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The problem with Jimin was that Jimin was a problem, and when something was a problem, Taehyung usually removed it. No, actually-- the fundamental problem with Jimin was that he existed. Because if Jimin didn't exist, Taehyung wouldn't be nursing a bleeding lip and a bruised cheek from the seventh edge of hell right now. And no, it wasn't Jimin's doing-- Jimin always had others do his dirty work for him. So what if Taehyung owed one of his guys money? They were fucking hooligans; they owed everyone money. Apparently Jimin was just anal about him in particular. But he hadn't expected Yoongi to show up while he took a cigarette break between English and Maths and knock him into next week, taking a tooth with him. His favourite fucking tooth.
He could easily get him back. He could start a full out brawl in the courtyard and make sure at least half of Jimin's boys left with painful limps while pinning it all on them to the school principal, but that wasn't the kind of guy Taehyung was. He was better than that. He had better plans.
Plans like pulling Jimin into an empty classroom when nobody was looking and locking the door, a strained hand covering his mouth and his elbow pressing painfully into the smaller male's throat. He could feel the hairs rise at the back of Jimin's neck, the stout boy fighting hard but gradually losing as he tuckered out, panting into Taehyung's long fingers. He could feel saliva seeping through.
"Easy," Taehyung hissed, kicking the boy in the back to get him to pipe down. Jimin grunted, his knees buckling as Taehyung finally got him down on the floor.
Technically, Jimin and Taehyung had gone to the same school since elementary. Technically, Taehyung had nothing against Jimin. But technicalities were kind of irrelevant when Jimin had the nerve to look up at him like he was a fucking lunatic.
"Coward. You're a fuckin' coward, Park Jimin," he started, laughing at the dishevelled mess on the floor and wondering if he'd ever seen something so satisfying. Jimin's blazer had been thrown open during his thrashing, his shirt pulled out of his pants where he always had it snugly tucked away. "What're you gonna do now that the big boys aren't here to protect ya, hm?" He pulled Jimin's hair back, emphasizing his question. Jimin flinched, then gave him the dirtiest look Taehyung had ever seen, and he only got to blink his eyes once or twice before said boy spat right in his face, jerking out of Taehyung's hold.
Taehyung was stunned silent for a little while, blinking a few times before wiping his face with the back of his hand. This was, ironically, one of the many things he liked about Park Jimin. Pesky fucking firecracker. It was annoying but it kept him from being bored. He smiled.
"Kinky."
Jimin rolled his eyes, still trying to catch his breath on the ground while he kept staring at the door. Taehyung stepped into his line of vision, unamused.
"What? You mute now?" He asked, satisfied with how his heavy dialect bent his words. If the others had a lilt, he had a swing, taking after his father and finding a way to make everything sound expressive. "You weren't so damn mute when Yoongi stuck it to you in the bathroom last Friday," he spat, lying through his teeth to try to make Jimin say something. Anything. He didn't. "C'mon, defend yourself! You know I just made that up. This is boring."
He kicked Jimin's thigh, the latter wincing but keeping his eyes at the door. Taehyung groaned, grabbing Jimin's chin and yanking it up. He returned the favour from earlier and spat down on Jimin's face, flecking his mouth and making the latter squeeze his eyes shut. He could see him breathing through his nose, straining to keep his lips sealed to keep Taehyung's saliva out.
"Be honest with me-- is Yoongi fuckin' you?" He asked, musing to himself as he looked down at Jimin's now slick lips, feeling a violent urge to punch them. He should have done that already. He should have bruised his face and dislocated his arm by now, but he was stalling, and he didn't know why. As if someone would come in and see them, even with the door locked. "Is that how you get him to jump whenever you say so? Is that the secret behind your success? Because you're not so impressive sitting at dick-height in front of me right now." He felt himself getting irrationally aggressive, the last part spat out rather harshly. He slapped Jimin hard in the face for good measure, watching sweat rip from his cheeks as he did so. It was loud, and loud ones left a mark. He couldn't wait for it to leave a fucking mark.
Truthfully, Jimin was nothing without his henchmen. Luckily, Taehyung had found out a long time ago what could make mountains move and corpses dance, and only had to wave about a wad of cash he'd stolen before the dumbfucks stepped aside, leaving Jimin vulnerable before him. So much for loyalty and pledging allegiance. So much for Jimin's power. Jimin wasn't good with close combat. Jimin wasn't good with anything. His parents were rich and gave him everything he ever wanted, so he was spoiled rotten. Taehyung's family had had to fight for their every meal. Geochang had the worst income disparity for miles, and Taehyung never wanted anyone to forget it.
Out of his back pocket Taehyung produced a small switchblade, flicking it and letting the light hit the side just right for the shiny blade to glint in Jimin's eyes. When the knife came out, Jimin's demeanour seemed to change, and suddenly he wasn't so angry, but rather resigned to his spot on the floor, arms finding purchase on his knees. He wasn't pleading yet, so maybe Taehyung had underestimated him.
"You scared?" Taehyung teased, running his index over the smooth part of the blade and inhaling as the cold touch met his warm skin. He could see Jimin eyeing him cautiously, the knife perfectly reflected in his dark irises.
"No."
"You're shaking," Taehyung whispered, reaching down to rest the knife right by Jimin's slim neck. Jimin flinched but remained otherwise still, holding Taehyung's gaze. He did admire his stubbornness, if he had to find something to admire.
"No I'm not."
"Stop lying to me," Taehyung whispered, toying the blade down Jimin's pristine school uniform. He hated how perfect he was. Stupid fuckin' perfect face and pretty fuckin' teeth. He always smelled like fresh laundry, and he knew the smell of cigarettes was from Yoongi and not him. He smelled of spearmint gum and lavender tea and it was too pretty to back up his tough guy claims. It was the exact opposite of Taehyung. "Beg me to spare you and I won't hurt you. Much."
Jimin frowned, still trying to edge away from the blade, but Taehyung held him in place, several of his fingers twisted into his soft locks. He let the knife cut up a line of buttons in his school uniform, 'accidentally' grazing his exposed nipple on the way down. Jimin whimpered, looking south with comically wide eyes as he checked on his bleeding bud. It was the tiniest trickle of blood Taehyung had ever seen. Usually he settled for a long slash up someone's cheek to let them be reminded every day of what had happened and who had done it, but that would be too easy. Anyone could do that. What not everyone could do was have his tact and technicality.
"Oops," he said mockingly, reaching his thumb down to smear the small beads of blood down over his ribs. "Did Jiminnie get an ouchie?"
He was met with a scowl, and could see how the smaller boy was itching to get him back, his puny brain trying to work out what to do and how to avoid getting a knife in his side. Just as he thought he'd figured Jimin out, a sharp pain erupted in his skull as Jimin head-butted him with all his might, yelling and watching the knife fly away. Taehyung cursed colourfully, blinking his eyes as fast as he could to clear his vision while seeing Jimin lunge for the switchblade a few paces away from him. He kicked blindly, feeling his foot come in contact with something hard and recognizing it as Jimin's head, watching the smaller boy's neck bend back awkwardly before he slumped down on the floor.
Gathering himself and scrambling on the floor for the knife, Taehyung quickly sat down on top of the smaller male and pressed the knife warningly up to his throat. He panted, feeling blood pool out of his nose and over his lips. Jimin had gotten him good, he'd give him that. Perhaps the only impressive move he'd seen from Jimin his whole life.
"Slimy, little fuck," Taehyung gritted out, happy when he realized Jimin was bleeding from his nose too, eyes closed as he looked like he was knocked out cold. "That wasn't such a good fuckin' idea, was it?"
Jimin whimpered, mouth twitching and his eyes struggling to stay open. Taehyung faintly wondered if he'd given him a concussion, and felt satisfied with that, his hatred for Jimin growing by the second as the little fuck struggled to breathe. He leaned in to his ear, making sure he heard him well as he spoke.
"Just give up," he whispered, smiling at the way Jimin instinctively flinched away from his voice. "This is your last warning. If you send anyone for me again I'm gonna fuck you up so bad nobody would ever be able to recognize you." He had his hands gripping Jimin's head, hissing at him so hard his breath moved his hair.
Jimin was quiet, and Taehyung grew satisfied with that, pulling back and shoving his switchblade into his pocket. He faintly saw Jimin wiggle on the floor, then heard him whine at the back of his throat, leaning closer to look at him. He traced his eyes down his roughened shirt and settled at the peak of his slacks, spotting a small tenting in the very front. He froze.
His first reaction was shock. Shock that it was happening and shock that it was with him, his hands not really knowing what to do as he just sat there on his knees, looking at it. His second reaction was the disgust settling in the pit if his stomach, his head spinning as he computed that Jimin had gotten hard from whatever he had done-- fuck, what was it even? How did you get hard form something like that?
Taehyung got back on his feet, staring at Jimin's face, as if the explanation would be written there somewhere just for him. Jimin wasn't looking at him, rather staring at the floor and curling himself up to best hide his accident. There was a silence between them that swam through the smell of sweat and blood, creeping over the distance from Jimin to Taehyung's feet and settling in Taehyung's usually chatty throat.
"Don't...d-don't say anything."
It was a plea. Jimin still wasn't looking at him. Taehyung let is feet walk him back to the door, unlocking it and slipping out as fast as his human form would let him.
*
The problem with Geochang was the heat and the lack of places to go and things to do during said heat. Twenty-eight degrees and his ass was stuck in bed to suffer, glaring at the small fan in his room that barely breathed on him. He hadn't been bothered to go to school today. He'd gotten into his uniform, but the weather fucked him up and he'd ripped off his blazer, leaving himself to sweat through his shirt while he smelled his mom's cooking wafting up from downstairs.
He lit a cigarette, inhaling so hard the end glowed fiercely until half of it ashed off on his bedside table, keeping the smoke in his lungs long enough to burn in a hope of trying to forget how moist he was with sweat. His nose still hurt from yesterday, his lip from the day before, and essentially his face was a calendar that helped him keep track of which days he had and hadn't been to school. Today would leave no mark. He lifted his head ever so slightly to catch his reflection in his fish tank, groaning because it would be a miracle of he wasn't permanently disfigured by the age of thirty.
A sharp vibration next to him and a flashing name on his phone screen told him Hoseok was calling, probably to ask him how yesterday had gone. He didn't want to talk about yesterday, but he did want to talk to Hoseok, so his heavy hand lifted his old flip-phone up to his ear while he croaked a 'hello' through a new inhale of nicotine.
"Heard you got fucked up," came a snickering voice from the other end, and suddenly he regretted opening a conversation between them at all.
"Fuck off, Hoseok."
"Did he really get you, though? The little shrimp?"
"Slightly. Just my nose."
"Fuck me. And you had a knife on him," Hoseok said. Taehyung heard a cackling laughter in the background, ugly enough to rival Maleficent and all the other Evil combined.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. He has a head made of fuckin' steel, alright?" Taehyung brushed him off with, flicking his cigarette butt on the floor to join the others while he finally sat up, his head throbbing. He didn't know why he was feeling so shit today. "So, how's Namjoon doing with the bickies?"
"The Daegu run?" Hoseok asked, a few loud noises in the background telling Taehyung they were piling into a classroom. It was getting distracting.
"Yeah."
"He hates you, for one," Hoseok laughed, his voice growing gradually quieter as he kept speaking. Taehyung chewed on his bottom lip, well aware of what Hoseok was going to say next. "He's never swallowed that many bullets. They were big, too."
"That's why he's getting a sixty cut. I know it's hard," Taehyung insisted. He'd packed the condoms himself, ensuring they stuffed as many ecstasy pills in each one as they could. Namjoon had always had a bad gag reflex, so making him down them in their school bathroom had been a nightmare, but he was already halfway across the county, smuggling them to inmates in a Daegu correctional facility. They always paid out the ass, and Taehyung reaped the benefits. "Anyways, just make sure he sells all of them."
"You know, something tells me Jimin would make a good mule," Hoseok remarked with an amused voice, and Taehyung narrowed his eyes, immediately assaulted with images of Hoseok shoving filled condoms down Jimin's throat. Was he implying that Jimin didn't have a gag reflex? What was Taehyung supposed to pull from that?
"How so?" He asked, sceptical. The line was quiet for a bit before Hoseok spoke up again, his tone different this time.
"You sound so bothered," Hoseok said, like he could read his mind. Taehyung felt his face heat up, quickly trampling any previous ideas down.
"I'm not."
"I just feel like he's really small and soft-looking. Nobody would suspect him, you know? Whereas Namjoon, with all his tattoos and shit..."
"And how would we make Jimin sell our drugs?" Taehyung groaned, lighting up another cigarette. He was getting stressed already, and he wasn't even at school. It wasn't even lunch yet. "We picked Namjoon because he blends in with the inmates. Jimin would just get raped."
"I was kidding, Tae," Hoseok insisted. Taehyung rubbed his eyes, chucking his half-lit cigarette away and wondering if he had just smoked too much. Of course Hoseok was kidding. Jimin wasn't even on their side. "Are you alright?"
"'M fine," Taehyung mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just fuckin' high. I gotta go."
"See ya tomorrow?" Hoseok stopped him with, still sounding concerned. Taehyung hated the sound of it in his voice. It didn't suit him.
"Yeah yeah."
He slammed his phone shut before Hoseok could open his mouth again, pulling his sweaty shirt off and chucking it over his goldfish. He was feeling so hot and antsy and he hated it. He hated Geochang. Hated his school.
Hated Jimin.
*
He looked for Jimin the next day, wondering if he'd got him as good as he'd done Taehyung, and was pleased to find that Jimin was sporting a severely bruised under-eye, his bottom lip swollen as he chewed on his pencil in class. The view was nice, until he remembered that he hadn't kicked Jimin in the mouth, and he shouldn't be swollen there. His eyes darkened.
"Kim Taehyung, what's more interesting to you than my History class?" Came the voice of his professor, and he whipped his head back to the front before Jimin or the rest of the class caught him staring. His professor looked unamused, his tongue sucking on his grey moustache the way it always did. Did the professor not see how Jimin was bruised all weird? Was he the only one who saw the lip thing?
"Most things, actually," Taehyung said, keeping up his reputation of being a jackass as he watched half the class snicker and the other half scoff at him. 'So fucking immature, Taehyung,' he could read from Narae's stare, and he wanted to flip her off.
"Think being smart with me will get you far in life?" The professor pushed.
"I guess we'll find out." Taehyung shrugged, leaning back and feigning nonchalance. He'd get detention for a week; that was for sure. He was fine with that, but somehow he couldn't shake the anxious feeling in his chest, which was bothering him more.
*
"So he fucked you after I beat you up, did he?" Taehyung growled, grabbing Jimin's lapels and shoving him against the roof door. Jimin always went up there to eat his lunch, but Taehyung wasn't having it today. He was already shaking because he was so angry, and he didn't even understand what he was so angry for. "He helped you get rid of the little shame boner that you got from me. Which was disgusting, by the way."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Jimin hissed, face turned away from Taehyung's flecking spit as he rambled fast and loud right at him. "Who?"
"Hoseok. Sucking on your fat lip so hard it bruised," Taehyung pressed, saying his friend's name like it was blasphemy. Jimin furrowed his eyebrows before he raised one, shoving Taehyung off of him.
"So yesterday you think Yoongi's fucking me and now you think Hoseok is? Why do you care about my sex life so much? Who even said I was gay?"
"So it happened?"
"No. Jesus. I don't even know Hoseok." They both went quiet, panting and staring each other down, until Jimin reached for his bag rather carefully, seeming ready to call for any of his boys as soon as he could yank the roof door open. Taehyung let him yank it open, staring Jimin down and watching as he retreated back inside without another word, leaving Taehyung to stir in his own embarrassment outside.
*
"I hate Jimin. I hope he dies. Fuckin' cunt."
Hoseok stared at him as he cursed up a storm, kicking chairs and fuming in the empty classroom. He'd wanted to have a smoke to calm down, but then realized he'd forgotten his pack at home and suddenly his day got ten times worse. He couldn't bum smokes off some poor kid because the younger grades were all out on a fieldtrip, and when he realized Hoseok was still staring at him from across the room after he'd turned a table over, Taehyung bristled.
"What?" He demanded. Hoseok flinched, face grave as his lips were pulled tight around his teeth. He looked funny.
"I have some bad news."
"Spit it out, then. I fuckin' love bad news," he said sarcastically. He didn't have time for Hoseok to be dramatic. He could already see on his face that he was bursting to tell him something.
"Seokjin got to Namjoon before we did," Hoseok said, sitting down in a vacant chair. Taehyung narrowed his eyes, walking closer to Hoseok with clenched fists.
"Jimin's Seokjin?"
"Is there another Seokjin?"
"Don't be smart with me. I'll fuck you up, I swear." He didn't have the patience today. He never had the patience. He was always angry, and Hoseok knew it. He looked like he'd resigned himself to his fate, waiting for a swing at any moment.
"Calm down, man. Seriously," Hoseok croaked, eyes glued to the silver ring on Taehyung's knuckle. He only used his left fist when he meant business; when he wanted to crack open a skull. Taehyung inhaled sharply, chewing on his bottom lip as he forced himself to lower his hands, well aware that Hoseok had nothing to do with it.
"What happened? How did Seokjin get to him?" He asked, voice strained. He saw an image of Jimin in his head, whispering minutely to Seokjin while grinning in satisfaction. It made Taehyung spit on the ground, feeling disgusted. All he could do was think about Jimin's stupid, bruised lip.
"He nicked the money from his drug run, gave Namjoon a black eye, then split."
"How did Namjoon let him get away with that?" Taehyung pressed, suddenly annoyed with Namjoon, who had both height and muscle on Seokjin.
"He was worried about one of the bullets tearing inside him. He thinks he might have left one in because he forgot to count them as they came out."
Taehyung rubbed his eyes, sighing to himself. Of course. Everything had to go to shit when he was having a bad day. Of course they'd had to send fuckin' Namjoon.
"Tell Namjoon to fuck off. He's not getting his sixty and he's not gonna speak to me again unless I personally see him shitting out a condom full of fuckin' E."
"Alright," Hoseok said, moving towards the door. He stopped with his hand on the handle, looking back at Taehyung with an unreadable expression. "But you know he's sorry, right?"
"If he's so sorry, then he can tell me that himself. And harakiri."
*
"Taehyung?" Jimin asked into the silence, watching the taller male approach from the shadows. His voice was intriguingly afraid, and it satisfied him.
They were inside a factory warehouse a bit outside of town, cold, clinical lights illuminating them in an eerie glow. It was a place nobody ever came; something right out of a movie. The only warehouse their stupid town had, in fact. He wanted to scare Jimin a little. Jimin thought it was all fun and games because he had nothing to lose. Taehyung had everything to lose, because his status was all he had. He kept his hands shoved in his pockets, his teeth sucking in air as he tried to gather his words and process that Jimin stood in front of him with his uniform all nicely buttoned up, school hat straight and snug on his head.
"Do you know why I asked you to come here?" He asked, picking his teeth as he watched Jimin squirm a little under his eyes. He'd come of his own volition. Jimin could have easily sent Yoongi after him like he'd done before, but he hadn't. It made Taehyung curious.
"No."
"Don't lie to me, Park Jimin," he spat, walking closer to him and watching him flinch as he slapped the hat off his head with a loud sound, able to see the dust particles floating between them. The surroundings stank of petrol as he breathed in, but Jimin smelled of fresh laundry still and he was bothered by the fact that he didn't stink like everyone else did during summer. Like he was a different species or some shit. "Think you're hot shit, huh? Stealing my money," He prompted, reaching for Jimin's name tag next and ripping it off his uniform. Jimin didn't flinch this time, and Taehyung felt disappointed. He reached up to close his large hand around the boy's neck to remedy his disappointment, squeezing experimentally while he watched the smaller's eyes widen.
"You gonna pop another boner for me, Jiminnie?" He whispered, clenching hard and loving the sound of Jimin sputtering as his air was cut off completely. Tiny hands reached up to claw it his arm, trying to pry his hand off his neck. He let go, allowing Jimin a desperate breath after shocking him so abruptly.
"You always get so angry when I'm around," Jimin said through a cough. His eyes had started watering because of the lack of air, and Taehyung thought he looked good like that. All pathetic and scared, how he really was. But the watering eyes came around to scowl at him, unflinching. "I know you hate that I get in your way, but it's just weird at this point. Is there something you're not telling me?"
Taehyung growled at his tone, punching Jimin hard in the stomach. The boy doubled over, sinking down to his knees and clutching his gut. He fell backwards, seemingly dizzy, and Taehyung watched every inch of his body as he did so, his slacks slightly too small for him. A tear-stained face and a ripped uniform looked good on him. Taehyung bent down and reached his belt, smirking to himself. His loins were beginning to burn. It was slow and unexpected, but he felt it hard as he slipped Jimin's leather belt open, yanking at his pants. Jimin turned over on his stomach to hide himself, and Taehyung let him, because the sight of his ass wasn't too bad.
"This turns you on, right?" He said quietly, allowing his hand a gentle touch of the swell of Jimin's behind. He saw Jimin shiver, lying still as Taehyung touched him. "Is that why you keep fucking with me? Is my little boy hoping he's gonna get a good spanking?"
"Fuck off," Jimin whimpered, but he keened as Taehyung climbed up on him and pressed his clothed, hard cock against Jimin's crack. Using all of his body weight, Taehyung rocked back and forth a bit, drinking up each mewl that came from the smaller boy's mouth. Having Jimin under him like this all helpless and messy was intoxicating. He licked his lips, grinding down and leaning over to Jimin's head, sucking on the lobe gently before whispering to him.
"Do you want my cock in your ass or your mouth?" He asked, half joking but not really and running a teasingly light touch over the boy's strained erection through his underwear as Jimin arched his back. Jimin whimpered, and Taehyung wasn't sure whether it was at the action or his words. "Pick one, Jimin."
"My mouth," Jimin said quickly, as if cautious that Taehyung was only playing, but eyeing his bulge with half-lidded eyes and a wary look, his cheeks dusted with a deep pink at his own words.
"Get on your knees and suck me off then." Taehyung commanded, unamused by Jimin just lying there. He stood up to his full height, teasingly pulling out his cock so slow that it caught on his boxers and bounced out, all counted for inches throbbing and ready. Jimin swallowed hard, his Adams apple bobbing down and up as he took in the sight, licking over his already slick bottom lip. "Don't just sit there and drool. Suck me."
Jimin obeyed this time, crawling up and reaching for him with his clammy hands. Taehyung snickered, slapping them away. "Don't want your fuckin' baby hands on me. Open your damn mouth."
Jimin did, wide and beautiful and so eager to please that Taehyung felt tingles all the way from his toes to his head and most definitely out to his twitching cock. Jimin eyed him cautiously as Taehyung grabbed himself around the base, his right hand sinking into Jimin's hair and gripping it hard.
Jimin barely got to attempt to suck at all before Taehyung was thrusting, eyes closed as he lost himself completely. There were no sounds except wet, lewd ones and they gave him the sort of high that had him throwing his head back.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he hissed, fucking Jimin's mouth and trying to remember how much he hated him, how much he wanted to wreck him, and how he was only doing this to humiliate him. His balls tightened without warning, and he had to stop thrusting lest he wanted to come almost instantly, the plush feeling of Jimin's wet tongue on the underside of his cock completely doing him in.
He yanked Jimin off him, letting the boy breathe and watching him cough and sputter as he tried to will his boner down. Jimin raised his eyes to look at him, and Taehyung almost came again, embarrassed that he had to look away and close is fingers right around the base of his cock.
Fucking Jimin. Fuck Jimin. Fuck him.
"Do you want to put it in my ass?" Jimin asked while panting, like they were just talking about something casual and Taehyung's erection wasn't in Jimin's face like it was pointing right at him and screaming at him to go to town. He hated that Jimin could apparently read his mind. He just hated him period, but they'd already establishment that.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Taehyung scoffed, his eyes glazed over as he looked down at Jimin's pretty, white boxers, straining an eager cock and highlighting the bronze in his skin.
Without further ado, Taehyung dove down to rip his underwear off, revealing a few faint tan lines and smooth skin for miles. His breath caught in his throat, his eyes half-lidded as he imagined fucking down into Jimin's tight heat. He wasn't sure he'd ever been so aroused. He wasn't even sure he wanted to admit that.
"Ew, don't spit--"
"I'm not takin' you raw," Taehyung shut him up with, holding his cheeks apart with his thumbs as he let his saliva drip down from his mouth in fat globs. It gathered on top of Jimin's clenching hole, making it glisten, and Taehyung had to bite his lips shut to control himself. "I'm gonna fuckin' spit or it'll just hurt."
Jimin didn't say anything as he slipped a finger in, pushing the saliva as far inside as it would go and wiggling slightly to get a feel for it. Jimin didn't say anything when a second finger pushed in either, joining the first in squishing around in his wet hole, Taehyung's head spinning at the thought of his cock replacing them soon.
He shifted his knees and pressed the mushroom shaped head of his cock taut at the clenching entrance, squeezing Jimin's hip to tell him to let him in. Jimin reached behind himself blindly, all pride gone as he searched for purchase as Taehyung was about to enter. Taehyung gave in and grabbed his hand, squishing it down on the cold floor, before Jimin relaxed ever so slightly, allowing his head to dip in the opening. As soon as it relaxed, it clenched up again in surprise, making Taehyung hiss as he was clamped down on hard. He rocked forwards by instinct, filling Jimin almost all the way up, with some to spare.
"It hurts," Jimin whined, trying to move his hand, but Taehyung was holding it too tight. His toes were already curling.
"Relax," Taehyung commanded, kissing down his neck and the beginning of his spine and tasting the sweat dewing his skin. Jimin smelled normal now, instead of like soap. He smelled naked and wrecked, just like Taehyung. "You're clenchin' up, dummy."
"I am relaxing," Jimin hissed, but softened up once Taehyung was all the way in, his cock pressing hard agaisnt his prostate. "Fuck," he let out, a whimper with several voice cracks that made Taehyung need to clench to keep from nutting. He'd been about to nut an embarrassing amount of times so far, and he hoped Jimin didn't notice.
"Jesus," Taehyung grunted as he started rocking, cock slick with spit and sweat as it moved in and out of Jimin's tight ass. Neither of them were religious, but Jimin seemed to agree, moaning into the ground and keep his legs spread for Taehyung to thrust between. This was the most they'd agreed on ever, and it was weird. If Taehyung hadn't been thrusting he might have cared more and right-hooked Jimin some to get the embarrassment out of his system, but he was stuck licking and sucking on his neck, his hips slapping against Jimin's fat ass as he fucked into him. Jimin had given up on trying to look tough, his mouth hanging open and his vocal pitch decidedly higher as he moaned and begged for Taehyung fuck him harder.
"Fuck, you look so good with my cock in you," Taehyung hissed, feeling delirious as the warm, wet walls contracted around him. "Good-for-nothin' little fuck but you're so eager to swallow my come, huh? What if your boys saw you like this." Jimin whimpered, and Taehyung knew he was imagining it. Seokjin watching, Yoongi watching. The others watching. Jimin's face flushed at first, probably turned on, but then it slowly drained of colour, his eyes unfocusing, and Taehyung backpedalled when he realized the severity of what he was saying. "But they can't, because you're only mine to play with," he grunted, yanking at his hair harder to distract him from his thoughts. "You'll only get on your knees for me because you wanna show everyone how much of a slut you are, taking your rival's fucking cock all good like this."
Jimin nodded, tears streaming down his face. He turned, reaching for Taehyung, and Taehyung dipped down to kiss him on the mouth, tongue tasting the salty drops already mixed in with his spit. He kept kissing him while he thrust, pushing Jimin's leg up for better access and twisting his upper body. Jimin stretched out was even more pretty a sight than Jimin with his ass up, and Taehyung grinned into his mouth, swearing he could taste victory.
He felt Jimin spasm around him, screaming into his mouth and arching up, and Taehyung held him down, letting Jimin ride through his orgasm while he fucked into him faster, his forehead planted on Jimin's nose.
"Gonna come," Taehyung grunted, his hands holding Jimin's hips in a vice. Jimin would leave with bruises, that was for sure. All from him. "Gonna...fucking come..."
He spilled into Jimin's tight heat, panting into his neck as he heard his release bubble up and spill out slightly, lining Jimin's left thigh. Jimin was still in his uniform, although it was pulled on and messy, and Taehyung pulled out of him only to help him back into his boxers and thread in legs into his pants, fixing him up as good as possible before he tried pulling back. Jimin shook his head, grabbing for anything belonging to Taehyung and trying to hold him still, and Taehyung felt his shirt get pulled down, his weight eclipsing Jimin once again. Jimin pursed his lips, as if asking for a kiss, and Taehyung gave it to him, making sure to stick his tongue in so that Jimin could still tell who was in charge and yank at his hair so that he remembered he hated him.
*
Jimin wasn't so bad when they weren't at school. Jimin's dad kicked him out the day he came home smelling of sex in the middle of the night, and Taehyung let him sleep on the floor next to his bed, grumbling about it the whole time but not having the energy to shoo him away. It was like Jimin was a puppy and he'd latched onto him now. Stuck forever. It was, at least partly, Taehyung's fault. Besides, Jimin was so pitiful when he was crying, and Taehyung didn't want him to wake up the whole neighbourhood.
"Christ, you eat like a fuckin' rhino," Taehyung muttered as he fed Jimin his third bowl of black bean noodles that day, watching the tear streaks down his face fade into soft pink trails. He looked bad, but Taehyung had seen worse. Jimin would be fine. He couldn't stay with Taehyung forever, but he'd be fine. Taehyung's mother had tried protesting, looking rather disgusted when Jimin had shown up, but he'd yelled at her and called her a selfish cow, so now she was sleeping over at her boyfriend's place and Taehyung could feed Jimin as much as he wanted.
This was their second day skipping school together.
"Wipe your snot, dude. You look ridiculous."
Jimin ignored him, so he wiped it for him, grimacing at the sticky shit scooped up on his paper towel. He'd never seen Jimin such a mess before. Jimin shoved his hand away, muttering something about him being a prick, but Taehyung ignored him in favour of observing how he ate, all slurpy and hungry but still so neat.
*
"Three days gone? That's a new record, Taehyung," Hoseok remarked as he sat down at their usual bench in the courtyard staring out over the sea of students. He didn't know where Jimin had gone, and he tried to convince himself that he didn't care. He'd just seemed so frazzled still. Taehyung was used to his Mom hating him, but Jimin made it look like his Dad disowning him meant the whole world was ending. It was really dramatic. He'd told him to go home; to get his act together and go back to being his old self before he lost it completely. "What were you doing?"
"Where's Namjoon?" He just asked, not really sure he cared, but all he ever did was ask about the whereabouts of his friends. It made him feel in control.
"You wanna talk to him now?" Hoseok questioned. Hoseok was acting really weird around him, and Taehyung didn't get why. He just shrugged, lighting up a cigarette and pinching off half of it for Hoseok. Hoseok shook his head, refusing it, then mumbled that Namjoon was in class before fucking off, and Taehyung wished everybody could stop being so dramatic about everything for once in their fucking lives.
*
"Steamed ribs or tripe?" Taehyung asked, holding out plastic boxes of both in Jimin's face and blocking him from the sun. They were up on the roof again, Jimin forgetting to go get lunch in the cafeteria and Taehyung reluctantly trying to force him to eat. Not that he cared, but he was bored, and Hoseok was nowhere to be found. "I don't know which one you prefer, so I just made the lady give me both."
"You threatened her?" Jimin chastised, glaring at him. Taehyung shrugged, throwing him the tripe.
"I have my means," he said, sitting down next to Jimin and pulling out a pre-packed sandwich from Seven Eleven. He didn't fuck with school food. He didn't even fuck with Asian food. "This is important," he insisted when Jimin didn't seem too humoured. "You're already skinny enough as it is and your ass is like the only thing you have goin' for you. So eat."
"I don't want your dirty food," Jimin whined, kicking it away and rubbing his eyes. "I want my bed back."
"Well tough shit," Taehyung mumbled, sinking his teeth into the stale bread and pretending he understood the taste of pickles. He glanced sideways, seeing Jimin eye his mouthful, and grinned. "Want a bite, babydoll?"
"Not anymore."
"Fine," Taehyung groaned, chomping off another big piece for himself. The pickle thing was weird, but the fresh cheese made up for it. He could sell his leg for some good ass cheese. "Stay mad about how I fucked you better than anybody ever has before."
"I'm not mad about that," Jimin huffed, face indignant. Taehyung raised a brow in his direction, his features morphing into a very pleased one.
"So you're glad about that?"
"I'm nothing...about that." Jimin cleared his throat, but Taehyung could already see the telling pinkness creeping into his cheeks. He tried not to, but he couldn't help reminiscing back to that day. Images of Jimin naked haunted him, and every time he smelled gasoline he felt himself getting heated, like he was Pavlov's fuckin' dog.
"Just admit it was fuckin' good," Taehyung hummed, chewing happily on his sandwich. "You came so hard I can still feel your clenching patterns emblazoned around my dick."
"For fuck's sake," Jimin hissed, looking around himself like there was somebody there with them. He always had to be so prissy. "Keep your voice down!"
"Oh relax, the only one up here to hear about your fat ass taking my cock is Jesus."
"Taehyung!"
"Love it when you scream my name," Taehyung snorted.
"I'm serious," Jimin whined, taking Taehyung's sandwich from him in order to get his full attention. Taehyung scowled, but let him talk, his face looking rather crestfallen. "I know you're trying to get your drug money back and I know I don't mean shit to you. I know you hate that Yoongi's always around and I know you hate that we're moving in on your turf."
"You make an awful lot of assumptions for someone who's only fucked me once," Taehyung scoffed, grabbing his sandwich back from Jimin and continuing to feast on it. "At least ride me cowgirl style before you pretend to know me."
"Tell me I'm wrong," Jimin challenged, eyes unwavering as they stared him down. Taehyung sighed, too tired to spend his lunch fighting someone.
"You're not wrong," he supplied, giving up on his sandwich and leaning his head back against the door. Jimin was sitting so close he could feel the heat radiating off him. The butter they’d used on his sandwich was unsalted and it made everything taste horrible. "I hate you. I want to break your legs every time you mess with one of my guys."
"Then why don't you?" Jimin asked, his voice sounding quiet and small. Taehyung shivered, hating that Jimin was sitting so close and tickling his ear with every breath. Ew.
"That's not a kink of yours, is it?" Taehyung laughed, getting up onto his knees and leaning an elbow on Jimin's shoulder. "Because baby we can do the Daddy shit and the whole nine yards, but I only break bones when I don't want someone's dick to stand up again ever unless it’s angel lust."
"Never mind. I see you're not in the mood for a fucking civil conversation," Jimin spat, shaking Taehyung off him and crossing his arms. Taehyung bit his lip, slumping back down against the door and eyeing Jimin's changing expressions.
"Is the drug run bothering you that much?" Taehyung asked. He had a feeling it would. They'd only recently started doing it, and since quite a lot of people had found out about it, they'd been getting offers left and right to expand their shipping destinations. Jimin shrugged, blowing some hair out of his eyes.
"I just liked it better before when you didn't involve inmates in our school business," he mumbled, and Taehyung smiled, leaning closer to his face.
"Back when my only focus was roughin' up you? You gotta wait your turn for that now, my masochistic sweetheart," he snickered, getting brushed off by Jimin when he tried caressing his cheek. Jimin scowled, deeply, then shot back.
"No," he pressed, grabbing both of the lunches Taehyung had brought him and shoving them into his bag. Taehyung smiled secretly, hiding it behind his hand. "I mean back when there were no drugs and we didn't have boys getting caught and sentenced to life in prison."
"Don't be so dramatic, nobody's been sentenced to life," Taehyung insisted, rolling his eyes and grabbing Jimin by the arm when he stood up to leave. Jimin stared down at him, clearly flustered.
"The more dangerous you make it the more bad things will happen," Jimin whispered. He didn't look angry or annoyed anymore, just weary. Taehyung acknowledged it, he really did, but Jimin didn't understand. He would never understand, and that was alright, but he couldn't fuck him over again because it wouldn't only go out on Taehyung.
"I have a fuckin' family to support, Jimin. In case you'd forgotten," Taehyung growled, fingers squeezing tight around his thin wrist. Jimin's eyes were a deep, warm brown, and they were soothing, but asking him to quit the Daegu run was like telling him to kill his mom. "I need the drug money. This ain't a fuckin' game."
Jimin whimpered in pain, staring down at their connecting hands with tears in his eyes. "I know," he whispered, and Taehyung saw the regret in his face. He considered petting him and telling him it was okay or pulling him down to kiss him, but then Namjoon's black eye came back into his head and he just let Jimin go, chewing on a foul insult. Jimin was by no means innocent in any of this. "I didn't mean it like that."
He ignored Jimin, yanking out a cigarette instead and flicking it into his mouth, only to realize he'd forgotten his lighter at home. He cursed, slumping further against the door and looking stupid. Jimin rummaged in his pocket for a second, pulling out his own silver engraved one, and offered it carefully down to the boy on the floor, flame zipping on. Taehyung looked up at him, still annoyed, but allowed his head to tilt left and fire up the end of his cigarette, sucking in with hollow cheeks and blowing the smoke out in the opposite direction.
Jimin stood still, as if waiting for something to happen, or him to say something. Taehyung groaned, and pulled Jimin down next to him, inhaling a new mouthful of smoke and grabbing Jimin's head, aligning their mouths as he breathed his second-hand smoke straight into the smaller boy's mouth. Jimin just smelled of mint, eyes clenching shut and nose twitching as the foul nicotine filled his lungs. He knew Jimin wasn't a regular smoker, but if Taehyung had to die of lung cancer, then do did he.
Jimin coughed to himself when he was finished, wiping his nose and swallowing a few times, before he leaned in to his lips and asked for more.
*
He kinda wanted everyone to see what he had Jimin doing, but it wasn't in such a malicious way anymore. He wanted them to see Jimin's thick lips sucking him off in a broom closet because they had nothing better to do while playing hooky, and he wanted them to see how pretty Jimin was when he lifted his legs up and begged Taehyung to eat him out, mostly because he was proud of it. Jimin did it so good. He looked so good. He couldn't stay mad at Jimin when he was tracing numbers over his quivering ass hole and Jimin loved it so much he practically choked him with his thick thighs.
"I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come," Jimin whined while he was doing the latter, face slick with sweat and eyes gazing up at Taehyung and if Jimin hadn't already sucked him off right before he would have come in his pants for sure.
He watched Jimin's twitching length spurt out small streams of white, dirtying his own stomach, which Taehyung finally got to see because he'd begged Jimin to get properly undressed. Jimin whined, fingers feeling into his navel where most of it had pooled and grimacing. Taehyung grinned with a devilish mind, leaning up and licking into the pool with the tongue that had just been up the smaller's ass, gathering it all on his wet digit the before leaning over Jimin’s head and spitting it into his open mouth.
Jimin hated that. He hated tasting himself. He hated being humiliated and he hated when Taehyung was disgusting, but that only made Taehyung want to do it even more. If only to see the sweet blush on Jimin's face.
*
"Who do you want as the next mule?" Hoseok questioned him, glancing at a map of South Korea and a list of names from the Daegu correctional. It was all very complicated, but Hoseok always had a good grasp on things like that. He handled it.
"I don't think we're ready to send someone out yet," Taehyung mumbled, busy sharpening his tiny knife on a butcher's steel. He could never quite get the angle right, and it frustrated him. And now Hoseok wouldn't stop bothering him and that made everything even harder.
"We need to supply for the demand or we'll lose our momentum," Hoseok grit through his teeth. Taehyung could tell he was getting frustrated, and in all honesty, Taehyung would have been too if he’d been in his shoes. He just didn't have the energy to think. His brain felt dead and he wanted to focus on his knife.
"I know. I'm thinking."
"Well, think faster."
He shot a glare at Hoseok, who was probably the only person in existence who could get away with talking to him like that. They'd known each other for too long. He'd known Taehyung before Taehyung had become Taehyung and he was just some weird kid in primary. Not that it excused Hoseok's lip.
"The kid maybe?" He suggested, mostly just trying to keep Hoseok from bothering him.
"Jungkook?"
"I guess? Ask him if he wants in."
Hoseok went silent, and Taehyung found that weird, because he'd just given him what he wanted. He looked up, only to be met with stern eyes, Hoseok still not writing anything down on his list.
"What?" He asked, annoyed. He shoved his knife back in his pants, leaning his head on his hand until he remembered he had a bruise there and hissed, sitting up straighter.
"Since when did we ask people what they wanted?" Hoseok demanded, throwing his pencil down and crossing his arms. Taehyung sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. He was already sweaty and it was only morning. Fucking Geochang. "You own him. Tell him."
"Right."
Hoseok scowled at him, and that was when Taehyung decided he'd had enough of sitting out in the sun to bake and headed back inside.
*
Much to Taehyung's delight, the days grew gradually colder as the weather changed for the first time in forever, his only enemy now being extreme humidity. He skipped school a lot to get away from Hoseok, who just wouldn't stop nagging him, and Jimin, who had discovered that he had no new drug mule yet and kept questioning him about it.
He spent his time smoking by the river bridge, dangling his feet off the edge because that was the only time he felt like he could properly clear his head. He threw rocks into the water, aiming for the ugly fish, and at least that way he felt like he was still somewhat ruthless and bloodthirsty.
*
It was raining when Jungkook ran to him across the field one day, all wet and out of breath as he seemed to be in such a hurry that even his blazer was flapping open around him. Taehyung was having a smoke under a canopy, staring at the boy and wanting to laugh at the ridiculous way his hair was glued to his forehead. His cheeks were red from running and had Taehyung not happened to know that he was on the school's track team, he would have assumed he had really bad stamina.
"We got him, Tae. Like you wanted us to," Jungkook blurted, gasping back some air and looking proud of himself. He'd never paid much attention to Jungkook, and he hadn't planned on starting to. He was like a mouse in a sea of grass. A blind fly on the wall who happened to maybe have some muscles. Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows, exhaling the last of his smoke, confused.
"Got who?" He asked, annoyed because his cigarette kept going out because of the rain and he had to keep re-lighting it. He reached for his lighter, flicking it on and struggling with the dying flame. Some days some things just weren't meant to be. Some days were just hell. Jungkook wasn’t helping either.
"Jimin."
Taehyung stopped what he was doing, dropping his cigarette and staring up at Jungkook as he decided to finally pay attention. The boy was beaming from ear to ear, disregarding rain and mud because nothing could get him down from his high spirits. He was younger than Taehyung, always looking for ways to impress him and try to be accepted in their 'gang', so he'd give him the benefit of the doubt.
"Got Jimin how?"
Jungkook look confused at his reply, straightening up as he searched Taehyung's eyes for signs that he was just kidding. Taehyung just stared at him, his fists clenching. Suddenly the rain felt cold on his back and he regretted not wearing socks.
"We fucked him up."
"You what?"
"We fucked him--" Taehyung grabbed Jungkook by the shirt and spoke so hard to him that his spit flew everywhere, shaking him as he did so. The younger sputtered, his neck flying back.
"That wasn't an invitation for you to repeat yourself, it was my way of telling you that you better be so fuckin' high you smoked your socks right now, because I didn't tell you guys to do shit."
Jungkook struggled to breathe, his neck hurting as Taehyung shook him. He looked terrified and utterly dumbfounded, glancing up at the older male with wide eyes. Taehyung usually got off on roughing people up like that, but this time he was just angry. Nothing but angry. Not even power-tripping a little bit.
"Hoseok said you'd be happy." Taehyung bit his lip, lessening his hold on Jungkook somewhat as his friend popped into his head. Jungkook probably didn't have a hand in any of it. He was just the messenger. He tried calming his voice, speaking less loudly but still holding Jungkook in a tight hold to warn him.
"Where is he?"
"Hoseok?"
"No, you stupid fuck, Jimin." Jungkook swallowed, nodding as he pointed to the right. Taehyung tried not to think too much, because it just made his knees weak.
"School basement," Jungkook croaked. When Taehyung paused and let a silence pass between them, Jungkook took the chance to smooth him over, smiling weakly at him. "He's already given up the secret hiding place for their ecstasy, hyung. This is our golden opportunity."
Taehyung kneed Jungkook in the stomach before he left, sprinting his way through the rain and letting his thundering feet clap in his ears louder than the lightning as he tried to find his way through the familiar place, suddenly disoriented.
The halls seemed endless this time around, all looking identical and deserted as he sprinted down them, clutching to the staircase for dear life when he finally found it. It was a long way down, deep into coldness and damp mildew where they usually just stored their P.E. equipment.
The first person he spotted was Hoseok, his blazer off and the sleeves of his arms painted in red. His throat closed up painfully, because the sight to the right of Hoseok was appalling. He saw a lump that had to be Jimin bare-chested on the ground, bleeding from rather precise but small gashes all over that could only be the work of the cutter-knives his boys were holding. He could only imagine how they'd held him down and hacked at him, and Taehyung lost it for a short second, shoving Hoseok out of the way and diving down next to the hurt body on the ground. He looked so small. So cold.
"For fuck's sake--" Taehyung wheezed, feeling his hands tremble. He wasn't angry enough to be his usual self, because he was just horrified. There was so much blood on Jimin and the looming smell of it made him instantaneously nauseous. It was more than a bleeding nose now; Jimin's eyes were wide and scared like he could see an invisible monster drooling above him. Like he was being betrayed. He convulsed when Taehyung touched his neck, as if terrified of being slashed again. Taehyung tried soothing him by stroking what was left of his unwounded skin to relax the muscles, but he recognized his tensing limbs and blinked hard as he watched him bleed even more. He blinked back tears, turning to look at the boys around them, who were all staring at him like he was a stranger. "We're in high school! We're not the fuckin’ Yakuza." He had to take a deep breath to gather himself, looking up at the boys around him again and feeling like he didn't know them at all. Hoseok had a blank expression on his face, standing by the wall where he was leaning with his arms crossed.
"We fuck people up all the time, Tae. Didn't think you'd get mad this time around. Sorry, I guess."
Taehyung considered talking to him, because he knew Hoseok was pressed about something, but he couldn't physically open his mouth again out of fear of either vomiting or screaming. He bit his lip, checking Jimin's pulse and trying not to cry, because he never fucking cried. The pulse was weak but still there, as if only one more deep cut would have done him in. He glared around himself, daring anyone to come closer.
"You wanted him dead. You said so," someone else piped up, Taehyung recognizing the voice as Namjoon. Taehyung had wanted Namjoon dead a few weeks ago too; that didn't mean he'd follow through with it. His chest bubbled with anger, making it hurt more as he had to force himself to lean over Jimin's bleeding body to keep him conscious.
"Hey, shhh, I'm sorry," Taehyung whispered into Jimin's ear, stroking his damp hair and ripping his shirt in one easy go to tie around the large slashes by Jimin's wrists. They were the ones oozing the most blood, his radial artery punctured deep. "You're alright."
Nobody said anything as Taehyung gathered Jimin up in his arms, struggling to his feet with the extra weight and getting soaked in blood from the littering of gashes. He glared at each and every one of the boys with knives in their hands, inviting them to come at him. None of them would. They still had respect for him; either that or fear. When they didn't, he made his way to the stairs, hands almost numb as they tried to hold Jimin's body tight while also trying not to hurt him.
*
Walking home with a person on his back was the hardest thing Taehyung had ever done, and he hated Jimin for it. Then he didn't hate Jimin because Jimin was barely breathing and he went back to hating himself, cursing as he slipped on rocks and grass while trying to find his house in the rain, still trekking the dense forest. He’d never considered that rain was so cold before he was completely drenched in it and trying to avoid the smell of blood as the coppery tinge settled into his clothes. The wetness wasn't doing anything to aid Jimin's wounds either, and he considered keeping him under another canopy but chucked that idea out when he decided the wounds needed permanent closing, and fast.
He was in the middle of trying to remember where he left his first aid kit at home when a looming shadow stepped up before him. He'd thought it was Hoseok who had come to help him and apologize, but the familiar face was a different one. Almost even more unwelcome, though the competition was rather fierce after what had conspired.
"You sadistic fuck," Yoongi hissed, looking dangerous despite his short stature. Taehyung knew Jimin kept him as his bodyguard for a reason; he wasn't daft. He’d felt the wrath of Yoongi’s fist first-hand, and he’d never even gotten to see what he’d done to the kids from Busan who had tried jacking their hangout one faithful fieldtrip. "First you rape him at some warehouse and then you try bleeding him to death?”
"I didn't do nothin'," Taehyung mumbled, stepping to the right as he finally saw his house in the distance. Yoongi followed, staying in his path. He was quicker on his feet. Probably partly because he wasn’t slowed down by sixty kilos of a bleeding human. "Outta my way, Yoongi. I don’t have time for this."
"He doesn’t deserve what happened to ‘im," the boy hissed, looking way angrier than he should and staring Taehyung down with dead eyes, like he couldn’t see Jimin bleeding and dying while he talked. "He took your stash back from Namjoon because you fucks jacked our run first."
"I know. Like I fuckin' said: I didn't--"
Before he could finish, Yoongi was coming at him, eyes livid and unstable as he brandished a hammer Taehyung hadn’t picked up on earlier and aimed it at Taehyung's head. Taehyung cursed, ducking and shoving Jimin to the ground to get him out of harm's way. He heard Jimin whimper, his heart clenching at the thought of Jimin's gashes coming in contact with the muddy ground. Yoongi was still glaring at him, holding his hammer up high like some lunatic.
"Jimin needs help, you dumb fuck!" he yelled, coughing as the rain and cold finally got to him, sparking the beginnings of hypothermia in his system. He tried raising his fists to defend himself, but they were trembling. "F-fuckin'-- now's not the fuckin' time to get jealous-- you actual piece of garbage--" he shoved Yoongi off when he came for him again, barely avoiding his hammer. Yoongi doubled back and swung a second time, this time landing it somewhere at the side of Taehyung's head, because he felt a splitting headache for a second and then something warm trickle down his neck.
"No!" Jimin screamed from the ground, crying as he spotted Taehyung with his ear half ripped off from the swing of the hammer, doubled over. Yoongi seemed to notice him for the first time, eyes wide as he hurried over to Jimin and crouched over his mangled body, holding his face in his hands. "F-fuck off!" Jimin said weakly, unable to lift his arms. "Don't touch me-- don't--"
Taehyung ignored his ear to run forward with built momentum and rev his leg back enough to kick Yoongi's head in a clean shot now that he was finally distracted, sending the male crashing to the ground next to Jimin, completely unmoving.
"Fuck," he heard Jimin hiss, mainly happy he was back to a level of consciousness that involved communication, and grabbed him into his arms once again, his only focus on getting inside his house and locking the door.
*
They lay next to each other on the bed in Taehyung’s room again, staring at the ceiling. Taehyung's bloody emergency kit lay on the floor, thoroughly used even though Taehyung had mainly only tried to copy what he'd seen in the movies while drugging Jimin up on a slightly illegal amount of painkillers. Jimin's face had regained colour, the many stitches on his body making him look like Chucky. Except...a way prettier version. Taehyung felt delirious.
"Do you wanna..." go to a hospital? The rest of the sentence died in his throat as he took it back before even saying it. They would ask questions there and it would get them all in trouble. Jimin had ninety grams of ecstasy in his school locker and none of their weapons were legal. Jimin’s blood shouldn’t have as much ibuprofen in it as it did.
"No," Jimin agreed, defeated. Taehyung couldn't stop staring at him. Not because he looked gross but because despite all the cuts and the bad bandaging job by yours truly, Jimin looked so serene and pretty with the light from the window hitting his face. Taehyung hadn't really taken the time to see it up close like that. He felt like Jimin's face could result in world peace and end all wars, and he was the only one who knew it.
"I didn't actually want you dead," he mumbled, reminiscing back to the scene in the basement with all the angry faces. All the dirty grins. The proud boys looking down on bleeding Jimin. Fuck, he was gonna be sick again. "Or when I did, I didn't assume that someone was gonna actually try to kill you. And I-- I'm so sorry. I-I'm..."
"I know," Jimin just said, trying to move his wrist a little. He winced, and Taehyung glowered at him, grabbing it and putting it back by his side. Stop moving, his eyes growled. "I'm surprised Yoongi didn't lynch you first."
"He almost did," Taehyung snorted, feeling his ear hurt under the dumb bandage he'd wrapped like ten times around his head, making him look like a fucking mummy. "He wasn't even that late. Jesus, Jimin; he has to be in love with you or something. I can't be the only one who's noticed."
Jimin laughed heartily, then coughed as the laughing caused him pain, and Taehyung laughed too because he looked funny, having to hold his ear because it burned every time his head moved more than a millimetre. They were both pretty ridiculous right now.
"Guess the cuts 'n bruises I always sport don't look so bad compared to yours now, huh? You gonna start collecting 'em?" He suggested, carefully touching a stitch on Jimin's ribs. Jimin hissed, glaring at him, and he apologized.
"Please, these are enough to last me a lifetime."
"I agree. Collecting scars are my thing, so you can just fuck off."
He saw Jimin smile out of the corner of his eye, and realized he was smiling too, really wide and almost making it painful for his ear. Stupid fucking ear. Why did it have to be an extremity anyways? What purpose did the ugly shell serve?
Right before they both passed out from exhaustion, Taehyung could smell the food rotting from the fridge all the way from up in his room; the result of his Mom leaving over three weeks ago.
*
Namjoon and Jungkook gave him written letters of apology. He found them in his locker on his first day back, scrawled, messy handwriting running down a whole A4 piece of paper, and really it was pretty impressive, because he wasn't sure they could even read. It didn't mean he didn't want to kill them, but he knew they'd done it under orders.
And speaking of orders, he sat down at his usual bench at lunch time, right next to Hoseok, who looked strained, his face tired as he spotted Taehyung sitting next to him. He got up and folded his arms, eyes piercing. Taehyung remained seated, busy counting up the money Namjoon had provided him with to cover the bickie hijack. He'd paid him in Yen instead of Won, and of course Namjoon couldn't make up for fucking up without fucking up one last time.
"Taehyung," Hoseok said, still staring. Taehyung ignored him, folding the money up and pulling out his notebook where he kept track of all the transactions. He had yet to approach Jungkook and ask him if he wanted to take over for Namjoon, but he supposed he could do that later. Maybe if he made Jungkook buy banchan and soup to bring to Jimin he'd consider keeping him in the loop. Not that his entire loop wasn't already a big mess. "Taehyung!"
"Hoseok," He acknowledged, annoyed at the loud volume. He bothered to lift his eyes for a second, finding an angry face there and a slightly weird aura.
"You gotta leave," Hoseok said smoothly, glaring down at him. Taehyung put his stuff away, leaning his arms on his knees. It was clear that Hoseok still feared him. Hoseok knew why he was the leader in the first place. What he could do. He was treading lightly. "You're not a part of us anymore."
Taehyung quirked up an eyebrow, and only then did he notice the two newbies standing beside his friend, no smiles and all muscles. Insurance. He spotted Namjoon in the distance, staying out of it. Jungkook, too, stood still by a tree as he just watched.
"What?"
"We don't need pussies in our gang, man. Much less faggots. And you're both."
The words weren't any less painful just because there was truth to them. In fact, they made him angry. But Hoseok would have known they would make him angry, because he just snapped his fingers and the two kids on his right marched up to Taehyung and ripped his backpack open, pulling his cash and notebook out and handing them over to Hoseok. Taehyung stared at him, but knew defeat when he saw it. It was just that he'd never been on that end of the spectrum before. He was always the one snapping his fingers.
"You're all so fuckin' cheap," he muttered, getting up from the bench. The two boys raised their guards, covering for Hoseok while eyeing Taehyung with caution. Hoseok had probably told them what he’d done to the guy who had been bugging Jimin on the roof on Tuesday. Or at least, he hoped he had. How many people could say they’d ripped a dick off using nothing but a well-timed wedgie?
"Mad you don't have any dogs to push around anymore?" Hoseok snickered, grinning at the image of Taehyung overpowered three to one. "Don't make a scene now."
For the first time in his life, Taehyung didn't make a scene. He kind of wanted to, because Hoseok had the nerve to almost kill his person and then chuck him out of what he'd created in the first place, but something in the back of his mind told him that he didn't care enough. Shouldn’t care enough.
He grabbed his bag and walked away, heading straight home. Probably the exact opposite of making a scene, in his opinion. He didn't even spit his gum at them as he passed.
*
Taehyung lay next to Jimin on his bed again, eyes glued to the ceiling as he tried processing what had happened at school. He'd only really gone there to get his money from the locker, and maybe his smokes. He'd come home without it. And without the sum of his whole life accomplishments. Even three days later, that was still bitter. He didn't want to go back, though. To school. Like, ever.
"Yoongi won't stop calling," Jimin said with a laugh, throwing his buzzing phone away. God, it was so good to hear him laughing again. Sometimes Taehyung felt like nobody except him and Jimin ever laughed in that place. "He thinks you're keeping me hostage."
"I am, haven't you noticed?" Taehyung said, sticking his tongue out at him. "That's why I'm not letting you leave."
"Your jokes are all so shit," Jimin said with a snort, but hissed when he moved and his arms were in pain again. Taehyung paled, gluing him back down and feeling mad because Jimin had made himself hurt.
"Fuck you," he said softly, plopping back down next to him and staring at the stitches. A sense of relief washed over him when he recognized that they were healing nicely and no infection had come to loiter around.
Jimin sighed, the sound putting Taehyung at ease. He'd never thought he'd be there a year ago. He had no clue where he'd be, but definitely not there. Next to Jimin, not killing him. Admiring how his pretty eyelashes bounced every time he blinked and wanting to cook a meal for him even though he hated cooking and he had like one rotten egg in his fridge tops. He almost wanted Jimin to head-butt him again, just for the hell of it. Maybe to make them even, even though what Jimin had gone through was way worse than anything he'd ever put Taehyung through. He couldn't believe he'd misjudged his crew like that. Psychotic killers, the lot of them, apparently. Fucking christ.
"Hey," Taehyung started, turning around to face Jimin, who looked like he was preoccupied trying to stare a hole into the wall. Very serious business. "Hey," he tried again, nudging Jimin carefully in the side where he didn't have a bandaged gash. "Baby."
Jimin jolted his head towards him, frowning and offended. "Don't you 'baby' me," he mumbled, a faint colour rising in his cheeks as he stayed sideways to look Taehyung in the eye. Taehyung would take a stab and say he actually liked it, no pun intended. Jeez, low blow, Taehyung.
"But I just got kicked out of my gang, baby," Taehyung said with a calculated pout, reaching out to play with the cute, chubby fingers on Jimin's left hand. "I'm sad."
"If it makes you feel any better, I got demoted too."
"They demoted the almighty Babyboy Gang Leader?" Taehyung said with a fake gasp, but hissed when Jimin punched him in the shoulder. Really hard. Harder than he'd thought a temporary cripple could do. "Ow, the fuck was that for?"
"I hate being here. I hate being stuck with you." Jimin sighed, rolling over to his other side in the hopes of not seeing Taehyung anymore.
Taehyung saw his shoulders slump, feeling moot all of a sudden and leaning up to allow himself to creep closer to the small lump resting next to him. He frowned, placing a tentative kiss on the boy's shoulder, then nosing into him like he was the Tramp and he wasn't raised right. He could see the colour spreading on Jimin's cheek and smiled to himself.
"Baby," he said again, softer this time. Jimin didn't protest as he leaned down to kiss him on the cheek, the warm skin soothing his dry lips. He turned Jimin's head up to be able to plant a kiss right on his mouth, Jimin leaning into him unintentionally as the warm body hugged him from behind. His smile was difficult to spot, but impossible to un-see. Maybe not hating Jimin wasn't so bad. He'd just have to apologize to him five hundred and fifty-two times first. "Hey."
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