeeze.   “I’m not so sure this was a good idea,” Namjoon stammered out.   “Aw, why not, baby?” Hoseok pouted but didn’t remove his hand.   “I-,” Namjoon looked at his lap, at Hoseok’s hand on his thigh, “I don’t exactly have the money… you know, for you. This.”   “Oh, Namjoon,” Hoseok cooed, “You don’t need to worry about that right now.”   “B-but you-” Hoseok cut him off with a kiss.  He leaned into Namjoon just the slightest bit, and Namjoon placed his shaky hands on Hoseok’s sides.  Hoseok broke the kiss, pecked Namjoon’s lips once, and pulled away.   “I don’t care about the money, Namjoon,” he said as sincerely as he could, because he really did mean it.   “You don’t?” Namjoon looked sinful with innocent eyes and slick lips.  Hoseok put a hand on Namjoon’s chest.   “No, baby,” he smiled softly. “Just let me take care of you.”   “O-okay,” Namjoon’s eyes widened when Hoseok moved from beside him on the couch to between his legs on the floor.  Hoseok smoothed his hands up Namjoon’s thighs, and the latter took a deep breath, balling his hands into fists.  Hoseok made quick work of undoing Namjoon’s jeans, and he slipped his fingers under the waistband to slide Namjoon’s jeans and boxers off.  Hoseok could feel Namjoon breathing hard, heavy.   “Calm down, baby,” Hoseok kissed the inside of Namjoon’s thigh, and he didn’t miss Namjoon’s hand twitch at the action. “You can touch me if you want, I like that.”   Namjoon’s eyes widened, and he slowly raised his hand to Hoseok’s head, threading his fingers in the soft, orange hair.  Hoseok hummed, slowly started stroking Namjoon’s cock, and placed a gentle kiss to the tip.  Hoseok kitten licked here and there and waited until Namjoon’s eyes were on him to take his whole length in his mouth.     “Holy fuck-,” Namjoon tugged a little on Hoseok’s hair. “I’m so sorry..!”   Hoseok let up with a pop, “It’s okay, baby.  I don’t mind it a little rough.”   Namjoon moaned loudly when Hoseok sank back down, feeling himself hit the back of Hoseok’s throat.  He ran his hand through Hoseok’s hair, trying to distract himself from grabbing Hoseok with both hands and holding him down on his cock.  Instead, Hoseok bobbed up and down at a steady pace, one hand covering what his mouth didn’t.  Hoseok loved the sounds Namjoon made for him, and he loved that each one was so innocent, so pure.  Hoseok moved faster just to hear those beautiful moans, and he felt Namjoon’s hips trying to buck into his mouth.   “Jay, I- fuck,” Namjoon moaned. “I think I’m-”   Hoseok pulled off and started pumping Namjoon faster, “Cum for me, baby.”   Namjoon’s brows furrowed and his chest heaved and he came in ribbons across Hoseok’s face.     “Holy shit,” Namjoon panted.  Hoseok grabbed some tissues from the table and wiped his face.   “Feel better, baby?” Hoseok smiled up at Namjoon.   “God, yes,” Namjoon beamed and pulled up his jeans. “Thank you…”   “You really don’t have to worry about paying me,” Hoseok said seriously, though with his signature smile. “I wanted to do this for you regardless.”   “Can I-” Namjoon looked at his now clothed lap. “Can I kiss you?”   It took Hoseok by surprise, but he still said yes.  But what surprised him even more was how much he liked kissing Namjoon.   “I mean, wow,” Hoseok sighed. “Yoongi, I could have kissed that boy forever.”   “You’re drooling,” I said as I held open the door to the apartment building. “Also, thank you so much for all the details on your time with him.  I appreciate the sheer explicitness.”   “Oops. Sorry, Yoongi,” Hoseok’s smirk didn’t look sorry.   “Goodnight, Hoseok,” I said when I got to my door.  “Try not to dream about him.”   “Oh, no promises,” Hoseok called from his own door just ten feet away.  That night, he stepped into his apartment wearing one of the biggest, brightest smiles I had ever seen on his face.  And when it comes to Hoseok, that’s saying something. Chapter End Notes Hope you all like it! The next chapter will probably be a while simply because I'll be away but it's still coming, promise <3 ***** begin ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "Now I can't even imagine it, the wholly empty me who had no scent of his own." Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes “Yoongi-hyung~,” Jungkook called in a sing-song voice as he sat down at the bar.  His smile was breathtaking, but his eyes were alive with mischief.   “What’s up, Jungkookie?” I smiled back, wiping down the glass in my hand.   “Well, you know my birthday’s coming up,” he began. “And I was thinking I could get a celebratory drink on the sly, if you know what I mean.”   I couldn’t help but laugh at the wink he aimed at me, “You’re turning seventeen, Jungkook.  The only drink I’ll be giving you is an apple juice.”   “Aw, hyung..,” Jungkook whined. “No one has to know.”   “Try again next year, kid,” I placed the glass back on its shelf.  “Don’t you have crusty old men to wait on?”   It was silent.  I turned back to see Jungkook staring down at the counter, perhaps at his own reflection.   “Something wrong?” I asked.   “It’s nothing, hyung,” he shook his head and looked up at me. “I just hate the way they look at me.”   “You’ll get used to it eventually,” I noticed Jungkook frown at that. “I mean, you’re still relatively new to this.”   “I know,” Jungkook sighed.   “You better get back out there before Jin sees you.”   “You’re right,” Jungkook slid off the barstool. “See you, hyung.”   I watched his small form disappear into the crowd again, into the darkness.  My chest hurt every time I thought of him in those skimpy outfits, leering men trying to touch him.  But every time I saw Taehyung, I felt as if a little bit of the balance was restored.  Most would say Taehyung was doing people dirty, but if you ask me, he was doing god’s work.  Taehyung was absolutely beautiful, so much so that if you looked into his eyes, he could steal the coat right off your back without your realizing it.  He often used this to his advantage; flirt with the customers, capture their attention, and steal their wallets.     “Hyung, I need a scotch on the rocks with a twist,” Taehyung said as he approached the bar.     “Coming right up,” I pulled out a glass. “You’re really working the crowd tonight, huh?”   “Yeah,” Taehyung scoffed, then sighed.   “Rent due?” I asked, pouring the scotch.   “It’s not rent this time,” Taehyung smiled. “I wanna get Jungkook something nice for his birthday.  He deserves it.”   “I won’t argue with you there,” I placed the orange peel right on the rim, handing the drink to Taehyung. “Does he still not know you’re a pickpocket?”   “Nope, still pure,” he laughed as he picked up the drink. “Let’s hope he doesn’t find out.  He’d freak.”   “Does he ever wonder where all that money comes from?”  I asked.   “He just thinks I make really good tips,” Taehyung shrugged, smiled, and disappeared to deliver the drink.     If you asked Jungkook, he would have said he didn’t want a thing for his birthday.  He would have told you, as seriously as he could while blushing, that he was just happy with a roof over his head.  Happy that Taehyung had found him and taken him in.  He didn’t care about a birthday present, he was just happy he was alive.   But no one asked Jungkook.     No one asked Jungkook if he was scared, stuck in the dirtiest part of Seoul.  No one asked if he missed his family, the people who threw him to the wolves, made him feel like he could never be loved.  No one asked if he felt dirty, knowing what the men who came into the club thought when they looked at him, knowing what goes on behind closed doors here at Wings .     But if you asked, Jungkook would have said yes to all the above.   I wish I had asked.   ===============================================================================     “Hey, it’s me,” of course I got Jin’s voicemail. “Just wanted to let you know that I’m on my way to the club to sign for the shipment.”   I paused to unlock the back entrance to the club , letting myself inside.   “I swear to god, Jin, if there is anything other than spirits in this delivery- ”   “Do you think I’m afraid of you?”   I hung up without finishing my sentence and slowly closed the door behind me.  No one else should have been there at 2pm on a Wednesday.     “You tell me, Taehyung,” came Jin’s voice from his office, the door was wide open. “Are you scared?”   “Not even a little bit,” Taehyung spat back.  From my hiding spot, I had a clear view into the room.  I shouldn’t have watched, but I couldn’t pull myself away.   “As brave as you are beautiful,” Jin smoothed the back of his hand down Taehyung’s jaw, tilting him into a kiss.  It was soft, softer than I ever thought possible from Jin.  If I didn’t know him, I would’ve thought it was a loving kiss.  Jin broke the kiss and looked deep into Taehyung’s eyes.     Taehyung’s face was stone cold, expressionless.  If it wasn’t for his slick lips, you would never know he had just been kissed.  He challenged Jin’s stare, not about to let Jin win over him.  Then Jin kissed Taehyung’s jaw, his neck, and Taehyung’s eyes rolled back, his mouth fell into a sinful “o”.     Jin’s hands roamed down Taehyung’s sides, stopping at his hips.  He pushed Taehyung against his desk, tapped Taehyung’s thigh to tell him to sit down, and positioned himself between his legs.  One of Jin’s hands snaked around Taehyung’s back, and the other carded through his bright red hair and pulled hard.     Jin licked a stripe up Taehyung’s exposed throat, worked a dark hickey into the side of his neck, and ripped out a moan from Taehyung that rang through the whole empty club.   “Jin-” Taehyung was breathless, “Jin, we can’t…”   “Remind me,” Jin rolled his hips against Taehyung’s own. “Why are you leaving me?”   “I-,” Jin slid a hand into the front of Taehyung’s jeans, “It’s getting too- fuck!- risky.”   “Mm,” Jin hummed, kissed Taehyung hard. “I don’t know if I can give you up, Taehyung.”   Taehyung actually growled at that.  The hands that had been gripping the edge of the desk were tearing at Jin’s clothes.  Suit jacket forgotten on the floor, Taehyung ripped Jin’s shirt open, sending buttons flying in all directions.   I stopped watching once I heard the belt buckle jingling, quickly making a stealthy exit out the back.  Waiting for the delivery outside was a way better option than watching what was going on in there.  Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long before the truck showed up.     “Got a delivery for Kim Seokjin,” the man announced, looking at the clipboard in his hands.   “Yeah, that’ll be me,” I said, signing the form Kim Seokjin and handing the clipboard back to the man.  He frowned when he looked at the form.   “ You’re Mr. Kim?” he asked.     “Yeah,” I folded my arms across my chest, held my chin a little higher.  “Got a problem?”   “No, sir,” he said after a moment. “Where do you want it?”   “Follow me,” I opened the back door and the moans instantly hit my ears.  I closed the door as fast as I could and said, “Actually, just let me take it in.”   “Okay...” he seemed unsure, but let me wheel the boxes in anyway.     “Fuck, Jin..!” Taehyung whined.  Someone growled, then the moans got even louder.   “Oh, god,” I muttered to myself, trying to unload the packages as fast as I could.  Fuck taking the bottles out of the boxes, I would do that Friday before we opened.  I had to get out fast.   “Here you go,” I gestured to the empty dolly as I shut the door behind my back.   “Thanks,” the man took the dolly and wheeled it back to the truck. “Have a nice day.”   “Yup, you too!” I called back, still leaning back against the closed door.   The following Friday, I was finally unpacking the bottles from their boxes. I had just taken out a fresh bottle of vodka when Jin walked up to the bar.   “I need to see you in my office,” he tapped the surface of the bar twice, then walked away before I could say anything.  I set the bottle on the shelf where it belonged and slipped out from behind the bar.     The door to Jin’s office was open, but I knocked on the doorway anyway.   “Come in,” so I stepped inside, “and close the door behind you.”   I closed the door and took a seat in one of the leather chairs in front of Jin’s desk.   “I’m relieved there weren’t any coke stashes hidden in my booze this time,” I joked.     “Listen, I got your voicemail-”   “So you know what I’m talking about?” I laughed, “That’s good.”   “Min,” Jin just looked tired.   “What about the voicemail?”  I put on a straight face.   “Did you get here right after you called me?” Jin asked.   “Yes,” he flinched like that was definitely not the answer he wanted.   “Did you-”   “Yes, Jin,” he sighed, and I continued, “Look, it’s not a big deal.”   He looked up at me but said nothing.   “You know me, I’m not gonna say anything.”   “Thank you,” Jin found his professional voice again.  I stood from my seat and started toward the door.  Right before I opened it to leave, I looked back at Jin.   “Just know that Taehyung was right,” his brows furrowed at that. “It is risky.”   I let myself out before Jin could try to reply.  While I was half joking just to rile Jin up a bit, I knew he was more than smart enough to realize the truth behind it.  Jin had always believed that business comes before pleasure.  And while that remained true, he had also always had a knack for finding the pleasure in business.     But Jin knows first hand that combining the two could lead to disaster.  He never told me -- or anyone, for that matter -- what happened to make him the way he is: seemingly incapable of love, a stone cold hardass.  I liked to believe Jin used to be a real person with a soul and dreams.     But then again, so was I.   “Need a hand?” Taehyung appeared at the bar just as I was getting back to arranging the new bottles.     “Sure,” he joined me behind the bar and pulled a bottle from a box.   “I know it was stupid,” Taehyung whispered.   “What do you mean?” I furrowed my brows at him.   “I saw you, hyung,” he sighed.   “Oh,” I busied myself with another bottle.   “I don’t want you to think badly of me, hyung,” Taehyung said more to the bottle in his hands.   “I could never,” I whispered back. “He’s a charmer, it’s his superpower.”   Taehyung laughed, “Yeah, I guess.”   “Have you gotten Jungkook’s present yet?” I asked as I put the last bottle on the shelf.   “Not yet,” Taehyung sighed. “I should be able to get enough by the end of the night if I work really hard.”   And work, he did.  Taehyung marked every warm body that walked through the doors as his prey for the night.  As I watched him work, I could not believe how Jungkook hadn’t noticed.  Taehyung would walk up to a customer and ask about a drink, place his hands ever-so-gently on the victim’s chest, press his own body against theirs, and slide a smooth hand into their pockets.     “How do you make so much money, hyung?” Jungkook asked in awe as they reconvened at the bar.   “It just takes skill,” Taehyung laughed. “You’ll get the hang of it eventually.”   Taehyung took his tray of drinks from the bar and wandered back into the crowd.  Jungkook watched him go for a few seconds before he grabbed his own tray and joined the crowd as well.  What I didn’t see was Jungkook freeze in his tracks, staring at Taehyung in absolute disbelief.  Apparently Taehyung wasn’t as sly as he originally thought.  Once Jungkook could move again, he bee-lined straight to Taehyung, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to the dressing room.     The events that occurred from then on are as follows according to Hoseok, who claims to have seen everything from the door of the private room:   Jungkook pulled him into the room and rounded on him, the most genuinely hurt Hoseok had ever seen him (“I mean, Yoongi, I could feel my heart shatter.”) .   “What did you just do?” Jungkook growled (“But like, when baby Simba tries to roar in the Lion King.”)   “What are you talking about?” Taehyung looked almost scared, but mostly just confused.   “You stole from that guy, Taehyung!” Jungkook had reached the point of whisper- yelling.   “You saw that?” Taehyung deflated.   “Yes, I saw that!” Jungkook pushed against Taehyung’s chest. “Why’d you do it?”   “Jungkook, listen-”   “Why did you do it?” It sounded more like a command than a question that time.   “To make a little extra money,” Taehyung sighed.   “This is how you’ve been doing it?!” Jungkook pushed him again.   “Do you really feel sorry for those people?” Taehyung countered.   “They’re still people-”   “Jungkook, they treat you like a plaything,” he grabbed Jungkook by the shoulders.  “You really think they don’t deserve it?”   Jungkook said nothing else for a while, just stared up at Taehyung with quivering lips and doe eyes about to burst with angry tears.   “Jungkook-”   “Stop,” Jungkook finally spoke, albeit with the smallest voice possible. “I can’t look at you right now.”     At that, Taehyung let go of Jungkook and walked back into the main room without a word.     “And that’s why he’s sitting here in my apartment,” Hoseok concludes.   “He’s at your apartment?” I didn’t get why he would be there.   “I went to talk to him after Taehyung walked out,” Hoseok’s voice turned sad. “He said he couldn’t go home with him.”   “I’m coming over,” I hung up, walked down the hall to Hoseok’s apartment and knocked on the door. Hoseok opened it without saying anything, and my eyes instantly saw him .   Jungkook smiled when he saw me.  It was a small smile, a broken smile that didn’t remotely reach his eyes.  All I wanted to do was fix it.     “Hi, hyung.” Chapter End Notes Sorry for the wait! I hope it's worth it :) ***** lie ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "Please find the me who was innocent." Chapter Notes a little warning about some things mentioned in this chapter -struggles with drugs/alcohol -abusive relationships -bullshit bullying but otherwise sunshine and rainbows so to speak “We should go get Jimin-hyung!” Jungkook suggested with bright eyes.     “Jimin?” Hoseok questioned.   “His apartment is on our way, right?” Jungkook turned to me with a smile.  “He can walk to the club with us.”   “Yeah, alright,” I smiled back at him.  “Might as well add him to our caravan.”   So instead of following Hoseok and I’s usual route, we stopped at an apartment building not far from the club.  The building was honestly hard to look at, and it was even harder trying to picture Jimin living there.  It looked like it should be condemned with a handful of windows busted and graffiti littering every surface.  Several people who I assumed were residents sat out front smoking, drinking, doing other things that probably weren’t legal.     “There he is,” Jungkook pointed toward the building, and I could just make out a shock of pink hair hiding under a black hood.  Jimin kept his head low, watching his feet as he stepped onto the sidewalk.  He barely glanced at us and started walking in our direction, but he didn’t see the tall, lanky blonde right in front of him.   “Oh, sorry,” said the blonde.  He gave Jimin a small onceover and continued to walk toward the apartment building that neighbored Jimin’s own.  It was in slightly better condition than Jimin’s, but not by much.  Jimin didn’t so much as look at the blonde he bumped into; he didn’t even look up after he caught up with us, eyes glued to the sidewalk.   “Something up, Jimin?” I asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.   “I’m fine,” he shrugged my hand off.   “Are you sure, hyung?” Jungkook stopped and physically turned Jimin to face him.  Jungkook gasped, eyes huge, when he saw Jimin’s face.   “What is it?” I turned Jimin to face me now, and while his eyes didn’t meet mine, I could finally see his face.  And the black eye adorning it.   “What happened, Jimin?” Hoseok asked as he moved in beside me.     “Just my stupid roommates,” Jimin shrugged, tried to pull away and keep walking. “Don’t worry about it.”   “Your roommates did this to you?” I asked, walking just a pace behind Jimin.     “They do a lot of things to me, hyung,” Jimin mumbled. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”   “What’s Jin gonna do when he sees your eye?” Jungkook asked, worry evident in his voice. “What if he doesn’t let you perform tonight?”   “I can cover that up for you, Jimin,” Hoseok said.  “That’s the least of your problems.  Now tell us what happened.”   “You guys aren’t going to leave me alone until I do, are you?” Jimin stopped walking for a moment.   “Exactly,” I said. “So spill it.”   “Fine,” Jimin started walking again.  “So I live with these guys-”   “How many?” Jungkook asked.   “Two,” Jimin answered. “And our apartment is really small.  Like studio-for- one-person small… but rent’s dirt cheap.”   “Stop dodging the question,” I said. Jimin huffed at me.   “They’re not great guys,” Jimin sighed. “To be honest, I knew nothing about them when I moved in. I was just desperate for a place to live, you know?”   “In a place like that?” Hoseok’s eyes were wide. “You’re lucky you weren’t killed or something.”   “Sometimes I wish I had been,” Jimin muttered under his breath.  I don’t think anyone other than me heard.   “Either way,” Jimin continued. “They… bullyme.  That sounds childish, but there’s no other word for it.”   “They bully you?” I asked, Jimin nodded. “How exactly?”   “It’s stupid-”   “Jimin,” I was getting impatient.   “Fine, ” Jimin huffed. “I’m kind of an outcast in the apartment.  They bring home all kinds of drugs and- ugh- I stay away from that stuff.”   “That doesn’t seem like a good reason for them to hit you,” Hoseok said suspiciously.   “They also know about my job,” Jimin sighed.  “And they like to believe they’re the most heterosexual men this side of Seoul.”   No one said a word, no one had to.  We all knew that this life wasn’t for everyone, and we certainly didn’t have the safest job in the world.  We knew the risks, the reputation that could come with Wings.  Even so, it always put a sour taste in our mouths when we saw the results outright.  Jimin had known the sting of the words his roommates threw at him, the words that no one deserves to hear.  Jimin had taken the punishment for trying to live his own life, a life that was never kind to him to begin with.   That night, Jimin performed his first routine with something a little less than enthusiasm.  The pure lust that usually radiated from his body was gone.  He danced as an empty shell, his mind seemingly elsewhere.  But to the crowd, the lowlifes who stuck bills in Jimin’s waistband, he looked as sinful as ever.  People like them don’t bother to look for the things that we could plainly see.   “Get me a glass of something strong,” Jimin said as he came up to the bar.     “Since when do you drink?” I asked, taking a glass from its shelf.   “Since forever,” then Jimin murmured under his breath, “It’s just been over a year since my last drink.”   “You don’t have a problem with alcohol, do you?” I asked as I set the glass back on the shelf.   “No,” Jimin sighed. “I just know that it leads to nothing good.”   “Come on,” I walked around the bar and led Jimin by the shoulders toward the dressing room. “You’re sweating off your concealer.”   Jimin sat sideways in front of his vanity, Hoseok sitting in front of him.  With gentle hands, Hoseok applied more concealer to Jimin’s eye.  When he was done, Hoseok packed up his supplies and Jimin studied his face in the mirror.  The room was silent as he did so, until someone else came in.   “Min, what are you doing in here?” Jin asked, genuinely confused.   “Uh,” I stood from the chair I was sitting in. “Just leaving-”   “Hey there, boss,” Jimin smirked at Jin through the mirror.  He slowly stood from his place in front of the vanity and walked -- no, strutted -- over to Jin.  He got close, placed a hand on Jin’s chest, and said, “Come to watch the show?”   Jin looked down at him, just as Jimin tapped the underside of Jin’s chin and walked past him into the main room.  Hoseok and I were frozen, staring blankly at what had just happened.  Jin looked just as shocked.  While Jin was a very handsome man -- anyone could see that -- no one evermade an open pass at him.  Most people knew better than to risk it with Jin.   But then, Jimin had never been like mostpeople.   After a few moments, the silence was finally broken by Jin: “Hoseok, a word.”   Hoseok was still speechless, but he made his way over to him.   “I have a client for you,” Jin told him.   “What’s he like?” Hoseok stepped into his business persona.   “That’s the thing,” Jin said, and Hoseok’s face dropped. “Your client is a woman.”   “A woman?” Hoseok’s professional air was lost. “I’ve never been with a woman, Jin.”   “It’s not hard, Hoseok,” Jin scoffed. “I would normally never have done this-”   “So why did you?” Hoseok snarled.   “Because she’s one of the richest, most powerful women in Seoul,” Jin defended. “We’re lucky she’s even coming to us.”   “You’re unbelievable,” Hoseok muttered.   “Business is business, Hoseok,” Jin turned to leave. “Don’t fuck this up.”   Hoseok was just left standing there shaking his head at the floor.   “What am I gonna do, Yoongi?” Hoseok looked at me with wide eyes.   “You’ll be fine,” I put a hand on his shoulder. “Women aren’t that bad.”   “You’re just saying that because you like women,” Hoseok scoffed.   “Eh, sometimes,” I laughed.  “If it helps, you could think about that Namjoon guy.”   “Don’t you have a bar to tend?” Hoseok laughed and hit me in the shoulder.   ===============================================================================   Even though both Taehyung and Jungkook were sitting at the bar, I cleaned in complete silence.  You see, Taehyung was sitting on a barstool at one end of the bar, and Jungkook was sitting on his own barstool at the oppositeend of the bar, both pointedly ignoring one another.  Just when I thought the tension in the room was going to crush me, Hoseok walked out of the dressing room.   “Oh, thank god,” I whispered to myself before I called out, “Hey, Hoseok!”   “What’s up?” he asked as he sat down at the bar, right smack in the middle of the other two.   “I couldn’t stand the silence anymore,” I whispered, nodding my head toward the boys.   “Jungkook’s still mad at him?” Hoseok whispered back.   “Sure seems that way,” I frowned. “Does that mean Jungkook’s not going home with him again?”   “I dunno,” then Hoseok walked over to Jungkook, whispered back and forth, then came back to me.   “He said he’s gonna go back to their apartment,” Hoseok was the one who frowned then. “Though he’s not happy about it.”   “Hey,” Jungkook finally spoke up. “Where’s Jimin-hyung?”   “Yeah, his ass is usually in my way when I clean up,” I frowned. “Did he leave early?”   “He’s in Jin’s office,” Taehyung supplied.   “What’s he doing in there?” Jungkook asked.   “You don’t wanna know,” Taehyung dismissed.  Jungkook went back to ignoring him and pouting.   “You don’t think he’s-” I began.   “What else would he be doing?” Hoseok snarled.   “Gotta say,” I shrugged. “The kid’s bold.”   If anyone else noticed Taehyung scoff, they didn’t show it.  Everyone knew what that locked door implied -- some more than others -- but no one ever discussed it at length.  In a way, we all assumed it was just something that came with the job, nothing to write home about.  Instead of waiting to be summoned like the others would, Jimin went willingly, on his own accord.  He sought Jin out himself, slinking through the doorway and locking the door behind his back.   “Jimin?” Jin looked up from some papers in his hands.  “Can I help you?”   “Actually,” Jimin approached Jin’s desk, placing his hands on the edge and leaning in close. “Maybe I can help you.”   “Oh?” Jin set the papers down, leaned back in his chair, and raised an eyebrow.  Jimin slowly walked around Jin’s desk and sat on its surface, right in front of Jin.   “You work so hard,” Jimin said with a pout. “You must be stressed, boss.”   Jin’s face remained set in a smirk.  Jin always loved a challenge, and he was alwaysdetermined to break Jimin.  He didn’t move, didn’t dare initiate.  He much prefered to watch Jimin battle inside his own head.  He could almost hear Jimin telling himself that coming into the office was a bad idea.   But Jimin was not about to back down.  He was stubborn, just as much -- if not, more so -- than Jin himself.  Jimin loved to fight back, even if he knew there was nothing to gain from it.  So Jimin narrowed his eyes, got up from Jin’s desk, and suddenly grabbed both armrests on Jin’s chair, caging him in.  Jin scowled, taking Jimin’s wrists in a tight grip and pulling him into his chest.   “You think you’re brave, huh?” Jin growled into Jimin’s ear. “Get up.”   Despite Jin pushing him up, the burning hands around his wrists, Jimin smirked.     “Oh,” Jimin giggled. “I like it when daddy’s rough with me.”   “Excuse me?” Jin loosened his grip just enough for Jimin to slip his hands free, turning around and pushing back against Jin’s body.   “You heard me,” Jimin sneered, rolling his hips against Jin’s.   “Can’t say I’m surprised,” Jin snarled. “Something like that coming from a little slut like you.”   Jimin hummed and rolled his hips again, this time feeling the growing bulge in Jin’s slacks.  After a few more swings of his hips, Jimin turned around to face Jin, his hands roaming all over his body.  Jin’s stare was cold, unwavering, but Jimin kept smirking up at him.  His hand traveled down, finding Jin’s rock hard length.   “Oh,” Jimin whistled as he dipped his hand under Jin’s waistband. “Someone’s a big boy.”   Jin wordlessly placed his hand atop Jimin’s head and pushed him down onto his knees.  Jimin fumbled with Jin’s belt, and Jin tugged harshly on his pink hair.  Jimin stroked Jin’s cock slowly before taking its whole length into his mouth.  Jin didn’t moan, hardly even let out a breath.  Jimin swallowed around Jin’s cock, earning himself a sharp pull on his hair.  Jimin bobbed his head on Jin’s cock a few times, then came up for air with a pop.   “Use me,” Jimin’s voice was rough already.   “Gladly,” Jin placed both his hands in Jimin’s hair.  Jimin sank down on Jin’s cock once again, and Jin pulled him forward.  He started thrusting fast into Jimin’s mouth, selfishly chasing his own high.  The only indication that he was affected was the way his chest rose and fell shallowly, the way his hips stuttered.  Without saying a word, Jin pulled hard on Jimin’s hair, dragging him off his cock.  Jimin’s head was tilted back, neck exposed, and mouth wide open and waiting.     “You’re just a cum slut, aren’t you?” Jin growled as he painted Jimin’s lips a pearly white.  Jimin’s tongue poked out from his mouth to clean Jin’s cum from his lips.  He smiled at the taste, the satisfaction of having wormed his way into Jin’s mind.   “Mm,” Jimin hummed. “You could say that.”   Jimin stood and let himself out of Jin’s office, leaving him to clean himself up.  The main room was empty and almost pitch black.  The rest of us had already left long before Jimin finished up with Jin.  Jimin walked into the dressing room to pull on his hoodie before he left for the night.  On his way out, he caught his reflection in a vanity mirror.  He examined himself, the messiness of his cotton-candy hair, the pout of his lips, and the hidden bruise around his eye.  He suddenly didn’t feel like hiding it, didn’t feel like he should cower behind concealer or anything else.  Jimin smirked at himself, proud of what he accomplished that night.  He walked out of the club into the dark with a smile on his lips and his head held high.   ===============================================================================   “I mean, I acted like I knew what I was doing,” Hoseok was explaining. “I think I did okay, though I don’t really have anything to compare-”   “You think you’re soperfect, don’t you?” Jimin’s voice cut through once I opened the front door to the club.   “That’s rich, coming from you,” Taehyung shot back.   “What’s that supposed to mean?” Jimin must have been in the middle of changing because he was only wearing a pair of jeans.  Meanwhile Taehyung was fully dressed with his uniform draped across his arm.  Jungkook was sitting at the bar, looking as if he wasn’t about to stop the yelling match anytime soon.   “Oh, come on!” Taehyung threw his arms in the air, almost sending his uniform flying. “You walk around here like you own the damn place!”   “At least I don’t have to steal to make good tips,” Jimin spat. “I would never stoop that low.”   “Don’t you dare think you’re better than me,” Taehyung growled. “I’m not some slut on a pole.”   Jimin stopped dead at that.  He slowly approached Taehyung, pushing a finger against his chest.  Taehyung didn’t move, just looked down at Jimin with a scowl.   “You don’t know shit about me, Taehyung,” Jimin said in a low voice.  “You don’t know what I went through before I came here.”   Taehyung still didn’t move, didn’t say a word, but the guilt was etched into his face.     “I thought I was invincible, that being young meant that nothing I did could hurt me,” Jimin continued. “So when someone offered me pot for the first time at a party, I tried it.  And the cocaine, and the ecstasy, and whatever else I could get my hands on.”   Everyone in the room was silent, watching on the sidelines as Jimin set the skeletons free from his closet.   “Then I met Jihoon,” Jimin grimaced at the name as if it tasted bad in his mouth.  “He promised me the world, promised that it would be me and him until the end.  But he hurt me, in more ways than one.”   Jimin laughed bitterly.   “You think this is bad?” He gestured to his black eye. “You should have seenwhat he did to me.  But I was in too deep to leave him.  I mean, we were always high off our asses, I couldn’t realize that what he was doing was wrong.”   “How did you leave?” Jungkook asked from the bar. “I had just gone on a drug run for him,” Jimin explained. “When I came back, I found him buried balls deep in some bitch from down the hall.  I took that as my wake up call and packed my things.  Though he didn’t let me go without a few lashes, but...”   “Jimin, I-” Taehyung began.   “Save it,” and Jimin walked back into the dressing room without another word.   “Holy shit,” Hoseok said under his breath.   “I never knew Jimin-hyung went through all that,” Jungkook frowned and looked down at his lap.   “Yeah, well,” Taehyung gathered his uniform in his arms again and looked sadly at Jungkook. “I guess you never reallyknow a person.”   That night, everyone had gone home early.  They didn’t sit at the bar and make useless chit chat like usual.  They simply gathered their belongings and rushed out the door.  I was left to wipe down the bar alone in the empty club… well, almostempty club.   “I’m heading out,” Hoseok called from the door. “You coming, Yoongi?”   “Nah,” I continued wiping the bar. “You go on ahead, I’ll be a while.”   “Alright, catch you later.”   After Hoseok left, I walked into the dressing room to find Jimin sitting at his vanity, just staring into the mirror.  He didn’t look particularly lost in thought, but his face was devoid of emotion.  He looked as if he couldn’t go on, like all the energy to care had been drained from his body.   I roused him from the state he was in, told him I would walk him home.  He probably would’ve argued on a normal day, told me he was a big boy who could find his way home just fine.  But he didn’t put up a fight that night, just grabbed his things and followed me out the door.  We walked in silence for most of the way, until we passed a group of people smoking outside some building.   “God, I could go for a cigarette,” Jimin sighed.  I felt all my pockets and found an old pack.   “Here,” I offered him the pack, and he took one.   “You smoke?” Jimin asked as I fished around for a lighter.   “I used to,” I said, and he lit the cigarette, taking a long drag. “But you know, the eminent death wasn’t all that appealing.”   “Don’t worry,” Jimin laughed. “I don’t do this a lot.”   “Must be in a really bad spot then,” I said looking straight ahead. I almost missed the way Jimin looked at me.   “Yeah,” he sighed. “It all just came rushing back.”   “I get that,” and before I knew it, we were standing in front of Jimin’s building. He craned his neck to look at it, really take in the state of it.  Then he stomped out the cigarette with his shoe and sighed.   “I don’t want to have to go in there and deal with them after today,” Jimin cringed a little as he thought about it.   “Jimin,” he didn’t turn to me, and I didn’t turn to him. “You’re so strong.”   “Strong?” Jimin laughed coldly.   “You are,” I defended.  “Not everyone can endure that, especially not the way you did.” I caught Jimin smile out of the corner of my eye.  He bowed his head - - probably to hide the smile -- and whispered a “Goodnight, hyung” before heading inside.   ***** stigma ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "You were so fragile, and you received punishment for my crime." Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes “Hey, Jimin-” I called as I stepped into the dressing room.  The only people in the room were Taehyung and Jungkook, no one else.  They were both putting on their uniforms, facing opposite directions and not speaking to each other.   “He might be in the bathroom,” Taehyung supplied as he fastened a little collar around his neck.   “Thanks-” I turned to leave, but Jungkook rushed past me before I could take a step.   “I’ll check, hyung,” he said as he walked out.   “What was thatabout?” I asked, stepping farther into the room.   “He’s been like that all week,” Taehyung sighed, slipping a black vest over his bare torso. “He can’t stand to be in the same room as me for more than five minutes.”   “You just have to give him time,” I picked up Taehyung’s jacket from a chair so I could sit down. “He’ll come to realize that picking pockets isn’t the worst thing people are capable of.”   “I just hope he’s not the victim of anything worse,” Taehyung leaned into a vanity, taking in his appearance.  I shifted in the chair to set his jacket aside, but as I did so, a small box fell from one of its pockets.  I picked up the box from the floor, looked over the outside, then turned to Taehyung.   “Is this what you got Jungkook for his birthday?” I asked him.   “Yeah,” he glanced at it through the mirror and sighed.   “His birthday was last week,” I muttered to myself.  “You didn’t give it to him?”   “How could I?” Taehyung turned around to face me. “He hasn’t spoken more than two words to me since that night.”   Taehyung sighed, turned back toward the mirror and hung his head.   “And he wouldn’t want something bought with stolen money,” he murmured to himself.   Unsure if I was supposed to hear that, I didn’t respond.  I opened the box and saw a silver bracelet sitting inside.  The chain was delicate, but the single angel wing looked strong.  The underside of the wing was engraved with 6/13.   “6/13?” I looked closer at the engraving. “What does that mean?”   “June thirteenth,” Taehyung answered, smiling sadly. “That was the day I found him and took him in, the day he became part of our fucked little family.”   “The day he found his wings,” I whispered.   “Exactly,” Taehyung walked over and gestured for the box.  I handed it to him and he frowned at the little bracelet. “Too bad he’s disowned me.”   “Jungkook said you were looking for me?” came Jimin’s voice from the entrance of the dressing room.  Taehyung closed the box and placed it back in his jacket pocket.   “Uh, yeah,” I made my way toward Jimin. “Jin’s actually looking for you, wants to see you in his office.”   “Oh,” Jimin smirked a little and turned to leave. “Thank you, hyung.”   “What’s got him so smug?” Hoseok asked after he walked past Jimin into the dressing room.  “And why are you always in here? You’re a bartender.”   “What crawled up your ass?” I bit back, watching as Hoseok crossed the room to his vanity.   “Sorry,” he sighed, slumping down into his chair.  “I got absolutely nosleep last night.”   “Take a nap or something,” I laughed, nudging his shoulder. “Your clients aren’t gonna like it if you’re acting like a bitch.”   “Actually, some of them might,” Hoseok giggled.   “So why were you up all night,” I asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror.   “I kept thinking about that Namjoon guy,” Hoseok’s brow furrowed.   “Him?” I looked down at him. “It’s been like two weeks since he came in.”   “I know.” Hoseok sounded exhausted. “Why wouldn’t he have come back?”   “Maybe he was too freaked the last time,” I half-joked, the guy was kinda skittish after all.   “Don’t say that,” Hoseok shoved at my hip. “He seemed fine with it after a while.”   “I’m sure it’s nothing, Hoseok,” I put a hand on his shoulder, but his face still dropped.     Hoseok learned the meaning of the phrase “speak of the devil, and he shall appear” first hand that night.  I had just handed Jungkook a drink when I turned and spotted a familiar lanky blonde sitting at the bar.  I shook my head in disbelief because damn,the universe is funny sometimes.   “You again?” I teased as I approached him. “Namjoon, right?”   “Yeah,” he smiled shyly, then frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”   “That’s because I never told you,” I smiled at him. “I’m Yoongi.”   “Yoongi,” he tested it out. “I’m here to see Jay again.”   “Thank god,” I muttered.   “What?” he looked confused.   “Nothing, I’ll take you back-”   “Min, who is this?” Jin appeared behind Namjoon just as I was walking around the bar.   “I-I’m Namjoon,” he stammered.   “He’s here to see Jay,” I got out before Namjoon could say anything else.   “Is he?” Jin looked Namjoon up and down with scrutinizing eyes.  I booked it to the other side of the bar and stopped by Jin’s side.     “He’s fine, Jin,” I whispered in his ear. “Trust me.”   Jin hummed, looked Namjoon over one more time, then said, “Fine, send him back.”   I let out the breath I was holding as Jin walked away.  I took Namjoon by the arm and once again led him to the private room.  He sat on the same couch as the last time, in the same exact spot, and waited patiently for Jayto come in.     “Hoseok!” I whisper-yelled into the dressing room.   “What?” Hoseok whisper-yelled back.   “You have a client,” I told him with a grin.   “Why are you telling me?” his brow furrowed. “Where’s Jin?”   “Who did I lead back here last time?” I hinted.   “Namjoon, but he-” Hoseok’s eyes went wide. “No.”   “Yes,” I smiled at his reaction.   “He really came back?” Hoseok was back to whisper-yelling.   “Yes, now go get him,” I said as I shoved Hoseok toward the private room.   Hoseok stood outside the door to the private room for several long moments just trying to keep his heart from beating straight out of his chest.  His hands shook a little as he ran them through his hair.  And just when he thought he was calm enough, he opened the door and was proven very wrong once he saw Namjoon smile at him.   “Long time, no see,” Hoseok said as he closed the door behind him.   “I wanted to come back sooner,” Namjoon stood and reached out for Hoseok. “I wanted to see you, Jay.”   “Hoseok,” he giggled at Namjoon’s blatant confusion. “That’s my real name.”   “You’re real name?” Namjoon smiled when he tested it on his own tongue, “Hoseok.”   Without another word between the two, Namjoon pulled Hoseok in and kissed him slowly.  He let his hands roam down Hoseok’s sides, his fingers grazing the warm skin under the hem of Hoseok’s shirt.  After the initial shock of the kiss wore off, Hoseok wrapped his arms around Namjoon’s neck and took the lead.  His tongue flooded Namjoon’s mouth, and he swallowed Namjoon’s first moan of the night.   Namjoon backed up until the back of his knees hit the couch, and he dropped, pulling Hoseok with him.  Hoseok climbed into Namjoon’s lap, straddling him, and began rolling his hips.  Namjoon broke the kiss to just look at Hoseok, to take him in for all he was.   “Namjoon,” Hoseok broke the trance Namjoon was in. “Do you want to do this? For real?”   “I do,” Namjoon said confidently. “I know you’ll take care of me, better than anyone else could.”   Hoseok smiled and pecked Namjoon’s lips once before asking, “Do you want to top or bottom?”   “Wh-what does that mean?” Namjoon lost all his newfound confidence.   “You’re gay, and you don’t know what a top or bottom is?” Hoseok asked incredulously.   “I didn’t… I didn’t know I was gay-”   “Until you met me?” Hoseok finished for him.   “Until I met you,” Namjoon continued, “and couldn’t stop thinking about you.”   “You-” Hoseok blushed a vibrant red, smiling hard when Namjoon kissed his cheek.   “Hoseok,” he pulled Hoseok in close, kissed him deep, then whispered in his ear, “take care of me.”   Something in Hoseok stirred, and the verynoticeable bulge in Namjoon’s jeans made him spring into action.  He placed his hands on Namjoon’s chest and gently pushed until he was lying on his back.  Hoseok kissed down his jawline, his neck, as he undid Namjoon’s jeans and began sliding them down his thighs.  Namjoon sat up and put his hands on Hoseok’s waist, tugging at his shirt until Hoseok pulled it off over his head.  Namjoon ran his hands down Hoseok’s chest, to his carved stomach, to the waistband of his jeans.  Hoseok leaned down to kiss Namjoon as his fingers fumbled with Hoseok’s zipper.   “Wait-” Hoseok placed a gentle hand over Namjoon’s.   “What is it?” Namjoon asked with worried eyes.   “I’ll be right back,” Hoseok pecked him on the lips and walked across the room. “Get rid of that shirt while I’m at it.”   Namjoon hurriedly stripped off his shirt, just in time to see Hoseok returning with a condom, bottle of lube, and no pants.   “You’re so beautiful, baby,” Hoseok cooed, and Namjoon turned bright red at the compliment.     “I can’t be as beautiful as you,” Namjoon said under his breath, not daring to look Hoseok in the eye. Hoseok beamed at Namjoon, leaning down to kiss him again.   “Namjoon,” he broke away. “I’m going to be as gentle as I possibly can-”   “Is it going to hurt?” Namjoon asked shyly.   “Yeah, it’ll hurt at first,” Hoseok ran a calming hand through Namjoon’s hair.  Namjoon leaned into the touch.     “That’s okay,” Namjoon looked up at Hoseok. “I just- I want you so bad.”   Hoseok kissed Namjoon gently, slowly, as he warmed the lube on his fingers.  Namjoon’s hands explored every inch of Hoseok’s skin that they could reach, and Hoseok massaged Namjoon’s thigh with his clean hand.   “Kiss me, Namjoon,” Hoseok whispered against his lips. “Just focus on kissing me.”   So Namjoon kissed him, letting his tongue invade Hoseok’s mouth.  Meanwhile, Hoseok’s fingers were circling Namjoon’s entrance.  He slowly pushed in the first finger, and Namjoon gasped.   “Relax, baby,” Hoseok whispered, pecking Namjoon’s lips. He worked Namjoon’s entrance slowly, backtracking at the slightest whince. Hoseok didn’t stop until Namjoon was moaning instead of gritting his teeth, when he finally stretched him enough.   “Are you ready?” Hoseok leaned his forehead against Namjoon’s.   “Yes,” Namjoon panted. “Please, Hoseok-”   Hoseok kissed him hard, sliding the condom on and nudging his head against Namjoon’s entrance.  He slowly pushed in, minding the way Namjoon bit down on his lip at the stretch.  But he let Namjoon bite him, gladly taking any ounce of the pain away that he possibly could.  Namjoon’s nails dug shallowly into Hoseok’s back, and he let out a small whine.   “Are you okay, baby?” Hoseok whispered against Namjoon’s ear.   “Please, just keep going,” Namjoon begged, breathless.   So Hoseok kept going, kept pushing until he was buried to the hilt, and Namjoon’s breath had evened out.  Namjoon wiggled his hips after a while, and Hoseok began to pull out slowly, shallowly, before pushing back in just as slowly. Namjoon’s head was tilted back against the armrest, his chest heaving.  Hoseok kept his pace slow, so afraid that he was going to hurt Namjoon, make him never want to come back.  But Namjoon had never felt something like this in his life, and he was not about to give it up.   “God, Hoseok,” Namjoon growled as he pulled Hoseok close to him. “I’m not going to break.”   “You want me to go faster?” Hoseok asked, unsure.   “Yes.”   Hoseok had Namjoon moaning so loud, he was beginning to doubt the abilities of the soundproof walls.  Namjoon’s hands were everywhere, clawing down Hoseok’s back, gripping the armrest under his head, tugging at Hoseok’s soft orange hair.     At the same time, Hoseok’s hands were planted firmly on Namjoon’s hips, keeping him stable as Hoseok pounded into him.  Hoseok swore he got the better end of the deal because his view was pure sin.  Namjoon’s sweat-slicked skin glowing, his exposed throat waiting to be ruined, his face twisted in absolute pleasure.  Hoseok had to hold himself back from cumming just at the sight of Namjoon alone.   “H-Hoseok,” Namjoon panted. “I’m so c-close…”   “Let go, baby,” Hoseok angled Namjoon’s hips so he hit him deeper, and Namjoon almost screamed out as his orgasm struck him like a damn tidal wave.  He tightened around Hoseok so much, it almost hurt.  But Hoseok soon followed Namjoon, spilling into the condom and slowly pulling out.     Hoseok stood, legs feeling like jelly from the work they had done, and threw away the condom.  He came back with a cloth to clean Namjoon’s chest only to find him half asleep. Hoseok smiled down at him, wishing they were somewhere else so Hoseok could lie with him and sleep.   “Hey there,” Hoseok knelt down and shook Namjoon’s shoulder.  “I know you’re tired, baby, but you gotta get up.”   Hoseok cleaned up Namjoon’s chest, watching it rise and fall slowly, and Namjoon opened his eyes.   “Can’t we just… cuddle?” Namjoon asked with a shy smile.   “I wish we could,” Hoseok laughed, smiling back at him.  “The club’s probably closing soon.”   “Oh yeah,” Namjoon frowned.  He sat up, reached for his discarded jeans and handed Hoseok his own.  They both slipped them on, Hoseok next reaching for his shirt while Namjoon reached into his pocket.   “What are you doing?” Hoseok asked once he pulled his shirt on.   “I finally have the money to pay you,” Namjoon opened up his wallet. “I had to take a few extra shifts at work-”   “Namjoon,” Hoseok said under his breath.   “Okay, a lotof extra shifts-”   “Namjoon,” Hoseok said a little more confidently. “I don’t want your money.”   “What do you mean?” Namjoon asked, genuinely confused.   “Being with you is enough,” Hoseok smiled at Namjoon, wallet forgotten in his lap.  Namjoon kissed Hoseok one last time before he left, before Hoseok insisted he didn’t pay him. The kiss was slow, slower than all the others, and filled with something neither Namjoon nor Hoseok knew how to describe just yet.     “Yoongi, he’s just… different,” Hoseok told me as he sat at the bar, shortly after watching Namjoon leave. “He makes me feel something, and I can’t explain it.”   “You know,” I said as I poured a drink for Taehyung. “You get this look on your face when you talk about him.”   “What kind of look-”   “Min, my office,” came Jin’s voice from behind Hoseok. “Now.”   I handed the drink to Taehyung, stepped out from behind the bar, and followed Jin into his office.  Jin was rounding his desk, and I had just shut the door behind me when I heard it.   “Get off me!” Jungkook yelled. I swung the door open again, watching it happen from the sidelines.  No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t move a muscle, I couldn’t run out there and save him.  And I never forgave myself for it.   Jungkook was trying to pull away, trying to pry the man’s arms off his body.  He was scared -- so scared -- with eyes so wide they looked like they could burst, tears slowly falling down his cheeks, lips trembling from the pure panic coursing in his veins.   And there was nothing I could do.   “What the hell?!” Taehyung ran onto the scene, wrapping his arm around the man’s neck from behind and pulling him away.  The man reached up to grab Taehyung’s arm, trying to pull him off.  Jungkook fell to the floor, trying to catch his breath.   Taehyung let go of the man’s neck only to aim a punch to his jaw.  The man stumbled back, clutching his face in his hand, and Taehyung pulled him forward.  He led him to the front entrance and shoved him to the ground.   “Don’t show your fucking face around here again,” Taehyung spat, slamming the door shut.  Jungkook had gotten up from the floor and ran into the dressing room.  Taehyung turned around in time to just see him disappear through the door, and he followed after him.   “Min, what the hell-”   But I didn’t hear him finish that question.  I ran to the dressing room as fast as my legs could carry me, ignoring Hoseok’s call from the bar, ignoring everything around me.  I tore through the room, stopping only when I got to dressing room entrance.     The only people in the room were Taehyung and Jungkook, no one else. Taehyung gripped Jungkook by the shoulders, but Jungkook only looked down at the floor, tears still streaming down his cheeks.  Taehyung dropped one hand, went to pull away, but Jungkook looked up suddenly. He looked into Taehyung’s eyes, ran his tongue across his lips, then leaned up and kissed Taehyung.  A soft kiss, a needy kiss.   And all I could do was watch. Chapter End Notes Thanks for sticking around <3 ***** first love ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "I remember that time, what I darkly forgot." Chapter Notes no smut today boys but there IS backstory so wassup also kinda Yoongi centric OH YEAH AND GORE: if things going into eyeballs makes your skin crawl, maybe read cautiously See the end of the chapter for more notes “Yoongi!” Hoseok yelled as his fists pounded on the door.  I was perfectly awake, I think -- at least enough to hear Hoseok calling for me -- but I couldn’t move.  I didn’t want to move.     “You better not be dead or something,” Hoseok growled, giving up on the pounding.  The door creaked open, and he stepped inside, cautiously making his way into the bedroom.     “ God , Yoongi,” he sighed upon finding me curled up on the bed. “You look like you’re on death’s doorstep.”   “Be a doll and ring the bell for me,” I mumbled into a pillow.   “Get up, Yoongi,” Hoseok tugged on my arm, tone sharp. “I’m not babysitting your sorry ass.”   I shot a glare at him but got up nonetheless.  He threw me a clean shirt from the closet, watching me closely to make sure I didn’t collapse onto the bed again.  His pursed lips and furrowed brows said “angry”, but his eyes were a different story.  Hoseok looked at me with intense pity, something that burned right through me.   I finally collected myself -- shed last night’s clothes and washed the self- loathing off my face -- and Hoseok led the way through my apartment.  He stopped in the living room and turned to me, hands on his hips.   “What the hell happened, Yoongi?” he gestured to the few empty bottles of cheap beer littering the floor.   “Day drinking got the better of me,” I shrugged and pouted, maybe still a little drunk.   “And you didn’t bother to lock the door,” Hoseok sighed, hand meeting his forehead and massaging the stress out. “What if someone came in and slashed your throat or something?”   “It probably would’ve hurt less than this, for one,” I muttered under my breath, not fully wanting Hoseok to hear.  No matter how much I slept that morning, how much I drank that afternoon, the pain from the night before still ripped through me.   Hoseok and I walked to the club in complete silence, going our separate ways without a word once inside.  Glasses from the night before were still waiting to be cleaned, bottles of alcohol not yet sitting on their correct shelves.  In that moment, I kicked myself for deciding to leave early the night before.   I had just straightened the last bottle when Jin approached the bar.  His face was as emotionless as ever, but his usually cold eyes were tired, and his typically styled blonde hair was disheveled. “Min, I still need to see you,” even his voice sounded drained.  Confused, I followed Jin into his office, slowly closing the door behind me yet again.  The scene was all too familiar as Jin rounded his desk, taking a seat in his office chair.  But I couldn’t sit, the anxiety coursing through my body wouldn’t let me, paranoid that I’d hear Jungkook’s screams again.   “You look like hell,” Jin’s voice brought me back to earth.   “Yeah, didn’t sleep well,” I ran a hand through my hair just to feel something.   “Look, I need you to do something for me,” Jin tried to switch into business mode, but he couldn’t seem to find the energy.   “What do you need?” I stepped farther into the room, closer to Jin’s desk.   “I need you to meet a colleague of mine-”   “ Jin ,” my tone was warning, suddenly sober.     “Is there a problem, Min?” his eyes narrowed.     “I said I wouldn’t do that for you anymore,” I stepped even closer, fists clenching at my sides. “Not after the last time.”   ===============================================================================   “I’m at the warehouse now,” I spoke into the phone. “How many guys are gonna be in here?”   “Just the one,” Jin’s voice crackled through the speaker. “But he’ll be armed-”   “And you think I’m not ?” I joked, smirk plastered on my face. “Don’t doubt me, Jin.”   “I wasn’t about to,” Jin replied.  “Just make sure it’s all there before you leave with it.”   “Got it,” I checked the gun in my waistband one more time, titled the rim of my hat just a notch lower. “I’m going in.”   I hung up without waiting for a reply, sliding the phone back into my pocket.  I lifted my black mask back over my nose, tilted my hat just a tad more.  The door to the warehouse was heavy, but I pulled it open and slipped inside, letting it fall closed behind me. The space seemed empty, dark except for a small overhead light in the very center of the large room.  I stuck close to the shadows as I moved, wanting to see him before he saw me.   The sound of the front door opening must have alerted him because he soon stepped cautiously into the large room.  He stood in the small patch of light, making himself completely vulnerable.   Stupid.   “Where’s the shipment?” my low voice seemed to boom throughout the large room. The man flinched, looked around to find the source of my voice.  He opened his mouth, perhaps to call out, but I stepped out of the shadows before he made a sound.     “It’s in the back,” he looked me up and down as if he just couldn’t figure me out.  Which was the idea, I suppose. “Do you have the money?”   “It’s all here, count it yourself,” I pulled out a thick wad of cash, tossing it to the man.  He scrambled to catch it, clutching it to his chest. “Now take me to the shipment.”   “You’re not Kim,” the man muttered, hand reaching for his gun.   “Excuse me?” I stepped closer to the man, fingers surreptitiously wrapping around my own gun. “There isn’t a problem, is there?”   The man watched as I stepped closer to him, not daring to make a move to scare me off.  He studied me, my stature, the way I walked.  He was right, I wasn’t Kim -- not even close.  I circled behind him, his eyes following me as I did so.  I pressed the barrel of my gun into his back, other hand on his shoulder.     “Don’t make me say it again,” I whispered in his ear, digging my gun just slightly deeper.   He stayed silent for a few moments, looked at me out of the corner of his eye.  For a fraction of a second, I saw the recognition in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come.  He stepped forward, right… left… right…   Then he grabbed the wrist by his shoulder, twisted my arm around my body, and held me against him.  I tried to squirm free, but he was much stronger than me.     “I’ll be damned,” he laughed into my ear, his fingers ripping the mask from my face. “If it isn’t Min  Yoongi .  We all thought you were dead.”   Shit.   “Believe in ghosts?” I growled. I still had my gun in my hand, but I couldn’t get it in an ideal position.  The shot had to be one and done, quick as possible to save my identity.     “I don’t really think you’re in the position to be cracking jokes, Min,” he snarled, digging his gun into my side.  I squirmed more, if only to throw him off a bit as I thought of an out. I glanced down, noticed that the angle I had provided a clean shot to the man’s leg.  So I pulled the trigger…   “God, fuck!” the man screamed, letting go of me and falling to the floor in a heap.  One of his swinging arms knocked the gun from my hand, sending it sliding across the floor.   …and bolted .   I ran into the first room I saw, hiding myself in the shadows once again.  I shot Jin a short text (“Get here, now .”) and held my breath. Looking around the room, I noticed it was smaller than the one we were just in.  The boxes stacked up along the walls looked suspiciously like the shipment I was sent to pick up.  But first thing’s first… the man had to die.   “Where are you?!” he bellowed.  His voice sounded close, but he was moving extremely slow.  Still, I kept my breath even, didn’t move from my hiding spot.  I saw an old screwdriver lying close by, and while it wasn’t an ideal weapon, it was a weapon nonetheless.   Still covered by shadow, I tread lightly around the room, trying to find the right moment to strike.  He man hobbled into the room’s center, blood trail leading from the main room.  He squinted his eyes as if he was looking for me but couldn’t find me.  He was staring right at me, but I blended too well, and he turned to the other side of the room.     When his back was turned, I emerged into the light.  With careful steps, I came within two feet of him.     “Looking for me?” I snickered in his ear as I wrapped my left arm around his neck, pulling his body against my chest.   Now or never .   Blood gushed from his eye as the screwdriver went in, and his scream of pure agony could tear at anyone’s skin.  I threw him to the ground, still wailing in pain, and stomped on the handle of the screwdriver.     The sickening crunch as the metal broke his skull, the dark red blood that threatened to stain my shoes, the way his screeches just… stopped .   I stepped over his body to look over the shipment, intent on checking everything just as Jin instructed.  Just then, gravel rumbled under tires and headlights shone dimly through the dusty windows. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sighed at the message from Jin (“On the way.”) shining brightly in the dark room.   “Why was your gun lying on the floor?”  Jin stepped into the room, balancing the gun in his hand. His eyes followed the blood trail on the floor to the man’s body, still warm, with the screwdriver sticking straight from his eye socket. Jin smirked, “The better question is, how did this happen?”   Jin gestured to the body carelessly as he stepped over him.  He joined me in looking over the boxes.   “He recognized me,” I said, voice cold. “Couldn’t risk him running his mouth.”   “You’re not wrong,” Jin shrugged. “Start moving the boxes outside, I have a truck waiting.”   It was tedious work, moving all the boxes outside, trying to avoid the body still on the floor.  Jin mostly watched as I traveled back and forth, carrying box after box of god knows what.     “I’ll get the rest of the boxes, Min,” Jin said, and I sighed in relief. “You did well.”   Jin loaded the last box into the truck, told the driver where to take the shipment, and climbed into the driver’s seat of his own car where I was waiting in the passenger side.  Without a word, he handed my gun back to me.  Without a word, he drove back into the city, dropping me off in a neutral location.   The walk to my apartment seemed longer that night.  Every shadow was someone who recognized my face, every passerby threatened to cry wolf to the higher-ups who wanted my head.  I was only able to relax once I was locked inside my apartment, sweat- and blood-soaked clothes free from my body.  There was never any hope of sleeping easy that night.   But it’s funny how little taking someone’s life seemed to affect me.   Funny.   ===============================================================================   “Do it yourself, Jin,” and I left his office without another word, without so much as a glance in his direction.   I ran yet another hand through my hair, down my face, dragging my body to the bar.  Pulling up a barstool, I looked on toward the rest of the room.  Jimin was stretching, getting ready to go over that night’s routine.  Hoseok had plopped himself down in one of the cushy chairs by the stage, more half-asleep than focusing on Jimin’s practice.  Taehyung stepped out from the dressing room, scowling at Jimin on stage and taking a seat on a stool next to me.  Jungkook was watching him from the entrance to the dressing room, looking like a lost puppy.   “Weird seeing you on this side of the bar,” Taehyung looked on at the rest of the room.   “Weird sitting on this side of the bar,” I muttered under my breath.   “Is something wrong, hyung?” Taehyung finally turned to me.   “It’s nothing,” I lied, then nodded in Jungkook’s direction. “What’s up with him?”   Taehyung followed my eyes and sighed, bowing his head.   “He tried to make a move on me last night,” he still looked down.   “The kiss,” I whispered to myself, but Taehyung looked directly at me.   “Wha- you know about that?” his eyes were wide.   “Uh, Hoseok told me,” I lied again. Thinking had suddenly started to hurt.   “Oh,” Taehyung turned to face the room again. “No, he made a move at the apartment.”   “The apartment?” I didn’t want to talk anymore.   “Yeah, he-” Taehyung took a breath. “He kissed me, but rougher than the first time.  Pushed me down onto the bed-”   “Did he?” I questioned. Breathing had suddenly started to hurt.   “I told him that it was a bad idea, that he was just hurt,” he continued. “He told me to stop treating him like a baby all the time.”   I stayed silent.   “I mean, I’m all here for comforting him,” he shrugged. “You know, like holding him when he thinks about his family-”   “You do that?” I looked back at the dressing room entrance, but Jungkook had already left.   “A lot, actually,” Taehyung paused, sighed. “But I’m not going to take advantage of him like that.”   I nodded.   “I mean,” he continued. “If I’m going to sleep with him, I want it to feel right.”   Living had suddenly started to hurt.   ***** “I’m fine,” I insisted. Hoseok didn’t buy it.   “Yoongi, I saw you downing drinks behind the bar,” Hoseok wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “I’m walking you home.”   “I told you I wanted to walk alone,” I weakly tried to push his arm off.   “You’ll end up in a ditch somewhere if you do that,” Hoseok opened the front door, and began half-dragging me to the apartment. I decided it was probably better to go with him instead of fight it, but I kept my mouth shut.  Anything that was running through my head would hurt so much more if I put it into words.   If I made it real.   “Keys,” Hoseok held out his hand when we stopped outside my apartment door.  I fished around my pockets for my keys, dropping them into Hoseok’s hand once I found them.  He led me inside, dropped me on the bed, and looked around for more comfortable clothes.     “Change,” he demanded, throwing the clothes into my lap. “What the hell is wrong with you?”   “In general?” I asked through the shirt I was pulling over my head. “Or recently?”   “Recently,” Hoseok sighed. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”   “Just going through some stuff,” I said to the drawstring on my sweatpants. “Fighting my inner demons or some shit.”   “ Yoongi ,” Hoseok’s voice was like a warning.   “I’ll make it out alive,” I shrugged, finally changed. “Promise.”   “Yeah, you better,” Hoseok ruffled my hair and started to walk out. “I’m gonna lock the door on my way out, okay?”   “Okay, mom,” I called to his retreating back, laughing into the pillow when he flipped me off.   Hoseok switched off the lights, turned the lock on the apartment door, and stepped over the threshold, heading for his own apartment down the hall.  Hoseok was too good to me, and he always had been.  I never asked for his help, for his friendship -- I had always seemed too proud.   But Hoseok was so good to me. Chapter End Notes This might be my favorite chapter not even sorry about it <3 ***** reflection ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "Only I am walking without purpose. Even so, blending in here is comfortable." “Hey, Namjoon,” I smiled as he took a seat at the bar. “Should I get used to seeing you here?”   “Probably,” he laughed, smiling down at his hands.   “You know, you should just ask him out if you like him so much,” I teased.   “I- actually,” he looked up, shy. “That’s why I’m here.”   “Wow,” I nudged his shoulder. “And here I thought you were just horny.”   He shot a glare at me, but only for a second before he laughed.  His smile faded after a minute, hand running through his hair and bottom lip getting caught between his teeth.     “I’m just-” he sighed. “I’ve never done this before.”   “Don’t worry,” I smiled, tousled his hair a bit.  Namjoon wrinkled his nose and straightened out his bangs, cleaning up his appearance just in time for Hoseok to approach the bar.   “Coming out of your cave?” I called as he got closer.   “And I’ve been doing just fine,” he smiled, obviously proud of himself.   “I said ‘cave’, Hoseok,” I smirked.   “Oh,” his smiled dropped. “Now I don’t wanna talk to you.”   “Fine,” I turned my back on him, reaching for a bottle of rum. “You have a guest anyway.”   He looked around, brows furrowed, until he spotted Namjoon sitting a few stools away.  At the sight of Namjoon, Hoseok’s entire face brightened up.     “Yoongi,” he whispered.   “What is it?” I whispered back.   “Do I look okay?” he stood away from the bar so I could get a look.  Not that it mattered; Hoseok always looked good, especially to Namjoon.   “You look great,” I smiled. He gave me two excited thumbs-up and left his place, appearing again beside Namjoon.   “Hey, stranger,” he laughed at how Namjoon nearly fell off the stool.   “God, you scared me,” Namjoon clutched at his chest. “What’s up?”   “Slow night,” Hoseok sat on the stool next to Namjoon. “Are you here to see me?”   “Of course I am,” Namjoon smiled at Hoseok, making him blush slightly.   “Should we take this somewhere… private ?” Hoseok whispered the last word, placing a gentle hand on Namjoon’s thigh.   “Uh- actually,” Namjoon was suddenly nervous again. “ That isn’t what I’m here for.”   Hoseok looked confused, but didn’t say anything.  He was about to remove his hand, but Namjoon laid his own hand over Hoseok’s.  He rubbed his thumb slowly over the back of Hoseok’s hand, eyes trained on Hoseok’s own, now wide.   “I was wondering,” he began, taking a deep breath and laughing nervously. “Would you maybe… wanna go out with me? Sometime?”   “I would love to,” Hoseok beamed, pecking Namjoon on the cheek.  Namjoon blushed, smiled down at the floor. Leave it to Hoseok to fall for the sweetest man alive -- though if you asked Namjoon, he would’ve said it was the other way around.   As I watched the two make their plans, I felt the air around the bar shift.  Then, as if on cue, Jin appeared out of nowhere like a stormcloud ready to rain on the others’ parade.   “When do you get off tonight?” Namjoon asked.   “I’ll be done around 2-”   “You better cut that shit out, Hoseok,” Jin whispered in Hoseok’s ear, and Hoseok went instantly cold. “Wouldn’t want any potential clients getting the wrong idea, would we ?”   Jin walked away with his face stone cold, heading to the dressing room.     “You should probably go,” Hoseok looked down at their intertwined fingers with a frown. “I’ll come get you when I leave. Where do you live?”   “Uh, you don’t have to,” Namjoon visibly panicked. “I’ll just meet you somewhere.”   So they agreed to meet up at some dodgy restaurant, one of the only ones open at 2am.  Hoseok watched as Namjoon left the club, turning back and waving to Hoseok before he stepped onto the street. Hoseok had this lovestruck smile on his face, one that didn’t leave until later that night.   “I think I have feelings for him,” Jimin said more to the bar than to anyone in particular.   “The human robot?” I teased. Jimin scowled up at me, then his face softened.   “Wait,” Hoseok stopped on his way to the door, on his way to meet Namjoon.  “You’re falling for Jin?”   “I think I might be,” Jimin sighed, spinning on the stool to look at Hoseok.   “How can you even stand him?” Hoseok scowled.   “What do you mean?” Jimin stood.   “He’s terrible, Jimin,” Hoseok shrugged, walking closer to him. “Almost pure evil.”   “He is not ,” Jimin defended. “He’s different.”   “Oh yeah, because pulling your hair and calling you a slut is another way of saying he loves you,” Hoseok was almost yelling.   “What’s wrong with that?” Jimin almost-yelled back.   “It’s demeaning ,” Hoseok scowled. “If someone said that shit to me, I’d throw them out.”   Jimin didn’t have anything more to say -- he didn’t understand Hoseok, and Hoseok didn’t understand him.  He looked down at the floor, unable to meet Hoseok’s dagger stare, and walked back into the dressing room. Hoseok sighed and walked up to the bar, placing his palms on the surface and leaning in.   “There’s something else, isn’t there?” I asked, but Hoseok just looked confused. “He did something more than pimp you out.”   “I-” Hoseok sighed, looked back to the dressing room, to Jin’s office, making sure no one else was around. He leaned in closer, gesturing for me to do the same. “I never told you this, never thought I would be able to, but Jin and I-”   “Did you-”   “ Yes, ” Hoseok hissed, looked around again, then hung his head. “It was a while after I started dancing here, after Jimin came along. Jin and I -- and don’t ask me how it happened -- but we got drunk after you guys went home.”   “You and Jin were drinking together?” I asked incredulously. “Like crack open a cold one with the boys kind of drinking?”   “I told you not to ask,” Hoseok sighed. “ Anyway , he kissed me out of the blue. Like grabbed me and kissed me like he’d been wanting to do it the whole time. And, being drunk, I kissed him back. One thing led to another, and he took me back to his place-”   “He took you back to his place?” I whisper-yelled. “What’s it like?”   “Expensive, but that’s not the point,” he whisper-yelled back.   “You’re right. Continue.”   “Obviously, we had sex,” Hoseok rolled his eyes, then dropped his voice even lower. “But like, really good sex. I bailed before he woke up, hoping to avoid the whole situation, but the next day at the club-”   “He gave you the new job,” I whispered, more to myself.   “Would you stop interrupting?” he hit me in the shoulder, but continued. “Yeah, that was what I got for sleeping with him, for making the worst mistake possible. A new job. ”   Hoseok spit the last words like they tasted bad on his tongue.  He stepped away from the bar, checked his watch, and straightened out his clothes.   “That’s my deal with Jin,” Hoseok concluded. “Now, I have a date to get to.”   He smiled at the thought of Namjoon and went on his way, shoving Jin to the back of his mind.  I put away the last of the glasses after he left, then made my way to check that the lights in the dressing room were off, but voices made me stop in my tracks.   “We’re alone,” came Jimin’s voice.   “Are you sure?” came Jin’s next.   “Hoseok just left,” Jimin’s footsteps got louder and louder, and I scrambled to hide around the corner. “And Yoongi isn’t out here, he must have gone with him.”   His footsteps disappeared back into the dressing room, assumingly closer to Jin. I got closer to the entrance to the room, purely out of curiosity. Peeking in, I saw Jimin sitting in Jin’s lap, running fingers through Jin’s hair and smirking down at him. Jin’s hands were roaming Jimin’s body, smoothing down his sides, gripping his thighs.   “You’re such a good pet,” Jin cooed, if such a tone could come from Jin.   Jimin frowned a little at the name, as if he was expecting more, but he leaned into Jin nonetheless.  Jimin kissed him softer than I would’ve anticipated, almost like he was trying to tell Jin what he was feeling without words.   “You know,” Jimin broke the kiss, smirking down at Jin and trailing a finger across his chest. “I don’t know much about you.”   Jin’s face hardened, almost imperceptibly, and his voice dropped low.   “Good. It should stay that way.”   He pulled Jimin closer to his chest, kissing him rougher than before.  Even though he didn’t get the answer he was looking for, Jimin gave into him easily.  Hips rolled against hips, Jin’s teeth grazed Jimin’s neck, and small whimpers started filling the room.     I took that as my cue to leave, the situation seemingly all too familiar.   I may have left the club before becoming a voyeur, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what went on -- I have my sources.     Jin had Jimin bent over the makeup counter, forcing Jimin to watch himself in the vanity’s mirror as he fell apart.  One of Jin’s hands wove into Jimin’s hair, pulling just enough to keep his head up, while the other colored Jimin’s ass a vibrant red. Jin watched himself disappear into Jimin, watched the way Jimin backed into each of his thrusts.  Jimin smirked at the effect he had on Jin, who was too proud to admit anything.   “ Harder , Jin,” Jimin snapped when Jin’s hand came down on his ass again. “You can do better than that.”   Jin pulled hard on Jimin’s hair, bringing his back against his own chest. Jimin was breathing heavy, moaning so loud, as Jin kept his pace at the new angle.  Jin kissed Jimin hard, biting into plush lips and swallowing the best sounds. He nibbled against the shell of Jimin’s ear, then dropped his voice to the rawest growl Jimin ever heard.   “What was that?”   “Harder, daddy,” Jimin was breathless. “ Please, fuck me harder-”   The hand not in Jimin’s hair closed around his throat, slowly applying more pressure.  The fuzziness drove Jimin crazy, bringing him that much closer to a sweet release.   “Are you done being a brat ?” Jin growled into his ear again. Jimin nodded.   Jin let go of Jimin, pushing him onto the counter.  His hands were on Jimin’s back, holding him down as Jin pounded into him at an even faster pace.  Jimin was past the point of moaning, instead letting out clipped whines as he came.     Jin looked at his own reflection, admired the way he towered over Jimin, the way he had complete control of him.  He smirked.   “On your knees,” he commanded, pulling out and letting up on Jimin’s back.  Jimin, cum covering his thighs and lower stomach, dropped to his knees in front of Jin, obediently waiting for his release.  Jimin gripped onto Jin’s thighs as he came into Jimin’s mouth, tongue poking out to collect every last drop.  Jimin got up, sat on top of the makeup counter, and wrapped his legs around Jin’s hips, pulling him close.   “Kiss me,” Jimin looked up at Jin with pleading eyes, and something flashed in Jin’s own for a split second.  He ran a hand along Jimin’s jaw, cupping his face before leaning in.  The kiss was soft, polar opposite to what had just taken place. Jin pulled away, Jimin’s bottom lip caught between his teeth.  He pressed his forehead to Jimin’s, breath almost leaving his lungs when Jimin looked into his eyes.   Jin felt something, something he didn’t recognize.  The words “come home with me tonight” almost spilled from his lips, almost fell upon Jimin’s ears.  Instead, he pulled away without saying anything. He slipped his clothes back over his body, ran a hand through his hair, and left the room. All without saying a word, without so much as glancing in Jimin’s direction.   Jimin still sat on the makeup counter, but his thoughts felt so much heavier than they did before. It had always been Jimin’s plan to find a way into Jin’s head, find a home for himself in Jin’s thoughts. But he never thought he would be the one to crumble, never thought he would be the one searching for something more.   How long had Jimin been trying to learn more about Jin?  How long had he wanted to know more?  He was falling in the most human way possible, drawn to the mystery.  Yet he was scared, scared of what he would find out.  Scared that he would get hurt again.   Jin noticed how Jimin had changed, how his touches became lighter. But being as cold as he was, he failed to notice why Jimin was acting that way.  The possibility that someone could love him was completely lost on Jin.  Not that he even knew how to love someone back.   The two kept to the physical aspect of things, that being what each of them knew best.  Jimin pushed Jin, and Jin pulled Jimin.  Some would say it was unhealthy, but they would say it was fun.  Jimin lived to push boundaries and test limits, while Jin breathed control and manipulation.  Match made in heaven, I suppose.   ===============================================================================   The clock read 11:17am when I rolled out of bed.  I stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, and started a pot of coffee.  Club nights really kicked my ass come morning.  After downing my first cup of coffee that day, I hopped into the shower.  Watching Jin and Jimin last night -- the little that I did -- made me feel dirty.     I shot Hoseok a text saying that I’d bring him breakfast -- well, lunch by that time -- and finished off one more cup of coffee before gathering my keys and wallet and heading out the door.  As I locked my apartment door, Hoseok’s opened down the hall.     “Hey, Hoseok,” I said more to the keys I was putting back in my pocket. “I was just gonna get-”   At that moment, I looked up, fully expecting Hoseok and not the tall blonde in front of me.  The tall blonde who was wearing clothes from the night before. Namjoon’s eyes widened and immediately dropped to the floor as he blushed.  He scratched the back of his neck, and ever so slowly looked up at me.   “Well hello , Namjoon,” I smirked. “Fancy seeing you here.” ***** mama ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "I know a grace like heaven now, mama." Chapter Notes See the end of the chapter for notes “Have you ever been in love?” Jimin asked, laying in one of the cushy chairs and staring at the ceiling.   “Love doesn’t exist,” Taehyung murmured as he walked past Jimin.  Jimin had suddenly sat up, glaring at Taehyung.   “Yes, it does,” Hoseok piped up from the bar. “Love is one of the most beautiful things someone can experience, I think.”   “And the most painful,” I said more to the glass in my hand than anyone in the room.   “I have to tell him,” Jimin sighed, back to scowling at the ceiling.   “Jimin, you’re just going to get hurt,” Hoseok tried reasoning with him, but talking to Jimin about Jin -- or anything, really -- was like talking to a brick wall.   “Says you,” Jimin spat. “You don’t know him like I do.”   “You’re so right,” Hoseok rolled his eyes and stood from his barstool. “How could I ever doubt you?”   Hoseok got out of the main room as fast as he could, taking shelter in the dressing room.  Jimin sat upright, watching with furrowed brows as he walked away.  Hoseok was never able to stand the way Jimin talked about Jin.  And unfortunately, Jimin could never know the reason why.     “What about you, hyung?” Jungkook asked as he approached the bar, breaking his own personal silence.   “What about me?” I forgot the original topic already, but Jungkook just smiled his typical Jungkook smile. The one that made you feel like you’d be young forever.   “How do you feel about love?” he asked innocently, still smiling.   “I dunno,” I shrugged. “I don’t have much experience in that department.”   “I don’t either,” Jungkook sighed, smile fading just a little. “Sometimes I think I know what it feels like, but…”   He trailed off, turning his head slightly over his shoulder.  Confused, I followed his gaze across the room.   Taehyung .  Maybe Jungkook really thought he loved Taehyung, but maybe -- bear with me here -- he was just seventeen and didn’t understand what love even was yet.   “That’s it,” Jimin stood from his cushy chair and straightened out his clothes. “I’m gonna tell him.”   So Jimin marched to Jin’s office, resolve etched into his face.  He took a deep breath, letting it out in a huff as he raised his hand to knock on Jin’s office door.  Before he could get the first knock in, however, Jin opened the door.  He almost plowed over Jimin, seemingly in a hurry, but sidestepped him last second.   “Jin, I-” Jimin began, but Jin had already walked past him. He huffed again, deciding to follow. “Jin, can I talk-”   “Not now, Jimin,” Jin kept walking toward the club’s entrance.   “But, Jin-” Jimin tried, his voice small. Jin had already opened the door, about to take his first step out when…   “Jin!” Jimin finally found his voice. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”   Jin stopped in the doorway, looking straight ahead at the street.  Jimin waited, holding his breath and wringing his hands.  But Jin just stood, facing away from Jimin, not saying a word.   “Jin-” Jimin’s voice was small again, so small. But at the sound of his name, Jin walked out and shut the door behind him. He never looked back.   Jin knew that if he did, he might have stayed.  He might have missed his “business meeting” if he had just seen how small Jimin looked. But Jin couldn’t afford to think that way, couldn’t afford to feel the way he felt about Jimin - - whatever it was. Because in Jin’s line of work, if could have gotten him killed.   “Well, what did you expect?” Taehyung shrugged. Jimin was still standing in the same spot, not even sparing Taehyung a glare at his question.   Maybe it wasn’t what Jimin expected -- wasn’t what he wanted -- but it didn’t appear to have hurt him or his pride.  Aside for the few minutes he stood by the door in shock, Jimin acted as if he wasn’t affected at all.  Like the event just rolled off his skin like water.     Jimin owned the stage as usual, captivating his audience with as much ease as ever.  He didn’t spare so much as a single glance at the door, waiting for Jin to walk through it.  He didn’t hold off on the enthusiasm, the power he put into his performance.  He didn’t let his smirk fade into a frown at Jin’s expense.   Jimin had always seemed so strong, even when he was falling apart at the seams.   ===============================================================================   “Say hello to Namjoon for me!” I called to Hoseok as he approached the front door.   “Stop tormenting him!” he called back, waving before stepping into the night, on his way to meet Namjoon at work.   “Hoseok-hyung seems really happy,” Jungkook smiled at the closed door.  He had been the only one sitting at the bar as I cleaned. Taehyung was still in the dressing room, and Jimin had long since gone home.   “Yeah, he does,” I couldn’t help but smile too.  Seeing Hoseok with those bright smiles he only got when he thought about Namjoon, it always took my breath away.   “I wonder what it’s like,” Jungkook sighed.   “What do you mean?” I stopped wiping down the bar to look at him.   “I dunno, I just-” he looked down at his lap. “I just want to feel wanted.”   “Jungkook,” my voice softened. “Come here.”   Jungkook looked at me with huge eyes before he slid off his stool.  He slowly walked around the bar, stopping once he stood in front of me, eyes trained on the floor the whole time.   “Look at me,” I tilted his chin so his eyes met mine. Seeing him so vulnerable, so small and desperate, struck me somewhere deep.   He should never have felt unwanted.   “Jungkook,” I kept my voice calm and low, but serious enough for him to know I meant every word. “You are beautiful -”   “Hyung-”   “No, listen to me,” I cut off his whine before he could really protest, placing my hand along his jaw, thumb smoothing across his cheek. “You are . You’re brave, strong, for looking the cruelness of life in the face and not backing down. Jungkook, you… you have no idea how important you are.”   He leaned into my touch, closing his eyes slowly as if to take it all in.   “Hyung?” his voice was almost breathless.   “What is it, Jungkookie?”   “Can I kiss you?”   My eyes went wide, mouth opening as if to say no.  But I didn’t stop caressing his cheek, didn’t stop myself when I said…   “Yes.”   He moved in, lips soft and light, almost as if he was about to back out.  I kissed him slow, gentle so as not to break him. He whimpered, and I kissed him harder, weaving my fingers through his raven black hair.   “Hyung,” he pulled away, the warmth of his hands burning my chest. “I wanna do something for you.”   “For me?” I furrowed my brows, but he smiled, before leaning back in.   “Shh,” and he kissed along my jaw, down my neck.  I was caught by surprise, not expecting that from Jungkook in the slightest.  I was sure it wasn’t right, that I should have stopped him before he did something he would regret.  But I was also sure that I didn’t want to stop him.   I ran both hands through his hair, trying so hard to keep my breathing calm.  His fingers played with the hem of my shirt, his warm hands felt like fire against my skin.  He slowly pushed my shirt higher, inch by inch, until he dropped to his knees and planted kisses on my stomach.   “Jungkook-” I was starting to panic, but it was so perfect. “What are you doing?”   “Giving my hyung what he deserves,” Jungkook looked up with huge eyes, the embodiment of pure innocence.  I couldn’t breathe.   “I don’t think-” he started palming me through my jeans.  No matter how much I wanted to stop it, how wrong it felt, I couldn’t get the words out.   He looked up one more time before he unzipped my jeans, and I gripped just a little tighter on his hair.  He pulled my jeans and boxers down together, just far enough for my length to spring free.  There was obviously no denying the effect Jungkook had on me then.   “Fuck-” Jungkook sank down as far as he could, his mouth so incredibly warm , gagging a little when he reached his limit. “Easy, Jungkook.”   His pace was slow, excruciatingly intimate, his hand working in time with his mouth to cover what he couldn’t fit.  Jungkook looked up at me with every kitten lick to the tip, every time he flattened out his tongue against me.  I had to keep myself from moaning out at the sight of him alone.   “Have you seen Jungkook?” Taehyung’s voice rang from just outside the dressing room.   “Jungkook?” I twisted around to look at Taehyung as he walked through the room to the front door. “Uh- he’s um- getting something from the back room for me.”   “Oh,” Taehyung cocked his head a bit. “Everything alright, hyung?”   “Everything’s fine,” I lied. Jungkook had not let up the whole time. “I’ll walk Jungkook- ah- home. You go ahead.”   Jungkook pulled off with a little smirk before he sank down again, even farther than before.   “Okay... goodnight, hyung,” and Taehyung stepped outside, closing the door behind him.   “Holy shit, Jungkook-” I was so breathless. “Are you insane-?”   Jungkook giggled a little, the vibrations sending a jolt through my body.  I tugged on his hair, maybe a little sharper than I meant to, and he quickened his pace.  Jungkook gripped onto my hips, making himself drool from sinking down so deep, and he moaned around me.   “God-” I cupped the side of his face again, feeling that elastic band about to snap. “Jungkook, I’m gonna cum-”   Jungkook pulled off with a pop , trying not to giggle at the sound, and started stroking me hard and fast.  My hips started bucking and he opened his mouth, cute little tongue waiting for me.  He made a face once my cum hit his tongue, but he swallowed and smiled shyly up at me.   I noticed some drool and cum that he didn’t quite get, and I swiped my thumb under his lip to clear it off.   “You’ve got some-” but Jungkook took my thumb into his mouth before I could pull away and sucked it clean.   We gathered ourselves and locked up the club, finally heading home for the night.  The walk to Jungkook and Taehyung’s apartment was quiet, the events of the night weighing down on the both of us.  Though Jungkook didn’t seem to feel as dirty, as wrong as I felt.  Then again, it was his idea in the first place.   He shot shy glances and barely-there smiles in my direction every few minutes.  I had to pretend that I didn’t notice them or else I would smile back.  The want to pull Jungkook close -- to kiss him and hold him -- was too strong. It almost made me forget about what we did, what he did.  It was wrong, but it felt so damn right.   ===============================================================================   “He works at that one gas station,” Hoseok was sitting at the bar instead of the dressing room, which was such a nice change. A nice distraction. “You know, the one open 24/7.”   “Does he work the graveyard shift?” I asked, making a drink for a customer down the bar.   “Only sometimes,” Hoseok frowned a little. “Which kinda sucks because his sleep schedule is fucked.”   “Hold that thought,” I finished the drink, dropping it off at the man who ordered it.  I walked around to the other side of the bar, passing Hoseok and telling him, “You’re in charge, hold down the fort.”   I passed through the crowd to the restrooms, needing desperately to just splash some cold water on my face.  I could not stop thinking about Jungkook the night before, and it was eating me alive.  The fluorescent lights burned, and I rubbed at my eyes as I stepped into the room.   When I finally opened my eyes, I wished I hadn’t.  At the far end of the room, Taehyung had Jungkook pinned against the mirror on the wall, his legs wrapped around Taehyung’s hips.  Taehyung was kissing him fiercely, moving from his lips to his jaw and down his neck.  Jungkook opened his eyes, noticing me standing at the entrance when he looked over Taehyung’s shoulder.   His eyes were almost pleading, but the way he was trying hard not to moan had my stomach turning in knots. I turned on my heel and walked out, unable to stand looking at him one second longer, not like that.   “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Hoseok told me once I got back to the bar.  I didn’t reply, couldn’t reply.  I had nothing to say.   To answer Jimin’s question, I have never been in love. Chapter End Notes Over halfway through! I hope you guys are liking it so far <3 ***** awake ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "The happy times ask me if I'm alright." Chapter Notes COMEBACK TOMORROW COMEBACK TOMORROW COMBA- I was looking for a line from the song for this chapter and holy fuck is awake sad/ someone help him See the end of the chapter for more notes “I don’t get it, hyung,” Jimin’s ass was back to taking up space on my bar. “How can he just… avoid me after that?”   “That’s just how he is,” I shrugged, straightening bottles on the shelves just for something to do.   “I know that, but wouldn’t you think he’d have something to say?” Jimin huffed, shoving his face into his hands.   “I dunno, Jimin,” I turned to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Jin isn’t wired like the rest of us, takes him longer to process human emotion.”   Jimin laughed a little bit, gave me a sad smile.  He opened his mouth, about to say something back to me, but Jin walked into the club at that moment.  Jimin turned to him, shutting his mouth tight, and immediately averting his eyes. Jin started toward the bar, tapping the surface when he got close.   “Min,” he called. “I’ve arranged a client for Hoseok tonight, make sure he knows.”   “Can do,” I nodded.   “Oh, and Jimin,” Jin had already turned toward his office, away from Jimin. “I suggest you start warming up. You’re not doing any good sitting around like that.”   And he walked off, leaving Jimin to scowl at his retreating back.  Jimin hopped off the bar, straightened his clothes, then headed toward the stage.   “I really don’t get it,” he muttered, shaking his head at the thought.   Jin’s suggestion must have done something because -- whether it was his extra practice or his burning spite -- Jimin performed with a certain fire that night.  His outfit was more revealing, his routine more provocative, his expressions more suggestive.  He engaged the crowd in ways he never had before.     And on top of that, Jimin decided to start giving lap dances.  Without Jin’s knowledge.  He allowed the customers to touch him, relishing in the way they sought after his body.  It had never occurred to Jimin that there was a reason Jin never suggested lap dances before, that it maybe wasn’t a good idea.   Because it was not a good idea.   And while I was trying to keep an eye on Jimin, trying to make sure he didn’t do anything too stupid, a lanky blonde stole all my attention.   “Hey, Yoongi,” Namjoon smiled as he approached the bar, not taking a seat like usual.   “Here to see Hoseok?” I asked even though the answer was obvious.   “Yup,” he laughed, started walking again. “I was just on my way back to see him.”   “Wait-” it hit me that Hoseok had a client that night. “Namjoon, you shouldn’t- ”   “It’s fine, Yoongi,” Namjoon smiled, kept walking toward the dressing rooms.   “No, Namjoon-” the music was drowning out my voice, and Namjoon was getting farther away.  I followed after him to the back, fighting the crowd just to stop him from walking in on Hoseok with someone else.   Namjoon stepped into the dressing room, looking around but not seeing anyone.  He was standing outside the private room’s door when I got there, already knocking delicately.   “Hoseok? It’s me,” he called as he turned the doorknob.  His beautifully bright smile faded as soon as he opened the door, eyes going wide and jaw dropping.   “Namjoon?” Hoseok called, probably scrambling to put as much distance as possible between him and his client.   “I’m sorry, I-” Namjoon backed away, covering his eyes with his hand.  He ran into the dressing room, leaning up against the makeup counter and breathing rapidly.   “Namjoon, what are you-” Hoseok came out, wrapping a silky robe hastily around his body. “Baby, you’re hyperventilating.”   “Hoseok, I-” Namjoon’s eyes were everywhere, his breathing not slowing down for anyone.   “ Breathe , Joon,” Hoseok took Namjoon’s face between his hands, eyes wide with concern.   “I- you were-” Namjoon was still at a loss for words, not seeming to find them again any time soon.   “You know this is my job, Namjoon,” Hoseok said seriously. “You know this is what I do .”   “I-I know,” Namjoon said shakily, nodding slowly. “But I never wanted-”   “You know I would never hurt you,” Hoseok stroked Namjoon’s cheek. “I love you, Joon.”   “You-” Namjoon looked into Hoseok’s eyes, his own so wide they could burst. “You what?”   Hoseok looked just as surprised, until he smiled. It was shy, but warm.  He looked Namjoon in the eyes, laughed a small laugh, and bit his lip before repeating:   “I love you.”   Namjoon was still, too shocked to move. Then he slowly smiled back, wrapping his arms around Hoseok’s waist, and burying his face in Hoseok’s neck.  He laughed, more of a relieved kind of laugh, his whole body shaking from it.   “I love you , Hoseok,” he whispered into Hoseok’s skin, the words muffled but still there. They held each other for what seemed like hours, just laughing, shedding a tear or two.  Namjoon was the first to pull away, the first to kiss Hoseok with a soft passion, one that burned low but strong.   I slipped past them, heading to the forgotten private room.  I swung the door open and stepped inside, not regarding the man’s nakedness in the least. He stared at me incredulously, opened his mouth like he was about to tell me to get out.   “You should probably leave,” I suggested, tone low and warning.   “Excuse me?” he stood, covering himself and aiming a finger at me. “Who do you think you are?”   “I won’t say it again,” I raised an eyebrow.   “Don’t think I’m not telling Mr. Kim about this,” he gathered his things, watching me from the corner of his eye.   “Bite me,” I spat, following him into the main room after he made himself decent.   Jin was standing in the shadows by the bar, eyes trained on Jimin.  If you hadn’t been looking for him, you never would have seen him.  But the man was on the lookout, waiting to snitch, because he noticed Jin after a few minutes of searching the room.   “Mr. Kim!” he called, waving in Jin’s direction. Jin looked around, hearing the man’s voice, but not quite able to discern where it came from. “Mr-”   “I suggest you keep your mouth shut ,” I clapped a hand over the man’s mouth from behind, leading him by the shoulder to a cushy chair in front of the stage. “And enjoy the show.”   The man glared at me before I walked away, ultimately giving up and settling in to watch Jimin.  I made my way back to the bar, but not before I stopped next to Jin.  He didn’t glance at me as I moved in beside him, crossing my arms over my chest and following his gaze.   “Hoseok’s client was giving him a hard time,” I lied.   “Where is he now?” Jin asked, not tearing his eyes from Jimin.   “Over there,” I nodded toward the man, now sitting in a cushy chair. “Don’t rough him up too much.”   “We’ll see,” Jin finally glanced at me. His face was lifeless, even more so than usual.   The rest of the night, I couldn’t help but feel like something wasn’t right with Jin.  He didn’t move from his spot by the bar until the club was close to closing.  Jimin climbed off the stage after his last dance, and Jin retreated into his office like a ghost. He only came out once everyone else was long gone, hating himself for not being able to understand what he was feeling. Why was he drawn to Jimin? Why did seeing Jimin offer himself to the audience make Jin’s blood boil?  He still couldn’t figure out the answer.   Meanwhile, Jimin didn’t care. Or at least that’s what he told himself.  He told himself he was just having fun, but his subconscious had another idea.  He was acting out, desperately trying to catch Jin’s attention, to get him to notice.  Nothing’s wrong, he’d tell you.  I couldn’t care less, he’d say.  But he would be lying to himself.   ***** “I’m trying to convince him to go back to school,” Hoseok sighed, sitting at the bar.  It was becoming his new usual, not that I was complaining.   “Why did he drop out in the first place?” I asked, almost yelling over the music. Jimin insisted it had to be louder. Part of his new wild side, I guess.   “He said that all the assignments and studying got to be too much,” he was waving his hands around, almost taking out the guy sitting next to him. “That plus his job.”   “He’s always worked at the gas station?” I slid a drink to a customer down the bar.   Hoseok opened his mouth to reply, but Jungkook approached the bar before he could.  His eyes didn’t meet mine, he barely even looked in my direction.   “I need a gin and tonic,” he said more to bar than to me.   “Coming up,” I prepared the drink while Hoseok eyed Jungkook. Jungkook turned to him, noticed his stare, and immediately turned around again, staring at his shoes. “Here, Jungkook.”   He took the drink and bowed his head, not saying a word or looking up before he disappeared into the crowd again.  Hoseok stared after him, brows furrowed, until he couldn’t see him anymore.     “What’s up with him ?” he asked, turning back to me.   “Dunno,” I lied, shrugging my shoulders.  Jungkook had been avoiding me, embarrassed from the incident in the restroom.  I had already decided that I didn’t care, Jungkook was free to do whatever he pleased. I had also decided that was a damn lie.   “Weird,” Hoseok whispered. “Maybe Taehyung did something.”   “Maybe,” I whispered under my breath. Hoseok turned around on his barstool, seemingly deciding that Jimin’s performance was more entertaining than the answers I wasn’t giving him.  I couldn’t blame him.   Jimin had a crazed look in his eyes, like he was a wild animal hunting down his prey.  He ran a hand through his pink hair and hopped down from the stage.  He approached several customers, trailing fingers along their chests, or running a hand through their hair.  He had them all drooling, all anticipating who he’d come to next.   “What the hell is he doing?” Hoseok whisper-yelled when Jimin finally picked his victim, climbing into his lap and swinging his hips.   “He’s going through this kind of rebellious phase,” I whispered back, leaning against the bar and watching with Hoseok.   “What’s he gonna do if Jin catches him?” Hoseok asked.   “I don’t wanna know.” But we were all about to find out.   Jimin bit his lip, pulling the man’s head back by his hair and exposing his throat.  Jimin got close, his breath teasing the man’s skin, teeth threatening to bite.  He pushed himself off, turning around and pushing back onto the man’s lap.     What no one noticed was the sound of Jin’s office door opening, his presence slipping into the main room.  He was originally headed out into the street, but stopped in his tracks when he noticed Jimin.  He stood watching him from the sidelines, in the shadows.   Jin watched as the man put his hands on Jimin’s body, Jin’s own fists clenching at his sides.  He watched as Jimin rolled his hips against the man, seeming to enjoy the attention way too much.  Jin watched the man grip Jimin’s hips, smooth his hands down Jimin’s back, practically fucking him in the chair.   Jin watched until he couldn’t watch anymore.   “Get up,” he barked at Jimin, marching over to the two of them. Jimin smirked, started to laugh when Jin cut him off, “I said get up!”   Jimin’s eyes went wide as he scrambled off the man’s lap.  Jin rounded the chair, facing the man. He bent down low, an inch away from the man’s face and a hand clutching the front of his shirt.   “You think you can put your hands on my dancer?” Jin snarled. He pulled the man up by the grip he had on his shirt.  He reared back, aiming a powerful punch to the man’s jaw.  There was a loud crack, one that could be heard clearly if the music wasn’t blaring, and blood dripped from the man’s mouth.   “I-” the man tried to reason with Jin, but Jin just gripped him harder, dragging him to the club’s entrance. He pulled the door open, so hard that it put a slight dent in the wall when it swung back, and he threw the man to the ground outside.   “The next time I see you, I won’t be so hesitant to kill you,” Jin spat, slamming the door closed and leaning against it for a few seconds.  He turned, gestured for Jimin to follow him to his office. Jimin smirked and trailed after him, but he didn’t wait until they were behind closed doors to start his fun.   “Oh, you’re so strong,” Jimin said, clutching onto Jin’s arm. Jin shot a glare down at him, but Jimin just looked up with puppy eyes. Jin pulled his arm out of Jimin’s grip, but Jimin moved in front of him, trailing a finger across Jin’s chest.   “I love it when daddy defends me,” Jimin smirked again, biting his lip. Jin had enough, grabbing Jimin by the shoulders and slamming him against the closest wall.   “This isn’t funny, Jimin,” he growled, grip tight.   “I guess not,” Jimin shrugged, hiding a laugh behind his smirk. Jin pushed him back one last time before he huffed and walked away without another word.  He didn’t go to his office, instead walking straight out the front door.   The crowd cleared out earlier than usual that night, afraid of what would happen if they stayed longer. Jimin was staring at his reflection in the mirror, not quite satisfied with what he saw.  Taehyung was storming into the dressing room, and I was trailing behind him, trying to keep him from making tensions any higher.   “Taehyung-”   “What the hell was that?” he yelled at Jimin, effectively cutting me off.   “Just forget it” Jimin didn’t so much as glance at Taehyung.   “Forget it?” Taehyung asked incredulously. “Do you know what kind of scene-”   “It’s my problem, Taehyung!” Jimin yelled, standing from his seat at the vanity. “Can’t you just let me deal with it?”   Taehyung’s jaw clenched, hands curling into fists at his sides, but he turned to leave the room.  Jungkook, who had just walked in, looked confused to see Taehyung heated like that.  He looked even more confused when Taehyung wrapped an arm around his shoulders, telling him that they were going home, now .   Jimin was still standing, staring after Taehyung as he left.  When just he and I were left in the room, Jimin physically deflated, all his energy slipping from his body.  He sank down into his chair again, looking at me through the mirror.   “I don’t get it,” he muttered. “Why would he react that way?”   “Maybe Taehyung-”   “Not Taehyung,” Jimin sighed. “ Jin. ”   “Why do you think?” I asked, like the answer was obvious. And it kind of was.   “I don’t know!” Jimin yelled into his hands. No matter how hard Jimin tried, he could never understand how Jin’s mind worked. He could never understand what Jin was going through, maybe even struggling more than Jimin was.     “No one knows, Jimin,” I sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder.   “I just don’t get it,” Jimin whispered, so light you almost couldn’t hear him. Chapter End Notes -CK TOMORROW COMEBACK TOMORROW COMEBACK TOMORROW! AH! also thank you guys, I love you <3 ***** lost ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "Lost my way within a complicated world without an exit." Chapter Notes and so the plot thickens have some drama See the end of the chapter for more notes “You alright?” Hoseok asked, frowning at me when I finally opened the apartment door.   “Am I cursed?” I asked back, locking the door and falling into step beside Hoseok.   “What do you mean?” he was still thoroughly confused, not letting up his questioning stare.   “I keep walking in on everyone having sex,” I sighed, shivering at the thought.     “You saw someone having sex?” Hoseok asked, ready to gossip. “Wait, more than once?”   “It’s been happening a lot lately,” I murmured, refusing to look at Hoseok.   “Well, who was it?” he nudged me in the side, mischievous smile spreading on his face.   “Hoseok-”   “Come on,” he stepped in front of me, keeping me from taking another step forward, and pulled out his best puppy dog pout. “Just tell me what happened.”   ===============================================================================   “Hey, Yoongi,” Namjoon stepped through the club’s entrance and made his way over to me. “Is Hoseok almost ready?”   “I’ll get him,” I left Namjoon and set off for the dressing room.  Taehyung and Jungkook were changing out of their uniforms, and Jimin had already gone home for the night.  “Where’s Hoseok?”   Just then, the door to the private room opened, and Hoseok’s face appeared on the other side.  He shoved his wallet and phone into his pockets, walking into the room and smiling when he finally noticed me standing there.   “Is Namjoon here?” he asked, smile never fading. I nodded, walking back into the main room with him.  He gave Namjoon a quick peck on the lips and entwined their fingers together.   “You ready to go?” Namjoon asked us both, as we were all headed back to the apartments that night. I nodded, following after the other two as they walked through the club’s entrance. We had gotten about a block away from the club before I noticed that my pockets felt suspiciously light.   “Shit,” I whispered, stopping to feel each of my pockets.   “What is it?” Hoseok had stopped walking too, obviously concerned.   “I think I left my phone back at the club,” I sighed.   “We can go back and get it,” Hoseok suggested.   “I’ll get it,” I waved Hoseok off. “You two go on ahead.”   So they went on their way, albeit Hoseok was a little reluctant.  It seemed like he was always having to help me out, it had become second nature to him.  But I backtracked our path from the club alone, thanking every god that I hadn’t gotten all the way home before I noticed my phone was missing. Though maybe I should have just left it there.   The door to the club was still unlocked when I got back, which meant Taehyung and Jungkook hadn’t left yet.  I pushed the door open, flipped on the switch for the main room’s lights, and scanned the area for my phone.  It was laying on the bar, right where I had left it.  When I approached the bar to take it, it started vibrating. I jumped out of my skin, but immediately relaxed when I noticed Hoseok’s face lighting up the screen.   “Yes?” I answered the call, smiling to myself.   “Just thought a call might help you find it,” he sounded proud of himself.   “What would I do without you?” I rolled my eyes, though he couldn’t see.   “Probably die, to be honest,” he answered.   “Bye, Hoseok,” I laughed, hanging up before he could get another word in.  I pocketed the phone and turned to leave the club once again, but a small moan followed by a shh made me stop dead.   Though every single cell in my body told me to get out of there while I could, I couldn’t help but want to investigate. At that point, it really seemed like a disease.  So I kept my footsteps light as I approached the dressing room, because there was no wayit was a bad idea.  The closer I got, the easier it became to pick up the sound of small whimpers.   My stomach turned.  I knew exactly who was in that room, but I still couldn’t stop myself from looking. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and peeked around the corner.  Taehyung was sitting in one of the room’s chairs, leaning fully against the back of the chair.  But Jungkook -- ohJungkook -- was in Taehyung’s lap, face buried in Taehyung’s neck and rolling his hips ever so slowly.   I pulled away, refusing to watch any more.  My stomach felt hollow, and all I could do was run from that room, from the club. All I could do was lock my apartment door and not come out until Hoseok’s voice rang through it the next day.   But I didn’t know the whole story.  Not that knowing it would make it any better, but oh well.  You win some, you lose some.   Taehyung was pulling his t-shirt over his head when he heard the door to the club open and close, our three voices disappearing with it.  He didn’t pay too much mind, just made a mental note to lock up when he and Jungkook left for the night.     But Jungkook was paying attention, waiting for the moment when they were alone.  He wrapped his arms around Taehyung from behind, pulling himself close against Taehyung’s body.     “Jungkook, wha-”   “Mm, hyung feels so nice,” he murmured, breath warm against Taehyung’s skin.  Taehyung unlinked Jungkook’s hands so he was able to turn around and face him. Jungkook just smiled, relocated his hands to smooth over the skin under Taehyung’s t-shirt.   “What are you doing?” Taehyung looked into Jungkook’s pleading doe-eyes, not too keen on fighting the warmth of Jungkook’s touch.   “I wanna feel you, hyung,” Jungkook whispered, reaching up to plant a small kiss on Taehyung’s lips. “Allof you.”   “Jungkook-”   “Is that so bad?” Jungkook pouted, bottom lip looking perfect enough to bite.   “No, baby,” Taehyung ran a hand through Jungkook’s raven hair. “It’s not bad.”   Jungkook leaned in to kiss Taehyung again, and he obliged, taking control.  He kissed Jungkook with a kind of soft heat, the want evident but not animal. Jungkook slipped his hand farther up Taehyung’s torso, smoothing over his chest and slipping his t-shirt back over his head.  The skin to skin contact made Jungkook weak, for he hadn’t bothered to throw on a shirt beforehand.   Jungkook pushed his body against Taehyung’s, nudging him in the direction of the closest chair.  Taehyung got the hint and took a seat, breaking the kiss.  Jungkook dropped to his knees, beginning to undo Taehyung’s zipper before he even began to speak.   “Jungkook, we don’t have anything,” Taehyung told him, stroking through Jungkook’s hair again.   “Hoseok-hyung, does,” Jungkook smiled up at Taehyung as he stripped him of his jeans.  He stood, shedding his own and strutting into the private room.  He returned with a bottle of lube and a smirk.   “Come here,” Taehyung cooed, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.  Jungkook climbed into his lap, straddling him, and wiggled his hips.  Jungkook started planting kisses down Taehyung’s neck as Taehyung got some lube on his fingers, warming it before easing the first finger into Jungkook.     But even as Jungkook whimpered at the feeling, Taehyung couldn’t help but think the slide was toosmooth.   “Jungkook,” Jungkook looked at Taehyung with mischievous eyes. “Did you stretch yourself already?”   “I couldn’t help it,” Jungkook pouted, brushing his nose against Taehyung’s. “Please hurry.”   “I will, baby,” and Taehyung slipped in another finger, swallowing Jungkook’s small whimpers as he worked Jungkook open. Way sooner than he anticipated, Taehyung deemed Jungkook ready, smoothing more lube on his cock before letting Jungkook sink down.   “Hyung,” Jungkook moaned, brows furrowed and bottom lip caught between his teeth.   “How do you feel, baby?” Taehyung whispered in his ear.  Jungkook leaned in close, his breath warm against the shell of Taehyung’s ear.   “Full,” he whispered back. Taehyung let out a low growl, placing his hands on Jungkook’s hips and moving him slowly.  Jungkook buried his face in Taehyung’s neck again, muffling his soft moans.   Jungkook was breathing heavy, hands hot against Taehyung’s bare chest. Taehyung tilted his hips slightly, and Jungkook let out a loud moan.   “Shh,” Taehyung kissed Jungkook’s temple, hands still guiding Jungkook’s hips slowly. They kept that slow pace for a while, but Jungkook grew impatient, wiggling his hips and nipping at Taehyung’s skin.   “Faster, hyung,” he whined, and Taehyung sank lower into the chair, gripping Jungkook’s hips harder. He lifted Jungkook just a little, pulling him back down as he thrusted up.  Jungkook almost screamed at the power, the jolt it sent through his body.  Taehyung continued, going faster and faster until Jungkook’s loud moans were reverberating against the walls, filling the whole club.   “You like that, baby?” Taehyung growled.   “Y-yes, hyung,” Jungkook nodded slowly, trying desperately to catch his breath.  His arms were outstretched, knuckles turning white from his grip on the arms of the chair.  He threw his head back, throat exposed, back arching.  Taehyung thought he was the most beautiful thing alive.   Jungkook’s small body started shaking, his moans becoming more and more whiny, and his chest heaving in short, shallow breaths.   “You’re close,” Taehyung murmured. “Cum, baby.”   So he did, painting Taehyung’s chest and stomach a pearly white.  Taehyung followed shortly after, savoring the few whines of overstimulation from Jungkook while they lasted.  He pulled Jungkook close to his chest, not thinking about the sticky feeling, and slipped out from him.  His cum dripped to the floor, but he just held Jungkook close, kissing his sweaty forehead.     ===============================================================================   “Where’s Jimin?” Hoseok asked, emerging into the main room from the dressing room.     “He already left,” Taehyung answered, sitting in one of the cushy chairs by the stage.   “Why has he been leaving early?” Hoseok thought out loud, turning to me. “You don’t think he’s gotten into that stuff again, do you?”   “What, drugs?” I furrowed my brows. “No way, not after what already happened to him.”   “I’m just worried,” Hoseok sighed, sitting on the arm of a cushy chair.   “You’reworried about Jimin?” Taehyung asked incredulously.   “And you’re not?” Hoseok shot back.   “I couldn’t care less what happens to him,” Taehyung muttered.   Hoseok and Taehyung continued their mindless arguing, but Jungkook took a seat on the barstool next to mine. He looked at his hands in his lap for a minute before sparing a glance at me.   “Can we talk, hyung?” he asked, voice small.   “Sure,” I shrugged, and he took my hand in his, sliding off his barstool.  He pulled me into the dressing room, away from the other two’s bickering. “What is it?”   “I just-” he looked at me shyly, his voice wavering. “Are you mad at me?”   “Of course not,” I softened my voice.   “Really?” he asked with wide eyes, unsure. “Even after you saw me with Taehyung in the bathroom?”   “Jungkook, I could never be mad at you,” I tousled his hair, smiling at his sigh of relief. It wasn’t a lie, I really couldn’t be mad at him. Not with those big innocent eyes, that pitiful pout or bunny smile.  One look at him dissolved any ounce of anger I could’ve had.   “I felt so bad,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around my middle and pulling himself against me.   “I know, Kookie-”   “Excuse me, we’re closed,” Hoseok’s voice rang through the club from the main room.  I stepped into the main room to see what was going on, Jungkook reappearing at my side.   “I know,” an unfamiliar man told Hoseok. “I’m here to see Jimin.”   “Who are you?” Hoseok asked, voice rising.   “I’m Jihoon,” the man stepped closer to Hoseok, smirk curling on his lips.   Why did that name sound familiar?   “Jimin’s boyfriend,” he continued.   “I don’t think so,” Taehyung piped up.   “Oh?” Jihoon raised an eyebrow.   “I think it’s time to go,” Hoseok said, stepping forward to lead Jihoon out.   “You can’t keep me from him,” Jihoon grabbed Hoseok’s wrist, pulling him close. Jungkook instinctively ran toward Hoseok, but Hoseok put a hand up to stop him.   “Don’t, Jungkook,” he called.  He was breathing heavy, not daring to break free from Jihoon’s grip, not daring to move at all. I cautiously moved in by Jungkook’s side, if only to keep him from making things worse. But that’s when I saw the glint of the knife, the tip pressing into Hoseok’s chest.   “Jimin isn’t here,” Hoseok said calmly, slowly. He grimaced when Jihoon dug the tip of the knife deeper into Hoseok’s skin, a drop of red saturating his shirt.   “I don’t think you’re in the position to lie to me,” Jihoon smiled.  Jungkook tried to lunge forward, but I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him back against my chest.   “Jungkook, don’t ,” I whispered. But Jungkook’s eyes weren’t looking at Hoseok or Jihoon, he was staring almost throughthem.  I followed his gaze to find Taehyung slowly slipping behind the man, silently grabbing a stool from the bar.   “Hurt me all you want,” Hoseok taunted, trying to keep Jihoon distracted. “But you’ll never find him.”   Before Jihoon could cut any deeper into Hoseok’s skin, Taehyung swung the stool into Jihoon’s side, knocking him to the ground. The knife had fallen a few feet away, but Jihoon was too stunned to get to it before Taehyung.   “If you leave right now, we’ll pretend this never happened,” Taehyung tried to reason, but Jihoon stood and approached Taehyung, clutching his side.   “But I don’t want to leave,” Jihoon scowled, reaching out to grab at Taehyung’s throat. “Not unless Jimin leaves with me.”   Jungkook was struggling against my hold, trying to get to Taehyung before Jihoon choked him to death. Taehyung tried to pull his hands away, tried to be as calm as he could about this whole thing, but his vision was going fuzzy.  He convinced himself that he had no other choice as he drove the knife into Jihoon’s side.   Taehyung dropped to the floor in a heap, grasping at his throat and breathing like he had never tasted air before. Jihoon stumbled back, pulling the knife out of his skin and dropping to his knees. The knife clattered to the floor and blood poured from Jihoon’s wound.   “Oh my god,” Jungkook muttered into my chest, having turned away the second the knife pierced Jonghyun's skin.  He was shaking, gripping my shirt so hard he could have ripped the fabric. I could feel his tears soaking through to my skin.   Jihoon opened his mouth to say something, but blood dripped from his lips instead of words. He coughed several times, spraying blood everywhere, before he collapsed on the floor.   “Is he-”   “Yeah,” Taehyung cut off Hoseok’s question, crawling over to feel Jihoon’s pulse. “He’s dead.”   Jungkook shuddered, a fresh flood of tears seeping through my shirt.   “God,” Hoseok clapped a hand over his mouth, huddled on the floor by the bar, his chest still dripping blood. “What the hell are we going to do now?”   “Call Jin,” Taehyung called out.   “I got it,” I said, pulling out my phone and dialing Jin’s number, one arm still holding Jungkook tight.   “This better be important, Min,” Jin’s voice sounded tired.   “It is,” I sighed. “Someone attacked us at the club-” “Is there a mess?” he asked.   “Yes,” I really hoped Jungkook couldn’t hear.   “I’ll have it taken care of,” and Jin hung up without another word.   “Jin said he’d deal with it,” I called to Taehyung. “You take Jungkook home, I’ll wait for him here.”   “No,” Jungkook whimpered, gripping tighter into my shirt.   “Why not?” I whispered down at him.  He looked at me with red, puffy eyes.   “I can’t- go-,” he whispered in my ear. “H-he killed-”   “It’s alright, Jungkook,” I ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t have to.”   “Can I stay with you?” he muttered, face buried in my chest again. “Please?”   “I-” he caught me off guard. “Yeah, okay.”   ===============================================================================   “Hoseok, he just… clungto me,” I explained, completely taken aback.  Hoseok was standing in his kitchen with no shirt and a fresh bandage over the cut on his chest.   “You werethere,” Hoseok shrugged like the answer was obvious. Maybe it was.   “I know, but-” I huffed, leaning against Hoseok’s apartment door. “He had just spent the past week avoiding me.”   “That doesn’t matter now,” Hoseok looked deadly serious. “Now you just need to be here for him, Yoongi.”   “Yeah,” I sighed, opening the door and stepping into the hallway. “Goodnight, Hoseok.” Chapter End Notes not many chapters left.. thank you for sticking with me <3 ***** bts cypher 4 ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "But I can never be satisfied here." Chapter Notes whoops this one's up a little later than usual nonetheless, have fun! See the end of the chapter for more notes “God, why does everyone seem so dead?” Jimin asked the room, sighing and resting his chin in his hands -- though he winced and slowly pulled away. Hoseok looked up, turning to Taehyung, who then turned to Jungkook.  Jungkook caught Taehyung’s eye and immediately looked down at his lap.     “Long night, I guess,” I shrugged, not exactly lying.  Jimin opened his mouth to speak again, but the front door creaking open cut him off before he could begin.  Jin walked through the entrance, messing with the cuff on his dress shirt. He decided to forgo the suit jacket that day.   “Min, a word,” he looked up, raised an eyebrow in my direction, and continued on to his office.  I didn’t miss the way he glanced at Jimin, making eye- contact but cutting it off immediately.   “What is it?” I asked, shutting the door behind me as Jin took a seat on the desktop.  I knew exactly what this conversation would be about. Jin had no problems with necessary roughness, with secrets kept for the right reasons. But he would still try to collect as much information as he could.   “I didn’t ask Taehyung last night, thought it would be better to save the questions for later,” Jin folded his arms across his chest. “So what the hell happened, Min?”   “Just someone who picked a fight with the wrong people,” was all I said.   “Who was he?” Jin sighed, accepting the vague description. “Anyone I should be worried about?”   “Jihoon,” I figured that would explain enough for Jin, but he just furrowed his brows.   “Jihoon?” Jimin never told Jin about Jihoon, not wanting the old to interfere with the new.   “Uh- that’s what he said his name was,” I shrugged. “I dunno, just some whacko with a knife.”   “Good, can’t have you guys killing any more friends of friends,” he raised his eyebrow at me, obviously hinting at the screwdriver incident. “You can go, Min.”   I slipped from Jin’s office, joining the emotionless group in the main room.  Hoseok was sitting in a cushy chair, Jungkook sitting on the floor below him as Hoseok played with his hair.  Hoseok was taking a night to himself, claiming he wouldn’t make good money with an open wound in the middle of his chest.  Meanwhile Jungkook just wanted a distraction from it all, something to keep his mind off the blood and the tears.  Jimin was practicing for his routine that night, getting more frustrated than usual when he messed up a step.   “How do you feel?” I asked Taehyung as he approached the bar, rubbing his temples.   “I did what I had to,” he breathed. “But I feel like shit.”   “You look it, too,” I filled a glass with cold water and handed it to him.  He put his hands around it, but didn’t pick it up.   “I was numb at first, like all the adrenaline cancelled it out,” he said to the glass. “But now all I can think about is... I took someone’s life.”   “At least you have a conscience,” I lowered my voice. “Did you tell Jimin?”   “No,” Taehyung sighed. “I don’t want him to think about it.”   “What happened to ‘I couldn’t care less about Jimin’, huh?” I watched as Taehyung gripped the glass a little tighter before letting go, slowly looking up to meet my eye.   “I may not like Jimin,” he said, voice almost a growl. “But he’s family, and no onehurts my family.”   With that, Taehyung stood and left the main room to begin preparing for the coming night.  As he retreated, Hoseok patted Jungkook’s head and rose from his cushy chair. He sat down on the barstool Taehyung had occupied just moments before.   “How’s your battle scar?” I teased.   “Not too deep, but it’ll be a bitch trying to get that stain out of my shirt,” his smile didn’t meet his eyes.  He was obviously not his normal self despite the efforts at a facade.   “You okay?” I asked, seriously this time.   “Yeah, it’ll pass,” he sighed. “Just need to get my mind off it.”   “I’ll bring over some take-out tonight,” I suggested. “Throw back a couple beers.”   “That’s a great idea,” he almost sounded relieved, smiling dimly.   But Namjoon must have come up with an even better idea because I ended up taking both meals back to my own apartment -- and definitely noteating both myself.   ===============================================================================   “Fuck, that’s hot,” I hissed, setting the steaming take-out on the counter to grab a six pack from my fridge.  With the beer in one hand and food in the other, I pulled my apartment door closed with my foot and headed for Hoseok’s apartment.  I stood there for a few seconds trying to figure out the best way to knock with my hands full.  But that’s when I heard it.   Someone on the other side of the door was moaning, and not being subtle about it.  I stopped strategizing, blowing up on my bangs in defeat and trudging back to my own apartment.  What I couldn’t see -- didn’t wantto see -- was Namjoon doing his best to take Hoseok’s mind off things.   “You’re so stressed, Hobi,” Namjoon cooed, running his fingers through Hoseok’s orange hair. Hoseok just hummed, his eyes staying closed as he laid back against Namjoon’s chest. “Let me help you.”   Namjoon leaned down to place a kiss on Hoseok’s forehead, on his nose, on his lips.  He kissed Hoseok slow and sweet, not wanting to rush anything.  It seemed to pull Hoseok out of his daze, for he sat up straighter and kissed Namjoon back.  He trailed light fingers along Namjoon’s arms and sides, skin warm against skin as he slowly slid Namjoon’s shirt over his head.   Namjoon hummed against Hoseok’s lips before reluctantly pulling away.  Hoseok pouted at him as he stood from the couch, but Namjoon scooped Hoseok into his arms and carried him into his bedroom. He gently lowered Hoseok onto the bed and crawled over him, locking their lips together again. Namjoon stripped Hoseok of his shirt, kissing all over his chest and stomach.   “You’re so beautiful, Hobi,” Namjoon whispered against Hoseok’s skin.   “Namjoon-”   “Shh,” Namjoon cut him off, bringing his lips back to Hoseok’s own. “You are.”   Hoseok gave in to Namjoon’s praise, closing his eyes and melting under his kiss.  He let the heat from Namjoon’s hands sink into his skin, burning in the best way.  He was too lost in the attention, the softness that he so desperately needed, to notice Namjoon reaching for a bottle of lube.  Hoseok felt the cold bottle being nudged into his hand and Namjoon’s fingers working his jeans off his hips.   Namjoon whimpered into Hoseok’s mouth, rolling his hips down onto Hoseok’s as he was being worked open.  Hoseok moved his fingers slowly, his other hand trailing down the curve of Namjoon’s spine. When he thought Namjoon was finally ready, Hoseok pecked his lips, his nose, and placed both hands on Namjoon’s hips.   “Ready, Joonie?” he asked, thumbs rubbing circles into Namjoon’s skin.   “Of course, baby,” Namjoon smiled down at Hoseok before he sank down onto his length slowly.  His eyebrows furrowed and a little gasp escaped his lips.  Hoseok swore that Namjoon had to have been the most beautiful thing to grace the earth.   Hoseok ran his hands up and down Namjoon’s thighs while Namjoon own hands gripped firmly on Hoseok’s shoulders.  He rolled his hips slowly, moans growing steadily louder and head tilting back in pleasure.  When Namjoon’s legs starting shaking from the exertion, Hoseok gripped his hips harder and thrusted up into him. Hoseok tried his best to hold back his moans, just wanting to hear Namjoon’s as they filled the room.   “H-Hobi…” Namjoon whined. “I’m gonna-”   And Namjoon came in ribbons on Hoseok’s stomach, his chest rising and falling rapidly.  Hoseok noticed as Namjoon scrunched his nose at the sensitivity, trying to find his own high soon.  Namjoon’s moans grew more whiny, his body collapsing onto Hoseok’s own. Hoseok wrapped his arms around Namjoon, holding him close and kissing his temple as felt the band in his stomach about to snap.   “Almost there, baby,” Hoseok whispered into Namjoon’s ear, breath becoming labored. “You’re okay.”   He quickly lifted Namjoon’s hips as he felt his high approaching.  Hoseok’s released coated the back of Namjoon’s thighs and dripped onto his own pelvis.  Namjoon kissed him once, twice, three times before he climbed off the bed.  He returned with a warm washcloth, wiping Hoseok’s skin clean of the stickiness.   “I love you so much, Joonie,” Hoseok smiled up at Namjoon, grabbing him by the wrist before he retreated to the bathroom again.   “Hobi,” Namjoon leaned down to kiss Hoseok’s forehead. “I love you, too.”   Namjoon watched Hoseok fall asleep on his chest.  He carded his fingers through his orange hair, noticing how his nose twitched every now and then.  He smiled, thanking every god that Hoseok could be his.  But then he thought about how much Hoseok has to deal with, how his smile seems to never fade despite all the bullshit he goes through.   Namjoon had always known Hoseok was stronger than him.  He admired him every single day for it.  But in that moment, Namjoon could almost feel his heart breaking at the thought.  Hoseok shouldn’t have to be that strong.  He shouldn’t have to put on a brave face when his life is threatened. He shouldn’t have that damn bandage on his chest, the wound below slowly healing everyday.   Looking sadly at the strands of orange hair splayed across his skin, the way Hoseok’s cheek squished slightly against his chest, Namjoon placed a soft kiss to Hoseok’s forehead before drifting off to sleep himself.   ===============================================================================   “I think that’s the last of them,” Jungkook said as he placed a few empty glasses on the bar.   “Thanks, Kookie,” I grabbed a glass and started scrubbing it clean. Jungkook sat on the closest barstool and sighed at the floor. “Everything okay?”   “Well, no,” he looked up, his brows furrowed a little. “But I think I’m just gonna have to get used to it.”   “Used to what?” I asked, setting a now clean glass back on its shelf.   “Everything that goes on around here,” he sighed, ran a hand through his raven black hair. “I knew working here wouldn’t be easy, but…”   “You didn’t expect this,” I finished for him, and he nodded. Jungkook was only seventeen, way too young to have seen the things he had.  He may not have looked it, but Jungkook was so strong. He coped in his own way, distancing himself just long enough to shove everything he felt to the back of his mind.  Even though he felt incredible pain, he refused to let it control him.   “Ready to go?” Taehyung had come to stand beside Jungkook, resting a hand on his shoulder as he spoke.   “Yeah, whenever you are,” Jungkook replied plainly, seemingly already over last night’s events. Or so he made himself believe.   “Let me grab my jacket, and we can leave,” Taehyung left Jungkook’s side to walk back into the dressing room.  He passed Jimin on the way, glancing at him briefly before stopping in his tracks.   “What happened to you?” Taehyung asked him, hand closed around Jimin’s wrist.   “Why do you care?” Jimin snarled, pulling himself free from Taehyung’s grip.  He looked at Taehyung like he was mud on his shoe and turned away.  Hoseok perked up from his seat in a cushy chair at the sound of Jimin’s harsh voice. Taehyung stood frozen, just watching as Jimin walked over to the bar.     “Jimin-” Hoseok rose from his chair, running to cut off Jimin’s path. Jimin sighed and rolled his eyes.   “Hyung, it’s nothing,” Jimin walked around his roadblock, coming closer to bar and into my view.  That’s when I noticed several bruises colored Jimin’s jaw and cheekbone.   “Where’d those come from?” I asked.   “Where do you think?” he snapped back.   “Did you have them covered up earlier?” Hoseok asked, brow still furrowed.   “I’m getting pretty good at that, huh?” Jimin’s tone and smirk were nothing but sarcastic. “Couldn’t have Jin seeing it, could I?”   “Couldn’t have me seeing what?” Jin’s voice cut through the room, no one having noticed when his office door opened and he stepped into the room. No one answered him.  He scanned the room, watching everyone as they looked pointedly away from him.  His footsteps were light, eery, as he approached Jimin.   “Jimin?”   Jimin, who had been staring at the floor, slowly looked up at Jin. His eyes weren’t filled with fear, no. It was more like spite, pure hatred.  Jimin watched as Jin reached out to run a hand along his jaw.  He shivered when skin touched skin.   “What’s this?” Jin asked, not sounding the least bit concerned.  But in reality, his heart lurched and blood boiled.  His fingers itched to avenge Jimin, to utterly destroy whoever did that to him.   “Am I damaged goods now?” Jimin spat, eyes drilling holes into Jin’s own. “Is my face not pretty enough for you?”   If you watched closely, you could see Jin’s eyes widen by a fraction, his body stiffen ever so slightly in surprise.  But he snapped out of it just as quickly as it had come.   “Who did this to you?” Jin was growing impatient, his voice hardly more than a growl. He had to stop himself from putting pressure on Jimin’s bruises out of frustration.  He didn’t want to cause Jimin any more pain.   “It’s not like you care,” Jimin muttered, words barely audible.  But Jin caught them, pulling his hand away from Jimin as if he had been burned. Jin could feel his fury rising through him, threatening to bubble up and out from his throat. “It’s not like you love me.”   But Jin couldn’t keep it in anymore.  He couldn’t fight it.   “God, Jimin!” Jin’s voice tore through the room, the whole building. “You honestly think I don’t love you?”   “You-?” Jimin couldn’t find any words, just stared back into Jin’s furious face. “You what…?”   Jimin’s eyes lost their fire, his resolve melting away as he took in Jin’s words.  Jin was staring at Jimin incredulously, as if he couldn’t understand how Jimin didn’t see it earlier. Jin shook his head and turned away from him, ignoring the way Jimin reached out for him.  Jin opened the door to the club but stopped in the threshold.  He took a deep breath, and though no one saw it, he blinked away tears and steeled himself.  Jin looked over his shoulder, eyes meeting Jimin’s misty ones for a few painful seconds. He swallowed hard as he watched the first tear fall down Jimin’s face before he turned back to the street outside and disappeared into the night.   Jimin had to ask himself if he was still alive. Chapter End Notes only four more chapters left :( love you guys <3 ***** am i wrong ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "I think this whole world is crazy. It feels like the end." Chapter Notes WOW I uploaded this so late today anyway some stuff goes down in this chapter so read carefully warnings: -implied rape -death See the end of the chapter for more notes “What is he doing ?” I whispered to myself, locking the apartment behind me and turning down the hall.  Hoseok would normally have been knocking on my door by then -- maybe even yelling that we were late -- but there was no sign of him.     “Hoseok?” I knocked on his door, listening to faint shuffling on the other side. “You okay?”   “Yeah, one sec!” Hoseok called back.  Footsteps quickened and keys jingled before Hoseok opened the door, shooting me a smile as he pulled it closed. “Sorry, lost track of time.”   “Yeah, right,” I smirked, nudging Hoseok in the side. “How’s Namjoon?”   “Shut up,” he blushed and shoved me back. The walk to the club that day was easy, carefree.  It was almost as if everything from last week never happened, like everything was normal again.  Inside, Jungkook was searching for the necktie he swears he left here somewhere , Taehyung was straightening the cushy chairs, and Jimin was circling his pole, telling Taehyung his chairs were crooked.   Everything was normal.   Except for the bloodstain that refused to come out of the carpet, the same stain that Taehyung had just covered up with a chair.  The stain that Jimin cocked his head sideways at but didn’t ask about.     Except for the light scar Hoseok’s wound left on his chest, one you wouldn’t notice unless you knew what to look for.  Except for the faint smell of Jungkook that still lingered in my bed, his shaky voice asking me to lay with him flooding my memory every time I close my eyes.   Nothing was normal, but we sure did a good job of pretending.   “You missed one,” Jimin called from the stage.   “No, I didn’t,” Taehyung replied, putting an end table back in place.   “Yeah, you did,” Jimin pointed to a random chair. “That one.”   “Bite me, Jimin,” Taehyung walked right past the chair Jimin pointed at, on his way to change into his uniform.   “I’d rather not,” Jimin scoffed, grabbing the pole and swinging a leg around. “There are better things my mouth could be doing.”   “Hyung!” Jungkook shouted, shocked that Jimin would say such a crude thing. Taehyung just rolled his eyes and continued on his way. Hoseok followed Taehyung’s path to the dressing room, pausing only to pat Jungkook’s head.   “Hyung, have you seen my tie?” he asked Hoseok, teeth worrying his bottom lip.   “It might be in the back,” Hoseok supplied, but Jungkook just raised a hand to his forehead.   “I already looked there,” he sighed.   “I dunno then,” Hoseok patted his fluffy head again. “Just go without it tonight.”   Jungkook looked as if he wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but he accepted it anyway.  He gave up looking for his tie and took a seat at the bar as usual.   “What’s up, Kookie?” I asked him, resting my elbows on the bar.   “Oh, you know,” was all he said, head tilting to the side just a little.   “Uh, care to elaborate?” I tilted my head to match his.   “I’m alright,” he shrugged. “Just a little nervous.”   “Nervous for what?”   “Well, nothing,” he turned his head and scanned the main room. “Just- being here makes me nervous.”   “Do you think something’s gonna happen?” I stood up straight, pulling out a glass and filling it with water.   “Kinda,” he bit his lip. “It’s like the air is different.”   “I know what you mean,” I handed the glass to him, and he took a sip. “I feel it, too.”   The entire atmosphere surrounding the club had changed, I was sure of that.  Walking through the entrance made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, made my fingers twitch with anxiety.  I had seen death before, but this feeling was new.  It wasn’t guilt, or trauma.  It wasn’t even fear that it would happen again. It was more like a sense of impending doom.   Jimin would have said I was crazy, and Hoseok would have said I needed to get my head on straight.  But Jungkook knew the feeling, and it scared him just as much as it scared me.   Even so, everyone went about their night as if everything was okay.  Taehyung was back to working the crowd and their pockets, and Jungkook was back to silently disapproving of him. Hoseok was wasting away most of the night making small talk at the bar -- whispering bits of gossip and comments on Jimin’s performance -- and Jimin was back to captivating the crowd with just a swing of his hips.   “Is it just me,” Hoseok whispered, “or does Jimin look happy ?”   “No, it’s not just you,” I whispered back. Jimin’s smile, although sultry, never left his face.  That is, until after the show was over.   “I dunno,” Jimin said, beaming -- and sweating a lot . “I just feel good-”   “Jimin?” Jin’s voice rang out through the room. “Could you stay a little later tonight? I need to have a word with you.”   “Uh- sure,” and Jimin’s face instantly fell as self-doubt crept in. Did he not perform well that night?  Was he losing his touch? Oh god , did Jin want to fire him?   After each of us filed out the door and silence filled the club, Jimin took to the pole.  He ran through his routine again and again, but he couldn’t figure out what the hell he was doing wrong.  Jimin’s fists clenched tighter and his hair stood in more directions the more frustrated he got with himself.   When Jin finally stepped into the room, he found Jimin sitting with his back against the pole and arms folded over his eyes. Was Jimin crying? Jin didn’t want him to cry.   “Hey,” Jin called, hands in his pockets as he approached the stage.   “Oh- sorry,” Jimin stood all of a sudden, running a hand through his hair one more time to smooth it down. “What’s this about?”   “Um, I just-” Jin cleared his throat, not sure why this was so hard for him to do. “I just wanted to see you.”   Jimin didn’t move, didn’t even breath for what felt like a whole hour.  Jin felt like he made a mistake, that he should just take back what he said and go home.  But finally Jimin said:   “You- what?” with scrunched eyebrows.   “I wanted to see you,” Jin said more confidently that time, stepping closer to the edge of the stage.   “Well, here I am,” Jimin crouched down in front of Jin, shrugging his shoulders a little.   “Here you are,” Jin whispered to himself. The silence that followed threatened to swallow them whole.   “Did you mean it?” Jimin spoke suddenly, the question burning in the forefront of his head for the past week.   “I don’t say things I don’t mean, Jimin,” Jin replied, trying to keep his voice from sounding too business .   “Then say it again,” Jimin told the stage, not able to meet Jin’s eyes. Jin placed his hands on the stage, on either side of Jimin.   “I love you, Jimin,” Jin’s voice was low but strong. When Jimin looked up in disbelief, he found Jin’s eyes already on him, already searching for his own.  Jimin felt the tears stinging, but he refused to let them fall.  Crawling over to Jin, Jimin let him smooth a hand down his jaw, let him pull him into a the softest kiss to ever grace his lips.   Jimin sat on the edge of the stage, letting his eyes fall shut at Jin’s touch.  His thumbs ran across Jimin’s cheekbones, catching the tears that just barely escaped.  Jin’s lips trailed down Jimin’s neck, and his hands traveled down to push Jimin’s shirt up just enough to feel his warm skin. One hand found its way to Jimin’s lower back, pulling him closer to Jin’s chest as the other hand skirted up Jimin’s thigh.   Jimin wrapped his legs around Jin’s hips and his arms around his neck. Jin rolled his hips up into Jimin, making him gasp. Jin took that opportunity to flood Jimin’s mouth with his tongue, swallowing every whimper. Jimin started fumbling to undo their pants, and after a short raid of Hoseok’s private room, Jin had Jimin losing his mind.   “Right there,” Jimin mumbled against Jin’s neck. “ Please -”   “I’ve got you,” Jin whispered into Jimin’s ear, getting a better grip on his thighs. Jimin tightened his legs around Jin’s hips more, arms going limp and moans turning into whines. Jin’s pace was slower than usual, less animalistic. He didn’t want to just fuck Jimin, he wanted to love him just like he said.   Jimin slowly lifted his head and brought his forehead against Jin’s.  For a moment, everything felt lighter somehow when they looked at each other. Jimin leaned in to kiss him, and Jin pulled him even closer.   “Jin, I’m-” he whined. “I’m gonna-”   “Cum, baby,” Jin pecked Jimin’s lips, carded a hand through his cotton candy hair.  With an almost pitiful whimper into Jin’s neck, Jimin came in ribbons on their stomachs. Jin followed soon after, not wanting Jimin to suffer from too much sensitivity.   They stayed in each other’s arms for a long time, not daring to break the magic of the moment they were in.  Jimin ran his fingers through Jin’s sweaty blonde hair, not quite believing in real life.  Jin kept finding himself looking into Jimin’s eyes, never knowing before how beautiful they really were.   That night, Jin walked Jimin home.  The walk was mostly silent as Jin wasn’t quite a master of small talk, but Jimin loved it all the same. Once Jin saw the place Jimin had to call home, he didn’t want to let him go.  But he was already gone, disappearing through the front door.  Jin could already feel his newfound heart breaking.   ===============================================================================   If any one of us thought the past week was hard, we had no fucking clue what was about to come next.  The night that marked the beginning of the end had seemed like every other before it. The lights were dim, the music was blaring, and Hoseok had a client to take care of.     “It’s weird not seeing Hoseok-hyung at the bar,” Taehyung laughed, shaking his head.   “I know,” I handed him the drink he needed. “I was getting used-”   “Hey!” came Jungkook’s voice from the crowd.   “What’s that about?” I leaned into the bar to try to see into the crowd. Jungkook emerged with a scowl and a soaked vest.   “What happened?” Taehyung asked as he approached the bar.   “Some jerk spilled his drink all over me,” Jungkook spat, pulling at the wet fabric.   “There should be an extra in the dressing room,” Taehyung put a hand on his shoulder. “Go change into that one.”   Jungkook sighed and headed for the dressing room, cursing the guy who dumped his drink all over him.  He rummaged through some drawers until he found the extra vest Taehyung was talking about. He peeled the wet one from his body - - the intense smell of alcohol making his eyes burn -- and went to throw on the extra one. But then he heard it.   “No!” Hoseok’s screams tore through the private room, soundproof walls be damned. “Please, no!”   “Hyung!” Jungkook pounded his fists against the door. He knew Hoseok was in serious trouble, and it was up to him to get him out. “Hyung!!”   “Please-” and the door slammed open, making a hole in the wall that they would discover later. Hoseok was pinned against the wall, tears streaming down his face, and the man was not about to let up at Jungkook’s expense.   “Get off him!” Jungkook grabbed the man from behind, curving an arm around his neck. He squeezed the man’s neck as hard as he could, throwing him to the floor with all the force the adrenaline could muster. Jungkook dragged the man from the room, and all eyes turned to him.   “Get Jin!” Jungkook yelled at no one in particular, and Taehyung sprinted into Jin’s office.   “What the hell is going on?” Jin demanded, hovering over the man Jungkook had pinned to the floor.  Jungkook explained the situation as best as he could through the blind rage he felt. Jin’s fists clenched at his sides, knuckles turning white.   “What-”   “Get everyone out of here,” Jin barked at Taehyung, cutting him off. Taehyung was frozen in fear at what Jin was about to do. “I said get them out !”   Taehyung cut the music as fast as he could, ushering everyone out of the building. He threw glances back at the scene, terror washing over him.   “Yoongi!” Jin yelled. “Get my gun.”   Taehyung’s eyes grew even wider, if possible, and Jimin jumped from the stage.   “Jin, what’s-”   “Go check on Hoseok,” Jin told Jimin, whose jaw dropped at Hoseok’s name. “Just stay with him.”   Jimin tore through the back to get to Hoseok, and Jin relieved Jungkook of his hold on the man.  He landed a few punches to his jaw -- blood and bits of enamel flying -- and started dragging him toward the back door of the club. I stopped at the door by Jin’s side once I got his gun, the metal ice cold in my hands.   “What are you waiting for?” Jin asked me, never taking his eyes off the man on the ground. “Kill him.”   “I-” I looked at the gun in my hand, then back to Jungkook, who was watching Jin and I closely. Jin tore his eyes away from the man and followed my gaze toward Jungkook.   “I get it,” he muttered. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought you still had a soul.”   If I didn’t know any better, so would I.   Jin snatched the gun from my hand, cocked it, and pulled the trigger all in the blink of an eye. He tilted his head a little to the side, placed the gun back in my hand, and walked back inside.  I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the man, the blood seeping from his skull. Not until Jungkook came to stand by my side.   “He deserved it,” he muttered, voice low. I didn’t see fear, no tears welling in his eyes. I only saw a set jaw and the rawest form of anger.   “What the hell happened back there?” I asked, still confused about what had just happened.   “He-” Jungkook’s voice broke, fists clenching at his sides. “He raped him, hyung. He fucking- he deserved to die.”   “ What? ” my heart had dropped to my stomach.   After minutes that felt like days, Taehyung had coaxed a still-fuming Jungkook to call it a night and head home. Although grateful that Jimin had stayed, Jin thought it best to send him home, too. Jin was speaking to Hoseok in the dressing room, leaving me to wait anxiously just outside the door.   “Hoseok,” Jin’s voice was unusually gentle. “I am… so sorry.”   He was met with a sniffle, but no words.   “I never meant for this to happen to you,” he knelt down in front of Hoseok, taking his hands in his own. “I know how you feel-”   “You don’t,” Hoseok barked. “How could you-”   “Hoseok,” Jin spoke with authority, but not anger. “I know .”   Hoseok didn’t respond, just stared down at Jin instead.   “No one should ever have to go through this,” Jin continued, softer still. “But you’re strong.”   “Jin-”   “You are , Hoseok,” Jin stood, about to take his leave. “You can overcome this.”   And with that, Jin left the room.  He nodded at me when he passed, soon disappearing into his own office.  His muffled voice started speaking behind the door, probably to whoever he called to clean up the mess outside.   “Hey,” I knocked on the doorway leading into the dressing room, peeking my head in. “Can I come in?”   “Yeah,” Hoseok mumbled. He sat in front of his vanity, just staring at his own reflection. I came to stand next to him, taking in his disheveled orange hair, puffy eyes.   “Do you wanna stay for a bit?” I asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.   “No,” he almost growled. “I need to get out of here.”   “Let’s go home.”   Chapter End Notes yikes on bikes thank you for sticking around for this roller coaster it means a lot love you <3 ***** 21st century girl ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "Tell me that you're strong. Tell me that you're enough." Chapter Notes bear with me here, this one might get confusing otherwise, s'all good See the end of the chapter for more notes “It’s not the same without Hoseok-hyung,” Taehyung sighed, shoulders slumping as he took a seat at the bar.   “I know,” I sighed too.  Hoseok didn’t want to leave the apartment, and he definitely didn’t want to come back to Wings . Not this soon.     The walk to the club that day was the longest, without him next to me cracking jokes or making sly comments. I even missed the days we walked in comfortable silence. It killed me to leave him behind when all I wanted to do was stay with him. Maybe pay him back for all the times he looked out for me.   “Is Namjoon-hyung with him?” Taehyung asked, keeping an eye trained on a fidgety Jungkook.   “Yeah,” I looked down at the bar’s surface. “Namjoon couldn’t take the thought of leaving him alone right now.”   ===============================================================================   Namjoon was poking around in the kitchen when Hoseok and I got to the apartment the night before. He didn’t even look up when the door opened.   “Hey, Hobi,” he called, head in the refrigerator.  Hoseok tried to call back, but nothing came out.  His shaking hands gripped my shirt harder.   “Namjoon,” my voice came out lower, rougher than I expected.   “Yoongi?” Namjoon stepped out of the kitchen with scrunched eyebrows. His eyes raked over me first -- not understanding why I was there -- then Hoseok. “What’s going on?”   “Let’s sit down,” I led Hoseok over to the couch, and Namjoon sat down next to him, immediately grabbing Hoseok’s hand in his own.   “Did something happen?” Namjoon’s eyes were wide with worry, and you could almost see his heartbeat quicken.   “Joonie-” Hoseok started, squeezing Namjoon’s hand harder. “Joonie, I’m sorry...”   “Sorry for what?” he ran his thumb over the back of Hoseok’s hand.   “Yoongi, I can’t-” Hoseok suddenly turned to me, his eyes welling with tears.   “It’s okay,” I smoothed a hand down his back. “I’ll take care of it.”   “Okay,” Hoseok swallowed hard, then stood on wobbly legs. “I’m gonna- I need a shower.”   Namjoon’s wide eyes followed Hoseok’s retreating back until the closed bathroom door got in the way.     “What’s going on, Yoongi?” he asked, slowly tearing his gaze from the door.   “Namjoon,” I swallowed really hard, but the lump in my throat wouldn’t go away. “Hoseok was- his client, um-”   “Yoongi?” his bottom lip quivered as he put together the words I couldn’t get out. He shook his head at me, at the door Hoseok had disappeared behind. “No-”   “Namjoon, look at me,” he looked. “You have to be here for him, you have to be strong for him.”   “I just-” his gaze dropped to his lap. “I can’t believe-”   The sound of the water shutting off, the bathroom door opening, stole his attention.  When Hoseok slowly emerged from the bathroom, Namjoon almost sprinted to him.  He stopped in front of Hoseok, letting him get a good look at him before pulling him into a hug. Namjoon buried his face in Hoseok’s neck, and Hoseok tentatively circled his arms around Namjoon’s middle.   “I love you, Hobi,” Namjoon mumbled against Hoseok’s skin, sniffling a little. Hoseok visibly relaxed as the words sunk in, and he hugged Namjoon tighter.   “I love you too, Joonie.”   ===============================================================================   “What’s up with Jungkook?” I asked Taehyung. He turned to see Jungkook sitting in a cushy chair, staring into space with a permanent scowl and fingers tapping on the armrests.   “I dunno, hyung,” Taehyung sighed. “He’s been a little on edge, I guess.”   Taehyung shrugged and stood from his barstool.  He mentioned something about needing to get ready before he disappeared into the dressing room.   “What are you doing?” I called to Jungkook. He turned to me, face hard, before looking straight ahead again.   “I’m not doing anything,” he answered lowly before taking a deep breath. “Sorry, hyung. I’m just-”   “On edge?” I raised an eyebrow, though he couldn’t see.  He slumped in his chair, leaning his head back and sighing.   “You could say that-”   “Where’s Jimin?” Jin’s voice rang through the main room. Jungkook sat straight up, no longer brooding in front of Jin.   “He hasn’t come in yet,” I answered. “Which is weird, he’d usually be here by now.”   Jin suddenly looked panicked, if it was even possible for him. He approached the bar, another question sitting ready on his lips, when the entrance to the club opened.  As if on cue, Jimin walked into the room with his hood up and head low.   “Jimin?” Jin almost whispered. Jimin looked up slightly, acknowledging Jin’s presence before looking back at his shoes. Jin slowly stepped closer to Jimin, reaching out to pull his hood back.  Jimin looked at him, if only for a second, before turning away.   The blood that had stemmed from Jimin’s nose had already started to dry, but it still glistened in the light a little bit.  Fresh bruises covered his jaw bone, and one of his eyes was almost swollen shut.   Jin gripped the fabric of Jimin’s hoodie tight, white hot anger coursing through his veins.   “What happened?” Jin asked, trying to keep his voice calm.   “It’s not a big deal,” Jimin shrugged, trying to brush off the subject like he had done to us weeks ago.   “Yes, it is,” Jin insisted. He took Jimin’s hands in his own, getting his attention.   “It’s just my roommates,” Jimin sighed, but he squeezed Jin’s hands a little at the thought.   “ They do this to you?” Jin asked, to which Jimin nodded at the floor.   That night, after the curtains closed and the lights came on, Jin insisted Jimin came home with him instead of going back to that place .  Jimin was flustered, never expecting Jin to propose such a thing, but he went with him anyway.     The car ride was silent.  Jimin stared at the bright lights flashing past his window, curling in on himself in the passenger seat. Jin’s hand slowly moved from the gear shift, to the edge of Jimin’s seat, to his fingertips. Jimin was startled at first, but entwined his hand with Jin’s before looking out the window again.   Once they arrived at Jin’s home, Jimin couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He was amazed by the sheer size of the place, how one man could stand to live here all by himself.  What Jimin didn’t know was that Jin felt empty in such a big house, no one to share it with him.  He hated waking up in the morning to silence, nothing but his bare footsteps echoing off the high walls.   But Jimin’s presence in his home suddenly made him happier.  Or at least whatever broken version of happy Jin could feel.   Jimin had never seen so many beautiful and expensive things all in one place before. He felt the urge to explore, to touch everything. But he also felt that his even being there took value off the place. He didn’t feel worthy of walking on these floors, of breathing this air. And when Jin handed him some clean clothes to change into before bed, Jimin felt tears coming on.   “Jimin?” Jin was suddenly nervous. “Is something wrong?”   “No, I-” Jimin sniffled, fingers running over the surely-expensive fabric in his hands. “Thank you.”   Jimin stepped into Jin’s bedroom shyly, the Jin-sized clothes hanging from his body.  Jin took in his whole appearance, smiling at the fact that someone so beautiful could be here right now. In his clothes, in his bedroom.  It was almost as if he was living a normal life.   Jimin fell asleep in Jin’s arms, in a bed three times as big as his own.  He felt small against Jin, but he felt safe. Safe and warm.   Jin fell asleep watching Jimin’s chest rise and fall, counting each beat of his heart. He nuzzled into Jimin’s neck, silently vowing to protect him forever.   ===============================================================================   Before the night could come to a close, however, business had to continue as usual.  Jimin covered his wounds, icing his eye every once in a while to keep the swelling down, and performed his routine. Drink orders were called in my direction, but the process was boring without Hoseok’s commentary. Taehyung was holding back from rifling through the wallets of strangers, and Jungkook was just Jungkook. Right?   Jungkook was weaving his way through the outstretched legs and uneven cushy chairs, just trying to do his job. Then some greazy guy by the stage decided to have his cake and eat it too, reaching out and grabbing at Jungkook. Jungkook froze, clenched his fists so hard his knuckles turned white, and rounded on the man.   “Did you just grab my ass?” he spat the question, jaw set. Jungkook was shaking in anger, growling insult after insult at the man until every adjacent eye was on him.   “Whoa, whoa,” Taehyung pushed his way to Jungkook, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him away from the man. Jungkook didn’t stop yelling until they were away from the crowd.   “I should’ve hit him,” Jungkook snarled at floor once they were inside the dressing room. “Sick fuck-”   “Jungkook,” Taehyung shook Jungkook’s shoulders a little, trying to get his attention somewhere else. “What is going on with you?”   “I’m just-” Jungkook started, running his hands through his hair. “I can’t-”   “Jungkook-”   “I can’t fucking take it anymore!” Jungkook yelled, tears threatening to fall. “I can’t- do all this.  It’s too much- I-”   “Shhh,” Taehyung pulled Jungkook toward his chest, one hand rubbing his back and the other carding through his hair. Jungkook was shaking, everything he had bottled inside finally finding its way out. Even though repressing his feelings seemed easier at the time, it had hit him full force that night.   “I thought it would be okay,” he breathed. “I didn’t think any of this would happen.”   “I know,” Taehyung cooed, planting a small kiss on the crown of Jungkook’s head.   “It just keeps getting worse,” Jungkook mumbled.   “Don’t say that,” Taehyung whispered into Jungkook’s hair. “It’ll get better.”   “It can’t,” Jungkook growled, pulling away from Taehyung and wiping his eyes. “It’s not possible.”   And with that, Jungkook left the dressing room.  Taehyung stood frozen in place, just watching as Jungkook walked away. Jungkook went back to work, continued as if nothing had even happened. And that was just going to have to be good enough, he decided.   That night, Jin convinced a wary Jimin to stay with him, Jungkook left silently by Taehyung’s side, and I left alone .   ===============================================================================   Knock, knock, knock.   “Someone’s at the door,” Namjoon’s muffled voice said.   “‘S probably juss Yoongi,” Hoseok slurred, yawned.   “I still need to get up, Hobi,” Namjoon said, then a groan, footsteps drawing closer, and the door opening.   “Hey, Namjoon,” I smiled, keeping my voice low so as not to disturb the sleeping Hoseok on the couch.   “Hey,” he stepped away so I could come in. “You brought pizza?”   “Yeah,” I sighed, setting the box on the coffee table. “Shitty pizza from that place that’s open 24 hours.”   “Still pizza,” Namjoon shrugged, then started nudging Hoseok awake. “Yoongi brought food.”   We all sat around the pizza, eating slice after slice, and laughing. Almost as if everything was back to normal.  But we all knew “normal” was way out of reach.   “So how was work?” Hoseok asked, stiffening slightly at the thought.   “It was okay,” I shrugged. “Jimin’s roommates got a hold of him again.”   “ Again ?” Hoseok’s jaw almost dropped.   “The worst I’ve ever seen him,” I sighed. “His nose was still bleeding when he came in.”   “God…” Hoseok muttered. “What about Jungkook?”   “I dunno what the fuck is going on with him,” I mumbled, taking a bite. “He’s been all… tense . It’s not the same without you.”   “It’s never going to be the same, Yoongi.” Chapter End Notes only two more chapters to go can you handle it? I can't thank you <3 ***** two! three! (hoping for more good days) ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "That only good things will happen, that you won't get hurt anymore - - I can't say something like that. I can't lie like that." Chapter Notes *sweats nervously* See the end of the chapter for more notes “It’s been a pleasure doing business,” came a voice from just outside Jin’s office. The music was blaring, the crowd roaring. The small exchange went smoothly, unnoticed.  Nearly.   “Keep in touch,” Jin replied in a tone far from friendly. He stood firmly in the doorway, raising an eyebrow at the man’s outstretched hand. He took it, almost breaking the man’s bones with his grip. The man shook his hand back to life once his back was turned, making his way to the entrance to the club.   That’s when I noticed him.   He stopped and looked over at the bar almost as if contemplating a quick drink before he left.  But then his eyes met mine, locked on for a paralyzing second, before he continued on his way.   “Did you see that?” Jungkook asked, looking in the direction of where the man had been standing.   “Yeah,” I hadn’t been the only one to notice. “I’ll be back.”   The adrenaline was almost instantaneous.  It was hard to breathe, heart pumping in double time and hands shaking. Whether in fear or fury, I never knew. Probably both.   Jin knew better than to bring his outside work to the club, especially during hours. He knew the risks attached, the dangers it posed. He knew , but he still took the chance.   “Jin,” I called, swinging his office door open without so much as knocking. “Who was that?”   “What are you doing in here, Min?” he growled, suddenly standing and slamming his hands on his desk.   “Who was that?” I asked again, voice rising.   “It doesn’t concern you-”   “It could!” I yelled, pointing out the office door. “You know damn well what could happen!”   “And you know that you’re perfectly safe here!” Jin yelled back, leaning forward on his desk, the vein in his neck popping.   “I hope so,” I muttered, looking into Jin’s eyes before walking straight from the room.   But even as he stared after my retreating back, he didn’t quite believe himself.  Nothing was ever certain in his life, especially safety. His hands shook as they raked through his hair, a ragged breath falling from his lips. He knew what he did, what risk he took, even if he realized it too late.   He knew .   And he never forgave himself for it.   “Hyung?” Jungkook’s eyes were wide when I came back to the bar. “What happened?”   “Nothing,” I dismissed, not meeting his eyes. Jungkook scrunched his eyebrows, not buying my answer.   “Hyung, come with me,” he said.   “Jungkook, I’m working,” I sighed. “And you should be, too.”   “Just for a minute,” he pleaded.   “Okay,” I gave in, stepping out from behind the bar and allowing Jungkook to pull me into the empty dressing room. “What is it?”   “Something’s not right,” Jungkook whispered, still gripping my arm.   “What do you mean?” I raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed.   “You know what I mean,” he tugged on my sleeve a little. “It feels like something bad is gonna happen.”   “Jungkook-”     “No, don’t tell me I’m making it up,” Jungkook’s voice was firm. “I know you feel it, too, hyung.”   “I believe you,” I sighed. “But there’s nothing we can do.”   “I was afraid you’d say that,” Jungkook dropped his eyes to the floor, and his bottom lip poked out a bit.   “Come on,” I nudged him toward the main room. “Let’s get back to work.”   Jungkook would never know how nervous he made me, how much he scared me when he talked like that. Maybe I was supposed to be the brave one, the one he could turn to when everything went dark. How could one person make you feel stronger and weaker at the same time? How was it possible that the warmth from his hand still burned my skin after he let go?   Jungkook looked at me with his big doe-eyes, the same ones that smiled when he laughed.  The same ones that were still painfully beautiful when he cried. Then he disappeared into the crowd before I realized it, before I could even think about reaching for him, begging him not to go.   But soon enough, Jimin emerged to distract me, pull me back into reality.  He took a seat at the bar, wiping the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand and panting slightly. His skin glistened, the sweat and glitter combining to make a shimmering galaxy of sin.   “Can I get a water, hyung?” he asked, voice breathless and chest heaving. I slid him a glass of ice water, and he chugged it steadily. He sipped the second glass casually, taking time to actually catch his breath.   Like most things with Jimin, the conversation came easily and comfortably.  Though I think sometimes he just liked the sound of his own voice.  He smiled, rambling on about all the things he felt I should be up to date with.   “So he took you in?” I asked, the topic having drifted to the other night. Before Jimin could reply however, Taehyung approached the bar.   “I need a dry martini,” he called, coming to rest his elbows on the bar’s surface.   “Um- yeah,” Jimin answered, eyes trained on the drink being mixed in front of him. “His place really surprised me. Though I don’t know what else I was expecting from Jin-”   “You went home with Jin?” Taehyung interrupted, body tensing ever so slightly.   “Is that a problem?” Jimin spat. Taehyung’s fists clenched.   “No,” he growled, taking the drink and turning away. “You’re allowed to make mistakes.”   Taehyung faded into the crowd, Jimin staring after him with every step. His brows were furrowed so hard, I thought they were going to freeze like that.   “What the hell was that about?” Jimin asked incredulously, turning to face me again. We all spent the rest of the night wondering what was going on in Taehyung’s head.  He was short with his drink orders, forgoing small talk to glare at Jimin on stage. He was even short with Jungkook, keeping his distance and pointedly ignoring him.   No one did anything, no one asked. Jungkook just sighed at the ground at every dismissal, continuing on his way with his head hung a little lower. It hurt to watch -- to see Jungkook’s morale shatter -- but the most I could do was stare daggers in Taehyung’s general direction.   I was never brave when it came to Jungkook.   Maybe I was never brave at all.   ===============================================================================   “I’m here, it’s okay,” came a voice from the entrance, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Namjoon.   “I know, I just-” came Hoseok’s next. He stopped speaking as soon as he stepped into the building. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and squeezed Namjoon’s hand a little.   “Hoseok?” I stepped out from behind the bar, not quite believing my eyes. “What are you doing here?”   “I came to, um-” he cleared his throat. “I came to get my things.”   “Why now?” I asked. “I mean, why so late?”   The club had just closed for the night. The lights were switched on and everyone was winding down.  Hoseok looked around, at Jungkook throwing all the discarded trash into a bag, at Jimin massaging all the tired muscles in his body.   “I wanted to wait until Namjoon got off work,” he replied, looking up at Namjoon with soft eyes. “I couldn’t do it alone.”   But once inside the private room, Hoseok couldn’t move.  He stood in the doorway, scowling at every inch of the room. He was tempted to turn around and leave without his things. They couldn’t be that important, could they?   “Hobi?” Namjoon looked up at Hoseok, stopping in the middle of the room once he realized Hoseok hadn’t followed.   “I’m fine,” Hoseok’s voice was rough, almost a growl.   Namjoon held out a hand for Hoseok to take, but Hoseok just stared at it. Namjon expected it, his eyes softening as he watched the gears turn in Hoseok’s head.  After what felt like hours to Hoseok, he reached out and allowed himself to be pulled farther into the room.   Back in the main room, Jungkook tied the final trash bag closed and heaved them all to the entrance. Jimin rushed to open the door for him, seeing as his hands were full, and Jungkook slipped out into the night.  Cinders and broken glass crunched under his feet as he made his way to the dumpster.  He tossed the bags in with a grunt, grimacing at the feeling of something wet getting on his hand.   Before he took his first step toward the club’s entrance -- before he even turned his head -- he heard it. Freezing in his place, he listened closely for the sound again.   Footsteps . Crunching on the rough ground and agonizingly slow.   Goosebumps erupted on his skin, and he suddenly found it very hard to breathe. He couldn’t run, not if somebody was watching him. He had to walk back as if he didn’t hear a thing. So he put one tentative foot in front of the other and tried to act cool. The cold metal of the door’s handle shocked his skin, but he slipped inside like everything was okay.   On the opposite end of the room, Taehyung had just emerged from the dressing room in his normal clothes.   “There’s someone outside,” Jungkook’s voice was shaking, much like the rest of his body. He sought me out, standing by my side as if I could protect him.   “It’s probably nothing,” I told him, though I’m not sure I believed myself.   “What if it’s not-” “Stop it with the paranoia , Jungkook,” Taehyung barked, crossing the room slowly. Jungkook stared at him with wide eyes, like he couldn’t believe Taehyung would say something so harsh.   “But-”   “No,” Taehyung cut him off again. “It’s ridiculous.”   “ Taehyung ,” my tone was warning, but he ignored it.   “You act like everyday is your last, Jungkook,” Taehyung kept digging, stepping closer with each word.   “You,” step.   “Are,” step.   “ Fine, ” step.   Jungkook just stood blinking at Taehyung, eyes wide and bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.  He gulped hard, working up the power to say something under Taehyung’s gaze.   “I just don’t want anyone else to get hurt,” he whispered, eyes falling to his feet.   “Maybe you should back off, Taehyung,” Jimin growled, hopping down from his spot on the bar’s surface.   “Maybe you should mind your own fucking business, Jimin ,” Taehyung spat back. Jimin’s hands curled into fists by his sides, his mouth opening to retort.   “What’s going on?” Hoseok’s voice filled the room, making both boys stop and look at him. Hoseok looked to me for answers, but I just shrugged. I really couldn’t explain what was happening to everyone.   “Hoseok?” Jin stepped into the room with his brow furrowed. He looked genuinely shocked to see Hoseok and Namjoon in the club. “You came back?”   “Not for good,” Hoseok replied, face hard.   “I know that,” Jin’s voice was about as soft as it could be. Hoseok didn’t say anything else to him, simply unable to find the strength to do so.  Jin seemed to accept the quick end to the conversation, crossing the room to stand next to Jimin.   Taehyung’s eyes narrowed when Jin put his hands on Jimin’s shoulders.  His fists clenched when Jimin leaned into Jin’s touch. Just when Taehyung looked like he had enough -- tears welling and mouth opening as if to say something - - the door to the club slammed open.   All heads turned in unison. I could feel my heart stop for  just a second, and Jungkook grabbed onto my arm like it was his only lifeline. Jin’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly -- perhaps in fear -- before they narrowed dangerously.   “We’re clo-”   But the gunshot cut Jin off before he could finish.   No one even noticed the gun in the man’s hand, not until it was too late.   Taehyung hadn’t moved, hadn’t so much as let his tears fall.  He stood paralyzed on the edge of the scene, not even able to breathe.   Jimin had watched the whole thing play out, silent tears leaving tracks down his cheeks. But he couldn’t move to wipe them away. He couldn’t even try to stop Jin and he cocked his gun, taking after the man who had disappeared into the street.   Somewhere in the deafening silence, Hoseok was screaming. He was choking on his tears, trying to break free of Namjoon’s hold. Namjoon was surprised at his own strength when all he felt was incredibly weak.   Jungkook -- oh, Jungkook -- was muttering “no, no, no” under his breath. He was sobbing, so hard that each breath shook his whole body. I could almost feel him trembling, unable to let go of his death grip on my arm.   But I was already lying on the floor with a bullet hole between my eyes. Chapter End Notes this is not the end, it's not over yet. yikes ***** interlude: wings ***** Chapter by ivythebug Chapter Summary "This is the path you've chosen, kid. Don't chicken out. This is only the first flight, after all." Chapter Notes this is it homies See the end of the chapter for more notes There was never any hope for me.   That much was obvious.  But at least the others were stronger than me.   They always had been.   Maybe Hoseok especially. It took him some time to feel somewhat okay, to stop jumping at small noises or suspicious shadows. To not worry himself sick when it took Namjoon a little longer to make it home after work. He started to hate feeling useless, trapped inside the apartment that seemed to be closing in on him more everyday.   So he started going back to his old dance studio, just to have something to do. To distract him. One day, someone approached him after a session, saying he was incredible, asking him if he wanted to be an instructor. Permanently.   Hoseok agreed wholeheartedly.   Namjoon saw Hoseok change before his eyes, saw his determination to best his trauma. He smiled ear to ear when Hoseok came home from work dripping in sweat and so, so tired. He slept easier when Hoseok wrapped his arms around him instead of curling into a ball. He even believed Hoseok when he told Namjoon going back to school would be a good idea.   Life seemed somewhat normal, a sense of balance having been restored. But it still hurt every time Hoseok thought about that place. It hurt every single day when Hoseok walked past my apartment door, just knowing that I wasn’t going to be inside.   * * * * *   “What are you in the mood for?” Hoseok asked, his stomach rumbling as he locked the apartment door.   “Somewhere quiet so can study,” Namjoon replied, heaving his backpack onto his shoulders. Hoseok didn’t mind the request, finding it so peaceful to watch Namjoon study.   “There’s this little place down-” but Hoseok’s voice trailed off.  Namjoon stopped walking once he realized Hoseok wasn’t by his side. He turned to find him staring at some boxes stacked up along the wall.   “Hobi?” he asked with furrowed brows. But Hoseok couldn’t hear him over the blood rushing in his ears. He watched as a man and woman moved some of the boxes into the apartment. My apartment.   “Excuse me,” he asked the man, his voice coming out weird. His throat was suddenly dry. “What are you doing?”   The man gave Hoseok a strange look, not sure if this was a joke or not. After a moment he said, “Moving in…?”   “Here?” Hoseok’s voice was definitely weaker, and his hand shook as he gestured to my apartment.   “Yes…?” the man really couldn’t understand what was happening. But Namjoon did, and he pulled Hoseok away as gently as he could, muttering an apology to the man.   “What was that?” he whispered once Hoseok had fallen into step with him again.   “I just got… so angry ,” Hoseok scrunched his eyebrows and shook his head a little bit.   Though Hoseok was good at distracting himself, he would never get used to that couple living in my apartment. He would never get used to the nightmares, even though they seemed to be fading just a little. He would never get used to my absence, and it tore him up.   ===============================================================================   Jimin didn’t do so well in the days that followed my death. The shock had almost completely consumed him, paralyzed him.   He couldn’t get it out of his head, everything playing on repeat. Hoseok’s screams of pure agony, Jungkook trembling out of his skin, my lifeless body slowly going cold.   Jimin had spent a whole day lying in Jin’s bed, falling in and out of sleep. Jimin couldn’t understand why his nightmares and his real life were equally painful.   But during that day, Jin had slipped out of the house without telling Jimin where he was going. He had gone to Jimin’s shared apartment, stripped it of the few things Jimin owned, and brought them back to his own home. He figured it would be easier to take care of Jimin if he just lived with him, right?   “Jimin?” Jin whispered, lightly nudging Jimin’s stiff body. “Do you want to try to eat something?”   Jimin mumbled something that Jin was sure wasn’t even words and shook his head a little bit. But Jin wasn’t going to settle for that. Jimin hadn’t eaten in days -- had only kept himself hydrated with Jin’s help -- and Jin was not about to let him starve.   Jin frowned at the inside of his refrigerator. As a recent bachelor who was barely ever home, he didn’t have much to choose from. He gathered what little he had, figuring he’d just wing it and hope for something to come from it.   Jin never cooked for himself -- never had any reason to -- so his skills outside of ramen were very questionable. He worried his bottom lip as he mixed things together, swore under his breath when he almost burned himself, and sighed in relief when the food turned out… not so bad.   Jin carried a plate up to the bedroom, fanning it with his hand so it would cool faster, and prayed Jimin would eat it for him. He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out a hand to Jimin’s back.   “Jimin,” he rubbed Jimin’s back a little, trying to motivate him. “Can you sit up for me?”   Jimin grunted something, shifted slightly, and stopped. Jin slumped his shoulders and sighed, thinking maybe this was hopeless. But Jimin started moving again, slowly. He sat up, rubbed his swollen eyes with his fists, and looked over at Jin.   “You have to eat something,” Jin gestured to the plate in his hand.   “I’m not hungry,” Jimin muttered, fixing his vision to a random corner of the room.   “Jimin, please,” Jin tried to not let his frustration show, but Jimin could sense it. He inched himself closer to Jin, not quite ready but at least testing the waters. Jin prepared a bite, blew on it a little so it didn’t burn, and slowly raised it to Jimin’s mouth.   Jimin eyed the food in front of him for a moment, sure he didn’t want it. But he was also sure that he didn’t want to disappoint Jin. He came closer, nibbling a little before he took the whole bite. It felt awkward in his mouth, like it shouldn’t be there, and it wouldn’t go down his throat. He swallowed hard, cringing at the effort, and opened his mouth for more.   Jimin finished about half of the plate Jin prepared, and Jin decided that was good enough for now. Jimin settled back into the tangle of blankets, curling himself into the fetal position. Jin felt something tighten inside him at the sight. Without even changing his clothes, Jin slipped under the covers and wrapped his arms around Jimin’s small body. He fell asleep to the sound of Jimin’s occasional sniffles, to the little twitches of his fingers and nose.   ===============================================================================   Taehyung and Jungkook were fighting so many battles. All the arguing and distancing had been chipping away at their relationship, but feeling my life slip right through Jungkook’s fingers had put the final nail in the coffin.   If Jungkook had anywhere else to go, he would have been gone a long time ago. But he had to stay, had to see Taehyung everyday, had to pretend that he wasn’t completely broken inside. He spent as much time as he could away from the apartment, eventually scoring himself a job at a fast food joint down the block.     Jungkook would come home smelling like grease and sweat, pride burning from a shift at a real job, and turn his nose up at Taehyung. Much to Jungkook’s dismay -- not that he cared -- Taehyung had gone back to the streets, doing what he did best. He came home with dirty money, stolen money, that Jungkook wanted nothing to do with.   Jungkook didn’t speak to Taehyung, didn’t even look at him. In such a confined space, the distance seemed unreal. It dug at Taehyung’s brain, at his very soul. It hurt to think about the relationship they once had, they way they had almost loved each other once upon a time.   Taehyung didn’t think the pain could get any worse. That is until he uncovered something he thought was better left forgotten.   * * * * *   The door creaked open and Jungkook lightly stepped inside. The sound didn’t wake Taehyung, for he couldn’t sleep anyway. Jungkook had come home three hours later than usual, and Taehyung was almost certain the restaurant wasn’t open that late.   Jungkook tried to sneak through the apartment, thinking Taehyung had gone to bed long ago.   “Where have you been?” Taehyung’s voice rumbled through the dark.   “Why do you care?” Jungkook snarled back, flipping the nearest light switch.   “I thought something happened to you,” Taehyung’s tone resembled that of a disappointed parent.   “Why don’t you stop being so paranoid ?” Jungkook couldn’t help the way his voice was rising, the way his blood grew hotter.   “Jungkook, I just care about you-”   “You stopped caring a long time ago!” Jungkook yelled, not thinking about the neighbors at this time of night. “About me, at least.”   “What are you talking about?” Taehyung stepped closer.   “I saw the way you looked at him,” Jungkook growled. “Don’t think you’re slick.”   “Jungkook-”   “No!” Jungkook started to back away as Taehyung got closer. “You were too busy thinking about a guy who didn’t give two shits about you to realize how much I needed you!”   Taehyung felt weaker suddenly, had to reach out for something to keep him balanced. But he knocked over a stack of books, and a little box that sat next to them. Taehyung felt numb. He knew exactly what was in that box, and he knew that it had just gone to waste.   He didn’t have the strength to stop Jungkook from picking it up.   “What is this?” he asked, staring at the silver bracelet inside. He looked up at Taehyung when he didn’t answer, noticing how shiny his eyes had become. He picked up the bracelet and saw the inscription.   “What is this?” his voice was louder this time. The metal almost cut into his skin from clutching it so hard. He knew it was meant for him, a gift that never found its way.   “I got it for your birthday,” Taehyung’s voice was rough, barely there.   “Let me guess,” Jungkook spat. “You bought it with money you didn’t earn.”   Taehyung nodded, unable to speak a confession. Jungkook threw the bracelet to the ground, strode past Taehyung without a word, and crawled into bed.   Taehyung spent the rest of the night sitting in that same spot. He couldn’t move, let alone sleep with a conscience this heavy. With a heart that hurt so damn much.   ===============================================================================   As for me?   Well, nothing can be said for me. Chapter End Notes first of all, thank you so much for taking the time to read this mess. It means a lot second, I'm gonna come back with some new stories (maybe even a little supplementary something for wings *wink*) soon, but I'm gonna take a little hiatus for now love you guys! hope you enjoyed :) Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!