Debt of a Body
The club was chaos—neon lights bleeding into smoke, bodies pressed too close, eyes hungry for anything that glittered. But 𝗝𝗶𝗺𝗶𝗻 was calm. Dangerous calm.
He was stretched out on the velvet sofa like he owned the place, white silk shirt half undone, pale skin glowing under the low light. A 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗻 hung loose at his throat. In his lap, a small white cat purred as his fingers lazily stroked its fur.
Everywhere, eyes followed him. Hungry, shameless, devouring him like prey 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗻’𝘁 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵.
And Jimin knew. Of course, he knew. Attention wasn’t something he chased—it clung to him. Like smoke. Like sin.
The crowd might as well have been drooling, but he didn’t care. Not when the only thing that made him smile was the cat curled against his thigh.
Jung Ho-seok
Unbelievable.
The voice came from his right. Hoseok slid into the booth beside him, tossing himself onto the sofa like he belonged there. Jimin only turned his head slightly, lips quirking.
𝗛𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗸—everyone else called him J-Hope—was the 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝗻. He had grown up with Jimin in this place, both of them children in a world that ate children alive. Back when Jimin had first been sold into the club at fifteen, Hoseok had been the only one who treated him like a 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻, not a commodity. That bond had never broken.
Jung Ho-seok
You brought the cat 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻?
Hoseok asked, eyeing the creature like it was a scandal waiting to happen.
Park Jimin
She’s not a cat
Jimin corrected smoothly, settling deeper into the cushions like a king on his throne.
Park Jimin
Her name is 𝗟𝘂𝗻𝗮. Not the cat. Try using it.
Jung Ho-seok
Luna doesn’t belong in a club full of 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘀.
Jung Ho-seok
Do you know how many 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘁𝘀 I’ve heard already? Half the men here think you’ve lost your mind. They’re saying your attention isn’t on them anymore.
Jimin chuckled softly, scratching the cat’s ear.
Park Jimin
Good. Let them 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗸𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘁.
Jung Ho-seok
Don’t play dumb
Hoseok muttered, reaching for the glass in front of him.
Jung Ho-seok
If someone complains to the 𝗯𝗼𝘀𝘀 again, Luna will disappear. You know how this place works.
For a second, the threat lingered between them, heavy as smoke.
Then Jimin laughed light, musical, but wrong in a way that made people shiver.
Park Jimin
They won’t touch her. Not unless they want me to burn this whole club to ash.
Jung Ho-seok
God, you’re 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞.
Hoseok downed the drink, shaking his head.
Jimin tilted his head, watching the 𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 across the room.
Park Jimin
But don’t confuse things, Hobi. They don’t 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲. They love this..
He dragged a hand down his own chest with theatrical slowness, smirking when several men looked away too late.
Park Jimin
𝗠𝘆 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆. 𝗠𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲. 𝗠𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝗶𝘀𝗲. 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗹. 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿.
The way he said it sent a chill. His tone was both playful and poisonous, truth wrapped in silk. Hoseok sighed, downing his drink.
Jung Ho-seok
You talk like you’re 𝗻𝗼𝘁 even 𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻 sometimes.
Jimin replied simply, eyes glinting as he lifted the cat to his lips and kissed its head.
Park Jimin
𝗵𝘂𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘀 break. I don’t.
Hoseok didn’t argue. He just looked at him—his friend, his ghost, his star and curse. Jimin, who had been sold to a stranger at 𝗳𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 and had smiled through it all. Jimin, who drew every eye in the room and pretended it was a crown instead of a cage.
Hoseok was watching him too long, eyes softer than they should be in a place like this. Finally, he asked
Jung Ho-seok
You’re going again today?
Jimin didn’t even glance at him. He tapped ash into the tray, lips curving faintly.
Park Jimin
It’s 𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆, Hobi. When do I ever miss my Sunday visits? You already know the answer. So why ask and bore me?
There was no malice in his voice, only exhaustion coated with mockery. Hoseok set his glass down with a sigh.
Jung Ho-seok
Stop throwing your money at that hospital, Jimin. You’re wasting yourself for nothing.
Jimin tilted his head, finally meeting his gaze. His eyeliner smudged from the smoke and sweat only made his eyes more dangerous.
Park Jimin
And what should I do instead? Strip my skin off and sell it? Because that’s the only way I’ll ever pay back the 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗲 they 𝘀𝗼𝗹𝗱 me for.
His laugh came sharp, bitter.
Park Jimin
Even if I spent the next twenty years opening my legs for strangers, it still wouldn’t cover the cost. You know that.
The words landed heavy. Hoseok’s throat tightened, his fingers twitching against the glass.
Jung Ho-seok
If I had that kind of 𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘆, Jimin… you’d never live like this. I wouldn’t let them—
Jimin cut him off with a sudden grin, crawling into his lap without warning like the world owed him intimacy. His cat slipped off onto the sofa with an annoyed flick of its tail. Jimin’s arms hooked lazily around Hoseok’s shoulders, and he tilted his head back with laughter.
Park Jimin
You’re the only idiot in this world who 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝗲. That’s cute.
Hoseok’s face softened despite himself. He brushed Jimin’s hair back, tucking the strands behind his ear, his thumb grazing the delicate skin of his jaw.
Jung Ho-seok
You’re more than this, Jimin. You’re—
Jimin pouted, cutting him off again. His glossy lips pushed forward, childlike and shameless.
Park Jimin
That’s the word you were looking for. Not cute. Look at me—smudged lipstick, see-through shirt, thighs out. I’m sin in heels, Hobi. You should say it right.
Hoseok chuckled helplessly, his hand still resting on the back of Jimin’s head.
Jung Ho-seok
No matter how you dress or what mask you wear, 𝗠𝗼𝗰𝗵𝗶… you’ll always be cute to me. You can try to be fire, but you’ll always be my soft boy underneath.
For a second, something cracked behind Jimin’s expression. He tightened his arms around Hoseok, almost desperately. Then he shook it off, wriggling like a spoiled child.
Park Jimin
Enough. Let me go—I’m 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲.
Jung Ho-seok
Late for what? *voice darkened*
Jimin slid out of his lap, adjusting his shirt like nothing had happened.
Park Jimin
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗻 who bought me. The man who still holds the answer to what he did with the money after selling me like flesh at an auction. He’s the only one who can tell me.
Jimin grabbed his cat, cradling it with a smile too sweet for the poison in his words.
Park Jimin
Don’t stop me, Hobi. You can’t.
Hoseok reached out, straightening the collar of his shirt like he always did. His eyes lingered a moment too long on Jimin’s face.
Jung Ho-seok
Fine. But promise me you’ll be careful.
Jimin leaned forward suddenly, pressing a 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀 to Hoseok’s cheek. His lips were warm, scented with smoke and wine.
He whispered, smirking as he pulled back.
Park Jimin
But you know me. 𝗜’𝗺 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹.
And with his cat in his arms and his perfume trailing behind, Jimin walked out of the club, heels clicking against marble like the sound of a 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝘂𝗶𝗻.
Author
Brace yourselves, because the chapter you’ve all been waiting for is almost here… Jimin and Jungkook’s first meeting.
Author
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Comments
bts forever💜 tk 💚💜
thanks for update and excited for there first meet love you author❤ story is amazing
2025-09-07
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