Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

There are a few things beauty school didn’t teach Jeongguk.

1. You’re going to fuck up. It’s inevitable.
2. Everyone will expect you to fuck up. This is also inevitable.
3. Never give out your personal number.

However, a few months into Jeongguk’s first job out of school, as an assistant under an accomplished stylist in a not-so-nice neighborhood, he thinks he might have to add one more thing to the list.

     4.  If there are three occupations that someone will spill their heart out to, it’s going to be: therapists, bartenders, and hairstylists.

“Honestly, it’s a little funny,” one of the other assistants laughs as they eat a quick lunch on the back steps. She’s nursing a bleach burn on a couple of her fingers, a bag of chips dangling from her other hand. Jeongguk had tentatively brought it up to her, unsure of whether he could even talk about it in the first place. He’s silent as she rambles, ripping into the sweets he had shoved into his bag the night before. The sugar would push him through the last three hours of his shift. “They tell you all this shit and just expect you not to say anything. I mean, of course, we’re not going to - who would we even tell? But you wouldn’t believe the things I hear.”

Jeongguk only hums, glancing up through his bangs. They’re green for now, but he’s already thinking about changing it in a few days. He gets bored too easily.

“You’ll learn to tune it out, don’t worry. Just,” she hesitates now, grimacing, “just don’t give them too much attention when they start talking about… y’know, less savory things.”

He pauses, then, a gummy bear squished between his teeth. “What?” He slurs, his brows scrunching.

“Oh, you know what I mean, don’t you? I know you haven’t been here long but like… you get it, right? What I mean?” She waves a hand, wincing as her tender fingers hit the stair railing.

And, yeah, Jeongguk figures. He does get it. It’s just been a few months since he graduated - about three since he started working here - and he’s heard… things. Their clientele is, well, sketchy at best. Outright criminal at worst. Not that you would be able to pin it at first glance- oh, no. They come in with gleaming cards and diamond-studded watches and wedding rings the size of river rocks and always leave with a smile and wave. They’re always so complimentary to Jeongguk, too. He can’t count how many times he’s been left an embarrassed puddle from an older woman complimenting his face, or his hair, or even the muscles he’s started working on in his free time. But that doesn’t change the things that come out of their mouths. 

“Oh, but it’s okay - my husband took care of it.”

“Don’t worry, he’s not a problem anymore.”

“We recently had a… company dispute that ended in our favor. My husband is taking us all overseas!”

Even the more obvious:

“Oh, I can’t make that weekend, what about the next? My husband is spending that night down at the docks for a deal, I need to be at home with the kids while he’s gone.”

Jeongguk lets out a slow breath, clenching the bag between his fingers. “Yeah,” he finally says, “I get it.”

There’s the buzz of one of their alarms going off inside and she sighs, pressing her palms to her knees to stand up. “I’ll get it - finish your break, ‘kay?” Jeongguk only nods and she gives him a smile, slipping back inside to the bustle and chatter of the salon on a Saturday night.

He stares down at the gummy bears in his hands, crinkling the package between his fingers. 'Just don’t give them too much attention’, huh?

****

It’s impossible. Jeongguk declares it so after only another week, throwing himself on his dingy couch.

How the fuck is he supposed to live knowing that the woman he had given a great blowout to was the daughter of a former kingpin and the wife of a man who was on death row? Or, that the little girl who had come in to her first haircut with her ‘father’? That was actually her brother - their parents dead from a gang dispute. Or, and Jeongguk thinks this is the kicker, his boss is actually casually seeing a man with more than a dozen misdemeanors on his record from his time as drug runner .

Jeongguk thinks cosmetology school should probably start adding in “How to Keep Your Mouth Shut to Avoid Getting Back Alley Shanked” in-between “Foiling 101” and “How to Not Make a Fool Out Of Yourself During A Consultation”.

He screams into the cushions.

It takes him entirely too long to push himself back up after that, his face numb from the fabric. His feet hurt, his hands hurt, his face hurts. Jeongguk scoffs to himself as he sways to his feet, tired hands rubbing over his eyes. Is this what he’s destined for? Long days and exhaustion and the mental battle of separating his morals from his work? He shuffles into his bathroom, squinting at the light as he stares at himself in the mirror.

Well, he rations. The girls in school weren’t too far from gang wives, he thinks. Catty. Petty. Always ready to swap secrets. Okay, maybe they didn’t like, actively participate in the destruction of people's lives but he’s witnessed them make more than one person cry in a break room and that’s gotta count for something, right? Right. He doesn’t let himself dig deeper into that. He doesn’t think he has the mental willpower for it.

He just needs to do what he did in school. Stay quiet. Smile and nod. Keep the important tidbits to himself for now because you never know when you might need the blackmail to save your grade. Life. Whatever he needs to save, now. Jeongguk’s face pinches. He’s already failing at this.

Stay quiet. Smile and nod. He repeats it to himself, ignoring the rest for now. He takes a shower, brushes his teeth, does his nightly skin routine - even throws on his extra comfy pajamas. He just needs to be the wallflower he’s paid to be. Learn from his mentor. Be quiet to the guests. Pay attention, but don’t bring attention to himself. He can do that. He doesn’t want to think about what’ll happen if he can’t.

****

“You know he won’t do that,” the woman in his chair complains into her phone, twisting her head like Jeongguk silently urges as he moves to add another foil. It folds easily beneath his fingers, laying neatly atop the others. “He’s too stubborn. He’ll only take money - no, baby, we’ve talked about this, remember? Just sweeten the pot a little, it’s okay.” Another foil, another fold. Jeongguk’s eyes dart to where her other hand is idly twisting a diamond-encrusted ring around her finger. Her thumb rolls it around and around, the overhead lights making it sparkle. “I’ll email it to her, don’t worry,” she assures and Jeongguk can hear a muffled response as he twists to dip his brush back into the bowl. “Okay, baby - love you too.” She hangs up the phone with a heavy sigh and an eye roll, catching Jeongguk’s eye in the mirror. He doesn’t have the time to get nervous when she cracks a smile. “Men, huh?” She says, and Jeongguk only flashes her a smile and offers a little laugh.

Men, he agrees.

The conversation takes a total one-eighty as she launches into a whole new topic, idly scrolling through her social media as they talk. He then sees her open up her banking app as he folds another foil and nearly gags at the number he sees, yanking his attention away. She taps at the screen for a moment and Jeongguk takes a slow breath through his nose.

Don’t give them any attention, he reminds himself. He takes a step back to clean his things and drains the last of his coffee. Just ignore them.

****

Jeongguk is covering the front desk when he comes in. Mr. Tall, Dark and Covered in Leather. The ‘handsome’ doesn’t even need to be said. His hair is unruly, an uneven violet that’s faded back to bleach blonde in spots, and there’s what could be a nearly healed bruise over the curve of his jaw, but Jeongguk can see even from a glance just how attractive he is.

The stranger’s lips curl into a smirk when he catches Jeongguk’s eye, a thick brow raising in curiosity. Jeongguk only turns, his cheeks burning as he pretends to busy himself with something on the desk. “Hello,” he says, his voice miraculously steady, “how can I help you?”

For a moment there’s only silence and Jeongguk peeks up between his lashes, seeing how the man leisurely leans forward, propping an elbow on the desk. The worn leather of his jacket stretches across his shoulders and Jeongguk can see a hint of skin through the nearly sheer cotton of his shirt. There’s a hint of a tattoo peeking from his shoulder, but Jeongguk can’t tell what it is.

“Oh,” the man’s voice is low and Jeongguk blinks slowly, “I’m sure we can think of something, can’t we?” The come-on almost doesn’t even register for a moment, and the man’s grin widens as he catches the exact moment it does. “Oh, that’s a cute face,” he says and Jeongguk sputters, nearly snapping the pen between his fingers in half.

“Sir, ” he starts, and the man only laughs. Jeongguk’s face feels like the seventh circle of hell. “Do you have an appointment?” He forces the words between his teeth, avoiding the man’s eyes like the plague.

“Oh, sure,” the stranger says casually, “you can tell Jihyun I’m here for her, but I think I’d much rather enjoy talking to you.”

Jeongguk turns on his heel. “I’ll tell her you’re here.”

There’s another bark of a laugh and then, “You might want my name,” he says and Jeongguk sucks over his teeth, his eyes rising to the ceiling. He turns over his shoulder and the man only winks, still lounging over the counter. “Taehyung,” he says with a flourish to himself. “I’m sure you’ll want it for later.”

It’s a shame, Jeongguk thinks, that hair shears have blunted tips.

“Miss Jihyun,” Jeongguk says as he approaches his mentor, “there’s someone at the desk that wants to talk to you?” He hesitates, waiting until she looks up from the perm she’s quickly rolling between her fingers. “His name is Taehyung?”

Her face pales under the bright light and she gives him a quick nod, turning back to the guest in her chair. The lady doesn’t even blink, focused on the way her fingers fly over her phone’s screen. There’s a pinch in her brow that makes Jeongguk fear for whoever is on the other end. “I will see him in a minute.”

“Should I go tell him that you-?”

“No,” she interrupts and Jeongguk feels a chill run down his spine at the look she shoots at him, “give me just a minute, Jeongguk. I’ll talk to him.” The way she says his name puts him on edge and Jeongguk nods, stepping back to busy himself. He sweeps the floor and organizes the foils, rearranging all of the color brushes by color as Jihyun does the finishing touches. Her face is still pale, he sees, and her constant chatter has quieted to a sudden silence, her expression pinched.

When she finally steps away, wiping her hands off with the towel draped over her shoulder, Jeongguk finds himself guilty pressing against the wall just behind the reception. One of the other assistants gives him a look as they hurry by, and thankfully says nothing.

“Hello.” Jihyun’s voice pulls his attention back, her tone clipped and cold. Nothing like the gentle way she speaks to her guests and coworkers.

“I’m gonna assume you’re ‘her’, then?” Taehyung’s tone too is less casual now, a little deeper. Jeongguk hears a rasp to his voice more clearly now - a smoker, maybe. “You’re late.”

“It’s been a bad few weeks,” Jihyun says and Jeongguk hears the punch of the register opening. There’s the click of the bill clips and Taehyung makes a low hum. Jeongguk shouldn’t be listening to this. “Here. This month and last. Is that good enough for you?” She nearly spits the words, speaking a little quieter now.

“Oh, that’s not for me to decide. I’m just a grunt, lady,” Taehyung laughs, but there’s no humor in the words he speaks. There’s something in the way Taehyung speaks that says more than his words do. Jeongguk only saw him for a short while but he can almost imagine the look on his face. The roll of his eyes, the irritated twist of his mouth. “Although, ” he suddenly says, “I wouldn’t mind seeing that guy from before again - you think you can make that happen?” The laugh he lets out is brighter this time and Jeongguk’s breath catches. 

“What?”

“Y’know, this is a salon, right?” Taehyung laughs again and Jeongguk hates that he thinks the sound is almost nice when it’s got more warmth like this. “I’m sure he has to be good to work at a swanky place like this, hm?” Jeongguk refuses to let himself feel flattered.

“You can’t just-!” Jihyun clicks her tongue and suddenly Jeongguk’s eyes are growing wide as she steps away, coming around the corner to come face to face with him. She barely even pauses, reaching out to grab his sleeve and gently tug him further away from Taehyung’s prying ears. “I won’t even get into what you were just doing,” she starts and Jeongguk’s palms immediately feel sweaty, “but tell me right now if you want me to get him out of here.”

For a single, crazy second the poor, "new grad" in Jeongguk wonders why she would ask that - he needs practice, and it’s money in his pocket, his greedy little brain whispers. It’s the next moment where his common sense kicks and he cringes, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the man hasn’t followed her further into the salon.

“He’s not a good guy, is he?” Jeongguk asks, already knowing the answer, and she gives a single shake of her head.

“But the salon’s problems- my problems - aren’t yours, Jeongguk,” she assures, and Jeongguk glances down at her hand as it squeezes his arm. “Tell me you don’t want to do it and I’ll figure out an excuse to get him to leave.”

“But…” Now, Jeongguk isn’t dumb. He never has been. He’s smart, he’s determined - he’s stubborn as hell - and he finds it hard to take anyone’s shit. In short, he’s a bit of a menace and he’s fully aware of it. “This will all probably come back to bite you in the ass if you do, right?”

Jihyun hesitates and Jeongguk can already see that he’s right.

“I’ll do it,” he says and she blinks. “I can handle one haircut,” he adds, even when she doesn’t look fully convinced. “I promise.”

He can see her battle with it for a moment before she sighs, her other hand coming up so she’s gripping him by the shoulders. Her touch is warm, her expression concerned. “You come tell me the moment you need an out,” she urges and Jeongguk takes a slow breath, exhaling it shakily. The look in her eye is beginning to make him nervous but he’s already given his word. 

“Promise,” he repeats.

In reality, though, Jeongguk finds he’s more likely to commit murder than he is to go crying to his mentor.

Taehyung grins at him through the mirror, his head cocked as Jeongguk tries to focus on the blend of his undercut. “You’re being awfully quiet,” he pokes and Jeongguk only clenches his jaw. “Aw, that’s not a very nice face, kitten.”

This man should be fucking thankful that Jeongguk doesn’t just go ahead and cut his ear off. “What?” He asks and Taehyung’s grin widens. He’s got a pretty smile for such a shit personality, Jeongguk thinks.

“Y’know - a kitten. A baby cat. Ready to claw your eyes out but not big enough to do much damage.”

Hello, yes, Officer? Jeongguk promises he was just doing his civic duty when he said he was taking out the trash. 

“Yeah, that expression,” Taehyung adds and Jeongguk meets his eyes through the mirror. In an instant, Taehyung’s eyes soften and his mouth flattens. “You might want to learn to keep that look controlled, kitten,” he says, and for a fucking crazy second Jeongguk thinks he sounds a little genuine. “Someone out there is gonna take it the wrong way.”

The buzz of his clippers dies and Jeongguk is quiet for a moment as he reaches for his spray bottle, idly running his fingers through Taehyung’s hair. The man’s eyes flutter shut and Jeongguk angles the man’s head a little differently.

“Someone like you?” Someday, he’s gonna get in trouble for not being able to keep his mouth shut.

“Oh, no, I’m an upstanding citizen!” Taehyung waves a hand and Jeongguk physically cannot keep his laugh inside, his hand falling to Taehyung’s shoulder. The man meets his eyes in the mirror and his own grin returns, softer now. “Hey, kitten,” he suddenly says and Jeongguk raises a brow as he reaches for his shears, pulling a comb from his station counter. Don’t react to the name, he reminds himself. “How about you let this upstanding citizen take you on a date?”

“No.” The word comes before Jeongguk thinks too much about it and Taehyung’s hand lifts to his chest, miming pain as he slouches in the seat. This is not what Jihyun wanted to happen when Jeongguk said he would do this. He busies himself with giving his haircut a quick couple of checks, ignoring how well the shaggy length falls over the undercut, curling lightly over Taehyung’s ears. He refuses to think about his cheekbones, or his smile, or his eyes - nope, not happening.

“Kitten, that hurts!” Taehyung says and Jeongguk brows rise even higher as Taehyung lets out a pitiful whine. “You didn’t even think about it!”

“I don’t date bad boys.” Here lies Jeon Jeongguk, a massive fucking liar.

“Hey now, I thought we established this - I’m nothing if not the perfect guy,” Taehyung says, and Jeongguk snorts. “Wow, you’re really hurting my feelings here. I’m a delicate man y’know.”

Jeongguk turns on his dryer, effectively cutting Taehyung off. He smiles as he brushes through Taehyung’s hair. The man only gives him a dramatic sigh and Jeongguk falls into the easy motion of smoothing out the texture of Taehyung’s home-bleached hair, fingers combing through the mottled blonde and violet. Taehyung’s eyes are closed again.

Jeongguk’s traitorous little brain wonders if he’s ever received a touch like this before - a touch that didn’t end in violence.

He forces the thought from his brain. There is no room for sympathy here, Jeongguk reminds himself. He will not let it in.

When he’s finished Taehyung lets out a slow sigh, his arms stretching up above his head and his long legs kicking out. Jeongguk can see the cracks of his boots - the creases that show they’re well worn, the stains of years of abuse.

“Thanks, kitten,” Taehyung says with a wink as he stands, “you did great.”

“Uh-huh.” Jeongguk kind of hates what he did, but he’ll keep that to himself. It would only boost the man’s already inflated ego to hear that all Jeongguk did was make him unfortunately more attractive.

“I’ll bring you your tip next time,” Taehyung says and Jeongguk follows behind him towards the front of the salon. He’ll clean up when the thug leaves. Jihyun catches his eye as they walk, a look of subtle relief in her eyes.

“Please don’t,” Jeongguk says without thinking and Taehyung’s expression brightens, throwing his head back with a laugh. He pulls his leather jacket over his shoulders again and Jeongguk catches a hint of a tattoo sprawling across his chest. He looks away before he sees too much, the ink reaching even lower past the hem of Taehyung’s shirt. He then pretends to not see the shit-eating grin on Taehyung’s face.

“So, kitten,” Taehyung drawls, a wallet between his fingers, “how much do I owe you? What’s the damage?”

Jeongguk’s nose wrinkles as he taps at the computer screen, pulling up Taehyung’s ticket. “Nothing,” he says and the man pauses, the wallet nearly slipping from his fingers.

“What?”

“It’s free.” Jeongguk zeros the price, processing the transaction with a blank look in Taehyung’s direction. The man’s brow furrows, conflicted, and Jeongguk rips the receipt from the printer. “Sign this,” Jeongguk demands and he slides it over, slapping a pen over the paper. Taehyung is silent as he scrawls his name, sliding it back over the counter. “Have a nice day, Taehyung,” Jeongguk says on instinct and the man blinks, pausing as he goes to step away. Jeongguk ignores how the light cuts across his face from the windows that cover the front of the salon, bathing him in golden light. That little traitorous part of his brain knocks again.

“Be careful, Jeongguk,” Taehyung says after a moment, and Jeongguk stares as he turns and steps out of the salon, shoving his wallet into his pocket as he disappears out of view. He looks down at his shirt, eyeing where his name is scrawled over the apron he wears. His face scrunches and he kicks at a pen that had rolled to the floor. The bastard knew his name the whole time.

****

When Jeongguk goes home that night he leaves with a promise to Jihyun that he’ll be safe and a goal in his mind. He goes straight to his computer the moment he drops onto his threadbare couch, dragging it onto his lap as he does what he can to find any hint of a “Taehyung” in the Seoul area. He checks everything he can - every social media he knows of, every news outlet, he even finds a forum for released convicts when he hits a level of truly desperate. He doesn’t know how he feels about the relief that blooms when he doesn’t find Taehyung’s face on the last one.

Truthfully, he doesn’t find Taehyung on anything - but he supposes that shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it is. He doesn’t think he would be broadcasting his name either if he was affiliated with something illegal. Not that he is.

…. Did cutting Taehyung’s hair count? Jeongguk’s expression twists and he slaps the laptop shut, shoving it off his lap. Taehyung’s smile is still fresh on his mind, his laugh ringing in his ears. He’d called him kitten. Asshole.

No more thinking about it, he decides. He needs to forget about him.

Easy enough, Jeongguk tries to convince himself. He stands, stretching his arms above his head. Just another man in his chair Jeongguk will never see again. Just another flirt with nothing better to do. That’s all.

****

There’s a coffee waiting for Jeongguk at the front desk when he arrives at his next shift early the next morning. Jihyun gives him a look as she hands it over, one he can’t decipher, but he’s quick enough to down it in thanks. He hadn’t had the time to eat that morning and he was going to need the caffeine. Jeongguk convinces himself that the silent treatment he gets for the rest of the day doesn’t mean anything, that the looks she shoots him are just out of concern and nothing else.

****

“I thought we were gonna go party, ” the young girl in Jeongguk’s chair whines and he barely hesitates as she kicks her feet a little in the chair - although, thankfully, stays fairly still from the shoulders up. He combs through the section again, his shears quickly snipping the frayed ends.

“Sorry, you know work has to come first,” the man on the other end of her video call says and Jeongguk slowly angles his body so he’s not in view, moving on to the next section. His mouth is sealed shut. “Next time, baby, ‘kay?”

The girl huffs, a snarl marring her face, and there’s a laugh from the man on the phone.

“It’s two weeks, babe,” he says, “and then we’ll hop onto a plane to wherever you want.” She brightens at that but before she can speak there’s another goodbye from the man and the call ends with a soft beep, the screen changing to her home screen.

Jeongguk moves on to the next section, pointedly ignoring that suspicious gleam of wetness that had been poorly wiped from the man’s face.

“Men,” she spits, and Jeongguk commiserates - and then smoothly asks her how she’s liking the weather recently.

****

“What the fuck.”

Taehyung looks up from his cracked phone, a grin tugging at his lips. He’s in that same leather jacket, Jeongguk notes, the one that Jeongguk had hated to think suited him so well. The width accentuates the breadth of his shoulders and the cut highlights his narrow waist.  His jeans are ripped to hell, his boots scuffed and mudstained. “Hey, kitten,” Taehyung says, not unlike a purr, and Jeongguk debates turning right around and taking himself back inside. “Hey, don’t give me that look,” he says, and Jeongguk’s lips purse. “Let me walk you home?”

“Why would I want you to do that?”

Taehyung’s smile hardens a little and Jeongguk feels something unpleasant in his gut at the look. “Ah, no reason,” he tries to say but Jeongguk can hear the deflection a mile away. “Can’t I want to walk a pretty boy home?”

“I’m not interested,” Jeongguk says instead and for a moment Taehyung’s smile softens again, a laugh spilling from his lips at the instant rejection. The thug straightens up from where he leans against the streetlight, shoving his phone into a pocket. He wets his lips, tonguing over what Jeongguk thinks is a new piercing through the center.

“I’m hurt, really.” Taehyung holds a hand to his heart, miming an injury as he winces, and Jeongguk can only roll his eyes. He shoves his hands in his coat pockets, already turning on his heel to follow his regular route to the train station. “Hey, wait!”

Taehyung’s boots pound over the pavement and Jeongguk gives him a look as he keeps pace with Jeongguk, shoving a hand through his hair. It already needs a cut, Jeongguk notes idly. And he needs his roots done. “What are you doing?” He asks instead.

“Walking you home,” Taehyung says, and Jeongguk feels his shoulders pull up to his ears, his expression twisting. “No funny business,” he promises, even as Jeongguk side-eyes him. “The neighborhood… hasn’t been great.”

Oh. Jeongguk remembers seeing something about that on Twitter. A robbery just three streets over. A mugging the night before on the other side of the city. He’d even heard a high schooler had been found half-unconscious about a mile away from her school - drugs, if he remembers right. “Isn’t that your guys’ fault?” Jeongguk asks without thinking. His jaw snaps shut, already regretting the words as Taehyung hesitates.

His dark eyes pin Jeongguk in place, and the stylist feels that uncomfortable feeling in his gut again. Taehyung sucks over his teeth with a grimace. “Let’s just keep walking,” he mutters, and suddenly Jeongguk is the one rushing to catch up, nearly stumbling over his own feet as Taehyung’s long legs carry him towards the station.

****

It continues on for longer than Jeongguk had expected, really - Taehyung showing up outside his job, waiting to walk him home. Sometimes he even shows up at the end of his block when he’s heading to work, a hot cup of coffee in his hand as the other tries to block the yawn that splits his jaw wide open. 

Jeongguk would fear for his life and the clear invasion of his privacy if he wasn’t being conned with expensive lattes and scary dog privilege. How fucked up is it that he actually feels safer walking around at night in the presence of a criminal? Jeongguk is pretty sure that checks more than a few red flags. His mother would be disappointed.

“I’m pretty sure this counts as stalking, y’know,” Jeongguk had said the first morning he’d spotted Taehyung leaning up against a distant bus stop, a familiar white and green cup cradled in his hands.

“You literally let me follow you home,” Taehyung had countered, and Jeongguk had scowled as he sipped at his drink, cursing that it was actually good. How did he even know Jeongguk’s order? “I’m just doing my civic duty. Can never be too careful out here - who knows what sort of criminals are out there.” He continued and Jeongguk had wet his lips, shifting the heavy bag on his shoulder.

“Like you?” He had asked and Taehyung had only given him a sleepy smile and a shrug.

“You’d be lucky to find another one like me, Kitten,” he’d said, and Jeongguk had flipped him off and continued walking, ignoring his shouts.

****

“We should get dinner,” is what Jeongguk is greeted with when he half-stumbles out of work nearly three months after they first met, and Jeongguk has to blink the exhaustion from his eyes as Taehyung’s silhouette wavers - or is the ground moving?

“What?” Jeongguk asks stupidly and Taehyung grins, stepping even closer. It’s getting even colder out - cold enough that even Taehyung has ditched his stupid jacket for proper outerwear. Although, this one is just as beat up as everything else Taehyung owns. It’s charming, Jeongguk supposes. It’s not like anything he owns is anything less than a knockoff either. He and thrift stores are best friends, by now.

“Dinner. We should get it,” Taehyung repeats. He jerks his head down the street, drawing Jeongguk’s attention to the few people roaming the streets this late at night. Few restaurants will be open, he knows. “I know a place,” Taehyung says, as if reading his mind, and Jeongguk gives him a look. “A legal place,” Taehyung adds, and Jeongguk wonders when the man’s words became assurances and not threats. He’s just exhausted, he rationalizes - or tries to. It’s getting harder to believe the lies to himself.

“Is this a trap?” Jeongguk asks and Taehyung only gives him a little mocking shrug, twisting to walk backward down the street. The slap of his boots is loud in the semi-empty street and Jeongguk wonders if the stylists still closing down the salon are watching him stare after Taehyung - if they’re watching with looks of disbelief Jeongguk knows they would sport if they saw him nearly trip trying to catch up with him. Jihyun still asks if he’s okay when he leaves work at the end of the week.

“If it’s a trap,” Taehyung says, “you’re not complaining about it.”

Jeongguk only digs his elbow into Taehyung's ribs, enjoying the yelp the man lets out as he tries to skitter away. The man grins, the light reflecting off the ring in his lip and the studs that line up his ears.

****

Jeongguk doesn’t know how he didn’t see the tattoos before. He knew Taehyung had them, of course - he had seen the hint of one when they had first met - but it’s not as if they have had an opportunity with the chill of winter for Taehyung to strip out of his clothes. Now, though, Jeongguk finds himself staring as Taehyung idly flips through the menu of the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant he’s dragged them too, his eyes roaming over the man’s arms and what little bit of his chest he can see. The neckline is a bit… Jeongguk’s cheeks warm, ignoring that train of thought.

They’re more colorful than Jeongguk had thought, his expectations full of the grainy, badly-healed ink he’s seen in movies. It’s clear whoever did them - at least the ones Jeongguk can see - knew what they were doing. There are a few dates in roman numerals under Taehyung’s collarbones, and a flower Jeongguk can’t quite recognize peeking from the back of his arm - but the one that really stands out as Taehyung reaches for the water they’ve been given is the monochrome tiger on the back of his right hand. It’s maw above his knuckles, his mouth wide open and showing off it’s fangs over his finger. Jeongguk had noticed it the moment Taehyung had peeled off his gloves, showing off a tattoo that was still peeling and scabbing over.

“My eyes are up here,” Taehyung says and Jeongguk’s eyes snap up to see him giving Jeongguk a lazy grin, his cheek propped up on his other hand. “Like what you-?”

“Shut up,” Jeongguk snaps, his cheeks burning brighter, and Taehyung’s grin widens. “Was just… They look cool.” He settles on and Taehyung brightens, straightening up in his seat.

“I designed a few of them myself, actually,” Taehyung starts and Jeongguk watches as his finger traces over the faint lines of a butterfly in the ditch of his elbow, its colors softened with time. “Actually…”

Later - much, much later - Taehyung will say this is their first date. He’ll wax poetic (or as well as he can, anyhow) about how they weren’t able to take their eyes off each other and conversation didn’t stop until the moment Taehyung walked him to his front door. Taehyung will recount every minute of the night with perfect clarity and with a smile so soft that even as the years pass it still makes Jeongguk’s heart ache, his chest tight with an emotion that only this man will ever invoke.

Jeongguk will disagree, but they both know better.

****

The first night Taehyung doesn’t show up outside, waiting for Jeongguk in the early morning before his shift, Jeongguk doesn’t think much of it. They still don’t have each other's numbers but Jeongguk knows without being told that he’s busy. He’s in the dark about the… intricacies of Taehyung’s job, but he’s smart enough to assume and keep his mouth shut. Even when Jeongguk goes to leave that night and the man still isn’t anywhere to be seen he doesn’t let himself get worried. Taehyung will show up soon.

And then the next day goes by, and then the next, and the next - and soon it’s been an entire week of radio silence. An entire week of leather-clad men coming in and out of the salon, walking out of meetings with his boss that leave her more and more frazzled after every one. The backroom becomes off limits to staff and Jeongguk finds himself spending his lunches on the back steps, poking through cold leftovers as one of the senior stylists rips apart a cupcake, desperate for the sugar to get her through the day.

Jeongguk spends the whole week on edge, barely able to follow directions as he’s pushed from one end of the salon to the other 

It’s on the eighth night, just as Jeongguk is toweling his hair dry, that there’s a slow knock on his front door that makes him freeze. His head snaps towards the sound, his hand falling limp at his side, and after a beat there’s another knock - just as slow as the first.

There’s really only one person who knows where Jeongguk lives.

The towel hits the floor as he nearly lunges for the locks, his fingers fumbling until he’s able to undo the latch, practically ripping the door from it’s hinges in his haste. The frigid air from the hall cools his skin, but it’s the blood crusted across Taehyung’s face that sinks in deep, right to the bone.

The man blinks at him, one eye bruised and nearly swollen shut, before giving him a slow smile. There’s blood on his teeth, his lip split near the corner of his mouth. “Hey.” His voice grates, scratchy. He straightens up from where he’s propped up by Jeongguk’s door, wincing as he pulls up to his full height. “Uh, do you-?”

“What,” Jeongguk interrupts, his tone as tense as the grip he has on the doorknob, “the fuck.”

Taehyung has the audacity to look sheepish, his head ducking a little as if to hide his face. “Ah, sorry? I didn’t, well, you know,-”

“Get inside!” Jeongguk snaps and his hands finally release the door, reaching out to grab Taehyung by the sleeve. “Sit down! You’re bleeding!”

“Oh, yeah, I can take this off if you want-?” Taehyung’s words are quickly lost to Jeongguk’s fretting, the man quieting as Jeongguk shoves him down onto his threadbare couch, fluttering around until he remembers the nearly empty first aid kit under the sink. It’s nothing more than a few bandaids and a half-empty tube of antiseptic but Jeongguk grabs it anyway. He wets a cloth too, not even flinching at the nearly scalding temperature.

Taehyung simply watches, silent as Jeongguk drops down beside him. Neither of them mentions how Jeongguk’s hand shakes as he pulls Taehyung’s left hand towards him. Neither of them mentions how Taehyung’s finger sits at a slightly crooked angle - they don’t have the tools or the know-how to reset it. Instead, Jeongguk slowly wipes the blood from his knuckles, laying a bandaid over the faded lettering inked into his skin. Jeongguk only gets up to rinse out the rag, sitting back down to repeat the process all over again.

Taehyung eventually peels out of his leather jacket, and then his bloodied shirt, and Jeongguk says nothing of how his throat tightens at the sickly bruises scattered across his ribs. Jeongguk wants to ask him to go to a hospital, but the reason why he can’t hangs over their heads. The man blinks up at Jeongguk as the stylist leans over him to carefully wipe the blood from around his swollen eye, another bandaid resting under the swell of Taehyung’s lip.

“You should see the other guy,” Taehyung finally says when Jeongguk goes to pull away and Jeongguk can’t stop the way his expression crumples.

“You,” Jeongguk’s mouth twists, turning away to hide his face, “are stupid.” He tosses the rags into the empty first aid kit, not caring how it slides across the coffee table, and smacks onto the ground from the force. He stands and hates the laugh Taehyung lets out in response.

A hand catches his wrist and Jeongguk glares down at Taehyung's swollen, smiling face. “We already knew that, though, didn’t we?” Taehyung asks and Jeongguk finger jabs towards his chest, barely making contact with the mottled skin.

“This isn’t the same as your usual level of stupid!” Jeongguk snaps and Taehyung’s smile softens, his grip not loosening. “You-! Look at you! Is whatever the hell you’re doing really worth getting beat up like this?” Jeongguk wets his lips, aware of the sharp spike of pain beneath his collar, like a hand squeezing his heart. “You just disappeared off the face of the Earth without a word - I have absolutely no idea if you’re even alive -.” He cuts himself off, weakly pulling at the hand holding him still.

“Were you worried?”

“No,” Jeongguk lies. Taehyung’s smile brightens again. “Don’t give me that look.”

“It feels nice,” Taehyung says, ignoring Jeongguk’s protests, “knowing someone is.” Taehyung adjusts his grip and Jeongguk lets himself be pulled back down onto the couch, his wide palm sliding until their fingers lock together. “I’m sorry I worried you,” he says, quieter, and Jeongguk feels the last wisps of his anger fade, leaving only the anxiety that’s been brewing for days.

“You should be,” Jeongguk mutters, and Taehyung snorts.

“So feisty,” Taehyung says with a little laugh, and Jeongguk swallows back a retort, only twisting until they’re side-by-side again. The room falls quiet again and Jeongguk stares down at their tangled fingers. Taehyung’s knuckles are bruised, the split skin already beginning to heal over. Taehyung’s thumb brushes over the back of his hand, slowly swiping back and forth. There’s a little scar over Jeongguk’s first knuckle - a remnant of beauty school that hasn’t faded yet - and he circles it, gently following the line of the cut.

“It scares me,” Jeongguk finally whispers, his voice cracking in the quiet.

Taehyung freezes, his hand squeezing Jeongguk’s briefly. “What does?” His words are just as soft, just as quiet.

Jeongguk looks up, hating the bruises that mar Taehyung’s face, hating the blood that’s started to stain one of the bandages. Taehyung’s smile is uncertain, his head cocking a little at Jeongguk’s silence. “Being with you,” he finally says and Taehyung’s expression falters. “I’m not stupid, you know? I hear things - and I was there when you first showed up at the salon. I know you’re in some pretty illegal shit, even if I don’t know what you do. I…” Jeongguk turns away, sucking his lower lip between his teeth. “It’s terrifying knowing what could happen.”

“To you?” Taehyung finally asks and Jeongguk can’t help his scoff.

“To you, you asshole!” Jeongguk snaps, his head snapping back so he can glare at this stupid man. Taehyung blinks, silent for a moment, before - incredulously - a smile crawls across his lips.

“So you were worried-.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Jeongguk rips his hand back and he stands. “Get out,” he snaps again but Taehyung only grins up at him. His hands reach out towards Jeongguk but the hairstylist slaps them away - even if his touch is softer than it should be. “Out,” he says again but Taehyung only reaches up again. His palms are warm where they settle on Jeongguk’s thighs and he tugs against the muscle, pulling until Jeongguk is stumbling forward. His knees hit the cushions and Jeongguk finds himself straddling his lap, knelt on the couch above him. He catches himself on the backboard, palms nearly slipping over the worn fabric.

Taehyung’s grin widens and his hands slide up until he’s cupping Jeongguk’s waist. It’s barely any effort at all before Jeongguk is settled over his hips, his knees tucked up against the back of the couch. Taehyung sinks into the cushions, his knees widening under him to balance himself. “I’m sorry,” Taehyung says and Jeongguk’s scowl deepens. “I am,” Taehyung insists, “I’m just,” he pauses and Jeongguk lets his hands rest on Taehyung’s shoulders. “I don't know what I could say that would make you feel better.”  Taehyung’s hand strokes up over Jeongguk’s ribs, and the other - the one with the broken finger they had to shoddily brace - settles at the dip of Jeongguk’s hips. 

“Why don’t you just lie to me then?”

Taehyung’s hand slips under the thin material of Jeongguk’s shirt, his hand warm where it slides over his skin, and Jeongguk feels himself falling forward, Taehyung’s chin tipping up towards him. “Do you want me to?” The man asks, his voice getting softer, and Jeongguk’s hand finds itself at the base of his neck, his fingers burying in faded purple strands. “I could,” he continues. “I could tell you it’ll never happen again. I could tell you that it’s nothing serious.”

Jeongguk’s fingers curl, tugging at his hair. Taehyung’s grin tips lopsided, softening at the edges. Jeongguk can feel his breath against his lips, the brush of Taehyung’s lashes with every blink. The man shifts and his nose brushes Jeongguk’s. “And?”

Taehyung’s grip tightens, his arm looping around Jeongguk’s back until Jeongguk can feel the length of him between his legs. “I could tell you I can’t stand you,” Taehyung whispers with a huff of a laugh, his lips ghosting against Jeongguk’s. “I could tell you that I don’t set an alarm every morning waiting to see you. That I don’t take jobs that will specifically keep me in town just so I can see you sooner. That I haven’t been saving up money to take you to that restaurant you mentioned two weeks back.”

“That’s a pretty shit lie.” 

Taehyung hums and Jeongguk’s breath hitches as Taehyung’s lips finally touch his, his hand following Jeongguk’s hips as they roll forward. “Isn’t it, though?” Taehyung mumbles into the kiss and Jeongguk tugs him back in, his other hand falling down to rest over the man’s bare chest. His heart races under Jeongguk’s palm.

Jeongguk can’t remember the last time he kissed anyone, but he’s sure that whenever it was it doesn’t compare to the heat that rises between them as Taehyung tugs at his lip, his tongue pressing past the seam of his lips until Jeongguk is gasping into his mouth. The bar through the center of his lip catches on Jeongguk's, the bar through his tongue dragging across the roof of his mouth. Jeongguk's hand follows every roll of Jeongguk’s hips, Taehyung’s legs tensing before he’s pushing up against him, meeting Jeongguk at every turn.

“Wait,” Jeongguk fumbles over his words, Taehyung quick to pull him into another kiss as he goes to pull away, “you’re hurt-,”

“Don’t know what you mean,” Taehyung says and Jeongguk jerks at the first hard grind of his cock against Taehyung’s. His mouth drops open around a moan and Taehyung’s lips drag across his jaws, teeth scraping over the beat of his pulse. “Pretty,” Taehyung says and Jeongguk’s hips swivel, dropping his weight into every roll. The tent of his shorts is beyond noticeable but Jeongguk can’t feel embarrassed when he can feel Taehyung’s cock through his jeans, the heat of his breath against Jeongguk’s throat.

“You think,” Jeongguk hiccups, his face pressed against Taehyung’s hair as the man works a mark into his shoulder, “you can make me come like this?” He pulls at Taehyung’s hair, a smile tugging at his lips when he feels rather than hears Taehyung’s moan.

“You don’t think I can?” Taehyung pulls away from his handiwork, meeting Jeongguk halfway for a kiss Jeongguk groans into; there’s a dampness to his briefs that makes the slide between them rougher, the cotton sticking and making Jeongguk shake in Taehyung’s arms. Taehyung’s arm tightens around him, his body meeting Jeongguk’s at every turn.

Jeongguk bites at Taehyung’s lower lip, tugging. “You don’t think you could do better?”

Taehyung falters and Jeongguk smirks a little, a flush rising up along his neck and shoulders. Taehyung stares up at him, his hair ruffled under Jeongguk’s hand, his lips a little swollen. “You should be careful what you ask for,” Taehyung says but Jeongguk only rolls his eyes.

“How about I tell you then.” Jeongguk’s hand falls from Taehyung’s shoulder and slips between them, a heavy hand sliding over where Taehyung’s cock presses up against his zipper; Taehyung swears, burying his face in Jeongguk’s shoulder, and Jeongguk grins. It’s all teeth, a little mean as he teases Taehyung through his jeans. “You wanted to know what would make me feel better?” Taehyung nods, nails scratching lightly over the small of Jeongguk’s back. “Prove you want to make me happy.” Jeongguk fumbles over his zipper and Taehyung’s breath whistles between his teeth as Jeongguk’s hand slides under his waistband, feeling Taehyung’s muscles tense at his touch. Taehyung’s lips kiss over his shoulder, his teeth teasing a bite, and Jeongguk’s fingers sloppily circle around his cock, working it from his pants.

“Fuck,” Taehyung moans, and Jeongguk gasps as he’s suddenly lifted from the couch, Taehyung’s fingers gripping him so tightly he wouldn’t be surprised to find bruises the shape of his fingertips along his thighs in the morning. Jeongguk’s legs lock around his waist and Taehyung stumbles forward, twisting until he’s carrying Jeongguk deeper into the apartment. “Gonna make you feel so good,” Taehyung promises and Jeongguk holds him by the jaw as he kisses him, smiling into it at Taehyung’s pleased little noise.

“Prove it,” Jeongguk repeats and he hears a door get kicked open behind him, Taehyung hurrying to where Jeongguk’s bed sits. Taehyung’s grip shifts and Jeongguk falls backward, his back hitting the sheets seconds before Taehyung descends onto him; Jeongguk crawls back to the center of the bed, Taehyung settling into the space between his thighs like he’d never existed anywhere else.

Taehyung’s good hand grabs at the waistband of Jeongguk’s briefs, the other pressing down over his stomach as he yanks the cotton over his hips. He wiggles down the bed and Jeongguk nearly bites through his own tongue as Taehyung’s drags over the head of his cock, tattooed fingers stroking up from the base. The metal of the barbell through the center catches over the vein of his cock and Jeongguk jerks, whimpering a little. Dark eyes stare up at him and Jeongguk’s knuckles press against his lips, the hem of his shirt in the white-knuckled grip of the other.

“You-,” Jeongguk chokes as Taehyung kisses the flushed skin, the sight of his smile downright illegal from Jeongguk’s point of view. “That’s not-,” his words are lost around a gasp as Taehyung’s lips part and every inch of him disappears between them, the man swallowing around him without a flinch. Jeongguk throws his head back and he can’t stop how his hips rock up, Taehyung’s hand moving from his cock to grabbing at Jeongguk’s thigh. His leg gets lifted over Taehyung’s shoulder and the other follows, Taehyung moaning as Jeongguk’s body jerks with every drag of his mouth, his legs threatening to crush Taehyung between them.

“T-Tae,-” Jeongguk’s fingers grab at Taehyung’s hair and the man lifts off his dick with a barely muffled grunt, peering up at him through his lashes as Jeongguk’s heel digs into his back.

“Don’t worry,” Taehyung says and Jeongguk swallows at the slight rasp to his voice. “I’ll make you come again,” he promises. His lips part around the flared head of Jeongguk’s cock again and Jeongguk’s moan is a near shriek as Taehyung’s throat flexes around him, every rise and fall falling further and further down until Jeongguk is unable to stop from fucking up into his mouth, his body convulsing with every slide of his tongue. The muscles of his abdomen tense with every passing second and Taehyung’s bandaged hand squeezes his thighs, almost encouraging how they’re pressed up against his skull.

It’s the look Taehyung gives him that tips him over the edge - faster than he’s ever been able to get himself off. Dark lashes framing even darker eyes, his ears as pink as his cheeks. It’s the sight of Taehyung’s other hand disappearing into his own pants, the vibration of his moans sinking deep into Jeongguk’s bones, that makes Jeongguk yank on Taehyung’s hair with a final cry, the beginnings of tears prickling at his eyes as his back bows off the bed, as he comes harder than he ever has before.

Taehyung pulls off of him with a gasp after a second, Jeongguk’s come dripping off his tongue just as the rest hits his chin. Jeongguk’s chest heaves as Taehyung stares at him, his body going limp even as he trembles. His legs slip off of Taehyung’s shoulders and Taehyung thumbs off the come from his face, licking it off his thumb and swallowing it down like the rest.

Jeongguk grimaces and Taehyung grins, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his cheek. Jeongguk’s arms are like limp noodles around his shoulders but he pulls him closer, hooking a shaking leg around his waist until Taehyung’s body is pressed against his from top to bottom. He ignores the taste of himself, pulling Taehyung into a proper kiss, licking past his teeth.

“That was quick,” Taehyung teases and Jeongguk bites him. “Hey!”

“You owe me another one,” Jeongguk reminds him, but there’s barely any heat to it as Taehyung laughs into another kiss. They kiss again, and again, each touch softer than the last. The bandage hugging Taehyung’s lip scrapes against his chin, the makeshift brace around his fingers rough against Jeongguk’s thigh. Jeongguk feels those tears rising again. 

When Taehyung finally pulls away to breathe he catches it immediately, the shadow of his smile fading in an instant. “What’s wrong?” He asks, palms cradling Jeongguk’s pink cheeks, but Jeongguk only shakes his head.

“I’m fine,” he says, though Taehyung’s frown says he doesn’t believe him. “Just feel good.”

“Already moved you to tears?” Taehyung’s brow raises and he rolls across the bed, pulling Jeongguk with him until he’s splayed out across Taehyung’s chest. “Haven’t even fucked you yet,” he points out and Jeongguk rolls his eyes.

“Guess you’re just that good,” he says and Taehyung’s smile gets a bit of that cocky edge that drives Jeongguk up the wall. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, it’s going somewhere,” Taehyung grins and Jeongguk doesn’t feel bad about the yelp he lets out when he pinches his nipple, careful to avoid where any of the serious bruising is. “Hey!”

“Quiet,” Jeongguk shuffles up onto his knees, feeling his muscles protest the stretch as he reaches over to the cheap plastic drawers next to his bed. Taehyung’s hands grab at his waist, steadying him as he digs around. The bottle of lube is brand new and Jeongguk stares down at him as he breaks the plastic seal with his teeth, ripping it off and tossing it aside. 

Taehyung’s gaze is dark and narrow as Jeongguk lets the lube drip over his fingers, his own cock hardening between his thighs. He stays up on his knees, balanced by the weight of Taehyung’s grasp. “You want some help there, kitten?” Taehyung asks and Jeongguk licks his lips, his throat drying at the deep rasp of his words.

“No,” Jeongguk finally says and he keeps his eyes trained on Taehyung’s as his hand reaches behind him; his back arches and he braces one hand on Taehyung’s chest, “but an audience would be nice.” The first finger rubs between his cheeks and Taehyung’s eyes drop down to where Jeongguk’s lips part, a soft little sigh escaping. Taehyung swallows and Jeongguk slowly presses the first finger in, letting himself get used to it.

“Do you realize how pretty you are?”

“Shut up,” Jeongguk snaps without any heat, and Taehyung’s eyes drop down between his legs. One of Taehyung’s hands moves to slide under his jeans and Jeongguk watches, his knees widening over Taehyung’s hips, as he goes to push them off. Jeongguk pushes two fingers in just as Taehyung’s long fingers wrap around his cock, still hard from earlier and dripping over his knuckles. He moans, a little “Oh,” and Taehyung strokes over himself as Jeongguk curls his fingers a little harder, pushes a little deeper. 

“So fucking pretty,” Taehyung whispers, his voice suddenly soft in the dim light of the room. His grip on Jeongguk’s hip tightens and Jeongguk rocks back into his own hand, a second pushing in with the first. The sensation is nothing mind-blowing but Jeongguk finds himself blushing under Taehyung’s attention nonetheless. “Could look at you all day,” he continues and Jeongguk watches how his thumb rubs under the head of his cock, his eyes tracing the veins on the back of his hand and the flex of his wrist. 

Jeongguk’s nails scratch over Taehyung’s chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos. “Just gonna look?” He chokes over a moan, trying desperately to ignore how his ears are burning. He presses in the third finger, whining as he adjusts to the stretch. It’s been so long, he wants to say, but he bites his lip and spreads his fingers.

“You want me to touch?” Taehyung strokes himself faster, a low groan rumbling from his chest; he focuses on the head, his palm twisting until his hips are jerking up at the touch. “I’m ready when you are, kitten,” he says and Jeongguk swallows as he pulls his fingers out, clenching around nothing. Lube-slick fingers trace up the curve of Taehyung’s dick as he reaches for a condom from Jeongguk’s side table, helping roll it over. “Easy,” Taehyung murmurs as Jeongguk shifts higher up the bed, reaching back to guide himself down over Taehyung’s cock. “Fuck,” he hisses and Jeongguk whines through clenched teeth as he sinks down over the flared head, feeling how god damn thick Taehyung is as his thighs strain with keeping him from falling too fast.

Taehyung’s hands grab at his thighs, pressing over darkening bruises, and Jeongguk lets himself be guided into a slow bounce. His head falls back, his fingers barely brushing over Taehyung’s stomach as Taehyung lifts him up and lets gravity drop him back down.

“Taehyung,” Jeongguk whines, his tongue heavy in his mouth and nearly drooling over himself; a hand flails and Taehyung grabs it, locking their fingers together. Jeongguk squeezes it, using it as leverage as his muscles flex with the next rise, the muscles of his abdomen tightening. “Fuck, fuck -,” Jeongguk hiccups over his next breath and he only gets a flash of a grin before Taehyung pulls his knees up and his hips rock up into the meat of Jeongguk’s ass.

He squeals and falls forward, the smack of skin drowning out Jeongguk’s moans. Taehyung grabs his other hand and Jeongguk pushes their hands into the pillow beside his head, stretched out across Taehyung’s body. “God, you feel so fucking good,” Taehyung growls and Jeongguk rolls back into the next thrust. Taehyung stares up at him like he’s drowning, drinking in the sight of Jeongguk losing himself on the drag of Taehyung’s cock, his little noises getting higher and higher with every spark against his prostate.

“Taehyung,” Jeongguk says again, his tongue dragging over his lips, “Taehyung.”

“I got you,” Taehyung promises and Jeongguk gasps as Taehyung’s hips connect one more time before they’re rolling again. Jeongguk’s sweat-slick back hits cool sheets and without missing a beat tattooed hands are hooking under his waist, hiking him up off the mattress. Jeongguk’s head falls back into the pillows, fingers scrabbling over the sheets as Taehyung fucks into him even harder. Jeongguk cries out, the noise echoing above him as he clenches around the length of Taehyung’s cock, his body convulsing with the first sign of his end. “I got you, I got you,” Taehyung repeats and Jeongguk hooks a leg around his back, letting himself be yanked back into each thrust.

“Taehyung, Tae -!” Jeongguk reaches a hand up and he’s only just barely able to brush his fingers against Taehyung’s cheek before his orgasm suddenly rips through him; his jaw clenches and he nearly screams. His thighs clamp tight around the narrow line of Taehyung’s hips and the man’s own movements stutter, the thin rubber between them doing nothing to disguise the faint sensation of Taehyung’s come pooling inside of him. Jeongguk rocks onto his cock, relishing in the hiss Taehyung lets out. Taehyung doesn’t stop him, instead riding out his orgasm with him.

They don’t stop moving until Jeongguk is patting a hand against Taehyung’s chest and Jeongguk grimaces as Taehyung pulls out, his hands only leaving Jeongguk’s body long enough slip off the condom and drop it into the bin on the other side of the bed. As soon as he’s done he’s draping himself over Jeongguk’s body again, sweaty skin pinning Jeongguk into the bed. Jeongguk groans but wraps his arms around Taehyung’s shoulders, pulling him into a cuddle as he buries his nose in Taehyung’s hair.

There’s the faint press of a kiss against his shoulder and Jeongguk smiles, holding Taehyung a little tighter. Long fingers trace over his ribs, narrowly avoiding where Jeongguk’s come is smeared between them.

“Didn’t even need to touch you,” Taehyung murmurs after a moment, and Jeongguk yanks on his hair. “Ow!”

“Shut up,” Jeongguk says and he doesn’t say anything about the unmistakable curve of Taehyung’s grin where he’s now kissing up the line of Jeongguk’s throat. “You got lucky.”

Taehyung pauses and Jeongguk’s grip loosens as Taehyung pushes himself up onto his elbows, blocking most of what little light they have from the open curtains. He barely catches how Taehyung’s smile softens - but he does feel the way his fingertips trace over Jeongguk’s cheek, cupping his jaw just before Taehyung presses a kiss to Jeongguk’s swollen lips. They part and Jeongguk hums at the slide of Taehyung’s tongue. His own hand rises to cradle the back of his neck, fingers burying in the violet strands.

When Taehyung pulls away he doesn’t go far, simply resting their foreheads together in the silence, only the noise of the city beyond the apartment’s walls and the beat of their hearts cutting through. “Yeah, I did,” Taehyung says after a moment and Jeongguk frowns, not remembering what he’d said. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Taehyung continues and Jeongguk lays back as Taehyung picks himself up from the bed, neither mentioning how he stumbles towards the bathroom on shaky legs.

Jeongguk’s fingers trace over his lips, doing a poor job of hiding his smile.

****

“You’ve never asked about my job,” Taehyung says as they lay together, wrapped in clean clothes and sheets. Jeongguk looks up from where’s tucked under Taehyung’s arm, Jeongguk’s laptop playing softly over their legs. Taehyung glances down at him, fingers twisting through Jeongguk’s hair. 

“Is there really much to ask?” Jeongguk says dryly and Taehyung tugs on a lock. “We met because you shook down my boss for protection money.”

Taehyung, to his credit, doesn’t look very upset by that. Jeongguk figures it’s probably nothing to a man whose entire livelihood centers around skirting the law. “You’ve got that half right, I guess,” Taehyung admits. “All the businesses on this side of town send a cut of their profits to the boss - we cut a deal for even less if they want us operating out of their business itself.” Jeongguk frowns, tugging the blankets up a little higher. So that was why there were so many people at work recently, he thinks to himself. “You don’t have to worry about it though, they know you’re off limits,” Taehyung says easily, resting his head over Jeongguk’s. 

Jeongguk freezes. “What?”

Taehyung’s hand snakes under the blanket, grabbing Jeongguk’s. “I’m not a very tough guy,” he says and Jeongguk’s brow furrows even deeper, “but I can at least keep you safe. No one I work with will cause you any trouble.” Taehyung squeezes his hand and Jeongguk twists until they’re able to see eye-to-eye again. “Trust me - even if only about this. Please.” It’s the heaviness to his voice, the weight of his words, that makes Jeongguk nod. There’s a lot about Taehyung that Jeongguk doesn’t know - a lot he doubts he’ll find out any time soon - but the look in Taehyung’s eye settles his nerves before they even have a chance to spark.

Taehyung smiles, pressing a kiss to Jeongguk’s temple. His hair, damp from the shower they’d shared, tickles Jeongguk’s lashes. “Thank you,” he whispers and Jeongguk tips his chin up to catch Taehyung in another kiss.

“I want to know what you do, in return,” Jeongguk says just as quietly and Taehyung hesitates, his hand already beginning to trace its way along Jeongguk’s body. “You figured out where I live,” Jeongguk points out and Taehyung’s nose wrinkles. “And you found out my coffee order.”

“How’d you - wait, why is that the worst one?” Jeongguk only purses his lips, silent, and Taehyung’s expression twists with uncertainty. “It’s not big,” he starts and Jeongguk’s mind is already racing with the shit he hears at work - the poorly hidden crimes and even poorer disguises. The soft mentions of drugs with a sprinkle of violence - how people go missing for things that are “not big”.

“Explain,” Jeongguk says.

“I’m barely more than an errand boy, promise,” he says but Jeongguk only waits. “Pick up this package here, drop it off here. Listen to this person here and repeat it to them over here. Drive this, break this - it’s all just minor shit.”

“How dangerous is it?”

Taehyung's expression scrunches even further. “...Barely?” Jeongguk’s eyes narrow. “A little?” He .corrects. “I mean, it’s not like anything is risk-free, but I’m not exactly being called to oversee merchandise or sign contracts.” He plasters a grin on his face and Jeongguk can see the mask. “I can handle myself,” he assures.

“Can you-,” Jeongguk cuts himself off, sucking his lip between his teeth.

“Can I, what?”

Can you stay safe? Can you stop?

But Jeongguk doesn’t say any of that. He twists around in Taehyung’s arms and buries his face in his chest, his cheek pressed over the racing thud of Taehyung’s heart. “Nothing,” he says and Taehyung’s arms slowly come around to hold him close. Jeongguk reaches down and nudges his computer, waking it back up so the video unpauses.

There’s a kiss against his hair but they don’t say anything for the rest of the night.

****

Nothing much changes, honestly. Taehyung still walks him home every night - when Jeongguk has to stay late with a client - and he still randomly brings him coffee. They go out to eat at the tiny places around town Taehyung finds and Jeongguk pretends that each and every time isn’t just another date. But some things do change - beyond the intimacy, although that’s a big part of it.

It’s as if their sudden closeness - and Jeongguk doesn’t know if he can say the word ‘boyfriend’ yet - has broken some of the barriers Taehyung kept up about his job. Suddenly Jeongguk finds himself cleaning up the last few things for the salon and Taehyung is lounging across the waiting room couches, or Taehyung is perched on one of the stools in the backroom while Jeongguk is mixing color - all while accompanied by a few other guys Jeongguk barely recognizes as some of the men that had been working out of the back of the salon.

“No sense staying outside,” is all Taehyung says, but Jeongguk gets the feeling it’s more about protection than convenience. The look some of the other leather-clad men shoot him makes his hair stand on end like they’re just waiting for the right time to take him out of the picture.

But regardless, as Jeongguk is finishing up for the day with the other stylists - who, against Jihyun’s best judgment, have decided to defer to Jeongguk on how to handle the man - it becomes more common than not for Taehyung to be waiting by the front door. He doesn’t really have anything to say to the others but he listens to the last of their conversation die off as they all go their separate ways, a hand on Jeongguk’s back as they walk down the sidewalk. Then, when they’re finally alone he takes Jeongguk’s hand and asks him about his day and Jeongguk actually tells him - the no-frills version of it, too.

“I don’t know how her hair hasn’t fried off already, to be honest,” Jeongguk sighs, his nose buried in his scarf. “You’d think people would realize that we’re not wizards - I can’t fix what you already fucked up beyond repair.”

“I don’t know,” Taehyung says with that little bit of a cheeky tone and Jeongguk can already feel an eye roll coming on, “I’ve seen your pictures, I think you just don’t have enough faith in yourself.” 

Yup, there it is. “You stalk my Instagram, that’s not the same thing.”

“It’s called ‘keeping in touch’.”

Jeongguk laughs, the noise bubbling out of him. “Sure, that’s what we’ll go with.” Taehyung grins, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand as they come up to the last block of Jeongguk’s commute. There’s a light sprinkling of snow covering Taehyung’s hair - red, now, after Jeongguk had gotten tired of seeing how far his roots had grown in. He reaches up and brushes more off of his shoulders, the water streaking over his leather jacket. Taehyung’s smile doesn’t waver for a second as Jeongguk leans into his space, fingers pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“You should do that more often,” Taehyung says as Jeongguk goes to pull away and the stylist stops, an eyebrow raising in question. “Laugh,” he clarifies. Jeongguk’s face burns and Taehyung swoops in to press a kiss to his cheek, making a loud mwah when Jeongguk’s nose scrunches up and he tries to wiggle away. “No,” he whines and Jeongguk pulls his hands back, stifling another laugh as he bats Taehyung’s greedy fingers away.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some big bad criminal?” He asks, ducking from Taehyung’s obnoxiously long reach and the man only grins. “Stop!” Jeongguk whines when Taehyung finally catches him around the waist, smacking another loud kiss to the stretch of skin just behind his scarf and burying his face in Jeongguk’s shoulder.  “Taehyung-! That tickles!” 

The nearly empty street ricochets Jeongguk’s giggles back at him and he feels Taehyung’s smile pressed against his neck, and the man’s freezing fingers inching their way under Jeongguk’s coat. He curls around Jeongguk’s back, not unlike a shield - or a blanket.

“Let me just hold you for a second,” Taehyung murmurs and Jeongguk rolls his eyes but quiets down.

“What if one of your ‘friends’ see us?”

“Who cares?” Taehyung squeezes his waist, hugging him tighter. “Let me hold my boyfriend for a minute.”

Jeongguk stares down the street, silent for a moment; He can see his apartment complex in the distance. Taehyung’s soft breaths are quiet in his ears, the beat of his heart muffled through the layers of their clothes. Jeongguk feels the chill beginning to seep into his bones the longer they stand outside but he doesn’t pull away quite yet. 

Boyfriend.

It’s not like it’s a word Jeongguk is unfamiliar with, per se. He’s had boyfriends before, he’s had partners before. But it does feel… new. Like this, anyway. In Taehyung’s arms, reveling in the warmth of his affection.

“Jeongguk?”

He turns, twisting in Taehyung’s arms until they’re nose to nose. Taehyung goes nearly cross-eyed meeting his eyes, his grip never loosening around Jeongguk’s body. “Do you…” Taehyung blinks and Jeongguk feels that flush return at full force, rising high enough that even the tips of his ears burn red. “Does my boyfriend want to come inside?”

Taehyung blinks again, and once more, before Jeongguk sees the second it clicks and the man grins, his head cocking a little as a little of that familiar arrogance surfaces. “You know I do,” he says and anything Jeongguk was going to add is lost under the pressure of Taehyung’s lips against his. “Let’s hurry up, then,” he says, a hand rising to thumb at Jeongguk’s bottom lip, “don’t want your pretty little head to get sick, hm?”

Jeongguk shoves him away and Taehyung laughs out loud as Jeongguk turns and stomps the rest of the way down the street. He ignores Taehyung’s giggled-filled whines as he chases after him all the way up to his front door - he almost succeeds in slamming the door in his face, but is thwarted by a leather boot.

****

Not much changes - until it does. And it kicks off a storm that moves too quickly for Jeongguk to ever have even had a chance at stopping it.

It starts with a girl settling in his chair on the first day after he graduates from his position as a full-time assistant, a day that he and his coworkers had celebrated with a cake Jihyun had picked out from her favorite bakery across town and with a few small gifts he had tucked away in his work bag. What she wants done isn’t the issue, Jeongguk has enough confidence in his own skills after nearly a year of working behind the chair (and the added bonus of nearly seven months subjected to Taehyung’s unending compliments) and a young woman wanting a makeover is well within his skillset as long as it’s within her budget.

“Really,” she says nearly two hours into her appointment, “I probably wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for my fiance.”

“Oh?” Jeongguk barely looks up from where he’s folding another foil into her hair, already reaching for the next one.

“Well…” She takes on a lilting tone, a smile in her voice as she plays with her phone in her lap. “Okay, so, you didn’t hear this from me but he’s like, kind of a big deal in his job, yeah? He’s got a lot of responsibilities.” Jeongguk’s eyes flick up to hers in the mirror, nodding to show he’s listening. “We’ve never really struggled, to be honest, but his, um, boss?” Something tugs at his gut at the twist in her expression. “He started paying a little bit too much attention to the newbies, y’know?”

Jeongguk does not, in fact, know.

She continues, waving a hand in the air as she talks. “So, my fiance starts talking about how maybe he needs to look into another line of work, right?” Jeongguk nods again, biting his tongue. He doesn’t like where this is going. “But he’s already put so much time into this one! And so, y’know,” her words come a little easier now, relaxing as Jeongguk continues to work, “he tells me one night that he has an idea. Now, I didn’t agree at first, okay? But, it’s not like it’s my job, right?”

Jeongguk really does not like where this is going. His brush drops back into the bowl next to him, fingers folding another foil. “Right,” he says instead.

“So, he tells me, instead of making a big fuss of everything he’s just going to, y’know, take what he’s owed.”

“Well,” he says slowly, “you said he’d worked for them for a long time, right?”

She smiles and Jeongguk’s shoulders relax when she looks back down at her phone. It’s the newest model, he sees now. Her ring, too, looks brand new. He’s pretty sure he saw her purse in a display window a few weeks ago on a walk with Taehyung. “Yeah,” she agrees, “a long time.”

Jeongguk resits the urge to swallow his nerves back when he catches her staring right back at him. It’s a little too pointed. “Well,” he says instead, avoiding her gaze when he sets the final foil, “I’m going to set a timer for you and then I’ll be back to get you rinsed, okay?”

Her expression brightens and the corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles up at him. “Okay!” She nearly chirps and Jeongguk can’t get away from her fast enough.

Don’t give them too much attention, he reminds himself.

So, he does his job. He starts a timer and does dishes and switches the laundry and sweeps the floor and organizes new shipment and checks the timer again and wipes down the shampoo bowls - everything he can to ignore the weight of what’s heard. He wets his lips anxiously as he folds another towel, keeping his eyes trained on his hands. What the fuck is he supposed to do about that? What is he supposed to think?

He knows that what he’s supposed to do contrasts with what he actually does. He knows he’s supposed to ignore the shit that comes out of their mouths so he doesn’t carry it with him through the day. He knows he’s supposed to leave the drama and trauma at the door so he can come right back with a fresh mind, open and willing to hear whatever they bring back with him the next time.

He also knows it’s fucking terrifying to be put in the position that he is - that he’s been in for months now on the receiving end of fuck-all that people will spew at him when he’s working. He knows that he’s terrified that there are people in this world that don’t seem to consider the consequences of their actions - for them and the people they’re around.

He knows that he’s in a unique and terrible position and the only way out is the one option that throws it all away.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and Jeongguk double-checks the timer on the counter before pulling it out, biting his lip when he sees Taehyung’s name pop up on the screen.

‘Dinner?’ The first message asks, and then as Jeongguk stares another one follows, a picture of a place they’ve never been. It’s a screenshot of a Naver search. It’s got good reviews.

Should Taehyung be told?

The timer goes off and Jeongguk shoves the phone back into his pocket. He peeks through the doorway of the salon’s dispensary and sees that the young woman is scrolling through her phone, content where she’s perched under the halo dryer. Completely unaware of the shitstorm she’s brought in with her.

He takes a slow breath in and then lets it out. He takes another one for good measure, counting the seconds until he feels his lungs burn and he lets it whistle between his teeth.

Don’t give them too much attention, he reminds himself.

“Alright,” he says with a smile as he comes up beside her, “let’s head over the bowls now, okay?”

He feels like he’s an assistant all over again - ironic considering he can see the balloons celebrating his promotion just out of the corner of his eye. He’s near mechanical as he scrubs the color and lightener from her hair, watching as the water slowly runs clear. The scent of the ammonia fades and he reaches for the bottles beside him, barely looking as he drags his fingers through her hair.

She’s still scrolling through her phone and Jeongguk curses his vantage point when he sees her check an incoming deposit. The number of zeros makes his gut twist. His own phone is heavy in his pocket with Taehyung’s messages still left unanswered.

Maybe he should tell him.

The fog over his brain lingers even as he’s finally preparing for her to leave, taking a few pictures of her hair that he promises he’ll post and tag her in. She promises in turn that she’ll follow him and bring all her friends in and Jeongguk wonders just how much of his social media following has a RAP sheet.

It stays until Taehyung walks in when he always does, ready to walk Jeongguk home, as she’s leaving The two of them briefly make eye contact as they squeeze by each other. There’s a flash of familiarity across Taehyung’s face that throws Jeongguk for a loop but he keeps his mouth shut until the door’s bell jingles as it shuts. One of the other stylists follows after her and Jeongguk waves her off.

It’s when they’re alone, only the distant sound of a dryer running as the last few stylists finish their last guests filling the silence between them, that Jeongguk notices the stern look of concentration on his face. Taehyung’s eyes are locked on the door, his brow furrowed and the set of his jaw a little tense. At Jeongguk’s questioning look he lumbers closer, leaning an elbow over the reception desk. “I know her,” he says at first and Jeongguk frowns back at him. “I… work with her boyfriend.”

“Fiance,” Jeongguk corrects before his words fully digest and Taehyung’s brows raise. “Wait, what?”

Taehyung ignores him, still staring towards the door. “Man, it’s weird to see her. And they’re engaged? Last I heard he was thinking about dumping her.”

Jeongguk feels a frown of his own tug at his lips and he leans over the counter as well. “What? Then why would he propose?”

“Who knows?” Taehyung shrugs a shoulder, looking back towards Jeongguk. “Maybe he had a change of heart?” His frown melts into a cheeky smile and he closes the last few inches between them, meeting Jeongguk in a quick kiss. “How was your day?”

“Not bad,” Jeongguk starts, but he feels his attention drag back to the door, still thinking about the woman. Taehyung’s gaze is unwavering and Jeongguk feels himself hesitate. “It was fine,” he says instead after a second - but Taehyung’s eyes narrow and Jeongguk backtracks. “She just said something weird today, that’s all.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk echoes, and as Taehyung leans in a little closer Jeongguk knows he’s about to break every rule he’s ever given himself since he started working at this salon, “something about them coming into some money - that her fiance was getting what he was owed, or something like that.” He looks back to Taehyung. “Does that…?”

The anger is clear in the curl of Taehyung’s lip, his eyes a little darker than they were a moment ago. His hand curls into a fist over the counter and Jeongguk’s eyes catch a vein popping just under his jaw with how hard he grinds his teeth. “Give me a second,” Taehyung nearly spits and Jeongguk watches, a little dumbfounded, as Taehyung turns and stomps out the door.

He pauses once he gets to the sidewalk and Jeongguk watches in near comical silence as Taehyung shouts a muffled “fuck” into the air and then turns and kicks out a platform boot into the nearest garbage can. It topples over, paper flying across the street, and Jeongguk continues to watch as Taehyung kicks it again, practically launching it down the sidewalk. There’s another “fuck!”, this one a little louder than the first, before Taehyung turns and comes back inside. The bell above the door gives a happy little jingle at his entrance.

“Can you leave, now?” Taehyung asks, his cheeks a little red and his breathing a little heavier, and Jeongguk can only nod.

“...Give me a second.”

****

“That fucking bastard !” Taehyung yells, throwing his jacket across the room. It lands in a pitiful lump on Jeongguk’s couch before Taehyung drops down on top of it, burying his face in his hands. Jeongguk hesitates by the door, one arm still in his coat as Taehyung stews in his anger. “God, I can’t…” Taehyung hisses, raking his fingers through his hair.

“I’m gonna guess,” Jeongguk starts cautiously, deciding to just leave his own coat where it falls as he moves to Taehyung’s side; he sits down slowly, leaning a little into his shoulder, “that I fucked up?”

“What?” Taehyung straightens up, his anger fading a little in his confusion. “No, no, not at all,” Taehyung assures and a hand raises to cup Jeongguk’s cheek, a thumb tracing over the curve of his mouth. “Honestly, I’m glad you told me. Really,” he assures at Jeongguk’s dubious look. “You don’t,” Taehyung winces, his hand dropping to settle over Jeongguk’s knee, “you don’t know how much you just helped me figure out.”

Jeongguk grabs his hand. “Like what?”

“Like, so much,” Taehyung laughs a little helplessly. “It’s not like I would have ever figured it out on my own, anyway. You know how I’ve been sent all over the city these last few weeks?” Jeongguk nods. He doesn’t remember the last real date they went on - although Jeongguk would still be a little hard-pressed to consider them dates in the first place. Out loud, anyway. Thankfully, Taehyung has never been deterred by his, frankly, awful personality. “Well, I’ve been in hot-fucking-water with the boss, lately, and I didn’t know why. It’s not like I’ve ever really had a big fuck-up, you know? I’ve made mistakes, but I’m still alive and that’s at least a little credit to my name.”

Taehyung laughs again, the sound harsh and grating to their ears, and Jeongguk ignores the suggestion that Taehyung could have died at some point. “And this fucking asshole,” he leans back into the cushions, easily pulling Jeongguk into his arms as he stares up at the ceiling, “is fucking stealing? God, fuck him. I’ve spent years working with this ass and decides to thank me by throwing the blame on me ?” Taehyung’s tongue rolls over his teeth. “Fuck.”

Jeongguk sits in silence, listening. This is well beyond anything he’s ever dealt with himself.

“I need to tell him,” Taehyung says after another minute, and Jeongguk hums, looking up at him.

“'Him'?”

“The boss,” Taehyung clarifies and Jeongguk can feel the weight of the title in the way Taehyung’s heart skips. He doesn’t usually show his nerves like this - not to anyone but Jeongguk, anyway. “I’m not, I’m not just going to let myself become some scapegoat. I’m not gonna let him and his prissy woman fuck with me - with us .”

‘Us’. Jeongguk hates that even in the face of Taehyung’s own harm, his heart still races at the fact that Taehyung still thinks of them. That he views them as a team, a partnership. “When?”

“As soon as possible.” Taehyung leans in, kissing over Jeongguk’s hair. “I’m supposed to make a report at the end of the week - I’ll see if I can make it happen earlier.”

Jeongguk’s arm snakes around Taehyung’s middle and he squeezes. “Are you going to be okay?”

Taehyung hugs him back, nearly pulling him into his lap. “Of course,” he promises, and Jeongguk lets him cement that promise with another kiss, his fingers tangling in Jeongguk’s hair. “You don’t have to worry.”

****

“I told you not to worry,” Taehyung says four days later, greeting Jeongguk with a cheeky grin and a bag full of takeout. His eyes are bright and he’s wearing new jeans, fashionably ripped instead of worn. “Guess who got promoted?”

****

Peace lasts for about as long as it takes for spring to come back around, flowers blooming in the wake of the last of the snow melting. They spend their first Christmas as a couple together, Taehyung nursing bruised knuckles and a mysteriously ripped jacket but an even more suspiciously heavy wallet. Jeongguk gets to watch Taehyung open his first luxury item, and then Jeongguk is surprised with his own. They eat dinner on the couch wrapped up in each other and Taehyung’s smart mouth somehow gets Jeongguk bent over the arm of the couch.

Jeongguk hits even more milestones in the salon and he nearly cries when Jihyun praises his hard work - she’s almost gotten over his gangster boyfriend, and he can barely believe it. His hours increase even more and he finds himself run ragged but his bank account only increases and his shabby apartment slowly becomes a home. Taehyung’s things start appearing in the most random places and Jeongguk quietly tucks them away amongst his own stuff. Soon enough the man has his own drawer in Jeongguk’s bedroom and his own permanent toothbrush in the bathroom, a worn-out pair of his combat boots by the front door, and a forgotten coat hanging up in Jeongguk’s closet.

Taehyung goes radio silent a bit more often than before, often being called out all across the neighboring cities and even out to some of the farmlands even further. Jeongguk doesn’t ask what’s out there, but he doesn’t think he really needs to. Taehyung never fails to send a ‘miss you’ when he’s about to come home, an innocuous sign that while someone else’s day might have gotten fucked over Jeongguk’s is about to get a lot better.

It’s late early April when Jeongguk steps out from the salon, leaving early after a last-minute cancellation, to Taehyung’s open arms. He falls into them easily, breathing in the faint scent of tobacco still clinging to Taehyung’s jacket. It’s new, gifted when Jeongguk had gotten his biggest paycheck to date.

“Hungry?” Jeongguk grunts, burying his face in Taehyung’s shoulder; knuckles roll just under the base of his skull and he feels himself melt. “Out or home?” Another grunt. Jeongguk squeezes around his waist. Who needs air? “Alright, out it is. Come on, come on.” Taehyung adjusts his grip and Jeongguk can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of him when he starts to walk them down the sidewalk, waddling back and forth as he balances Jeongguk’s dead weight in his arms.

Jeongguk’s hands reach up and hook over Taehyung’s shoulders and he hikes a leg up and around his waist, grinning into Taehyung’s jacket when a hand grabs under his thigh and hoists him up higher. He straightens up as Taehyung slows to a stop, unable to not smile at the absolutely besotted look on Taehyung’s face.

“There you are,” Taehyung says and Jeongguk leans in, keeping the kiss chaste - he has his limits. “You ready to be a person, now?”

He rolls his eyes, letting himself be dropped back onto his feet. “Where are you taking me?”

“What are you feeling?” Taehyung’s arm drapes across Jeongguk’s shoulders and he tucks Jeongguk into his side. “Don’t turn around,” he says, softer this time, and Jeongguk’s smile freezes. “Don’t worry,” Taehyung assures and when Jeongguk glances over at him, his boyfriend shoots him an easy smile, “just keep walking with me, ‘kay?”

Jeongguk nods, fighting the urge to look over his shoulder as Taehyung easily guides them through the streets he knows like the back of his hand. “What is it?”

“Oh, nothing big,” Taehyung says and Jeongguk feels a little bit of his tension bleed away when Taehyung lets go of him to reach down and grab his hand. “I was going to surprise you with food already bought but I saw them casing out the place across the street. Would have scared them off but I don’t recognize them - could have gone south.”

“So now what?” There’s an anxious sweat building under Jeongguk’s bleach-stained shirt. How the fuck is he supposed to react in a situation like this?

Taehyung squeezes his hand, swinging it a little between them. He twists with a bright smile and Jeongguk lets himself be pulled into another kiss. He sees Taehyung’s eyes, barely open, peer past him - clearly staring at whoever has been following them. When he pulls back, a new bounce to his step, Jeongguk feels his unease grow as Taehyung casually pulls his phone from his pocket.

“You’re going to call Jimin,” he says and Jeongguk’s expression scrunches in confusion. They stop at a crosswalk and Jeongguk gets the briefest glimpse of a figure in a black hoodie coming to a stop not too far behind them.  “My best friend,” he explains, “and the only one I trust completely.” Taehyung glances up from his phone long enough to see the lights switch and Jeongguk is being pulled across the street. Taehyung is walking faster now, keeping them well within the decently large group of people.

“What about you?” The bright lights of a convenience store catch Jeongguk’s attention - and Taehyung’s too. He pulls them inside, quickly looping around until they’re nearly completely hidden by the aisles. The chill of the freezers makes Jeongguk shiver.

“Take this,” Taehyung says instead and Jeongguk takes the phone, hearing a tinny ‘Tae?’ come from the speaker. “Tell him everything. I’ll be back, okay?”

He gives Jeongguk a kiss to the forehead, his fingertips brushing under his chin, and Jeongguk watches as Taehyung’s expression settles into something a little darker as he turns on his heel and walks right back out.

“Tae? What the fuck is happening?” Jeongguk blinks, looking back down at the cracked phone in his hands. ‘Jimin’ stares back at him, the middle finger emoji nestled right by his name. “Are you there?”

He raises the phone to his ear and Jeongguk has the thought that suddenly the freezers don’t feel so cold anymore, and the sound of the announcements overhead seem a little more distant. “We were being followed,” he says numbly and the ranting that’s streaming through the speakers comes to a stop. “He told me to tell you that. He went back outside.”

“Jeongguk?” Jimin’s voice is a little more hesitant now and he makes a soft noise of affirmation. “ Fuck - okay, where are you? Did he just leave? How long were you being followed?” There’s the jangle of keys through the line and the scrape of a chair; Jimin’s voice fades for a second as if he’s racing around the space while the phone sits stationary. Jeongguk fills in the holes and he finds himself frozen in place, unable to turn to where they had come from, and where Taehyung had gone back. The front wall of the store is nearly completely glass, but he can’t look. There hasn’t been any screaming, any shouting for police. “Okay, fuck, I’ll be there as soon as I can - do not move.”

The line goes dead and Jeongguk is left to stare at a black screen, his face shattered in the reflection.

A young girl edges past him, bowing and apologizing as she reaches for a cup of ice, a pink plastic pouch of tea already tucked away in her basket, her phone held up to her face as if she’s filming what she grabs. Right, he thinks as he holds Taehyung’s phone, he’s seen people online do that. Something for American audiences to go crazy for, or something like that. The girl nods her head toward him again as she slips past him again, trying to make herself smaller.

A few more people do the same exact thing before there’s the click of a heavy heel over linoleum and Jeongguk sees a painting of a man turn the corner. He pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and Jeongguk recognizes the shadows in his eyes. Taehyung has the same look when he thinks Jeongguk isn’t paying attention.

“Let’s go,” Jimin says, his cheeks a little pink, and Jeongguk wonders if he ran all the way here. There’s a faint sheen across his temple, barely hidden by the mess of hair over his brows. “We’re not safe here.”

****

“Taehyung’s apartment was absolutely trashed,” Jimin says once he’s locked the door to Jeongguk’s apartment behind him; Jeongguk drops down onto the couch, watching as Jimin hurries over to the window across the room. “I don’t know what they were looking for - in anything - but I can only guess that they must have done it to make a point.”

“He’s been gone for a week, though? He just got back.” Jeongguk tucks his hands between his knees, thumbing over the scab between his fingers from an accident earlier that week at work.

“I know,” Jimin locks the window, yanking the curtains closed. He tosses his jacket onto the empty chair, barely giving the clothes piled up on it a second look. Jeongguk wonders if he recognizes Taehyung’s coat hanging off the back, or the belt nearly slipping onto the floor. “They might have thought he was brushing their warning off when he didn’t react. Maybe that’s why they followed you today - hoping to get the jump on him.”

Jeongguk looks down at his lap, watching how the skin over his knuckles pales with the force of his fingers curling. He’s silent as Jimin continues to roam around his apartment. He hears the fridge open and close and the rush of the tap running for a second.

“I’ll need to make a few calls,” Jimin continues when he comes back in, a glass of water in his hands. “You need to stay home - I don’t care how you do it, or what you say. Taehyung wasn’t quiet about keeping you out of the business, and that means people know your face. The moment you step out of this apartment they’re going to be on you, and you’ll just be another piece of blackmail against him.”

‘Out of commission’. Jeongguk’s jaw clenches and he feels his body curl in, hair falling forward into his eyes. ‘I’ll be back,’ Taehyung had said. ‘I can handle myself’, he’d said all those weeks ago.

There’s something deeply horrifying about what he’s been subjected to hearing for months at work suddenly becoming his reality. He thinks about the men who’ve left the country while on the run from the police, the men who’ve answered FaceTime calls with a smear of blood still lingering on their shirt collar. He thinks about the women who’ve ordered hits and drug deals beneath pretty words about mundane sales.

Jimin is quiet now but Jeongguk can’t bring himself to look up at him. He speaks into his knees instead, his forehead pressed to his knuckles. “Is he going to be okay?”

Jimin’s silence is overwhelming.

He leaves Jeongguk alone as he makes a call, leaving Jeongguk alone with his tears.

****

The first day Jeongguk wakes up alone, wrapped in cold sheets and a shirt Taehyung had left the last time he slept over. He can’t force himself to eat, staring up into full cupboards with the taste of vomit rising in the back of his throat. He feels unsteady, nauseous, and numb.

Taehyung would have started whining about breakfast right about now, wrapping lanky arms around Jeongguk’s waist until he caved and moved to where the pans are stored.

His phone is silent - the ringer on but the screen dark with no new notifications. Jimin had left late last night with a promise to be in contact, but Jeongguk doesn’t have much hope in him, yet.

Jeongguk calls Jihyun and he tries to lie, tries to tell her he has to take an immediate leave for a family emergency - nevermind the fact he hasn’t talked to his parents in years - but she’s too observant for her own good and he knows she sees right through him.

“Take your time,” she says, a little stiff even though Jeongguk knows deep down she means well, “we’ll call your clients.” She hangs up not long after, the sound of someone calling her name in the background. He tries to think about the commission he’s losing out on and not the warmth of a body beside him.

He barely eats through the rest of the day. The TV gets turned on but it’s barely background noise, just flashing colors and a rumble of white noise that Jeongguk can’t focus on. He flips through his Instagram in a mockery of working but doesn’t actually take anything in. He keeps flipping between apps, staring at his text threads.

The first day ends with Jeongguk falling asleep on the couch, his phone tucked against his chest.

****

The second day goes much like the first.

Jimin only texts once, a ‘nothing yet’, that stares at Jeongguk almost like it’s mocking him.

His stomach rumbles, aching, but he manages only a sip of water before he feels himself gag and throws it back up.

He falls asleep on the couch again. The faint scent of Taehyung’s favorite brand of cigarettes is the only comfort he has as he curls up under the blanket Taehyung likes best.

****

Jeongguk doesn’t move from the couch on day three. He’s barely awake long enough for it to matter.

****

When he wakes up on day four he grimaces at the taste of his mouth, realizing belatedly he hasn’t brushed his teeth since the day before last. Jeongguk slowly pushes himself up, wincing at the pull of his muscles as they stretch out. He supposes, though, that being uncomfortable is better than being lonely.

Jeongguk pushes himself up to his feet, rocking a little onto his heels as a wave of vertigo washes over him. He blinks the spots from his eyes, a hand absently rubbing over his stomach as it twists. He walks past the kitchen as he makes his way to the bathroom, already peeling off two-day-old clothes.

It’s mechanical the way he cleans up, his thoughts simply pure static as he stares at himself in the mirror, his wet hair dripping down his face as he brushes his teeth. He doesn’t look as he grabs a clean shirt, shuffling back through the silent apartment to the couch. He takes a quick glance at his phone and isn’t even surprised to see that it’s nearly dinner time. The pains in his stomach get stronger, more pointed, but sips at another barely lukewarm cup of water.

At least he keeps it down, this time.

He glances at his phone again, anxiously tapping at the screen so the time glares up at him.

Still nothing.

Suddenly the silence is blaring and he grabs the remote, turning the TV onto whatever station he’d left it at. He doesn’t know what’s playing, doesn’t recognize any of the actors, but he doesn’t care.

There’s a woman on screen crying into her phone, huddled up in what looks to be a back alley. There’s blood on her hands and the shadow of a body in the distance.

The TV is off before he has time to register the movement, his hand nearly launching the remote across the room.

That might be Taehyung, his traitorous little mind whispers. How would he know? It’s not like Jimin has told him anything.

He feels his blood chill at the sudden, sharp knock against his front door. His head turns towards the entryway, eyes locked on where he clearly sees the lock turned. There’s a moment of silence and then another knock, louder than the first one. He stays silent and goes to grab his phone from the table where it still sits silent and dark.

Jeongguk slowly stands from the couch, his feet quietly carrying him to the entryway. There isn’t another knock. There’s a peephole - barely used and foggy from being forgotten in his deep cleans - and he carefully inches towards it. He doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath until he feels his lungs burn, his cheek cool where it presses against the painted wood.

There’s no one there.

In fact, he can’t see anything in the view of the glass, but that fact doesn’t give him any comfort.

Jimin told him not to leave, he reminds himself. Not to be seen.

He leans back and flicks the lock open, slowly turning the handle. His other hand reaches for the umbrella left forgotten in the corner, lifting it like a makeshift bat. The door cracks open and Jeongguk peers through the gap, eyes darting left and right.

Still no one.

The door opens wider and his head inches out, the umbrella moving with him.

His shoulders fall as he realizes there’s no one in sight, but he can’t feel himself fully relax. There’s a small brown box, smaller than a shoe box, resting on his welcome mat. There’s no shipping label on it and Jeongguk feels the familiar drag of anxiety pinch at his nerves again.

He nudges it with the umbrella but there’s nothing to give away what might be in it. It simply slides across the floor, deceptively innocuous.

When he finally picks it up he’s surprised by how light it is and he finally hears something shuffling around inside - the sound muffled like it’s padded. He gives the hall another once over before hurrying to lock the door again, feeling exposed the longer he stands there.

There’s a pair of scissors in the kitchen and Jeongguk goes to grab them, leaving the umbrella on the counter before he slices through the packing tape. The box is full of crinkled newspaper and Jeongguk’s nose wrinkles at the sharp, unfamiliar scent that suddenly rises from under the paper.

“What the fuck-?” His voice cracks from disuse and he reels back from the box, rubbing at his nose as if it’ll rid him of the smell. It makes his stomach roll and he presses the back of his hand against his mouth, cautiously getting closer again as the other hand peels back the paper.

His hands clap over his mouth and cut off his scream, his eyes burning with the force of his tears rising to the surface. He gags and can taste the bile at the back of his throat and he has to twist away, retching into the sink as he sobs.

A single finger rests on bloodied newspaper, the digit soaked in the original owner’s blood. The faint ink of an old tattoo - done in the back of a tattoo shop he was barely old enough to be in, done after he’d shown the artist a sketch he’d done himself in the back of his school books - barely peeks through the rust. The polish on the nail is chipped and uneven where Jeongguk had tried to do it for him but had messed up when Taehyung had made him laugh.

Jeongguk cries, the sound ugly and loud, until his knees go weak and he’s forced to sink to the floor. The wood is freezing against his bare legs but he doesn’t care, his breath catching around another sob. Each cry rips out of him and he struggles not to throw up again. His palms press against the floor and soon he’s curled up, the scent of sick and blood making him cry even harder.

How fucking long had Taehyung been in pain? How long had it been? Had it been from the moment he’d left? The moment he’d been taken?

Or had they waited? Did they talk first, faking diplomacy before they struck? Did they make nice, trading soft, verbal jabs like how Taehyung often did before they pulled out the tools that had done that?

Jeongguk’s body shakes so hard he feels his knuckles rap against the floor; there’s no rhythm to his breathing anymore, the sound jarring in the otherwise cold silence. There’s a whistle to it as his tears continue to fall, his lips trembling with every breath in and out. It’s a small mercy when he blacks out, his consciousness only returning when he’s sprawled across the floor with barely even breaths.

He blinks slowly, unable to tell how long it’s been again. He thinks he left his phone in the living room, but when he turns his head he finds his gaze locking on the box again.

It hasn’t moved, of course, but suddenly it seems bigger than it was before.

He slowly sits up, his gaze trained on it, and doesn’t care how ridiculous he’s being when he crawls backward towards the doorway. He doesn’t stumble to his feet until he can no longer see it anymore, immediately twisting towards where he can see his phone still sitting where he’d left it on the table.

Like a sign, the screen lights up. It dings with a new message.

He lunges for it and ignores the near whimper he lets out at the ‘1 hour ago’ right next to the notification. He focuses instead on Jimin’s name and the address to a hospital across town. When he opens the message fully, his fingers shaking so bad he nearly drops the phone entirely, there’s another line added beneath it.

‘He’s alive'.

****

He’s under a different name - a pseudonym Jeongguk doesn’t recognize and truthfully doesn’t care to look too deeply into. The nurse gives him a look when she notices he’s clearly still in the clothes he slept in but thankfully doesn’t say much more than the room number he’s in, clicking her tongue when he takes off at a dead sprint towards the elevators. He doesn’t take notice of the stares he gets as he zips through the halls, his sneakers squeaking around corners as he barely stops himself from barreling into everyone he sees. He’s focused only on the small plaques that dictate the name of each hall and the little plastic numbers over every room.

401, 403, 405 - his pulse skips as he gets closer and suddenly he spots Jimin stepping out of a room at the end of the hall. The man sees him almost immediately and his hands jump up to catch him seconds before they collide. Jimin stumbles but keeps them both upright.

“Jesus Christ,” he snaps, a little breathless, “did you run the whole way here?”

“He’s in there?” Jeongguk asks instead and Jimin rolls his eyes. The bags under them are deeper than they were before. Jeongguk wonders if he’s slept at all since they saw each other last.

“Yeah he is - but be quiet, the nurse said he needs as much sleep as he can get right now-.” Jeongguk is already moving past him, ignoring the way Jimin grumbles something about respect. He hears Jimin follow in after him and the door shut but he doesn’t turn. His eyes are locked on the figure spread out across the bed, neatly tucked in beneath blindingly white sheets.

Taehyung’s face is swollen and one of his eyes is bruised from eyebrow to cheekbone. There’s a new split from the corner of his mouth and a few neat bandages under the hair covering his forehead and cupping his jaw. There’s bruising around his neck - the imprint so dark Jeongguk can see where each finger had taken hold. His steps slow until he reaches his bedside and he sinks into a chair. Just… staring. There’s tubing across his face, just under his nose, and a few machines around him beep intermittently. The noise is as jarring as it is comforting.

The hand closest to him rests over the sheets, a heart rate monitor on his first finger, and the other is completely wrapped in bandages. There’s a hint of blood staining them - a tiny dot of red that makes his stomach roll again.

Jeongguk doesn’t know if he has any more tears to shed.

He looks at the pale hand in front of him again, the roaring face of the tiger not nearly as comforting as it should be. His own hand reaches out, long fingers curling around Taehyung’s wrist. The beat of his heart is echoed by the machine beside him. Jimin takes the other chair, silent, and Jeongguk knows that there isn’t anything in the world that will pull him from this spot. He’ll wait.

****

The second the hand under his grip moves Jeongguk is jolting awake, his eyes struggling to focus in the dim light. The light from the hospital is bleeding in from the doorway and the sun is low in the horizon. He doesn’t know whether it’s dusk or dawn but figures it doesn’t matter when he’s faced with Taehyung’s dark eyes cracked open, his face turned in Jeongguk’s direction.

Taehyung smiles when he sees he has Jeongguk’s attention and his hand lifts, the monitor bumping Jeongguk’s chin as he scruffs just under the edge of his jaw with his fingertips. Jeongguk’s throat feels tight and Taehyung’s expression softens as Jeongguk grabs his wrist, pressing his cheek into the palm of Taehyung’s hand. Taehyung’s thumb sloppily rolls over the curve of his cheek, a little uncoordinated.

He takes a slow breath, the sound a little wheezy, and Jeongguk blinks through new tears as Taehyung’s lips part around a whisper. “I’m back,” he says, and Jeongguk’s lip trembles.

“You,” Jeongguk’s breath hitches and he stands, taking a seat on the edge of Taehyung’s bed. He leans over him, careful not to rest his weight over his chest as his forehead hits the pillow beside Taehyung’s head. It’s awkward, the muscles in his back pulling with the uncomfortable stretch, but he doesn’t care. Taehyung’s hand settles over his waist and Jeongguk’s tears soak into the pillowcase. “No more lies,” he says, crying through his words, and Taehyung makes a soft little noise. “I told you to lie to me - you told me you were going to be safe. You told me you’d be back. You-.”

“Jeongguk,” Taehyung’s voice is barely more than a rasp and Jeongguk sits up, one hand braced against the bed, “don’t cry.” His eyes are a little hazy but he reaches up to clumsily brush Jeongguk’s tears away, frowning when it just makes him cry harder.

“No more lies,” Jeongguk repeats, a hand clutching at Taehyung’s wrist. He can hear nurses talk in the halls and the squeak of wheels but he is focused only on Taehyung; Taehyung, too, watches only him. His heart rate picks up a little, the beeping getting just a little faster.

“I love you,” Taehyung whispers, and Jeongguk sobs.

Taehyung’s lips are chapped and he tastes like blood, but his body is warm under Jeongguk’s careful touch. Jeongguk wipes the tears that drip onto his cheeks, sniffling as he tries to get himself under control.

“I love you, too,” he says and Taehyung's smile nearly lights up the whole room. He smiles like he’s not in extreme pain, the little bag of morphine hanging beside him keeping him comfortable. He pulls Jeongguk into another kiss even as his eyelids get a little heavier and Jeongguk indulges him, basking in the sound of his heart racing.

When they part again Taehyung yawns a little and Jeongguk sits up further, giving him a little space. “S’too bad my face got fucked up,” Taehyung says, his words a little slower now and Jeongguk can’t help his scowl as Taehyung tries to joke.

“Shut up,” Jeongguk snaps, tightening his grip on Taehyung’s wrist, and his boyfriend grins a little wider.

“Missed your bullying,” he yawns again and Jeongguk sputters.

“I don’t bully you!”

“Hm,” Taehyung hums and he weakly pulls at Jeongguk’s grip. Jeongguk wants to protest, knows that any second now a nurse will walk in and Taehyung will be bombarded with questions now that he’s conscious, but his eyes linger on the color of Taehyung’s bruises, and the thick bandages around his other hand, and he lets himself curl up in the tiny sliver of space beside him on the bed. Taehyung’s eyes are nearly closed as Jeongguk adjusts the blanket around them, his breathing settling even before Jeongguk is.

The bed is the furthest thing from cold when Jeongguk, too, drifts off.

****

Day five starts with a nurse waking them both up with a stern warning, her eyes soft but her words appropriately harsh for a medical professional scolding her patients. Taehyung looks the least bit bothered as she shakes a finger at the two of them, Jeongguk’s ears burning even though he can see her holding back a smile. Jimin stands behind her with his arms crossed, nodding along like he was ever a voice of reason.

Taehyung pulls Jeongguk into a kiss the moment she leaves, saying she’ll be back with a doctor as soon as possible. Jimin gags where he stands in the doorway but Taehyung almost seems to thrive in front of his disgust, his tongue pressing at the seam of Jeongguk’s mouth.

Fortunately, Jeongguk has the brain between them and he pulls away, barely flicking a finger against the tip of his nose like a disobedient dog. Taehyung only grins, beautiful even when bruised to hell and back.

“You could at least pretend to be a little civilized,” Jimin grumbles, dropping into the chair he’s claimed opposite of Jeongguk. “You realize how many strings I had to pull to get you here in time?” His tone is cold even as he reaches forward and pushes the button to help Taehyung’s bed lean up, his eyes trained on every flinch Taehyung tries to hide. “Why don’t we throw a little gratitude in there, too?”

“Yes, yes, my savior.” Taehyung rolls his eyes but the effect is lost behind the pallor of his skin and the sweat building across his hairline. Even just the effort of sitting up - even assisted by the bed itself - takes a toll on his body. His bandaged hand lies still beside his lap, still hidden from sight. “Whatever would I do without you?” 

No matter how ungrateful he seems, though, Jeongguk knows him too well - and so does Jimin, by the little satisfied nod he gives.

“So, what the fuck happened?”

Jeongguk braces himself, already reaching for Taehyung’s uncovered hand as the man finally relaxes a little into the bed.

“Do you remember that tip Jeongguk gave me?” Taehyung asks and the man in question frowns. “Well, Kyuhyun wasn’t too happy I fucked over his little skim job, apparently.” The name is unfamiliar but by the look on Jimin’s face he must recognize it - and Jeongguk is smart enough to connect the dots. “Thought he’d threaten me a little, wanted to know who told him - the usual.”

“Why didn’t you tell him?”

Taehyung’s attention swings over to him and Jeongguk remembers there’s a little brown box sitting on his kitchen counter. “You know why,” is all he says and Jeongguk remembers Taehyung’s blinding smile last night. He twists his hand in Jeongguk’s grip and weakly squeezes his fingers, the harsh plastic of the monitor digging into his knuckles.

“So that’s it? He threw a few punches and took your fucking finger-,” Jeongguk flinches, “and that’s it?” Jimin crosses his arms, propping a foot up over his knee.

“I’m sure it would have escalated if you hadn’t come in when you did,” Taehyung points out and Jeongguk doesn’t want to think about what he means. Doesn’t want to think about that little brown box. “Pretty sure I heard something about a fire - I’m sure you wouldn’t know what I’m talking about.”

Jimin sniffs. “Of course not.”

Taehyung only rolls his eyes again and Jeongguk’s gaze drags down his face, tracing the edges of the bandages that peek out from under his hospital gown. “Of course not,” he echoes.

“You know - fuck, it’s the boss,” Jimin suddenly hisses and everyone’s attention jumps to the sound of his phone ringing. Jimin jumps to his feet, already hurrying to the hall. “I’m not done with my questions!” He calls over his shoulder and Taehyung sucks over his teeth.

“He’s such a mother hen,” he complains and Jeongguk raises a brow. He’s known Jimin for all of five days (and really, more like one) and he thinks the last thing he’d ever describe the cactus personified is ‘mother hen’. Taehyung shakes their linked hands. “Are you okay?” He suddenly asks and Jeongguk blinks, staring back at him. Taehyung winces. “Sorry, that was stupid-.”

“Your finger is in our kitchen.” Taehyung’s teeth click as his mouth shuts. His lips purse, a thin line cutting across his face. Jeongguk laughs, the sound just a touch hysterical. The laugh cuts off as sudden as it started and he looks away for a moment, his eyes red and raw and already starting to water again. “Your finger - Taehyung.”

Jeongguk feels helpful. Stranded. His entire body is unsteady and Taehyung’s own expression shatters a little as Jeongguk’s crumples. He bends over their clasped hands, pressing them to his forehead not unlike how he’d done just days ago in the wake of Taehyung’s capture. Except this time Taehyung is here, with him. Not whole, not healthy, but warm and breathing nonetheless.

“I can’t do this,” he suddenly whispers and Taehyung’s heart rate skips. He feels Taehyung flinch under him. “I love you - god, I love you so fucking much but I can’t do this.”

“Jeongguk,” Taehyung’s other hand suddenly rises from the bed, and Jeongguk jerks back, whimpering high in the back of his throat. Taehyung freezes and Jeongguk rips his hand back, his sweaty palms pressing over his face. He shakes around a cry, pressing over his eyes so hard he sees colors burst behind his lids. “Jeongguk, please, what do you mean-?” Taehyung is still reaching out, hissing as he tries to sit up further and Jeongguk can’t look - he can’t watch the man he loves fall apart in front of him, broken and not whole and breathing but broken-.

“It scares me,” he whispers and he hears the bed creak as Taehyung freezes. “It scares me so fucking much - I told you it did. I told you it terrified me knowing you could get hurt, and then you did, and it’s my fault, and-.”

“Shut up,” Taehyung snaps, and Jeongguk’s eyes open, his hands falling from his face in shock. His boyfriend stares at him, sweating and even paler than before but hurt as he finally snatches Jeongguk’s wrist back. His grip is cold and shaking but firm despite the weakness in his body. “Shut up - don’t talk about yourself like that. You did nothing wrong. I love you, okay? I’m right there with you,” Taehyung’s voice starts to rasp again, his throat dry and grating from overuse, “I’m right there. And I’m not going anywhere - and neither are you. I’m not,” Taehyung pulls at his arm and Jeongguk falls forward; Taehyung's hand skirts up his wrist and arm, all the way up his shoulder until he’s cupping the back of Jeongguk’s neck, “I’m not going to leave you,” he promises, and Jeongguk feels a weight to his words that hadn’t been there before.

The mask that had been there that night as he’d promised he’d be okay is nowhere to be seen. All Jeongguk sees is a naked honesty Taehyung has never let himself show before - and that Jeongguk hadn’t wanted to be given, until now.

“I love you,” Taehyung repeats, and Jeongguk is stunned silent at the tears that pool in the line of his lashes, “so please don’t go.”

“You’re gonna get hurt again,” Jeongguk protests, the sound weak and watery to his own ears. “You - you’ve said it yourself. You’re the errand boy, the one they send to do the dirty work. You can’t, you can’t promise me that.”

“Then what can I?” Taehyung asks, his grip tightening. The shadows under his eyes are deep, nearly as purple as the bruise that rings his eye, but his gaze has never been clearer. “What can I promise you, that you’ll accept?”

And Jeongguk… doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to say what they both know is the only answer that will work here - because they both know ‘leave’ wasn’t an option long before they ever met. He doesn’t want to voice the last option Taehyung has, and the most dangerous of them all. He doesn’t want to manifest the thing that will both make all their problems go away while simultaneously giving them even more.

But he can’t just walk away from this, from Taehyung. He can’t throw away the best thing that’s ever happened to him, no matter how terrified he is. He doesn’t think he would ever recover if he did.

“If you’re gonna do this,” Jeongguk starts, his voice barely more than a whisper, “then you need to do it right. ” Taehyung pulls him in closer, getting rid of the last few inches between them. The kiss is chaste, Jeongguk already pulling away before Taehyung can push it any further. “You put this fucking city under your heel and only yours. You better be the meanest fucking thing it’s ever seen.”

“I can be mean,” Taehyung says, the gravel of his voice pulling Jeongguk in again, the kiss harder this time, a little longer. “I’ll make this whole country know my name,” he says, searing his sincerity against Jeongguk’s mouth, his words melting into another kiss, and another. “We’ll be fucking untouchable,” he promises and Jeongguk finally pushes Taehyung back into the bed. His boyfriend hooks his arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders, unwilling to let him pull away even another inch.

“You promise?” Jeongguk breathes, their lips brushing with every word, and Taehyung’s eyes are dark in the shadow of Jeongguk’s body, the grip of his fingers in Jeongguk’s hair grounding him in place.

“Til the day we die,” Taehyung says, and Jeongguk intends to hold him to it.