Chapter Text
Company of Wolves
Chapter 1: Hunting Ground
Rain fell all around him, so loud that it sounded like a roar. The first time Jungkook had laid eyes on him, the boy was covered in bruises, standing out in the storm alone. He had thought to himself, a brief idea, that maybe he should turn around and run away. But then the boy had turned and seen him, amber eyes sharper than Jungkook had ever seen on anyone else. Jungkook remembers giving in to him, surrendering some part of him that will forever belong to the boy.
And it was the start of something truly despicable.
…
“What do you know about Kim Taehyung?”
Jungkook is nervous; a bead of sweat makes its way down his temple. The man facing him is stern, broad, and powerful enough to kick Jungkook out of the police force with just one word. He focuses on the question hanging between them, the weight of it settling on his chest. Jungkook has to clear his throat once.
“He was a classmate, sir. In elementary school,” Jungkook answers, a frown playing on his brows.
Namjoon stares at him intently. “What was he like? His family life? Were you close with him?”
Jungkook swallows. “Sir, can I ask why you need this information? He-”
“Went missing, I know,” Namjoon finishes for him, almost impatiently. He suddenly gestures for Jungkook to sit in the chair across from his desk. Namjoon’s office is terrifying and huge, all signs of his power in the police department. Jungkook feels like an ant in his presence. The older dumps a box onto the desk, the thud of it almost making Jungkook’s heart slap out of his ribcage. After a minute of rummaging, Namjoon hands him a case file. The crisp edges of the yellow folder indicates that it’s a new case, probably reopened that same week. “I want you to take a look. Tell me if that really is him.”
Jungkook’s hands tremble as he opens the file and comes face to face with pictures upon pictures of the one man he swore to find. He gulps, eyes wide. Taehyung (Tae, Hyungie, Honey Bear) dressed in all black, Taehyung sitting in a club, Taehyung with his head inclined towards another mystery man in the dim light of the auction room, Taehyung sitting on a yacht with his hair whipping in all directions. He’s older and taller and much more beautiful than Jungkook remembers, but it’s him alright. Kim Taehyung.
“Jeon.” Jungkook can’t tear his eyes away from the photos. “Is that him?”
He’s nodding before he even realizes. “Yes. That’s him.”
Namjoon hums.
“We thought so.” He hands Jungkook another file, this one much older with soft worn edges. “Are you familiar with the bombing at the Seven Luck Casino in Seoul?”
That has Jungkook looking up in confusion.
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“Then you know about Kim Seokjin and Jaewon?”
Jungkook feels like he has to impress Namjoon somehow. “Yes, sir. Kim Seokjin was the lead detective on the case, and when he tracked Jaewon down at the Casino, Jaewon bombed the whole place. Seokjin barely survived.”
Namjoon nods curtly before sitting down in his own chair. He folds his hands together and leans in. Jungkook places the files onto the desk, feeling an anticipation claw in his gut.
“Let me explain; you must be entirely confused,” Namjoon says. “Jaewon is tied to both the bombing and Taehyung. We have undercover cops telling us they’ve seen Kim Taehyung around various places that Jaewon frequents. The Club Narcissus, that Jaewon owns, is run by Taehyung himself.”
Jungkook pulls out the picture of Taehyung reclining in a club lounge. The image is a bit blurry and black and white, perhaps a quick snap from a security camera that someone managed to get their hands on. The man is dressed up nicely. He looks wealthy. Jungkook can’t make out his face clearly, but he’s sure the man has makeup on.
“I’m reopening the Seven Luck Casino case, and I need the best of the best to work with.” Namjoon meets his eyes. “I heard you were top of the academy while you were a trainee.”
Jungkook nods, a little proud of that title. “Yes, sir. I plan to keep that reputation.”
A ghost of a smile falls on Namjoon’s lips. For a second, Jungkook can see the kindness in his time hardened eyes.
“Good, because you have the most important role.”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“I’m planning on tracking down Jaewon once and for all.” Namjoon states, casually like it’s something normal.
Jungkook stares at him. “Sir. Jaewon is a phantom. Kim Seokjin couldn’t even catch him.”
Namjoon’s eyes harden a little, and Jungkook has to force a grimace to smooth over.
“I am aware of that, Jeon. But Seokjin didn’t have a lead like Taehyung. This could be what that topples Jaewon.”
“Sir, I’m a rookie,” Jungkook says. “Why would you want me on your team?”
“You know Taehyung personally.” He doesn’t wait for Jungkook’s nod. “I need you to get close to him and gather information. Exploit him if you have to.”
Jungkook feels a twinge of fear.
“You want me to use him?” His voice comes out meek, like he’s reverted back to the little Jungkook who met Tae for the first time. Namjoon studies him with curiosity.
“I want you to go undercover to catch a very bad man,” he eventually replies. “Are you willing to try?”
Jungkook feels like he doesn’t really have a choice, not with the way Namjoon is burning holes into him with his eyes. But for Taehyung, he’s willing to do anything.
“Yes, sir, I am.”
…
Jungkook remembers that Taehyung was a victim of poverty. He remembers that the boy was lonely and beautiful, one of the loveliest things Jungkook had ever seen. He can still smell the rain on Tae’s warm skin, see the bruises that marred his golden skin. They planned to run away and get married and have lots of squirmy whiny kids. Taehyung wanted to live quietly, as peacefully as it could get. Jungkook was in love with him, and he’s sure Taehyung felt the same.
The day Kim Taehyung went missing was the day Jungkook lost a piece of himself. He remembers the rush of grief he felt when the authorities chalked his disappearance up as some rebellious kid eager to get out of dodge. It had been laughably sunny and bright outside that day, and Jungkook had thought it was all some sort of cruel joke. With his heart on his sleeve and a raw ache in his body, he made himself a promise that he’ll find Taehyung and bring him home. Home- in Jungkook’s arms, Tae tucked safely under his chin.
As life would have it, Jungkook doesn’t even realize how naive he had been.
…
The first attempt to engage with Taehyung is a flop .
Club Narcissus emits neon purple.
There’s a glowing logo the shape of a white mask, a single black tear sliding down its cheek. Jungkook blinks up at the building, taking in the decadence of the place, the way it exudes money. The first thing he smells is roses- burning, red, venomous roses. He carefully starts the recorder in his pocket, just as he enters the club. Vines of thornly roses curl onto pillars all across the interior. Jungkook keeps an eye out for that face, feeling uneasiness crawling up his spine with how many wolves there are lurking in here. Club Narcissus has been the hub for sex and drug trade for years, and anyone involved in the underground is allowed entrance.
It’s surprisingly easy to find his target. Jungkook catches sight of rich red, a color so inviting in a place as dark as this, and makes his way over. There are people already gathered there, all of them looking serious and intimidating. The red Jungkook follows belongs to a gorgeous robe embroidered with sequined black roses. Of course, the one wearing it is none other than Taehyung. He’s devastatingly beautiful but so different that Jungkook has to question if this is the Tae Tae that he’s still desperately in love with. The man is tall, so tall he might even surpass Jungkook now, and sitting there on the leather couch with so much grace. Jungkook’s mouth feels dry, his throat croaky with fright, as he bides his time and waits for Tae to be mostly alone.
They’re chatting about something; one man gets angry, face swelling red with blood. Taehyung gazes up at him with hooded eyes, calm written all over him even when the man stands up abruptly. Jungkook sits a couple tables away, ears strained to hear them, but when Taehyung speaks, his voice is drowned out by the music. The angry man grits his teeth and leaves, his men trailing behind him obediently. Taehyung drums his fingers on the arm of the couch and stares off into space, contemplative. Jungkook decides now is the only time he’s gonna get.
To be honest, he doesn’t know what he expected, but it definitely isn’t this. Taehyung catches sight of him suddenly, eyes frozen to where Jungkook is making his way over. And then he’s moving, getting up and turning to go, lips parting around something he says to his bodyguards. Jungkook doesn’t hear it, and Taehyung’s red robe disappears among the crowds of people. When Jungkook runs to catch up, someone holds an arm out, preventing him from going any further. He sees Taehyung being escorted into an elevator.
The last thing he sees before the doors slide close is Taehyung’s amber eyes, pinning him with an unreadable look. Jungkook can already hear Namjoon’s disappointed voice.
…
He dunks the empty donut box into the trash and steps on the gas. It’s weird seeing Namjoon dressed in uniform and sitting next to him in the car. The man looks… younger. Much much younger and with less on his shoulders. It’s been weeks since the incident with Taehyung- or rather, the lack of incident. They’ve been following a ghost trail, no real traceable leads on either Taehyung or Jaewon. Jungkook still wonders about the look Taehyung had given him, devoid of any acknowledgement or recognition. Namjoon had been just as confused.
Jungkook gets a history lesson from their little operation unit, most of them older and wiser than Jungkook. He learns that Kim Seokjin was only able to get so close to Jaewon because of his underground past and his odd relationship with Jaewon. The officers keep talking about how Seokjin was a genius, using everything he learned back in the day to track down old partners and dealers within the span of a couple years- a feat that garnered him so much fame and admiration, they promoted him assistant chief on the spot. Jungkook tries not to focus on the fact that he and Namjoon are basically empty handed this time round, working only with the prospect that Jungkook might be able to get some information out of Taehyung. Might is even pushing it.
They speed down the highway to get to another radio call, and Jungkook sneaks a glance at Namjoon, wondering why exactly he’s so obsessed with this case in particular. Namjoon talks about Seokjin like he’s a god- something to be revered. Jungkook’s never met Seokjin before, but in his mind, he pictures an older man, probably with a perpetual frown on his face. This street hardened, vengeful man who was on the brink of the biggest bust of the century. He probably has a huge scar or some other mar on his face from that explosion.
“What are you looking at me like that for?”
Jungkook tightens his grip on the steering wheel.
“Sorry, sir, I was just thinking.”
“Something you’d like to share?” Namjoon is relatively calm, that almost smile on his lips again.
Jungkook purses his lips, taking the next exit off the highway. “Yes, sir. How do you know Seokjin, sir?”
Namjoon sucks in a deep breath, eyes following a couple cars to make sure no one’s doing anything illegal.
“He was my partner at some point. I trained under him when I was a rookie.”
“Really?” Jungkook exclaims, eyes blowing into round spheres. “That’s a huge honor!”
Namjoon smiles for real this time, sudden dimples making his eyes softer and friendlier. Jungkook much prefers this look on him over the stern, manic mode he gets into when they’re discussing the bombing.
“It really was,” he agrees, and Jungkook feels like he’s drifting a thousand miles away. “He was a dream.”
His choice of words catches Jungkook off guard, but he chooses not to comment on it. Namjoon doesn’t even look like he’s in the present when they talk about Seokjin, always looking like he’s being transported to the past. It must be a happy memory, something only understood between partners. They pull into the house from the radio call, and Jungkook puts the conversation behind them.
…
It was supposed to be a regular drug bust. Someone called in with a tip that they had seen suspicious people going in and out of a house after hours. A little bit of digging later, they figured out the people behind the drug trades. The place is located on the richest side of the city, a big house in a gated community with a private driveway and tennis court. The cops go about it quietly, sneaking into the mansion to avoid detection, Jungkook there with Namjoon at his side. The first couple of junkies they arrest are compliant, surrendering easily. They look young; one of the girls half naked and stoned.
“Are there more of you? Any weapons?”
No to the weapons, but they nod upstairs, and Namjoon gestures for Jungkook to follow him. Backup follows silently. Without making any noise, they scale the grand staircase and get to a wide hall. Every room leading to the master bedroom is empty, and Jungkook worries his lip raw as they approach the last door. The mansion is beautiful and old money. Jungkook wonders if the owner is some sort of drug boss. Namjoon gently presses an ear to the door and tries to twist the knob (of course it’s locked), his expression morphing into something that Jungkook doesn’t understand.
“Count of three,” Namjoon mouths, and Jungkook gets ready to bust the door down. The other cops get into position. “1… 2… 3!”
Jungkook kicks as hard as he can at the space next to the knob. They burst in, yelling and guns drawn. It’s not a scene Jungkook expects to walk into, but he’s quick to respond to the situation. There are three older men, dicks out, crowding a figure on the bed. One of the guys is on top of the figure, and Jungkook catches sight of milky white legs. The cops grab each of them, Namjoon being the one to personally yank the guy off. It’s chaos everywhere, and the men are protesting, proclaiming their innocence. Jungkook approaches the person in bed, and all the air is knocked out of his lungs.
It’s a boy, freshly fucked and flushed all over. He’s pale and pretty (stunning, actually) and young . Jungkook is almost scared to ask him for his age. Instead, he grabs a discarded robe laying on the floor and hands it over. The boy smiles sweetly, plush lips glistening with spit. Jungkook can’t help but stare as the boy sits up gingerly, thick semen running down his thighs and dripping onto the bed sheets beneath him. He puts the robe on, leaving it untied, and glances back at Jungkook with curiosity playing in his cresented eyes. When the guys are taken care of, Namjoon comes back with an annoyed expression.
“Are you part of their gang? Any gang?” He asks, eyes raking over the boy. A shake of the head. “Are you ok?”
The kid hums in reply, smiling.
Namjoon frowns. “What’s in your mouth?” And then his mouth becomes an ‘o’. “Jeon, give him something to spit in.”
Jungkook goes to the bathroom and finds napkins, rushing over to hand it to the boy. Namjoon is talking to another cop, figuring out when the canine unit will get here to sniff out drugs hidden in the house. The boy merely smiles up at Jungkook and swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. He’s obscene to look at: cum all over his thighs (crusted on his ass), face as pink as his hair, body glistening with sweat. Jungkook swallows hard right after him. The boy sticks out his tongue.
“Aren’t you gonna praise me?” His voice is high pitched and sweet, almost to the point of unnatural. When Jungkook continues gaping at him, he laughs just as sweetly. “I’m just joking.”
He gets up and searches for his clothes. Namjoon walks over just as the kid finds his pants with a happy cry.
“Kid, come here,” Namjoon calls, logging into the laptop someone gave him. The boy carries his clothes over, shedding the robe unabashedly to use it to wipe the cum off his legs. He tosses it aside and starts dressing. “So what are you? A prostitute?”
“No, it’s just a hookup,” the kid lies, tugging on jeans so tight they might as well be second skin. “What do you take me for?”
Jungkook sees Namjoon’s jaw tighten, annoyance seeping back into his features.
“I’m the only one asking questions, kid. What’s your name? How old are you?”
“Jimin. I’m 25,” he says, pretending to be busy buttoning his shirt. Namjoon narrows his eyes.
“You know how this goes, Jimin. What’s your last name?”
Jimin pouts. “Min,” he says after a beat.
A flicker of something passes over Namjoon’s expression. “ Min ?”
Jimin sighs, slipping into his socks and shoes. “Didn’t I just tell you?”
Namjoon tsks and taps away on his laptop. “ Min Jimin.”
“Yes, daddy?” Jimin asks, rolling his eyes. Namjoon doesn’t take the bait. Jungkook looks between the two, confused. “Am I being arrested?”
Namjoon looks up, that same weird expression on his face. “No, you’re not.”
“So am I free to go?” Jimin hiding something, Jungkook can see through it. He’s acting like he’s not nervous, resting a hand on his hip with feigned nonchalance.
Namjoon shrugs. “I suppose.”
“Great!” Jimin shoots up, snatching his bag off the nightstand. He turns to go, sparing one last glance at Jungkook. “Bye, Officer Jeon.”
He’s gone, and Namjoon jumps into action. He gestures Jungkook over and whispers into his ear.
“Track him. That’s not his name, and he’s hiding something.”
Jungkook glances at the laptop, eyebrow raising at the name in the computer.
…
Jungkook tracks 23 year old prostitute Park Jimin all the way home to his ratty little apartment complex. Jungkook follows Namjoon’s orders for a week, and by the end of it, he has Jimin’s schedule memorized. Jimin’s creepy landlord, who lives in the same complex, always (and Jungkook means every single day ) gropes him in the early afternoon when Jimin has to go out. It’s usually 2 or 3 o’clock when Jimin starts hustling. Jungkook follows in an inconspicuous vehicle, eyes following the man’s petite figure as he goes in and out of various places. Casinos, hotels, someone’s home. Jungkook makes a note that Jimin never takes more than 5 clients a day.
Today, he watches a woman, the wife, leave the house before Jimin trots up and rings the doorbell. Jungkook checks his watch. It should be half an hour, and Jimin will be on his merry way to his next client. Exactly 32 minutes later, Jimin is bounding down the steps and skipping off. He’s pretty cute, Jungkook will admit that. Jimin has a sort of childish charm about him that’s so tantalizing for the older men who miss casual company and a pretty little plaything.
At the end of the day, Jungkook reports back to Namjoon, who is busy leaving the station, again . Jungkook wonders if Namjoon has urgent family issues to attend to because the man is always leaving the police station quarter to six. He places his file onto Namjoon’s desk as Namjoon slips into a jacket and grabs his folders before rushing out the door with a “good work, Jeon”. Jungkook sighs and refrains from kicking the man’s desk.
…
“Jackpot.”
Jimin disappears inside the Club Narcissus, his pink hair striking in the dark club. Jungkook rushes to follow, slamming his car door and nodding at the bouncers. His eyes adjust to the dimness, and he looks around, almost frantic. His heart starts pounding in his chest when he spots him- pretty pink Jimin climbing onto Taehyung’s lap, most of them obscured behind a mesh curtain. Jungkook feels like he’s suffocating just looking at Tae. The man is clad in emerald today- a matching pants and suit jacket that looks like it’s worth all of Jungkook and more. The two of them are chatting, Taehyung’s hands looking huge and powerful splayed on Jimin’s tiny waist. Jimin looks in his element, ass directly on Tae’s crotch and arms around the other man’s neck.
Jungkook has to swallow his shock and figure out a plan of action. They look like old friends, he takes note. Namjoon will want answers from Jimin, and Jungkook wonders if Jimin will feel betrayed when Jungkook tattles. He makes his way closer and closer, imagining Jimin’s high voice and wanting to find out how Taehyung’s voice has matured through the years. If it’s anything as divine as his face. For a second, Jungkook’s view of them is blocked partially by a marble pillar covered in thorny roses, and he swears he sees Jimin kissing Tae. His body goes on autopilot, red in his eyes, until he’s ripping the mesh curtain out of the way and stepping into their sectioned off space. Jimin jolts in shock, just as Taehyung lets out a little gasp. Jungkook finds that his mind is blank, words refusing to come out, standing so close to him.
“You- Taehyung. I-.”
Then, as if he doesn’t want to hear what Jungkook has to say, Taehyung shakes his head and cranes his neck to look for his bodyguards. Jungkook frowns because there is no way in hell that Kim Taehyung is turning him away again. Not after all these years of work that it took Jungkook to get here. He advances closer to them, and Taehyung is frozen, terrified. Jimin shields Taehyung from him just as the bodyguards arrive, ripping Jungkook away and hauling his ass out of the club.
“I just want to talk,” Jungkook yelps, turning his head back just in time to see Tae scribbling something on a piece of paper. “Taehyung, you know me!”
The bodyguard throws him out onto the concrete, and Jungkook groans at the feeling of his body hitting the ground. The cherry on top of his shitty night comes in the form of a crumpled ball of paper someone throws that hits him square in the chest. Jungkook jumps up, but the bouncers slam the door in his face. And for the hundredth time that week, Jungkook heaves a deep sigh, squatting down and hiding his face in his knees. He snatches the crumpled ball off the ground and unfurls it, eyes widening at the words Taehyung had written hastily. If you know what’s good for you, forget me .
Jungkook runs a hand through his hair and picks himself up, one track mind only focused on bringing Jimin in for questioning.
…
Namjoon watches Jimin through the glass, a contemplative look on his serious face. Jungkook hands him his cup of already cold coffee. He glances over at where Jimin sits, eyes on the ceiling like he’s got more important places to be.
“What next?” Jungkook asks. Namjoon chews his lip, still staring.
“Round two.”
They enter the room again, but Jimin keeps his eyes trained upwards, arms crossed defensively. Jungkook can see a bead of sweat trickle down the man’s temple. It’s a little warm in the interrogation room. Namjoon takes a seat across from Jimin once more, folding his hands neatly on the table.
“So? Ready to talk now, Mister Park?” He asks, voice calm, but Jungkook knows him well enough by now to hear the impatience there.
Jimin rolls his eyes and looks at him. “I already told you. I don-”
“Don’t know shit. Right,” Namjoon cuts him off. “And I know you’re lying.”
“Look, officer. There’s no reason for me to lie. It doesn’t help me, and it certainly doesn’t help with your very important investigation,” Jimin says, still looking at ease despite the sweat on his brow. His high pitched voice sounds like bells. “You’re wasting your time.”
Namjoon chuckles darkly.
“You lied about your name, age, and profession. Why should I even give you an ounce of trust?”
Jimin doesn’t reply to that. Instead, he huffs and looks at Jungkook and smiles sweetly.
“Can I smoke a cigarette?”
Jungkook nods, and Jimin takes a pack out of his jean pocket. He lights one, releasing a puff of smoke before eyeing Namjoon again. Namjoon waits for him to take another puff before leaning in.
“Jimin, let’s not waste anymore of your time or mine. You were at Club Narcissus last night,” he states, not giving Jimin a second to protest before continuing. “You were on Kim Taehyung’s lap, and you were kissing him.”
Jimin shakes his head, eyes on the ceiling again.
“I wasn’t at Club Narcissus last night, and I don’t know a Kim Taehyung.”
Namjoon’s jaw twitches, and Jungkook has to step forward and lay a hand on his shoulder to keep him from exploding. Jungkook wonders again why this case has Namjoon so riled up. Namjoon has to take a deep breath to calm himself.
“Either you start giving me some answers or I can toss your ass into jail for the whole week. Officer Jeon says he saw you with his own eyes.” Namjoon raises his voice.
Jimin narrows his eyes, a snarl on his lips as he pushes himself up in the chair.
“That’s all the proof you have, Officer Kim?” Gone with his airy voice. Jimin runs a hand through his hair, tossing Jungkook a grimaced look. “Just a cop who claims I was there?”
He takes another lungful of smoke and blows it out in Namjoon’s face. The officer waves the smoke out of his eyes furiously and grabs Jimin’s wrist. Jimin yelps in pain and tries to twist his arm out, but Namjoon’s grip on him is vice-like. His cigarette falls onto the table. Jungkook bites his tongue hard to keep out of Namjoon’s interrogation, hands itching to do something .
“You think you’re so smart, invincible because you know a couple guys underground. At the end of the day, Park, all you have is your body and your reputation. This time, I’ll make sure you can’t sleep your way out of it.”
He all but flings Jimin’s arm away, and Jimin jumps up abruptly, face beet red. He gets right into Namjoon’s face, jabbing a finger into Namjoon’s chest.
“You do not scare me, you hear me?” he yells, angry tears in his eyes. “I’ve been hustling for over ten years, and I’ve fucked with men bigger and badder than you!”
Jungkook steps in now, gently pulling Jimin off and setting him back into his chair. Jimin wipes a tear away, panting hard. He glowers at Namjoon from his seat, looking so tiny and vulnerable. Jungkook hands him a box of tissues, and Jimin rips a couple out to pat his sweat away.
“You sure as hell aren’t gonna get anything out of me with that attitude,” Jimin says, voice a little hoarse. He picks up his discarded cigarette and starts to smoke it again. The table is imprinted by its flame.
Jungkook presses his lips together, frantically thinking of something he can do, anything to get the atmosphere lighter. He ushers Namjoon out of the room with him and shuts the door behind them. Namjoon rubs his face, looking like he’s aged many more years just from that conversation alone. Jungkook feels a wave of worry catapult through him when Namjoon buries his face into his hands and lets out a strangled “fuck”. Instead of just standing around, Jungkook decides to get Jimin a cup of coffee, pouring a fresh batch for him and grabbing a few sugar and creamer packets.
“Sir, I’m gonna get him some coffee. Are you ok?”
Namjoon doesn’t look up, but Jungkook sees him nodding. “I’m okay. Yeah, just… let him be for a bit.”
Jungkook nods and remembers that Namjoon can’t see him. “Yes, sir. I’ll do that, sir.”
Namjoon waves him off, still buried in his hands. Jungkook wonders if he feels guilty.
He knocks lightly on the door before opening it and peeking in. Jimin spares him a look. Jungkook clears his throat and holds the coffee out like a peace offering. The smell of it fills the little room.
“I thought you might need something to drink,” he tries, voice meek. Jimin sniffles, watching him set the coffee down along with the sugar and creamer. “I didn’t know how you like your coffee.”
“Thanks,” Jimin says, voice sweet again. He rips the sugar packets with his teeth and dumps them all in with one hand. His other hand is occupied with his cigarette. No creamer, Jungkook notices. Jimin takes a tentative sip and grimaces.
“Can I have more sugar?”
“Uhh, yeah. Just a sec.”
Jungkook runs out and grabs a couple before rushing back in. Jimin can’t help but let out a little giggle at his rushiness and makes a grabby hand at the sugar. Jungkook hands it to him and watches him add 2 sugars to the 3 he already poured. Jimin drinks it with a smile and then turns the smile up at Jungkook.
“What’s your first name, Officer Jeon?”
Jungkook blinks dumbly at him. “Sorry?”
Jimin’s smile grows wider. “Your name, Officer.”
“Jungkook,” he says, shaking his head at himself. “Jeon Jungkook.”
Jimin mirrors his nod and drinks his coffee. After a few beats, Jungkook considers leaving the room to give Jimin some time alone, but then the other is talking again.
“I won’t give any answers to Officer Kim,” he begins. “But if it’s you, Jungkook, I might talk.”
Jungkook stares at him again. Jimin throws him another honey smile. For a second, Jungkook can almost see Namjoon’s ears perking up. He’s sure Namjoon is pressed close to the glass, waiting to see what comes next. Jimin slants his eyes to look at him, taking one last huff of smoke before pressing the cigarette butt back onto the burn mark on the table from earlier, extinguishing it completely. His eyes are almost the same amber that Jungkook dreams about deep into the night.
He remembers giving in to him, surrendering some part of him that will forever belong to the boy.
And it is the start of something truly despicable.