Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Fear. It’s a necessary part of life. It doesn’t make one weak but strong when they acknowledge they have it, need it. It allows you to assess a situation, discover a threat, a danger. Activate your fight or flight.

Jimin always fights, always disguises his fear. There is rarely a time he can’t fight, that fleeing is his best option, but sometimes he’s afraid enough that he considers it. He’ll admit it. To himself only because telling others what scares you is a weakness. 

There are many things that Jimin is afraid of. He is afraid of something happening to his sister, running over animals while driving, and driving in general. Sometimes his adrenaline feels a little too much like fear when a weapon is pulled out during a fight, especially if it’s a gun. He still fills with fear whenever Taehyung doesn’t answer the phone or call him back after hours, even though Jimin knows he’s probably just playing his games again. Birds make him a bit uneasy, and thick crowds are something he likes to avoid. 

And then there’s the one person he’s afraid of; Jeon Jungkook.

Anyone who is not afraid of Jeon Jungkook is an idiot. Just the stories of the sadistic, violent ways Jungkook’s known to kill and torment is enough to create a tremor in Jimin’s bones. He radiates an air of arrogance, his face a mask of threat, eyes dead of feeling. He’ll tear a man’s life apart and not give a shit about it. 

Jimin’s only laid eyes on the man once. A glimpse, but enough to know the stories that circulate around about Jeon Jungkook are true.

He’s afraid, but Jimin is a professional at masking it. He can make his face look void of emotion, can make his eyes look just as dead and uncaring. He can hide the tremors in his fingers and ignore the tumbling feeling in his gut. It’s why he’s perfect for the job. 

Jimin looks over the files. The light in the office is dim, and gives the air an ominous feeling. He could open the curtains and take in the city lights, but he prefers the peace that comes with darkness. Exhaustion is heavy on his shoulders, heavy beneath his eyes, but he won’t show it.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

The man across from him looks impressed. Jimin isn’t used to that look on his wrinkled face. At least not directed towards him.

“Yes. I’m the best for the job. If anyone can go toe to toe with Jungkook, it’s me. And no one knows my face.”

The old man across from him looks him over once, twice. He sighs as the corners of his lips stretch high into his cheeks. Jimin’s always thought him to look like the Joker when he smiles like that. “I am happy to see you finally taking your position here serious, Jimin-ah. This is a high risk job.”

“Everything in this life is a high risk job,” Jimin retorts. He rubs at his eyebrow, his exhaustion growing. Whenever he talks to Jaegyu, he feels drained. “And I’m sure you’ll be happy to have me out of your hair.”

The old man laughs. “It will be nice without you. Maybe with you gone, Namjoon and Taehyung will finally be motivated to do their fucking jobs correctly.”

Jimin wrinkles his nose. No one is more harder working than Namjoon. But whatever Namjoon has been assigned to do has been difficult for him. He often cusses about how he can’t figure something out without giving Jimin too much detail. But he spends hours and hours, sometimes not sleeping, holed up in security room in his attempts to figure it out.

As for Taehyung, it’s Jimin’s fault he doesn’t do the jobs Jaegyu tries to give him. That much is true. Jimin usually deflects it to someone else, doesn’t even tell Taehyung about them.

“I have one condition, though. I need you to keep Taehyung out of the streets. For the time being, Taehyung is working for me and not you.”

It’s a touchy subject, but one person Jimin is not afraid of is Jaegyu. The last time he had tried to tell Jaegyu that Taehyung was out, wasn’t pretty but Jimin took it with his head held high.

“Someone has to take care of her, and I only trust Taehyung to do it.”

The laughter dies, and the old man looks aggravated instead. His eyes narrow down into Jimin, but Jimin isn’t afraid. He can hit Jimin with his fists, or any harsh word he wants. Jimin’s grown immune to it.

“That is your only condition?”

Jimin nods, pushing the files in front of him across the desk. “Don’t assign him to a single thing, not even a simple hacking task. His only responsibility will be taking care of her until I return.”

There is amusement in the Jaegyu’s eyes as he cocks his head to the side and steadies his eyes down at Jimin. “She has guards already.”

“I don’t trust them,” Jimin replies without hesitation. It’s a topic that Jaegyu prefers to avoid whenever Jimin brings it up. The idea that his men aren’t loyal seems to be absurd to him. But it’s absurd to Jimin that this man can so blindly trust so many people. 

Taehyung is the only person Jimin trusts with everything and anything, and as impossible as it seems for Taehyung to ever break that, Jimin knows it’s technically possible.

“You shouldn’t trust so many people with her either,” Jimin goes on. He isn’t afraid to steady his eyes into Jaegyu, to challenge him. It irritates the man, makes his jaw tense. Jimin finds something satisfying about how easily he can get beneath Jaegyu’s skin. 

“My guards are trained and much stronger than Taehyung. We could use him in other fields. Min’s men are starting to deal in our streets, Jimin-ah. They got their feet in the moment Taehyung stopped running for me.”

Jimin leans into the dim cast of light from the lamp at the corner of the desk so Jaegyu can see his face clearly. “Trained is fine but your guards wouldn’t risk their lives for her. Taehyung would. Plus, I thought we were in the works to partner with Min, no?”

Jaegyu glares at him. He braces himself for a punch, but it doesn’t come. “It still makes us look bad. Taehyung was bringing in a lot of money from dealing.”

Jimin doesn’t want to hear it. “Absolutely no. We can talk about it later when I’ve returned. Now, do we have a deal or not?”

Ignoring the hand Jimin holds out, Jaegyu grabs the files on the desk. “You can get us what we need? Can convince him your loyalty lies with him and only him?”

Jimin smirks at the doubt in Jaegyu’s eyes. “You’ve made the mistake before of underestimating me.”

Jaegyu presses his tongue into his cheek, eyes scanning over the files. He knows it’s true, but he is a man of pride and won’t admit it, even if he were about to die and saying that would be the only thing to spare him.

“You have a deal, Jimin-ah.”

“You’re not really going to do this, are you?” Taehyung asks. He paces when he’s stressed, and soon there’s going to be an oval shaped hole in Jimin’s carpet from the friction of his slippers. “It’s really stupid.”

Jimin shoves a few of his things into his suitcase. It’s small - he can’t bring much with him. He’s no one, a man who came from nothing. That’s his story, and he has to show that. “It’s not that dumb, Tae. Do you think Jeon is a match for me?”

Taehyung isn’t as amused as Jimin wants him to be. He fluffs the hair at the back of his head, a habit of his when he’s stressed. “Jungkook is a killer, Jimin.”

“So am I,” Jimin reminds him. “I promise, I’ll be fine.”

Rolling his eyes, Taehyung stops his pacing to narrow those eyes at Jimin. “He’s a cold-blooded killer, Jimin. You’re not. You only kill for a reason.”

Sure, sure. The semantics of it all aren’t important to Jimin. He’s taken lives, he’s killed people. It is a little different, but it’s also not the point. “If he tries to kill me, I’ll kill him first.”

Jimin says it simply, factually, even if he truly has no idea what he would be up against. He has heard the rumors of how vicious he can be but he’s never heard anyone talk about how Jungkook fights . He’s never seen it.

As confident as Jimin is in his own fighting skills, he won’t let himself become cocky. Jungkook could be better than him, but probably not. He has to prepare himself just in case.

Taehyung plays with his hair again, tugging the strands behind his ear and Jimin softens. He really is stressed, his chest puffing out and caving in harshly as he sighs. 

“You don’t look stressed,” Taehyung points out, flinging a hand to Jimin as he rolls one of his shirts to pack it away.

“Because I’m not,” Jimin answers truthfully. “It’s just another assignment, Tae. Nothing different than what we’ve done before.”

Taehyung’s hands turn into fists by his sides. He starts pacing again, teeth nibbling into his bottom lip as he watches Jimin pack. “Yeah but, this is Jeon Jungkook.”

“I know,” Jimin says. “He’s a man. Men are easy.”

Taehyung finally grins at that, but it doesn’t smooth out all of the anxiety in his face. “You can’t seduce him. What if he isn’t into men?”

Jimin laughs. He has to squeeze his jeans to fit into the suitcase, and he considers pulling out a few of his t-shirts. “I didn’t just mean seduction, Tae. If it’s necessary, sure.”

Another exhale and Taehyung flops onto the end of the bed, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes. “What if he’s into that really aggressive sex shit?”

“Like you?” Jimin asks, raising an eyebrow. “You literally like being choked.”

Offense fills Taehyung eyes and he stands back up, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Okay? What’s your point? We’re not talking about me.”

Jimin cackles, back bending from the force of it. “Tae, Taehyungie, I promise, I can handle myself. You know this.”

It isn’t enough to smooth out the glare in Taehyung’s eyes. “I know.”

“Come here, Tae.”

Taehyung is a fighter. He instigates fights a lot, which causes them a lot of problems, but he always finishes them too. He’s not as afraid of Jimin. Sometimes, he makes dumb decisions because he ignores his flight and only focuses on his fight. 

But right now, he pushes his lips into the biggest pout that Jimin’s ever seen, and his eyes are so wide and droopy, tugging at Jimin’s heart strings. He looks small, nothing like a man that likes to get his hands dirty and bloody.

“Aw,” Jimin murmurs, holding his arms out to pull Taehyung into a hug. “Don’t worry about me, babe. I’ve yet to meet anyone I can’t take on, and Jeon is no different.”

Taehyung props his chin on Jimin’s shoulder. “I know that. But, you know me. Even if you can handle yourself, I feel better knowing I am fighting beside you.”

Jimin smiles and teases a strand of brown hair behind Taehyung’s ear, cooing loudly as he tugs on it. It ends with Taehyung shoving Jimin off, hands springing out to wrestle Jimin back.

They find themselves on the floor next to Jimin’s bed a few rolls and gentle punches later. They stare up at the ceiling, Taehyung threading their fingers together between them.

Taehyung is his best friend. They learned to take their first step together, learned to throw their first punch together. Jimin takes himself and his safety extremely serious because he’s sure the universe will make sure they die together too. Risking his own safety is risking Taehyung’s.

“We won’t be able to talk much,” Taehyung reminds him.

“I know.”

They have gone on assignments before that’s limited their communication, but this one could take months. The longest he’s been out of contact with Taehyung was a few weeks. It’s one of the things Jimin is dreading most. 

“If Jungkook kills you, I have to kill him,” Taehyung sighs, turning to look at him. “Keep that in mind.”

Jimin snorts out his laugh. “He won’t be able to kill me.”

Fear is something he never lets anyone see, but he thinks Taehyung is aware when he feels it. His fingers squeeze a little more tightly around Jimin’s, but he doesn’t say a word about it. They lay like that for awhile, like they used to when they were younger. Except then, they could still fit beneath Jimin’s bed and hide away from everything. 

Jeon Jungkook. No birth record. Between 18-25 years of age. Only (?) child of Jeon Yunbok and Kim Saeyeon.

The files are spread out across Jimin’s bed. He’s read them over so many times, he could recite them. But he continues to read each note as if it’s new information.

As many rumors as there are of Jeon Jungkook, they’re just that. Rumors. There are only a few hard facts, indicated by a bolded line beneath. But even those are worded in speculation.

Official job title: Unknown. Suspected Jeon Jungkook runs the Jeon Golf Resort in Gyeonggi-do. 

Jimin sighs, cracking his neck. It’s quite late, and exhaustion sits heavy on his bones. But anticipation and nerves are louder, keeping him awake. It feels almost obsessive the way he reads Jungkook’s files, but Jimin never goes into a mission unprepared. He needs to know every detail.

And there are so little details that he feels uneasy.

There’s more information on those speculated to run with him, and Jimin flicks back to them. He’s studied their faces so much they’re almost as familiar as his own at this point. 

Taehyung had hidden away in the spare bedroom only a few hours previously. The sounds of him playing his video games were quiet, but enough to distract Jimin from the task at hand. It could be his own tiredness, as he found it difficult to focus even when Taehyung fell quiet. 

Now the silence is heavy. The later it gets, the louder the silence becomes. It hangs heavy as he tries to read over Namjoon’s hastily scribbled notes, taking up the sides of page in the files. He’s good at hacking but Jungkook’s hacker is a good competitor. Whenever Namjoon can finally breach the security of one of Jungkook’s accounts, he has a minute - maybe only seconds before he’s being kicked out.

It leads to letters that make no sense and random words spread around that Namjoon usually struggles to remember the meaning of. 

“Cat? Catmosphere?” Jimin sighs, staring down at Namjoon’s messy handwriting. He touches gently over the letters like that somehow can make it more clear. “Myeondong? Joon, what the fuck.”

Jimin presses his lips together when the silence is interrupted. He tenses his ears, listening for the sound of a door down the hallway creaking. He quickly pushes the files together when he hears her voice and her feet padding over the hardwood floor. 

She tries to be quiet when sneaking into his room, but she has a habit of babbling when she’s sleepy. Most of it is nonsense that’s just as hard to decipher as Namjoon’s writing, but it’s usually mixed with his or Taehyung’s name. 

The first sight of her chubby face peeking through the crack of his door has Jimin standing from the bed. Her eyes widen when she realizes she’s been caught, but she quickly hangs her head. The look on her face is one of a beaten pup, something that Taehyung has most definitely taught her.

“Oppa,” Jia whined softly. “Can’t sleep.”

She’s getting too big to lift up but Jimin does anyway. Namjoon says he shouldn’t baby her for too long but Jimin doesn’t care. He’ll grow stronger, strengthen the muscles in his arms, to be able to hold her as she grows.

“Nightmares?”

Jia shakes her head as she tucks it into his neck. He’s careful bringing her to his bed and laying her where the files had once been. 

“I saw your suitcase.”

Sitting beside her, he wipes her hair from her forehead. He doesn’t say anything as her eyes close and eyebrows press towards each other.

He’s practiced what to say, but the words are stuck in his throat now. Before, she had been too young to understand that he’s going away for awhile. She’s probably still too young to understand but she’s old enough to notice his absence.

“I want to go too,” Jia goes on before Jimin can say anything anyway.

Jimin smiles as he runs his finger down the bridge of her nose and watches it crinkle in response. “You have to take care of Taehyungie. He can’t be by himself.”

Jia peeks an eye open to stare up at him. When she sighs, it sounds as heavy as the silence that had filled the room before she came in. “Okay, fine. I’ll take good care of him.”

She laughs when Jimin leans in, wiggling his nose into her cheek. “I know you will little lion.”

When she finally is asleep again, Jimin gently guides her to the middle of his bed. He knows sleep won’t come to him, but he goes through his regular routine of making sure the lights are off in the house and the doors locked. He checks the security tapes, makes sure the alarm is on, and pushes open the door to his guest room to remind Taehyung not to set them off.

He’s still awake, eyes peering hard at the television screen that he’s pulled across the room to sit in front of the large king bed. It’s the only light in the room and reflecting in Taehyung’s eyes. His thumbs move furiously over the control in his hands, his tongue squeezed between his teeth.

“Fuck you, Uruno,” Taehyung grunts. He brings the controller closer to his face. “Are you on drugs, man? You totally let that zombie get me.”

Jimin clears his throat as he reaches up, knocking his knuckles against the door frame. Taehyung only glances at him as he continues to play. 

When Jimin continues to look at him, Taehyung sighs heavily and pauses the game. “Gimme a sec, broski. Min is here.”

His hair is a wreck when Taehyung removes the headset. It’s bunched up at the crown of his head and sticking up around his ears. “What’s up?”

“Jia is in my room,” Jimin tells him. “You should sleep.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “I can’t. Plus, I’m on a roll. Uruno -”

“Uruno? Like the manga?”

Taehyung nods. Jimin can’t help but laugh, though it dies when Taehyung doesn’t look amused. 

“I told everyone on here my name is Leomon, and Uruno figured I was bullshitting and gave me a bullshit name in return,” Taehyung explains. “Gotta be cautious right? Just in case someone on here is the enemy.”

It’s meant to be taunting. Jimin is a little over paranoid when it comes to protecting their bodies and their identities. It can be difficult, not letting Jia have friends over and not letting her go to anyone’s house. Taehyung doesn’t agree with the homeschooling even if Jimin’s hired one of the best teachers in South Korea. 

Not even their Netflix account is in their actual names. Just in case. 

“And I’m Min?”

Taehyung nods, grinning. “I’m not that clever, babe.”

Jimin returns Taehyung’s grin as he watches him pull on the headset again. Taehyung is one of the smartest people out there, much more clever than himself. “Go to sleep, Tae.”

“You should play,” Taehyung says, ignoring him. He holds out the controller and wiggling his eyebrows. “I know you aren’t going to sleep either. Could at least have fun. Isn’t that right Uruno? Min should play.”

Jimin rolls his eyes fondly. He doesn’t take the controller, but he does cross the bedroom to tickle his fingers beneath Taehyung’s chin. The response from Taehyung’s online friend is muffled through the headset, but Jimin doesn’t ask.

It makes him nervous when Taehyung posts videos online and talks about his life with people he can’t even see. It might just be Jimin being paranoid, it’s probably that, but paranoia has become a part of him ever since Jia was born.

Before that, even. When she was still growing in her mother’s stomach. Just thinking about anything happening to her is enough to have Jimin’s chest feeling like his heart is being torn out.

“I’ll watch one game, and then sleep,” Jimin says as he crawls on the bed beside Taehyung and leans against his shoulder. 

Taehyung snorts, mumbling to himself. “One game, yeah.”

“You know Jiminnie loves you, yes?”

Jia is still quite young, cheeks chubby and eyes still full of innocence. Right now they’re heavy with sleep, her lips smacking after a yawn. Her little fingers are still tight where they grip into Jimin’s shirt, pulling him close, keeping him from leaving.

Since Jimin has decided to leave, he has been dreading this moment. He knew saying goodbye to her was going to be difficult, even if she didn’t fully understand that Jimin was going to be away for some time.

“Right, pumpkin? Oppa loves you.”

Jia flutters her eyes shut when she nods, brows slowly pushing together as her lips pout out. Her voice slurs with sleep, her words still tinted with that lisp children have.

“Don’t go, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin sighs, petting the hair from her forehead before planting a kiss there. “Sleep, Jia. You know your Taehyungie will take care of you well.”

He waits until she is finally asleep, chest rising and falling slowly before he eases her fingers from his shirt and leaves.

It’s tempting to stay beside her for a few more minutes, but he forces from the bed. Hesitation will keep him from walking out of her bedroom door.

Hesitation will make him scream fuck all to all of this and he can’t have that. He needs to do this.

“You know I’ll take care of her.”

Taehyung waits for him in the hallway, his all black attire making him blend into the dark. He leans against the wall, the night light from Jia’s room enough for Jimin to see the promise in his eyes. There are bags beneath them because he had really spent the entire night playing Fortnite with Jimin by his side.

“I know.”

Taehyung pushes from the wall then to clap his hand around the side of Jimin’s neck. The fear is obvious there, his heart pounding roughly in his throat and beneath where Taehyung presses his thumb.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll kill you. Even if you’re my oldest friend.”

It’s an unnecessary threat, and Taehyung rolls his eyes at it. There is a slight quirk to his lips, and Jimin sees the kiss coming before Taehyung even ducks his head.

He wrestles Taehyung off until there is a smile stretching over his lips, breaking into his cheeks. A deep chuckle sounds from him, and Jimin’s feeling better. A little less afraid, a little more confident.

It’s been easy learning to mask his fear, to use his strength to overcome it when he thinks about Jia and Taehyung. They’ve always been his strength, and fear stands no chance when it comes to protecting them.

“I’ll miss you too, Tae. Remember, Jia might come to my room in the night. You might want to sleep in there instead of your room. Also, you know she needs the night light and -”

Taehyung softens, capturing Jimin’s hands and holding them to his chest. “Hey, you’re acting like I haven’t raised her too. She’ll be fine with me, better than anyone else.”

Jimin lets out a long exhale. He isn’t really that nervous about the assignment, it was his idea after all, but he is nervous about leaving Jia for too long. “If something happens to her or she gets too upset, you have to find a way to get in touch with me. You and Joon. You’re good at that shit.”

Moving their hands, Taehyung presses his pinky to Jimin’s until Jimin curls it back. “I promise. You call me when you can. You got this.”

The Jeon House is located outside of Seoul, in the mountains of Gyeonggi-do. The gate surrounding the property is intimidatingly high, and Jimin can not see anything at the top of them, but he knows there are small spikes there that are sharp enough to break skin. There are only two guards by the door, who don’t even ask his name before letting him in.

The night feels eerie but Jimin knows that’s his fear. He isn’t afraid of the guards that assess him and pat him down the moment he steps into the actual house. He is strong, could take on three men at a time if he had to. But there are many more than three, the house loaded with men standing guard, their eyes following his every movement.

It’s surprising to him that a man with Jungkook’s reputation would have so many guards in his home. It makes him look weak, though Jimin dares any man to call him that. Even his own father is afraid of Jungkook, a man who has been born and bred in the gang life for much longer than Jungkook.

The house is both what Jimin suspects and doesn’t at the same time. The entranceway is large and empty, save for the bodyguards. There is no decoration, none of those paintings hanging on the wall that no one actually likes to look at. He’s stopped from taking his shoes off, and Jimin is grateful. He didn’t wear socks just in case he had to run and fight as the floor is as shiny and slippery as Jimin expected it to be.

“This way.”

They don’t head up the massively wide staircase in the middle of the entranceway, but instead behind it. The hallway is made of glass windows on one side, looking out to the backyard that Jimin can’t make out in the dark. He knows what it looks like from when he cased the joint. Large field, a pool house, a tennis court, basketball court. There’s a golf court resort about a half mile off property that Jungkook’s father owns.

The house screams wealth from the outside and loneliness from the inside.

“You can take your shoes off here,” the guard says, turning and pointing to the sets of shoes lining the hallway. Jimin obliges, turning his back to the glass window as he quickly unties his boots.

If the guard thinks his lack of socks is strange, he doesn’t mention it. He seems bored, fingers idly playing with the gun at his hip as he waits for Jimin to remove his shoes. 

“Here you go, Seok.”

The guard gestures to a man that stands where the corridor hooks to the right. Just a glimpse and Jimin can see more signs of living than earlier. There are pictures on the walls but he can’t make them out. 

The new guard is more important than the rest of the goonies that Jimin has passed. He can tell by the diamonds wrapped around the man’s dainty wrists, sparkling over the shell of his ear. The suits he wears is designer, all black with a rich, deep red silk shirt beneath. It’s unbuttoned, revealing the Jeon sigil right below the hollow point between his collar bones. 

Jung Hoseok. Twenty three. His family has been serving the Jeons for generations. Posed as bodyguards, secretaries, even nannies. He’s skilled in Muay Thai, known as the art of eight limbs and Hoseok the Man of Eight Hands. The nickname that was given to him because of his fighting style.

Not just the Muay Thai, but Hoseok is known to carry a sling and spears on him. Jimin had laughed when that was first explained to him. In the midst of guns and knives, it feels archaic. But some of his men have seen it with their own eyes, the quick way Hoseok attacks from all angles and directions.

It’s effective, more so than guns and knives, maybe.

“Arms out.”

He’s already been patted down but Jimin doesn’t mention it. Hoseok’s eyes are heavy and droopy in a lustful kind of way, dark in the dim lighting. He holds Jimin’s gaze before he starts, his fingers much more gentle than the other’s. His whole posture is much more relaxed than the rest of the guards that Jimin has seen so far. 

“Stop trying to feel up the newbie,” a voice says from behind him. Jimin tries not to tense, feeling caged in. He doesn’t look to see who it is either, but focuses on the smirk that touches the lips of the man patting him down.

“S’cute,” Hoseok says with a shrug before he stands. He cocks his head to the side, licking at his lips. “What’s your name?”

“Jimin,” Jimin says. “Jeo Jimin.”

Hoseok nods, holding a hand out. His fingers are long and knobby, the veins popping out over the top like vines. “Hoseok. If you don’t get the job, I can find something else for you to do.”

Jimin snorts at that, taking the man’s hand. He knows he’s attractive, he’s had enough harassment over his life to know this. Something about power getting into the minds of men and making them think they can have any beautiful thing they want.

But people underestimate beauty. They focus on the parts of him that are dainty, soft, taking them to mean that Jimin can't kick their ass without breaking a sweat. 

“I’ll keep that in mind. You’re not so bad yourself.”

Namjoon usually rolls his eyes at his flirting before he scolds him, lectures him about putting himself in danger. But men are weak; easily giving in to simple things like fluttering eyelashes and teasing touches. Taehyung always supports him, finds it amusing.

Hoseok grins, moving aside. He cups a hand to his hip, where Jimin sees the sling he’s heard stories about nestled in the band of his pants. It isn’t a threat of any sort, as Hoseok makes no move to actually touch it and his eyes dazzle when they drag over the length of him. “Off you go, Jeo. S’clear!”

Nerves lurch themself into Jimin’s throat as he makes his way down the hallway. Hoseok moves quietly but Jimin knows he is still behind him. Someone else too. As many guards as there are inside the entranceway, there are fewer in the corridor where Jungkook resides. 

“Jungkook-ssi spends a lot of his time here,” Hoseok explains as they walk. Jimin counts one camera tucked over a portrait of the sea. There are no doors or windows. The short staircase Hoseok leads him up has shelves built into the walls around it, and Jimin suspects another camera is probably hidden amongst the books stacked there.

“Here or his Kill Room ,” Hoseok says, looking at Jimin from the corner of his eye. Jimin doesn’t react though he wants to roll his eyes that it’s actually called that. 

“Is that the actual name of it?”

Hoseok nods. The hallway leads to a den that Jimin can see from the top of the short staircase. “Yeah, you’ll see. If you get the job, you’ll be spending a lot of time in there.”

The first sight of Jungkook has Jimin’s stomach tumbling. He looks just as intimidating as Jimin remembers, his face scrunched in anger and jaw tight. He pretends to be unaware of their presence, focused on the computer in front of him where he sits at a grand, wooden desk. 

Just a few weeks ago, Jungkook had killed a man for wasting his time. For being useless, were the rumors. Jimin isn’t useless but he has to make sure to keep Jungkook’s attention and assure him of this.

Jungkook is a man, and Jimin knows how to work men. 

As they step in front of the entrance, Hoseok closes his arms around his back but doesn’t interrupt. He stays quiet as Jungkook smiles, a sick twist of the lips as a quiet wail sounds from his computer.

Jimin tries not to shutter. He partakes in violence himself but there’s something disturbing about the men who enjoy it, who get off on it. And Jungkook looks pleased, eyes full of delight.

His hair is slicked back, perfectly styled and patted down the side. His earlobes are stretched, small plugs inside with pink diamonds glittering from them. It’s the only color in his attire; a black, v-cut tee beneath a black leather jacket. 

There aren’t many pictures of Jungkook. Not many have seen his face. Jimin is one of the lucky few, if luck is the right word. But even if he hadn’t, Jimin would be able to know who he is by the striking resemblance to old man Jeon.

“Jungkook-ssi,” Hoseok finally says, causing Jungkook to slowly lift his head. He seems too interested in the computer, his smile growing. “This is Jeo Jimin. Came to protect your sorry ass.”

Even if Hoseok and Jungkook are close, Jimin is surprised by the lack of respect. 

Jungkook’s eyes flit over Jimin, and Jimin remains still, passive so he won’t see his fear before he bows.

“Mr. Jeon, sir.”

Jungkook snorts, eyes narrowing. “Jungkook is fine. Sit.”

Jimin does, trying not to sink too far in the overly plush chair across from Jungkook. When Jungkook looks away, he lets his eyes flit around. There’s nothing telling around him, everything about the den plain. Expensive, but plain. The trinkets on the shelves are common decorations; vases and photographs of different scenes of nature. Even his desk is empty save for the laptop.

The windows don’t open, but there is a sliding door that leads to an outdoor patio. It’s currently covered in long plain drapes that add to the boring decor. 

There’s a camera in the corner of the room, hidden above one of the bookshelves. It is smaller than Jimin’s fist, and Jimin doesn’t let his eyes linger for even a second. There are no weapons that Jimin can see, but the pen sitting on the desk could easily break through his skin if Jungkook were angry enough. The vases behind him could be heavier than they look.

In his notes, there is no information on Jungkook’s weapon of choice. There is a rumor Jungkook has used an ax before, but Jimin doesn’t think he could hide one behind the desk. He doesn’t look like the type to swing out an ax either, but Jimin wouldn’t be surprised with a man behind him that has a sling at his waist instead of a gun.

“You have a lovely home, Jungkook-ssi.”

Jungkook grunts without looking up at him. He leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest with his eyes still trained on the computer. Someone - Hoseok, he thinks, clears his throat behind them and either Jungkook is ignoring him or doesn’t hear him.

There’s warmth growing at Jimin’s neck as he sits there. Jungkook’s smile fills his face, makes his cheeks bunch and his eyes tiny crescents. His laughter sounds more like a cackle before it does when Jungkook looks over his computer.

“Just one second,” Jungkook says, leaning over. He doesn’t seem to care if Jimin sees his laxed pose. Unlike Jimin, when he meets a new recruit he likes to come off as intimidating as possible. “Jimin-ssi, do you like cats?”

Nausea roommates with the fear inside of him as Jungkook starts to turn the computer. He can stomach a human being hurt, but he’s never been able to handle abuse to animals. Or children. They’re both too innocent.

There was a man who worked for his father that got off on it. The worst kind of human. 

Jimin had him killed.

“Um, yes sir.”

There’s that delight in Jungkook’s eyes again. His age is unknown, but Jimin would guess him to be on the younger side of their estimate. Perhaps twenty. The excitement in his eyes only makes him look younger, like a child. “Look at this.”

It’s hard to hide the tension in his body, to force his eyes to focus on the screen. He needs to do this for Jia. He pictures her face easily, the way her giggles grow high pitched when she’s overjoyed. The way she runs whenever Taehyung comes over and begs for him to fly her around their apartment. The way she tucks her face into Jimin’s neck when she’s tired, her hands tiny fists that she always holds on her chest when she sleeps.

It relaxes him, thinking of her. He should have known the first three seconds in Jungkook’s presence would be this unpleasant. Jungkook is vibrating with excitement to show him whatever is playing on his computer screen, so Jimin swallows down the bile in his throat and forces himself to look. 

Jimin frowns when he hears the squeak and focuses on the kitten in the video. Their paws pat over a surface before it tumbles over to the side.

Jungkook leans around the computer, watching the video with that sick twist of a grin. It takes Jimin to realize it isn’t actually sick or twisted as Jungkook lets out a giggle. An actual giggle.

What the fuck.

His nose scrunches up towards the bridge, his eyes squinting in delight. He looks much younger for a moment, his giggles sharp and joyful.

“Watch this one,” Jungkook says, still laughing as he moves over the keypad and rewinds the video.

It’s another kitten, this time patting over to the large paw of a pitbull. It taps on the dog’s paw before falling over it and falling asleep. The dog doesn’t move for a moment before it gently lies it’s head beside the kitten.

Jungkook makes another sound of delight, turning the computer back around. His eyes are bright with it, his smile resembling the way one’s mouth looks when they’re sneering rather than stretching into a smile.

“Fucking love cats,” Jungkook says as he closes the laptop. “I have four. You’d be expected to transport them when I travel. Carefully. Don’t jostle their cages too much.”

Jimin clears his throat, confused and trying not to show it. The way Jungkook goes from giggling to business, if traveling cats can be considered business, is quick. Delight still clings to his features, but it’s softer now that the cat videos are out of the way. “I can do that, sir.”

Opening his desk drawer, Jungkook pulls out a stack of papers and folders. He opens the top one first, sliding it across the desk to Jimin.

It’s the cats. All four much too fat and fluffy. Orange, calico, black and white, and the last one short and stubby, a gray color with the widest doe eyes Jimin has ever seen.

“The instructions on what they like are in there.”

“Am I?” Jimin hesitates. Jungkook’s easygoing nature could be a ploy for Jimin to let his defenses down. Maybe the man likes to play with his employees. Maybe he’s inherited his father’s favor for punishing men. Maybe he’s like Jimin and uses other people’s perception of himself as a mask. “I was under the impression this job was to protect you, sir. Not cats.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrow, jaw tensing. There’s a snort of amusement behind him. The childish innocence that had surprised Jimin is gone. “You will be protecting me but you must familiarize yourself with my cats. They are with me at all times. Usually.”

Jimin relaxes, nodding. “I apologize sir.”

Rolling his eyes in a way that looks painful, Jungkook groans loudly in complaint. “Please stop calling me that. It’s Jungkook. Kookie if you’re Seokie, Koo if you’re Yoongi. Jungkook if you’re you.”

He practically whines it. His eyes widen like a doe, a plea loud in them until Jimin nods in understanding.

“Okay, Jungkook-ssi. Would you like any of my credentials?”

Jungkook holds his gaze for a moment before he plants his elbows to his desk and folds his hands beneath his chin. There are expensive looking, bulky rings on his fingers and thin, delicate ones wrapped around his thumbs. The watch around his wrist costs more than anything Jimin owns, and he is quite wealthy himself.

“Do you play video games, Jimin-ssi?”

“Yes,” Jimin replies with a moment of hesitation.

Everything he had planned with wooing Jungkook over is going out the window.

“What games?”

Jimin is thankful for the height of the desk as he rubs his hands over his thighs. He is usually too busy working and taking care of Jia to play, but he does enjoy them. He listens to Taehyung talk about them more than anything. Like the night before, when they sat together and he just watched Taehyung play. That’s how they spend a lot of their time together when they actually spend time together.

“League of Legends. FIFA. Overwatch. Fortnite. You name it, and I’ve probably played it.”

Jungkook looks delighted, even clapping his hands once together in front of himself. “Good. Good. Hopefully you’re good. Hyung fucking sucks and it’s a bore to play him. I have people online I play with, but I can’t quite talk to them about anything other than the game.”

He stands then, wrinkling his nose and back bending backwards some as he snickers at Hoseok and the other guard behind them.

Jimin almost snickers himself as he watches Jungkook stand, revealing that beneath his leather jacket attire he’s wearing dark blue shorts. They’re tiny, stopping half way down his thigh and revealing thick, tense muscles. He had considered Jungkook to be strapped with a weapon where Jimin couldn’t see, but he doubts it now. His shorts do little to hide anything, let alone a gun.

“Alright, Jeon. I am better at you in every aspect.” Hoseok says, his tone cocky.

“Ha! You’re a better shit stain, that’s what you are, Jung.”

Hoseok laughs sarcastically. “You just called yourself a shittier shit stain, Kook.”

Jimin is confused and unsure how to react. Does he laugh along as well? Is Jungkook testing him? 

Jungkook glares at Hoseok, body tensing. He flings his finger into the air, flipping Hoseok off. “Fuck you, that’s not what I meant.”

His face grows red as Hoseok lets out a loud cackle in response. The longer and louder Hoseok laughs, the more Jungkook grows red and amused looking.

Like a habit, Jungkook pulls down his shorts as he laughs but he suddenly stops, eyes going wide before he drops. He drops so quickly into his seat that Jimin’s heart jumps in his chest like something has happened to him.

“You weren’t supposed to see those,” Jungkook supplies, cheeks burning now. “I didn’t want to get dressed.”

Jimin snorts, he can’t help it. Jungkook doesn’t look offended. Instead, he is glancing at a cackling Hoseok again with a warning look in his eyes. “They’re cute.”

The red is trickling down to Jungkook’s neck now. Jimin expected it to take more to fluster him, and he’s pleased to find out it isn’t.

And flustered he is, laughing awkwardly and tucking his burning cheeks towards his shoulder. His finger rubs over a strand of hair on the side of his head before he shoves it behind his ear. “Right. Anyway, back to business.”

Jungkook clears his throat and it’s quick how his face changes from flustered to serious, intimidating. Jimin keeps his teasing grin on his lips, liking the way Jungkook’s eyes continue to flicker towards it.

“You know who I am? Who my father is?”

Jeon Jungkook, son of the second most dangerous man in South Korea. Jeon Yunbok. Somewhere around eighteen to twenty five years old as the rumors say, hidden most of his life before the stories started coming out five years ago. 

“I do.”

Jimin opens his lips to speak, but Hoseok behind him does instead. There is still amusement in his voice, but the laughter has stopped. 

“Jimin-ssi worked under the ranks of Park Jaegyu. Low level. Protected the son of one of Park’s runners. Kim Taehyung.”

The mention of Taehyung’s name makes the hair on his neck stand up. He thought he was prepared for it, but he hates it. 

Taehyung’s father isn’t as low level as Taehyung is, but his name is just as hidden. It could be potentially very dangerous to give Taehyung or his father’s name away to anyone that isn’t allied with them.

And now he’s giving it to Yunbok’s son, second in rank Neugdae Paeg. Enemy of Park Jaegyu.

They’ve signed a peace agreement, but there’s too much history to trust it. Jimin knows for a fact Jaegyu doesn’t, that Jaegyu is already striking the Neugdae Paeg in every discreet way he can until he can attack them from all angles at one time, completely wiping them out.

He’s been hijacking the Neugdae Paeg’s shipments, has runners that claim to work beneath the Jeons and push contaminated drugs in their name. They even have Namjoon working to hack into their business accounts, the ones they launder their money through. Whether it’s to steal it or not, Jimin doesn’t know. He wouldn’t put it past Jaegyu, who has always been a greedy bitch when it comes to money.

“Can you tell us the reason a low level runner needed protection, Jimin-ssi?”

Jimin shifts, holding Jungkook’s gaze despite him not asking the question.

“I don’t reveal client information, even after I’ve finished working for them. All I can say is he is irrelevant to Park Jaegyu. I worked for him alone, not Jaegyu. I have no loyalty to the Saja.”

It isn’t even a lie. There are only four people Jimin is loyal too, and none of them are Jaegyu or the Saja.

Jungkook nods to that before looking to Hoseok.

Jimin wonders if he should turn to Hoseok as he seems to take over the interview, stepping across the den as he asks questions. His feet don’t make a sound but Jimin is trained, knows he’s moving.

He isn’t surprised when Hoseok is suddenly beside him, hand gripping over his shoulder. He doesn’t flinch, and Hoseok hums in approval. 

“Old man Jeon is paranoid the Saja is going to turn against the peace treaty they have, strike against the Jeon family, backtrack on the arranged marriage. Which is understandable. Jaegyu represents the Saja, and he’s never been a man of his word.”

It’s exactly what’s going to happen but Jimin doesn’t say a word. Even if Jaegyu plans on going through with the arranged marriage, it isn’t going to happen.

“Arranged marriage?” Jimin asks. Not working for Jaegyu means he shouldn’t know anything about the treaty or the arranged marriage. Hell, half of the Saja doesn’t even know about it.

Hoseok nods but doesn’t explain further. Jungkook wiggles his head back and forth, jaw working. His eyes look distant where they stare off past them. “Jeon and Park are supposed to be working towards a partnership, join forces. But Park is making moves to go against this.”

“That would cause a war,” Jimin says, eyes leveling back to Jungkook. He’s still not paying attention. His head is no longer wiggling, but his eyes are still diverted to somewhere else as he now plays with the plug in his ear lobe.

“I know,” Hoseok says, plopping himself on the edge of the desk. “We’re upping the security around Jungkook because we know Park is planning something and his target is on Jungkook’s back. We need you with him twenty four seven. Every moment of every day.”

Jungkook looks to Jimin then, seems to resurface as he nods his head in agreement.

“And my cats.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes, but his back is facing Jungkook so he can’t see. Jimin doesn’t tattle on him by smiling.

“And the cats,” Hoseok says. “You got a family, Jeo?”

Jimin shakes his head, lying. 

“Good shit. This isn’t like working with some low level runner. Jungkook’s at the top of the chain, right beneath Old Man Jeon. It’s a lot more dangerous.”

“I understand,” Jimin says. “You’ll find not much scares me, Hoseok-ssi.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into a grin. “You ever kill a man?”

Jungkook’s focus is fully on him now. Jimin nods. “A few.”

Twelve. Jimin remembers every single one of them too. Their names, their faces. 

“What’s your weapon of choice?”

“Knives,” Jimin replies. “Though, I’m comfortable with a pistol.”

“I like axes,” Jungkook says. “Really packs a punch.”

Jimin knows his eyes are widening in surprise. He thought that would be one rumor that wasn’t true. “Axes, sir?”

Jungkook nods as he cups his hands together and swings his arms to mimic swinging one. “Swoosh. Dead.”

“Shut up,” Hoseok laughs. “This is my baby.”

He keeps his eyes on Hoseok as Hoseok pulls out his sling and a metal ball from his pocket. The surface of the ball is jagged and spiked. Hoseok plants it into the pouch before he lifts, and Jimin keeps his chin tilted high even when the sling first levels at him.

Hoseok lets go of the pouch when the slingshot is leveled over Jimin’s shoulder instead. There is a whistling sound in his ear before something clatters to the ground behind him.

It’s a tiny statue that was on a shelf. A white wolf that now lies shattered on the ground.

“I love this thing,” Hoseok says. “And ignore Jungkook, he isn’t swinging axes around. He’s just a moron.”

Jungkook swats Hoseok in the shoulder, pairing the move with a soft 'hiyah'.

“Speak to me with respect," Jungkook grunts, glowering at his guard.

“I’m speaking to Jimin,” Hoseok shoots back. “We’ll give you a tour of the house, go over the shit you need to know first. Do you know how to fight? I need a fighting partner. Jungkook sucks to spar with.”

When Hoseok stands, the confusion fills Jimin again. “I mean, yeah. Yeah. I can fight. But, that’s it? I - I assumed there would be more since Jungkook’s safety is so important.”

Hoseok plants his hand to his hips, grinning at Jungkook. “It is. We’re still looking into you, going over your credentials. But Jungkook here picked you himself, and there’s no arguing with the boss.”

Jimin’s flaunts a grin to Jungkook. So far, the one that seems the most in charge is Hoseok, not Jungkook. “Is that so?”

The boss in question’s cheeks are so red, and he narrows his eyes at Hoseok, lip curling upwards.

It makes Hoseok laugh loudly as he reaches out, hand brushing Jimin’s elbow but not gripping down. “Come with me, Jeo.”

The rest of Jungkook’s house is as bland as the entrance. There are too many bedrooms, and Jimin finds himself wondering how many people live here. Too many windows and doors, too many places for people to hide. It isn’t a smart decision, but the house is expensive, a show of the Jeon fortune. 

Most of the rooms are empty save for furniture. There aren’t cameras in these ones, but there are enough in the hallways. It’s still not a good idea for security, and Jimin suggests as much when Hoseok pushes the door open to another empty room.

“How many people live here?”

Hoseok takes a minute to think. “Jungkook and a few of the guards, including myself. There are a few people who come and go, who have their own rooms. Jungkook’s mother, for example, prefers the guest room down at the end of the hall. Jungkook doesn’t let anyone else use it.”

Jimin glances around the empty room they’re in. The window is thin, stretching across the wall. Thin enough that it would be very difficult for someone to climb through, but not too small for a bullet or a fist. “There aren’t enough cameras.”

“I know,” Hoseok says as he closes the door. “Jungkook wants all of them gone. If we can’t hide them from him, we can’t put them up or he gets all shitty.” 

The one in Jungkook’s den was quite obvious. It was barely hidden, but Jimin doesn’t mention it. 

Jungkook’s bedroom is the only one that has some life in it. Life as in two cats curled around each other in the middle of the bed. The orange tabby and the black and white one, forming the shape of a circle with their bodies.

“B-boy and Broheim,” Hoseok says as he walks around the room and opens the thick curtains. His bedroom overlooks the backyard. 

“What?”

“The cats,” Hoseok says, gesturing towards them. There isn’t much in the room besides that. A cupboard, a nightstand, a desk. There are two doors, one for a bathroom and one for a closet Jimin assumes. Jimin was half expecting an ax to be beside Jungkook’s bed. “B-boy is the black and white one. Broheim orange.”

Jimin wrinkles his nose, holding the folder Jungkook had thrust into his hands before he left him in the office. Broheim is on the first page, his name on the top. There’s a picture of him in the middle, curled up in the sunlight.

The warning ‘do not touch unless he approaches first’ is underlined beneath the photograph.

The other two cats are Chihiro and Gabumon, and Jimin wonders if he’s going to stop smiling. Their names are cute, and Taehyung would get a kick out of Gabumon. 

“Jungkook doesn’t sleep much,” Hoseok says as he reaches over the bed and pets B-boy. His hand instantly moving away when Broheim lifts his head and stares down Hoseok. “You won’t find him in here often, but your bedroom is next door just in case. Are you a light sleeper?”

“I am,” Jimin replies. A few hours a night is really all he gets and needs. And even then, he wakes often to listen for his sister. She is just as restless as him. 

“You didn’t bring anything with you?” Hoseok asks as he walks past him and back into the corridor.

“No. I didn’t think I would be hired so quickly,” Jimin confesses. He had rented a motel nearby and is thankful if he can start tonight because the bed definitely looked like it hasn’t had clean sheets on it in about ten months. 

“Jungkook was really enthusiastic about hiring you,” Hoseok laughs, pushing open another door.

It is smaller than Jungkook’s room but just as nice. There is a bed made up in the middle, the comforter plush and pillowy, covered in bright yellow sunflowers. There are sunflowers on the nightstand beside the bed too.

Jimin touches over the comforter before exploring. He feels more comfortable touching things in here than he did in Jungkook’s.

The closet is quite large, nearly as big as the bedroom, and there are already things inside of it. Some accessories, jewelry. A few polos that when Jimin pulls back, he sees Jeon’s Golf Resort printed on the chest.

Their coverup for why there are so many fucking people here, probably.

There is no camera that Jimin can see, and he doesn’t hide the way he looks for it. The window is the same as the other rooms, thin and stretching across the length of the wall. He fingers the base, looking for where it opens and finding only a small section of it does. 

“There is no camera in here either,” Jimin says as he searches around. He’ll have to look better once he’s alone. He doesn’t mind if there isn’t one, he wants the privacy, but they could have just hidden it better than the others.

“Jungkook took it out,” Hoseok says, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m telling you, he really hates them.”

There are three locks on the door that Jimin touches. Bolt locks, old fashioned. “Is there a security alarm system?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “No. Jungkook kept setting it off.”

Jimin smiles at that. Taehyung does that too. He always forgets about them until the house is blaring with alarms just because he wanted fast food in the middle of the night. “Hence the guards.”

“Hence the guards,” Hoseok agrees as he opens the door across from the closet. “These doors don’t lock, so you have access to Jeon at all times.”

It’s a bathroom. A large bathroom. He walks past the toilet, hidden beneath a wall beside the vanity and close to the door. There’s a massive shower at one side, the glass walls allowing Jimin to see the multiple shower heads and seats inside.

A jacuzzi tub on the other side, a rod above it with a curtain hanging over it for privacy.

The vanity stretches along the wall, two sinks beneath the counter to ceiling mirror. Jimin eyes over the beauty products on one side and then at the door across from him.

“We share a bathroom.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok says, crossing his arms as he leans into the doorway of the bathroom. “You can get to Jungkook this way if you need to. But there are two other bathrooms on this floor so you don’t actually have to use it. Though, I warn you. Jungkook said he didn’t want to get dressed earlier and you’re going to see that’s often very true.”

Jimin grins at the twist of disgust on Hoseok’s face. 

He finds Hoseok is easy to be around. He talks often, makes jokes. He laughs easily as well and reminds Jimin of Taehyung. 

It’s only been a little over a day, and Jimin misses him and Jia.

“Your grades are impressive,” Hoseok says, as he opens the door to a balcony. The room they’ve walked through seems like another den, but just as empty. “Jungkook acts like an idiot, but he’s smart as fuck. You’ll see. His memory is amazing, so if you’re lying about anything, remember what the hell it is.”

Jimin lets his eyes lazily look over to Hoseok. He doesn’t try to prove that he isn’t lying about anything. His grades were a lie, though. Jimin is intelligent, but he had found the records of another Jeo Jimin that had gone to public school. Jimin can’t quite tell he was homeschooled or it’ll bring up questions about how a man from a poor family could afford a private tutor. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Hoseok smiles with his lips pressed together, cheeks puffing out and up towards his nose. “Come on, now I’ll show you the kitchen. If you randomly lose Jungkook in the middle of the night, he’ll be found there.”

The tour takes an hour and ends up in Jungkook’s office again. Jungkook isn’t there anymore, his laptop still resting on the desk. Hoseok sits where he had been, a sign of disrespect in Jimin’s own crew, but he’s already found here that the dynamics here are different.

“Min Yoongi,” Hoseok says, holding up a photo of a man with burgundy hair. It hangs low over his forehead, nearly hiding his eyes. Jimin recognizes him but he takes the picture to pretend to look it over instead. “Jungkook’s right hand man. Grew up together. Has access to Jungkook at all times and anywhere he resides. He comes through here and there but he does most of the grime work. The interrogations, shit like that. Has his own gang of runners, all of them brutal as fuck.”

Jimin nods as he listens, waiting for Hoseok to tell him something he doesn’t know. Min Yoongi, known on the streets as many different names. The Wolf’s Tiger, a term that is intended to be disrespected but he’s embraced it. Suga, a name he had when he first started running the streets and pushing packets of white for Jeon. Red, because of his hair and the crimson constantly stained to his knuckles. His weapon of choice, his fists paired with brass knuckles or bagh naka , but he won’t hesitate to use the knives he has tucked in various parts of his body.

It makes Jimin thinks he likes to be up close and personal when he fights. As sadistic as Jungkook. 

“Kim Seokjin,” Hoseok goes on, holding up another photo. This is a man that Jimin doesn’t recognize but knows of. He stands out with his bubblegum pink hair. “Works behind the scenes. You’ll find him here often, usually here in this office. He technically runs the Resort so he’s always around. Basically, in charge of everything money.”

Everything money . He launders it through the Resort. Not a fact that Jimin knows, only suspects. It would be stupid if they didn’t. 

“Jungkook gets testy with him,” Hoseok explains, handing the photo to Jimin. He’s been the hardest member of Jungkook’s inner crew to get information on. Jimin suspects he has something to do with sealing off all information on Jungkook, and that he’s whoever is making Namjoon’s life hell when it comes to hacking into the Neugdae Paeg’s accounts. 

Maybe even the hacker that broke into the Saja system a few years back. Jimin hopes not for Seokjin’s sake because it was then that the Neugdae Pae learned of Jaegyu’s daughters.

One of Jimin’s biggest habits is holding grudges. He needs revenge like he needs oxygen.

“Then there’s me, Jung Hoseok,” Hoseok greets, a big smile taking over his lips. His cheeks round and tiny dimples appear when he presses his lips together. “Jungkook can’t survive without me. I’m his head guard but there’s a list of other shit I do too. The three of us don’t need to be pat down when we approach Kook, but everyone else does, got it?”

Jimin nods, taking the photo Hoseok hands of himself. While the other two were taken from distances and not very flattering, Hoseok’s is a selfie. He smiles, a peace sign near his eyes.

It’s cute.

“You’ll be expected to accompany Jungkook to his father’s and any meetings,” Hoseok goes on. “Old Man Jeon is different. Guards stay hidden, quiet. You can feel free to speak as you please here, Jungkook would hate it if you were silent all of the time. But not at the Jeon’s house. Stay in the shadows.”

Jimin scribbles this down and everything else Hoseok instructs him to do. It seems to take hours and if Jimin wasn’t on high alert, his adrenaline up from being in Jungkook’s house, he’d be exhausted.

Jungkook returns after awhile but Hoseok doesn’t move from where he sits. From the corner of his eye, he watches Jungkook slump on the leather couch on the side.

He flails a hand over his forehead and groans loudly.

Hoseok doesn’t look at him but Jungkook peers at him from the corner of his eye before doing it again. It’s more dramatic the second time the way Jungkook lets out a pained groan that sounds genuine.

Jimin bites his cheek, trying not to smile as Jungkook wails in pain and looks to Hoseok, but Hoseok ignores him.

“He does that sometimes,” Hoseok says as he passes a piece of paper to Jimin for him to sign. A confidentiality agreement. “He is fine.”

“I am not,” Jungkook groans. He’s no longer in his leather jacket, but the blue shorts remain. He stretches his legs wide as he complains, and Jimin darts his eyes away from how high they rise up his thighs. His very soft, yet thick and muscled thighs. “I’m so fucking bored, hyung.”

Hoseok sighs, planting his hands to the desk as he finally looks to Jungkook. Jungkook rips his eyes away from where he was watching to see if Hoseok would pay attention to him. He looks up at the ceiling again, groaning low.

“You’re embarrassing yourself in front of the new hire,” Hoseok says, but he sounds fond. “Would you let him believe he’s working for the baddest boss in all of Asia for a few days at least?”

Jungkook sits up, palms brushing down his black shirt. He steadies a hard gaze on Jimin, jaw locking. Jimin holds onto it, refusing to break it.

It feels impossible for him to go to a dramatic, whining mess, to looking like a murderer. But he does. Jimin’s fear was starting to decrease as Jungkook whined, but it’s suddenly back and full force.

“If you don’t give me attention, I will pull your fingernails off.” 

As scary as his face looks, his tone is seriously lacking. Jungkook sighs, shoulders slumping. “I can’t do it.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “We’ll work on it Kookie. We’ll make you into a badass.”

Jimin hands over the agreement when he’s signed everything, and Hoseok looks over it. Jungkook is still watching them, and Jimin plants an elbow to the arm of the chair so he can fold a hand beneath his chin and flash a grin towards him.

It’s quick, how Jungkook’s cheeks redden. His eyes are slightly wide as they land on Jimin’s mouth, distant before he smiles too.

It isn’t the nose scrunch smile, but something softer.

Whoever said Jungkook was terrifying didn’t see him in his home, clearly.

But Jimin knows better than to ignore his gut feeling. And his gut feeling tells him Jungkook is as good as Jimin is as playing others. This could be a show so Jimin will let his guard down or maybe he’s this way with his inner crew, but vile towards anyone else.

“Can we play now?” Jungkook asks, nibbling on his bottom lip. He fidgets with his earring a lot, Jimin has noticed, but it doesn’t seem to be out of nerves. Most people’s fidgeting is a tell. “Hyung bought me this zombie game I haven’t tried yet.”

Hoseok stands, paperwork in his hands. “That’s all you Jimin-ssi. We can get your things from the motel tomorrow. I’ll have one of the staff here bring you something to wear for tonight.”

Jimin nods. Everything has happened quickly and Jimin wasn’t expecting to be alone with Jungkook so soon.

But he is as Hoseok walks out of the room and closes the door behind him. Well, almost alone, as the stubby gray cat from the folder plants her tiny paws to Jungkook’s calf until he picks her up.

She’s small in Jungkook’s lap and easily turns over, letting Jungkook’s fingers rub over her belly. The camera Jimin had noticed earlier catches his attention again, and he stares up at it confusion. It really is obviously placed, hard for anyone to miss. 

“You can go to bed,” Jungkook says as Jimin pulls his eyes away from the camera. “It’s quite late.”

Jimin shakes his head. “I’m supposed to be by your side at all times.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook looks like a petulant child. “Well, I don’t sleep a lot so sorry in advance.”

He looks genuinely apologetic, and Jimin doesn’t know what to make of it. 

“No need to apologize, Jungkook-ssi. I don’t sleep often myself.”

Jungkook sighs as he leans back against the couch. He shucks his fingers through his hair and shakes it out, making it stick up around his head. “We’ll make it our mission then. Find a way to sleep together.”

Jimin raises a brow, amusement filling him. “Is that so?”

Jungkook looks at him, his face blank for a moment before his eyes fly open. He barks out a laugh that sounds a bit crazed. “Ha. No. I mean, together we will find a way to sleep. Individually. In the original meaning of ‘sleep’. Close your eyes and dream.”

His amusement grows the more flustered Jungkook becomes. He even stands up, lifting the cat to cradle it into his arms. “Shut up.”

Jimin keeps his lips pressed closed as if to say he didn’t say anything. Jungkook glares harder. 

Nerves spark inside of him when Jungkook approaches. He straightens where he had been leaning casually in his chair. 

The flinch is a habit when Jungkook reaches out, but Jimin is still disappointed that he reacted. He only thinks about it for a second before Jungkook’s finger is pushing against his lips.

“Shut up,” Jungkook murmurs, peering his eyes even more. “You know what I meant.”

Jimin bows his head and remains quiet until Jungkook pulls his finger back. “Yes, sir. I understand.”

He is struggling to read Jungkook. It’s still the first night, and he seems to be okay with informalities and teasing. But he is quick to glare, and look pissed off. Even then, he doesn’t act it.

“Good,” Jungkook sighs. He brings the gray kitty closer to his face, clicking his tongue as it stretches in his arms.

“I hope we can find a way to sleep together soon.”

Jungkook stills. Embarrassment fills his features before his eyes closed and he makes a sound like he’s dying.