The Bloody Alley
It was another goddamn night soaked in neon lights and street smoke. The kind of night where blood smelled sharper, and betrayal tasted bitterer.
Taehyung stood in the middle of the alley, chest heaving, blade glinting under the flickering streetlight. His dark brown hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat and blood—none of which was his. Well, mostly.
Kim Taehyung
Come on, assholes.
( he snarled, spinning the knife in his hand with ease.)
Kim Taehyung
Let’s make it quick. I’ve got a lollipop to get back to.
Three burly men surrounded him. Members of the Kang crew. Petty low-lives trying to stake claim on Taehyung’s turf. Big mistake.
One of them lunged. Taehyung ducked, slid between his legs, and slashed upward. A scream tore through the air as the man dropped, clutching his thigh.
Kim Taehyung
Aw, what’s wrong? Lost your balls?
(Taehyung mocked, his lips curling into a feral grin.)
Kim Taehyung
Come on. I’m still bored.
One of them pulled out a bat. The other a gun. That sobered Taehyung for a moment.
Kim Taehyung
Cute. You brought a toy to a knife fight.
(he muttered, heart pounding.)
He wasn’t stupid. A bullet to the chest would end him, badass or not. But damned if he’d go down begging.
He charged at the gunman first.
Suddenly, a sleek black car screeched to a halt at the end of the alley. The headlights bathed them all in blinding white, freezing the attackers mid-motion. Taehyung didn’t stop. He jabbed his knife into the gunman’s arm, grabbed the weapon as it fell, and pointed it at the one with the bat.
The guy ran.
Taehyung stood there, panting, blood trickling down his cheek from a nick above his eyebrow. He looked over at the car. The passenger door opened.
Jeon Jungkook stepped out like he was walking off a magazine cover—black suit, no tie, shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a tattoo peeking out beneath his collarbone. Cold eyes. Sharp jawline. And a presence that made the air thinner.
Taehyung’s eyes narrowed.
Kim Taehyung
Who the hell are you supposed to be? Another pretty bastard with too much money and not enough brains?
(he said, flipping the safety on the stolen gun and tucking it in his waistband.)
Kim Taehyung
Sorry, I’m not into mafia brats with savior complexes.
Jeon Jungkook
(Jungkook smirked.)
You talk a lot for someone bleeding.
Kim Taehyung
You stare a lot for someone uninvited.
Jungkook took a few steps forward, looking at the bodies on the ground, then at Taehyung’s face. Bloodied, bruised, beautiful.
He had seen all kinds of people—killers, soldiers, traitors—but none like this. A wild animal in human skin. Fire in his veins. And something else… a flicker. Hidden. Fragile. He didn't know what it was, but it stirred something dark and possessive in him.
Jeon Jungkook
Name?
(Jungkook asked.)
Kim Taehyung
Why? You planning to write me love letters?
Jeon Jungkook
(Jungkook’s smirk widened.)
Maybe.
Kim Taehyung
(Taehyung scoffed.)
Tch. Freak.
He turned and walked away, limping slightly.
Jeon Jungkook
(Jungkook watched, then said casually.)
You handled yourself well. But you were two seconds away from taking a bullet.
Kim Taehyung
(Taehyung paused. His back still to him.)
Yeah. And yet here I am. Walking. While they’re pissing themselves.
Jeon Jungkook
(Jungkook chuckled.)
I like you.
Kim Taehyung
Don’t. I bite.
Jeon Jungkook
Good. I heal fast.
Taehyung muttered something rude under his breath and disappeared around the corner.
In the heart of Seoul, inside a sleek skyscraper lit by cold blues and silvers, Jungkook sat in his office with a glass of whiskey in hand.
Namjoon stood across from him, arms crossed.
Namjoon
You stopped the convoy. For a street fight.
Jeon Jungkook
I didn’t stop. I paused.
( Jungkook said calmly.)
Namjoon
You paused a weapons deal to watch some punk with a knife fight gangsters in an alley?
Jeon Jungkook
He’s not just ‘some punk.’
Namjoon
(Namjoon sighed.)
Please tell me you’re not about to get distracted by a pretty face again.
Jeon Jungkook
He wasn’t scared.
(Jungkook said, eyes distant.)
He was outnumbered, bleeding, probably in pain—but he didn’t flinch. Not once.
Namjoon
(Namjoon raised an eyebrow.)
So now you’re into reckless masochists?
Jeon Jungkook
(Jungkook’s voice dropped.)
No. I’m into him.
Namjoon
(Namjoon blinked.)
You just met him.
Jeon Jungkook
I know what I saw. I want him.
Namjoon
Want, or obsess over, boss?
Jeon Jungkook
(Jungkook looked up slowly, something dangerous flickering in his eyes.)
Find out who he is. Where he lives. Who he runs with.
Namjoon
(Namjoon muttered.)
Here we go again.
...( and left the room.)
Jungkook sat back in his chair, replaying every second of their encounter. That blood-slicked smirk. Those sharp words. The way he didn't cower even when death was knocking.
Mine, he thought.
He just didn’t know how yet—but he was going to make Kim Taehyung his.
Taehyung sat in the corner of an abandoned building, lighting a cigarette with shaking fingers. His gang members were asleep around him. His knife lay on the floor, blood dried.
He stared at the flame, his gaze vacant.
A small plushie with a torn ear lay next to his bag. A comfort item.
Kim Taehyung
(In the silence, a soft voice escaped him.)
Don’t hurt me... please... I’ll be good...
He didn’t even realize he was slipping into little space. His body curled slightly, and he gripped the plushie tighter.
The tough, fearless gangster was gone for just a moment.
Then a loud bang outside jolted him back. He gasped, wide-eyed, clutching his chest.
Kim Taehyung
(He sat up straighter, cursing softly.)
No. Not now. Not ever. Get it together, Tae.
No one could ever find out. That part of him had to stay buried.
Especially now… with someone like Jeon Jungkook lurking around.
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