Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Namjoon has a newfound enemy.

It’s a big guy, one that he’s really getting frustrated battling every single day. No amount of bullets could penetrate its skull, no drug would ever be enough to make it self-combust. It’s getting into Namjoon's nerves how this newfound foe of his is literally taking everything away from him right after he got discharged from the hospital.

It starts with a big fat fucking G and ends with a stupid T. Guilt.

Particularly, Jimin’s guilt.

Namjoon knows that his boyfriend cares about him. Jimin has been treating him even more carefully after he got shot, more so, when he got discharged from the hospital a week later. Like a super duper fragile piece of glass, Namjoon has been regarded like he’s made of porcelain, and for the better part of it, he appreciates it. Namjoon likes the doting.

But, there is a fine line between too much and goddamn suffocating.

Namjoon hasn’t been allowed to leave Jimin’s sight ever since he got discharged. The flower shop is currently being manned by the lovely girls Namjoon has for employees, and while he has full faith that Jihyo, his lovely assistant, could handle things while he’s recovering, Namjoon misses his plants. He built that shop as his refuge—his safe haven. And Jimin wouldn’t even allow him to see it.

Namjoon hasn’t even been in his own house for the past few weeks. He’s basically moved in with Jimin in the mansion, and while he wouldn’t usually complain about that, there’s only so much of Jimin he could take in a single day. An extra committed Jimin at that, one that’s literally two missed meals from spoon feeding Namjoon himself.

Namjoon misses his autonomy. He wants it back.

But his big ol’ fucking friend doesn’t stop there. Jimin’s guilt also extends in some other areas. One of those was in the bedroom. And Namjoon gets it, he’s under strict instructions to regain full health for the next two months which means he couldn’t get railed for the next eight weeks (maybe death was better if you asked Namjoon, which was apparently a very bad joke according to Jimin, causing him to give Namjoon a solid 20-minute scolding), but goddammit, Jimin wouldn’t even touch him.

He’s always afraid of hurting Namjoon, which was nothing short of dreadful considering Namjoon has been perpetually horny and even if he might not get railed (yet), Jimin certainly knows several other ways to have Namjoon come undone. And. he’s. not. doing. anything.

This fucking sucks. Namjoon is never going to get shot again.

“Does Jimin even know you’re here?”

Was the first thing Taehyung said to his brother the moment he came home to his apartment and realized that he wasn’t alone. Instead of having a heart attack due to an intruder, however, Taehyung suddenly feared for his life the instant he saw his brother and realized that Namjoon might be here without permission. 

“If he did, then I wouldn’t be here.”

Oh shit, Taehyung was gonna die. Jimin would blow his fucking roof off.

“Hyung,” Taehyung gulps, crouching beside his older brother who’s currently lounging on his couch that’s facing his floor-to-ceiling windows, carefully cupping Namjoon’s face to get him to look at him and see the palpable terror swimming in Taehyung’s eyes. “I love you, you know that. I’ve always liked you more than I like Seokjin hyung. But Joonie, I don’t want to die. If your boyfriend finds out that I’m housing a fugitive, he’s going to hang me by my balls using a captain’s hook and I—”

“He won’t do that to you, dumbass. I won’t let him. Have a little more faith in me.” Namjoon snorts, smacking Taehyung against his nape. “But you know who’d kill you? Seokjin hyung. That’s right, I’m telling him you said you liked me more.”

Namjoon smirks as Taehyung’s face blanches. 

“You have no evidence to support your baseless claim, I am not guilty.” Taehyung refutes, acting like the last fifteen seconds didn’t just happen. Namjoon snickers at his brother. “But hyung, while I really don’t mind you barging into my apartment, may I at least know what’s up with the sudden visit?”

Namjoon sighs deeply, almost dramatically, as he looks ahead at his brother’s view. “I’m just exhausted, Tae-tae.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You’ve literally just been lying around all day?”

He gets another smack to his nape for that. “Not like that, you fucker,” Namjoon grumbles, reaching out to hit his brother again, before Taehyung jumps away with a yelp. “I’m exhausted at being in that mansion 25 hours a day, eight fucking times a week.”

Understanding suddenly floods Taehyung’s eyes. While he himself might have been busy, he has checked up on his hyung from time to time, and the last time they spoke, Namjoon told Taehyung of how suffocated he was feeling. That was four days ago already, and he had no idea it would reach a point wherein Namjoon would gladly run away to Taehyung’s home.

“Hyung, come here,” Taehyung scoots closer to him on the couch, opening his arms for his big brother that undoubtedly acted like the youngest between the three of them. The cutest, too. (Don’t tell Seokjin). “Come on, tell me what’s bothering you.”

So Namjoon does. He opens up to Taehyung about how he feels these past few weeks. More so, he tells his brother of his current shaky relationship with Jimin, one that’s founded on the rocky roads of guilt and angry pavements of self-deprecation. He tells Taehyung how the whole fiasco made Jimin sad and incessantly worried, which in turn made Namjoon sad and anxious, too. And now, they’re both just two sad lumps trying to co-exist on the same bed. One driven with remorse, the other driven with the need for some intimacy and human contact that’s being deprived from him out of fear.

Throughout it all, Taehyung just listens. Ever the attentive brother. If Namjoon was looking for some immediate action—something more on the impulsive note—he would have gone to Seokjin. But Taehyung knows that his brother came to him because he just wanted someone to share his burdens to, a shoulder to lean on perhaps.

So that’s why Taehyung’s voice is soft as he cards his fingers through his no-longer-that-injured brother’s hair once he’s done speaking. “Joonie hyung, I understand. I’m sorry you’re dealing with that but with all due respect,” Taehyung sighs. “I think you can tell Jimin about this. I’m 100% sure he’s going to listen to you.”

“Can I, really? I’m scared that that’ll only push him away even more.” Namjoon mumbles. He doesn’t want to add more to Jimin’s heavy heart. “I know he already feels guilty, but he’s creating oceans between us already, and this fucking sucks.” 

Taehyung chokes out a pained noise from the back of his throat. He hated seeing any of his brothers sad.

“Well, you guys just need to talk. Communicate a little better.” Taehyung advises gently, not even assertively. Just like a guardian angel whispering softly to Namjoon’s ear what he ought to do to make things right. (Again, if Namjoon needed the devil’s push, he would have gone to Seokjin). “You can’t erase the worry he feels, but what you can do is to make a compromise. Jimin loves you so much, hyungie, he’ll listen to you. Remember, he has the right to know how his boyfriend feels about a relationship he’s equal parts in too. This isn’t fair to him.”

The feeling of Taehyung’s gentle fingers brushing against his hair paired with his deep baritone voice that never had any intention to harm his hyung causes Namjoon to submit easily.

“Okay, you’re right. I’ll try.” He no longer bothers putting on a fight, because Taehyung had a point. “He deserves to know, doesn’t he?”

Taehyung nods his head, glad that his brother has always kept such an open mind and a big heart. “Yes, he does. You guys have been together for years, and being more open to each other isn’t anything new to you both. Jimin would only feel more guilty once he realizes that you’ve been silently hurting because of him. Besides, it’s not like—”

“Taehyungie hyung!”

Both men on the couch jolted on their spots upon hearing that booming voice from outside Taehyung’s door. It came along with harsh poundings that sounded more like someone’s trying to excavate Taehyung’s whole apartment down.

“Oh what the hell? Another trespasser?” The owner of the house grumbles, still clutching his chest from the shock as he scurries off to the front door.

He doesn’t even look through the peephole, because there’s only one person in this world who had enough courage to barge into Taehyung’s house like this. Well, at least, except his brothers.

“Taehyungie hyung, holy shit, hi,” Jungkook sighs, trying to smile through the panic in his eyes, as the door finally opens to an amused looking owner. “Please tell me Namjoonie hyung is here.”

Taehyung raises a brow teasingly, leaning against his door with his arms crossed but without opening it too wide for Jungkook to see who’s inside. “And what do I get if I say yes, gorgeous?”

“Hyung, please,” Jungkook begged, sounding so close to tears. “Jimin hyung threatened to cut one of my balls off if I don’t find him in the next hour. Just one, hyung. Can you imagine having one ball, that’s even weirder than having no balls!”

Taehyung hums pensively, looking serious as he ponders upon the sentiment. Namjoon barely hides a snort behind his hand from where he’s watching this whole comedy show unfold.

“Hmm, I can’t make a verdict. I haven’t seen anyone with just one ball.” Taehyung bemuses, before he smirks at a still panting Jungkook at his door. “But I know for a fact that everything about you is pretty, Kookie, and any part of you would greatly be missed if chopped off.”

“O-Oh.” Namjoon rolls his eyes so hard, he sees the back of his head. Only Jungkook would be blushing over some ball-talk. “Wait, h-hyung, you know I would usually be down to show you how pretty I am, but I can’t do that if Jimin castrates me. So please, please, tell me that your brother is here.”

Unable to stand it anymore, Namjoon finally clears his throat.

“I’m here, Jungkook-ah,” He calls out, and Taehyung takes that moment to finally open his door wider. “You don’t have to fear for your dick anymore.”

Taehyung could almost taste the palpable relief that flooded Jungkook’s face the moment he saw his favorite flower shop owner.

“Hyung, oh my god,” He screeches, not even waiting for Taehyung’s invitation as he barrels into his house, jumping straight into Namjoon’s arms with a loud ‘oof’. “I love you so much, I’m so happy you’re alive. We’re both gonna be alive!” Jungkook exclaims, and not one to miss out on the celebration, Taehyung joins the cuddle pile, hugging Namjoon like the last time he saw them was two lifetimes ago.

“Hmm, and I’m guessing you’re here to pick me up?” Namjoon says blankly, although his fingers card through his two baby’s hair. No matter how annoying and scandalous they are, Namjoon’s heart is truly too fond of these two. So cute.

Just like that, Jungkook remembers his original mission. “Yeah, I’m under strict orders to bring you back to the mansion before 15:00.” He glances down at his wristwatch, realizing that he’s running out of time before Jimin slashes him with an axe. “Shit, we have to go, hyungie. Come on!”

Jungkook abruptly stands up, and Namjoon expects to be helped up to his feet…

But not being carried up bridal-style by their resident muscle bunny.

“Wait, w-what the fuck are you doing, Jungkook-ah?!” Namjoon screeches as his arms automatically find refuge on Jungkook’s shoulders. Taehyung leans down to support Namjoon’s back, immediately helping his cutie carry his hyung properly.

“Oh, I’m also under strict instructions that you must not be using any bone in your body that doesn’t need to be used.” Jungkook grins innocently, not like he’s carrying a 85 kg bulky man in his arms. What the actual fuck? “I figured you didn’t need your legs.”

Jungkook is already making his way out the door, pecking Taehyung’s cheek in apology, and murmuring how he’ll make it up to him soon. He just needed to deliver precious cargo before he lost his pool of children.

Namjoon yelps again when the kid literally begins running out the door. “Jungkookie, what the hell—” 

“Bye, Kook-ah, come see me again soon!” Taehyung smiles and waves, big and wide, as if this scene is nothing new. “Bye Joonie hyung, I love you and take care, remember what we talked about!”

“—Oh my god, put me down, this is absolutely mortifying and—bye, Tae-tae, I bought you some Oreo-O Cereals on my way here by the way, love you too!—Jungkook, jesus, I feel so humiliated, I can fucking walk!”

“No can do, hyungie, come on.”

Jungkook zooms past Taehyung’s hallway, to the elevators, and finally to his car. They see Taehyung waving at them from the windows, but Jungkook is running faster than the Flash himself, driven by a fear of the 5’8” demon that comes out when a certain someone doesn’t have his boyfriend right by his side.

They drive away at a speed that would surely have them fined if the gang didn’t basically own Seoul’s Police Department themselves.

“Kook,” Namjoon grips the handlebar at the front seat tightly, his knuckles white from how fast Jungkook was speeding through the highway. “Slow down, where’s Jimin, by the way?”

Jungkook doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “He’s… in the middle of a lecture.”

That… that’s their code when they’re in the middle of a big, deadly transaction that could either go marvelously successfully or horrendously wrong. It’s so important that it required the presence of the gang leader himself. So that’s why Jimin isn’t out here looking for me himself.

“Hmm,” Namjoon hums pensively. “Take me to him, will you?”

At that, Jungkook takes a quick glance at his hyung, bewildered. “But hyung, I-I was told to bring you straight to the mansion and—”

“Trust me, I won’t let Jimin blame you.” Namjoon calms him down. He simply doesn’t want to prolong their talk anymore. “I just need to see him right now, please.”

Jungkook could only sigh in defeat. He knows better than to argue with Namjoon, lest he wanted his hyung to unleash his meanest pout and Jungkook can handle fifteen bullets shooting straight at him, but not that. Not the Kim brothers’ most lethal weapon.

Besides, if Jimin finds out Jungkook disobeyed Namjoon, he’s sure that it’s not only his balls that he would finally say goodbye to.

“Fine.” Jungkook sighs, immediately turning left as he switches direction. Namjoon yelps at the sudden turn. “As long as you make me the most beautiful bouquet for my date with Taehyungie next week.”

Namjoon laughs once his heart is back inside his ribcage. This kid should have been a drift racer instead of a hacker. “Oh Jungkook-ah, don’t worry, hyung’s got your back.”

__________

As nonchalant as Jimin seemed, he had eyes in every corner of the room.

He seems stoic, focused on the people he’s transacting with in this dingy strip club’s private room that serves as the perfect decoy for their trades. The men in front of him were foreigners, big-time they said, and Jimin had his own interpreter right by his side to communicate his terms. Jimin’s face is passive, even annoyed, because he’s been in this meeting for the past hour and a half and he still didn’t know if Namjoon was found already. Although he trusts Jungkook with it, Jimin simply wants to see Namjoon for himself and probably punish the florist for—

No, wait, I can’t punish him. Jimin muses silently. I don’t think he’s even healed yet.

(It’s been three months now, Namjoon is more than healed, hell, he’s even ready to have his ass shot again.)

So given their circumstances, Jimin’s temper is on the edge of flaring. He’s quite apprehensive right now, and that annoyance is currently being projected to these men right in front of him who are trying hard to bargain with Jimin’s terms to lean more towards their favor. But, right now, no one’s leaving this room until Jimin gets what he wants.

(Which, more than anything, is just Namjoon’s safety.)

Though despite the sheer size of this venue, the silent opening of one of the back doors still managed to capture his attention. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but Jimin is always hyper aware during situations like these. Knowing that one wrong move and a whole… breakout could occur.

So one could most definitely say that from that miniscule movement, Jimin never expected to see his trusty righthandman ushering his boyfriend right inside this room.

What the— Jimin balks silently. What the fuck is Namjoon doing here?

There’s always a danger to these transactions, proven with the number of armed men surrounding them, even more that Jimin himself couldn’t see right now. His eyes couldn’t help but flicker towards the incoming visitors, capturing the attention of the foreigners right in front of him.

“What the, who is that?” One of the older, balding men squints his eyes as Namjoon swings by to join them. Jimin’s men immediately make way for the flower shop owner without waiting for a single command.

“Hello, I’m sorry, I’m late.” Namjoon says in perfect English, giving the men a polite nod before fixing his eyes right at his boyfriend. “I was starting to wonder what took you so long.” He then says in Korean, only to Jimin.

The other men’s eyes further widened when Namjoon basically plastered himself on Jimin’s lap. The gang leader simply wrapped his arms around Namjoon’s waist like muscle memory, though Jimin himself is still quite stunned to see the florist here today. “Oh, I was just—”

“Mr. Park,” One of the heads of the other team cuts through, and when Jimin looks at him, the older man seems to be eyeing Namjoon from head to toe. “You didn’t inform us that we were allowed to bring our own whores for today.”

Namjoon subtly stiffens from where he’s seated, Jimin only notices it because Namjoon’s body was leaning against his. He waits for the interpreter to translate the old man’s words with a furrowed brow, and his scowl only turns deadly once the words finally make sense.

“I would be careful with what you’re saying, Mr. Adham.” Jimin says through gritted teeth. 

“Why? Is it not the truth?” The man taunts, blowing a smoke from his cigar in mockery.

Jimin was just about to respond, probably using his fists when Namjoon’s hand settled against his chest. Pushing him back before he starts an actual bloody brawl.

“Don’t.” The flower shop owner whispers, before he turns to the foreigner, an indignant snarl affixed on his face. “I do apologize for the misunderstanding, how rude of me not to introduce myself.” Namjoon clears his throat, the feeble smile doing nothing to counter the fire in his eyes. “I’m RM. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but that would be a lie.”

As expected, the foreigner pales, along with all his comrades. “R—RM?” 

Everyone from Mr. Adham’s team looks like they’re being faced by the king of the underworld himself. Well, not much, really. That would be Jimin.

But Namjoon has always been that little voice beside Jimin’s ear telling him what to do. And whatever he wants, Jimin always delivers. Always.

“Yes?” Namjoon smirks, loving the way everyone began to fidget on their seats the more he fixed them with his pointy eyes. “I’d much prefer you address me as RM instead of a mere whore.” Namjoon’s lips then flattened to a scowl. “Is that clear?”

That wasn’t a request, not even an order. It was either that or they died.

“Yes, I—” And Mr. Adham knew that. Given RM’s reputation, a torturous death wouldn’t be too out of the equation. “Forgive me. I had a lapse in my j-judgment. I didn’t mean to offend y-you, RM.”

It’s always thrilling to see people react this way about him. Namjoon has always been dainty. He didn’t like getting his hands dirty or bloodied—that was what Jimin was for. But Namjoon had a brain that always got the job done. That’s how he got people to respect him—to fear him.

Ever since he unofficially joined Jimin’s team, no one could ever fool the gang ever again. He was the brains of this group. Namjoon was a meticulous planner, an excellent manipulator, and such an intelligent decoder. His intellectual prowess was incomparable, and as an erudite at the very core, Namjoon was always three staircases ahead of the game. His intelligent mind was made for a world like this—it’s what his name made noise for in the underground. So when Jimin kept on coming back to Namjoon to ask for his help, he simply gave in.

It was fun, too. Leading the most powerful men and women to bend to their will.

All Namjoon requested was to simply remain anonymous and detached from the gang, at least on the surface. And he wanted a flower shop, too. Plants had always been Namjoon’s best friend, and Jimin figured that it was a small price to pay to thank his partner’s dedication to their deadly craft.

“Well if that’s the case then there’s no reason to prolong this meeting anymore,” Namjoon says, and his tone suggests that this conversation will now be over. Or else. “We’re done here, aren’t we? You have agreed to Jimin’s terms?”

They have not. They were still negotiating so hard with the gang leader’s terms. But the addition of the RM to their meeting only serves to cut off their remaining grit. All of them simply wish to leave.

“Yes, of course, all is well.” Mr. Adham nods, adjusting his suddenly choking tie. There are beads of sweat crystallizing on his wrinkled forehead, and Namjoon barely suppresses a sinister grin. “Pleasure to be doing business with you.”

Mr. Adham raises a shaky palm to Namjoon and Jimin for a handshake, but Namjoon only stares at it in amusement. Jimin keeps his face stoic, not moving a muscle until Namjoon does.

Eventually, the foreigner gets the message. Mr. Adham retracts his hand like a fool before scurrying off without another word, his team of big and bulky men trailing after him like spooked cats. Namjoon almost snorted at how the big ol’ man was so intimidated by him. So much for being the leader of external affairs of the most notorious drug traders from the Middle East.

“You didn’t have to tell him who you were.” Jimin utters the moment the door clicks. The remaining guards of his own gang turn around, stepping a few meters ahead without leaving the room in order to give their two bosses some privacy. 

“Darling, don’t be jealous,” Namjoon grins, leaning back against Jimin’s chest. “If he even makes the mistake of ratting me out to anyone, well then, Hyeron could use a new friend in his playpen, right?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” He says. “Not when he called you a whore, but when he found out that you’re RM.”

What Jimin was pertaining to is how anyone always looked at his blossom whenever they met the RM. It’s not a look of lust, Jimin doesn’t care much about that. Sometimes, he even dwells on those sinful looks. All these men and women can thirst over Namjoon yet his blossom was only his. But, no. The look Mr. Adham gave Namjoon was one of pure admiration, sprinkled in with flakes of jealousy and reverence. A whole dash of fear, too.

Men like them looked at Namjoon like they wanted to have him not because he was just a whore, but because Namjoon was a golden treasure, and every pirate had their eyes on the prize.

However, Namjoon only takes the sentiment in stride. He’s flattered, if not uncaring. His loyalty will always be with Jimin. “Hmm, because I’m only your whore, aren’t I?”

Namjoon turns around to swing his thick thighs over Jimin’s lap, facing his beloved with a teasing grin, and the gang leader almost groans out from how good Namjoon’s cock feels against his crotch.

But, “Blossom, wait,” Jimin grits out, manifesting his last shreds of control. “Not here.”

Ever the temptress, Namjoon even rolls his ass against Jimin’s tightening pants. Smirking as the gang leader barely holds back a hiss.

“Why not, Jimin-ah?” He inches closer, sighing the words against the man’s lips. “Don’t you want to put on a show? Don’t you want everyone to see how pretty I look when I ride you?”

“No,” Jimin growled possessively. “Besides, you’re not e-even—”

“If you say I’m not healed yet, I will break your ribs myself to show you how long overdue I am for a fuck,” Namjoon warns, eyes glinting with a frustrated warning. “Unless you just don’t want to touch me anymore.”

Jimin’s eyes widened. Hell will have to freeze over before he ever stops yearning for his blossom in every way possible. “No, it’s not that I don’t want to touch you.” He amends. “I’m just… worried, you know.”

Namjoon barely holds back another deep sigh, before he remembers exactly what he and Taehyung talked about before coming here.

“Jimin, baby, listen to me,” Namjoon says seriously, his vixen act deactivated for the meantime. “I get that you’re guilty, okay? That you’re worried about me a lot, and I appreciate that. But Min, don’t you think that this is all too much?”

Surprisingly, Jimin looked incredibly disheartened. “Too much?”

At that moment, Namjoon knew Taehyung was right. Not telling Jimin of his troubles was unfair. By being secretive, Namjoon is unknowingly hurting not just himself but his lover too. It’s high time for him to come clean, for both their sake. 

“See, this is why we have to talk.” Namjoon suddenly gets up, offering a hand to the gang leader. “Can you spare me an hour, baby?”

Jimin doesn’t think twice before intertwining their hands together. “Anything for you, blossom, come on.”

The ride to Jimin’s office was short. Namjoon had originally wanted to go to his own home, but the mansion was closer. Jimin leads them to his office as fast as he can, since Namjoon constantly expresses his urgency to talk about what’s wrong throughout the entire car ride. There’s a look of apprehensiveness in Jimin’s face that made Namjoon’s heart warm and simultaneously clench. 

He hated seeing Jimin sad, worried, or guilty. But at the same time, Namjoon is somewhat touched that this man right here can talk to the most dangerous people in the world with a straight face, and yet when Namjoon expresses that there’s so much as a small problem, the gang leader looked more terrified than a rat facing a rattlesnake head on.

Jimin cared about him so much, and this is why Namjoon took it upon himself to finally talk.

“So,” Jimin sits down on his leather couch, Namjoon taking the seat right beside him. “Care to tell me what’s wrong, blossom?”

So Namjoon does. He unfurls his heart to Jimin. Being open to his boyfriend was never a problem for the florist. Jimin might be cold and devious to others, but to Namjoon, he was receptive, he listened well, and he cared. Namjoon has absolutely no hesitations in telling Jimin everything. 

By the time Namjoon nearly finished his speech, his and Jimin’s hands were intertwined above his own knee. Jimin was looking at him intently with a mixture of both guilt and sadness, and Namjoon was tired of seeing that look on his face over and over again.

“…I know you care about me a lot, baby. But I miss you. Like I really, really missed you. I know you’re here physically, but I feel like there’s just this big wall between us now, Jimin-ah. Separating us. I hate it. I want you back in every sense of the word, and I’m not just talking about sex. The Jimin I know and remember respects me and my freedom too, and he wouldn’t cage me at home like some animal. I’m not mad, baby, I just want you to know that you have to stop feeling guilty now. It’s too much—it’s suffocating.”

When Namjoon finishes up, Jimin is looking at him with stricken eyes, his jaw clenched in an effort to stop himself from sobbing out his apologies.

“I’m sorry, blossom, I didn’t know you felt t-this way,” Jimin sighs out, sounding really disappointed in himself. “You’re right, I was just worried. And guilty. And scared. Maybe I’m even a bit traumatised too because god, waiting for you to wake up for five days was torture. I still have nightmares about it, Joon. So it scares me whenever you’re out of my sight—when I don’t know what’s gonna happen to you. I don’t wanna relive that feeling ever again.”

When you’re a bloody killer, you kind of stop believing in karma, lest you wanna go insane from thinking of all the sins you’d have to pay for. Jimin was like that, he didn’t believe in karma anymore, but watching Namjoon grapple for his life for five days straight kind of made Jimin think that this was finally God’s twisted punishment for him. He’s experienced cutting people off limb by limb, but Jimin thinks that watching his heart and soul—his whole world—battle death in silence is worst than any kind of torture he has ever inflicted.

Namjoon’s eyes soften. “I know, Minnie, I know. But I’m here, baby. We can work together to make sure that never happens again. You can even teach me more tricks to protect myself. But we can’t live in fear forever.”

“I’m sorry,” Jimin raises his hand—the one not holding Namjoon’s own palm—to cup his blossom’s face. “You’re right. I’m going overboard. I’m so sorry, baby, will you please find it in your heart to forgive me?”

Namjoon snuggles into his palm. “Hmm, kiss me first then I’ll tell you what I think.”

Jimin doesn’t waste another second. He pulls Namjoon close to allow their lips to meet in a soft and gentle kiss, one that a person may never expect to come from the lips of a sinner. Namjoon only sighs contentedly. He has missed Jimin’s kisses like these, where the smaller man simply allows his instincts to take the lead. Without worrying that Namjoon’s some type of fragile glassware he had to be wary of fracturing.

Not when Namjoon’s all perfectly healed.

Before Namjoon could even register it, Jimin’s pulling him to his lap. Legs thrown over Jimin’s thighs as he brackets the gang leader in between his legs. Without disconnecting their lips, Jimin’s hands fly to Namjoon’s ass to guide him to settle against his crotch, and Namjoon couldn’t help but moan.

“Ahhh, Minnie…”

“Blossom,” Jimin groans, softly kneading Namjoon’s plush ass as the flower shop owner begins a slow grind against his cock. “Do you think you can forgive me now?”

Namjoon shudders at a particular grind wherein both their slowly hardening cocks brush against each other. “That depends. Do you forgive me for running away earlier today?”

All of a sudden, Jimin smirks. “Uh-uh, not so quickly.” He says, and Namjoon wishes he could say that he’s surprised, but Jimin wouldn’t be Jimin if he weren’t a constant peril to Namjoon’s blooming life. “I think you deserve to be punished for being disobedient, don’t you think, baby?”

There’s the Jimin that Namjoon loved. “B-But, you were just so strict, I didn’t mean to disobey,” Namjoon resumes his grinding, trying to exaggerate his pout to get Jimin to soften up for him. It almost reminded him of his damsel in distress act when he was kidnapped. Namjoon supposes he’s getting better at it. “Please, I’m sorry…” A dramatic pause. “Hyungie.”

Fuck. Jimin’s eyes glint dangerously, and as if his hand had a life of its own, it swiftly lands a smack against Namjoon’s ass. The florist hisses at the sudden sensation. God, I missed that.

“You brat,” Jimin smacks him again, seeing the way Namjoon bit his lip in pleasure. “You think you can just butter up to me, huh? Think you can charm your way out of your punishment?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Namjoon squeaks as Jimin’s smacks keep on coming. “M’sorry, hyungie. Let me make it up to you. I’ll be good, I promise.”

There’s a flash of hesitation in Jimin’s eyes, but it’s gone as quick as it came. Namjoon didn’t hold it against him. He knows that a part of Jimin will still be scared, but this alone shows that at the very least, his boyfriend was willing to try.

“Then prove it,” Jimin says, pulling Namjoon in for another dirty kiss until there’s drool dripping down Namjoon’s chin. “On your knees, blossom, go on.”

Namjoon has never scurried off that quickly to be in such a lowly position. He kneels in front of the couch, facing his boyfriend. Namjoon eagerly dives in to mouth at his boyfriend’s crotch, but Jimin grips his hair tight.

“If you make me come with just your mouth in the next ten minutes then I won’t punish you,” Jimin declares. “But if not, I’m edging you twice before I even fuck you. Then, you’ll also have to come twice before I finally finish inside of you.”

That’s not fair, Namjoon wanted to whine. Jimin had a stamina and control that’s longer than his huge cock. There was a time that Jimin made him come five times and he still managed to push off his own orgasm. Jimin was that good at controlling himself, especially when he’s determined to punish Namjoon.

But Namjoon is a lot of things, but he’s no quitter. Even when the task was impossible.

“Fine,” He groans defeatedly, knowing that it's a losing game. Besides, it’s not like Namjoon’s passing up on a chance to blow Jimin’s cock anyways. Maybe Minnie will even fuck my face. “But if I make you come, you’re going to come in me twice without teasing. Okay, hyungie?”

Jimin’s lips curve into a snarl as he tugs on Namjoon’s hair again. “Just for being a brat, I’m adding ten spanks to your punishment. You don’t get to make the rules, blossom.”

Namjoon almost convulses at the way Jimin looked at him, like he was nothing but a cheap slut for his hyung. He absolutely loves it. “M’sorry, hyungie.”

Jimin hums, loosening his grip around Namjoon’s hair strands. “Color, baby?”

“Green.”

“Go ahead, then. Put your mouth into good use.”

Without wasting another moment, Namjoon unbuckles Jimin’s belt then unzips his pants. The gang leader is already half hard inside his boxers, and Namjoon starts mouthing over the fabric once Jimin’s trousers are pulled down enough to expose his crotch.

“Ahhh, that’s it…”

Jimin will admit, he has missed this too. Even now that Namjoon is simply mouthing on his still clothed cock, Jimin could feel the months of abstinence catching up on his self-control. The feeling is heavenly; Namjoon’s mouth has always been small and cute. Eager, too.

“Don’t tease me, blossom. Or I might not be too kind to you later.”

Namjoon huffs, but he doesn’t protest as he frees Jimin’s cock from their constraints. Once the tip of his dick springs free, Namjoon immediately wraps his lips around them, sucking on the head like a long-missed treat.

A groan helplessly escapes Jimin’s lips. The two of them have been together for years, but never has Jimin ever gotten tired of having Namjoon’s mouth on him. Especially when the flower shop owner pulled back to lick against his shaft, the tip of his tongue wandering all over his leaking cock, tonguing on the underside of his head. 

Whatever Namjoon is unable to take in his mouth, he wraps his hands around. Long, deft fingers stroking his shaft to hardness as Namjoon sucks his cock as deep as he could and with a fervor that showed Jimin just how much Namjoon missed his dear long friend. As always, Namjoon likes it wet and messy, but Jimin was never one to complain.

“Ahh, baby, fuck… so good for hyungie, so, so pretty…”

As much Jimin enjoyed the blowjob, before he knew it, ten minutes were up, and he couldn’t help that sinister smirk from painting his lips. Namjoon realizes it soon enough, and although Jimin’s cock is now hard and leaking, he huffs indignantly when he realizes that he still failed.

(He was secretly glad though, god does Namjoon want to be edged.)

“I see a little someone’s getting punished today,” Jimin grins, pulling back on Namjoon’s hair again to get him to stop pouting and to finally look up at his boyfriend. “Get naked, blossom, then bend over my desk. Now.”

The gang leader stands from the couch, making his way to his office chair as he waits for Namjoon to adhere to his orders. Ever obedient, Namjoon slowly strips off his clothes—of course, he puts on a show—until he’s standing bare and vulnerable in front of his beloved. He bends down to kiss Jimin for a while, the gang leader unable to deny him of a simple request, before Namjoon turns around and bends over Jimin’s desk.

Presenting his cute, not-so-little ass like a good fuck hole.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Jimin praises, running his thumb across the exposed rim. Namjoon mewls against the table, feeling hot at the raw praise Jimin was giving him. “So, so eager to get fucked. So goddamn gorgeous.”

Jimin reaches down to his bottom drawer without averting his eyes from Namjoon’s ass. He places small pecks against the apples of his asscheeks, as Jimin slowly obtains the lube from where it’s kept. He even pulls the wrong drawer at first, pulling out a rack of guns, but soon enough, the blueberry flavored lube is in Jimin’s hands, ready to be spread.

But first, a taste.

Jimin licks a flat stripe over Namjoon’s rim, and the florist gasps at the wondrous sensation. The gang leader’s tongue is hot and wet, feeling so good as Jimin begins eating Namjoon out without any mercy. He nibbles on his ass, Jimin gets his entrance leaking before he pushes his tongue inside the wet rim. Tongue fucking Namjoon isn’t anything new to him—as a matter of fact, it’s one of Jimin’s favorite things to do. He always loved seeing the way Namjoon squirmed, hearing his little gasps and moans, feeling the way his thighs trembled the more Jimin pushed his tongue deeper inside of him. 

“Hyung, hyung, hyung…” Namjoon gasps, gripping the edges of Jimin’s table as his boyfriend basically devoured his ass. “Oh god, oh p-please…”

Jimin smirks from behind him, his tongue getting more aggressive as it takes what is his. He pulls Namjoon’s asscheeks further apart to expose his slowly loosening hole, spitting on it before using his tongue to push that same spit inside Namjoon’s tight ass. It’s lewd, and wet, and messy, but it’s the hottest thing in the world. Jimin plows in deeper until he’s licking deep inside Namjoon’s walls. The dimpled man could only shudder, his cock that’s trapped between his body and the table is leaking so furiously that he barely had the time to warn his boyfriend.

“Hyungie, I’m gonna, I’m gonna—!”

Immediately understanding what’s gonna happen, Jimin smacks each of Namjoon’s cheeks twice. Hard. Licking one more time from his perineum up to the tip of his crack.

Before pulling back.

“Hyungie!”

Namjoon groans in dissatisfaction, he was so close. The florist was about to lift himself up, to stroke his cock himself, but Jimin pushed him down by his hips firmly. Smirking at the whine Namjoon loudly emitted.

“I told you you were getting punished. Who told you that you had the right to come?”

Annoyed, Namjoon groans again. His whole face is flushed, so, so close to his first orgasm. But of course, he had the most unforgiving boyfriend in the world.

“Jesus, you are so mean!”

Jimin smacks his ass for that. “Don’t be a brat. Or I will edge you five more times before I even think of letting you come.”

Namjoon zips his mouth, mourning his lost climax but simply sighing forlornly as he hears the bottle of lube being uncapped. Jimin spreads the liquid all over Namjoon’s rim, the dimpled man shivering from how cold it was, but the gang leader pays him no mind. Jimin languidly begins fingering Namjoon, almost lazy, just because he knows that Namjoon is eager and frantic, needing to come desperately.

“Hyung, please, come on…” Namjoon shakes his ass to entice Jimin, but he only gets rewarded another smack for that.

“I know I haven’t fucked you in a while, Namjoon-ah, but this attitude of yours is unacceptable,” Jimin pushes two of his fingers in, scissoring his boyfriend open with an amused scowl. “Now, if I remember correctly, I added ten spanks to your punishment, right?”

Namjoon tries his best not to seem too excited. “Yes.”

“Well, then,” Jimin smirks, pulling his fingers out only to push them back in. Namjoon sighs at the feeling. “What’s your color, blossom?”

“Green.”

“Good. Count for me now.”

Jimin doesn’t give him another warning before his other hand lands a smack to his asscheek. Namjoon moans softly at the feeling. It might hurt, but being a pain slut is ingrained in his DNA. Add that with Jimin still not ceasing on fingering him, and Namjoon might just come like this. “O-One.”

Another smack, this time to his other cheek.

“Two, hyungie.”

Third time came in harder.

“Fuck, nggh, t-three.”

Jimin continues spanking him until they’ve reached the tenth mark. By then, Namjoon’s asscheeks are a cherry red—looking absolutely sumptuous. Jimin has four fingers deep inside Namjoon’s walls, his hole now more than ready to be fucked, but all Namjoon wants is to just find his first release.

Which is just two more thrusts of Jimin’s fingers and a spank away. “Hyung, p-please, m’so close… please…”

Jimin takes that as his cue to pull his fingers back, smirking at the long drawn out groan Namjoon emits once again. The flower shop owner looks over his shoulder, glaring at his boyfriend who looked far too happy seeing him being driven so close to insanity, only to be pulled right back just when he was about to jump off.

“Why are you so—come on, Jiminie, please, I w-want to come!”

The whining is cute. On another day, Jimin might have that punished, but perhaps he also remembers that Namjoon ought to forgive him too. He can be a little kinder. So for now, Jimin simply stands up, pushing his pants down until his hard cock is exposed. Jimin lubes up his own shaft before lining it against Namjoon’s entrance.

“You so badly wanted to come then I’ll make you come, blossom,” Jimin grins manically. “I’ll make you come twice before I do. And I plan on coming twice today, baby.”

Namjoon shudders, half in fear, and wholly in anticipation. “Please, hyungie.”

“Color, gorgeous?”

“Green. So fucking green.”

“Excellent,” Jimin teases, sliding the tip of his cock against Namjoon’s rim but without pushing it in. “Beg for it then. Show me how much you want hyung’s cock.”

“Hyungie, please,” Namjoon groans, shaking his ass to provoke Jimin to finally fuck him before he joins his boyfriend in the psych ward. “Please, fuck me, hyung. Jimin, please, please...”

Namjoon kept on pleading with him, and it would be a lie if Jimin said that the begging didn’t go straight to his ego. It would have been nice to draw this out if only Jimin himself wasn’t so strung out. Now has the distance truly started to take a toll on him, Jimin feels equally as eager.

So he doesn’t prolong Namjoon’s misery anymore. He slips his cock inside Namjoon’s rim with barely any resistance. It might have been a while since Jimin fucked him, but he made sure that Namjoon was thoroughly stretched, never wanting to hurt Namjoon lest it was a pleasurable kind of pain. Once, Jimin had to pull back and add more lube to his cock, but breaching into Namjoon’s hole always felt like coming home, so warm, so natural. So— “Fuck, blossom, you feel so fucking good.”

Namjoon is half thankful that he currently has his face buried against the hardwood desk. In this case, Jimin didn’t have to see the face he made when the gang leader bottoms out inside of him. “Hyung, oh god, f-fuck. Missed this, missed y-you. Shit!”

Jimin falls against his back, caging Namjoon’s shoulders to leave kisses against his nape. Once Jimin is buried to the hilt, he gives them both the time to adjust. Namjoon is so tight around him, it’s driving him absolutely crazy how good he feels.

“Move, hyung, please. Come on…”

Once more, Jimin lands a spank against his ass for being so impatient. But just as desperate, Jimin violently pulls back and slams deep inside Namjoon again in one swift stroke.

“Aaahhhh, Jimin—”

“Isn’t this what you want?” Jimin grunts out, starting slow but deep. Making sure that his curved cock hits Namjoon’s ass in all the right places. “You asked for this, blossom.”

Oh Namjoon knows. But it’s been a while and he has almost forgotten how good this feels, and he’s easily getting overwhelmed the more Jimin grinded against his ass. Soon enough, Namjoon is screaming against his arm as Jimin’s pace quickens. His hips slam against Namjoon’s ass brashly, the sound of his cock slapping against the flesh of Namjoon’s asscheeks sounding absolutely lewd. But so incredibly hot.

“Right there, Jimin, p-please, oh god, please, please…”

Kept away from having an orgasm twice now, Namjoon knows it won’t take long until he comes. Thankfully, Jimin doesn’t stop fucking his rim. Hard and fast, and so fucking good. The friction the table is giving him is enough to have his cock coming undone without further prodding, and right when Namjoon’s spine gives out a mean shiver before his eyes fall shut and jaw slackens to a silent scream, Namjoon tightens around Jimin’s cock, and comes.

“Ahh hyungie, hyung, hyung, fuck…” 

This time, instead of stopping, Jimin only thrusts harder inside of his boyfriend, stroking the back of Namjoon’s neck encouragingly.

“That’s it, Joonie, so, so pretty, come for hyung, beautiful. You’re doing so good.”

Jimin allows Namjoon to have a moment to reach his climax, never stopping to fuck him through it. He kept on whispering praises and reassurances as Namjoon reached his first orgasm. When Namjoon finishes, he can't help but sigh contentedly. This is exactly what he missed—what he’s been yearning for. Alas, Jimin was feeling merciful. 

“Now, where was I?”

Or so he thought.

“W-Wait, ah, ah, ahhh, hyung—”

Namjoon squeals as Jimin resumes his earlier pace. Showing no mercy to Namjoon’s still sensitive hole. He fucks in and out of it as if Namjoon just hadn’t gone through his first good orgasm in ages. The flower shop owner could only moan helplessly as his whole body twitches in oversensitivity. God does it hurt, but Jesus Christ, Namjoon would never exchange this feeling for the world.

“On your back, blossom, come here.”

Jimin pulls out his cock for a moment to put Namjoon on his back. The gang leader is then rewarded by the sight of his baby in complete ruins. There are tears leaking down Namjoon’s face, his blossom’s cheeks are flushed red. Fuck, he looks beautiful.

“Baby,” Jimin bends down to kiss Namjoon lovingly, overwhelmed with so much love for this man. They say a man like Jimin didn’t have a heart, but here was Namjoon, Jimin’s one and only lifesource. “You’re so beautiful, I love you.”

“L-Love you, too.” Namjoon shudders, still overwhelmed. “Love you so much, Minnie.”

Jimin pulls back from his lips, only to lower his lips down to Namjoon’s nipples, sucking on those buds that made Namjoon squirm.

“Color, baby?”

“Green. M’green.”

“Can I proceed?” Jimin grins, taking Namjoon’s other nipple inside his mouth, twisting the still wet one with his fingers.

“Yes, please. Go on.”

Knowing that Namjoon is still achingly sensitive, but is still desperate to get fucked, Jimin feels a renewed force in his thrusts. The moment he slips his cock back inside Namjoon’s hole, it’s like a new fire has overtaken him. He wants Namjoon to feel so good, to make up for what he’s lacked for.

Jimin needs to deliver.

“My. Gorgeous. Blossom.” Jimin punctuates each word with a deep thrust that hits at just the right angle. The gang leader swung Namjoon’s large thighs over his shoulder. And it should be heavy, but Jimin is lithe and packed with muscle. He barely breaks a sweat with the extra weight. “Fucking beautiful. Doing so well for hyung. Fuck.”

Namjoon whines loudly, preening, his thighs twitching at the new angle that basically allowed Jimin’s cock to brush against his prostate. He’s seeing stars. No. He must be seeing heaven, because Jimin’s surely his angel.

(A fallen one, but his angel nonetheless.)

“Fuck me, h-hyungie. Want you to come inside me, please...”

Jimin grins, before his thrusts begin to quicken again. “That’s the plan, baby.” He growls. “But not until you’ve come again.”

With that, the gang leader slams into Namjoon’s rim over and over again. Namjoon’s spine arches in pleasure, moaning loudly that he’s sure the guards outside Jimin’s office know exactly what’s happening. But he doesn’t care, not when Jimin is plowing his ass like there’s no tomorrow. He fucks Namjoon like the last time they fucked was lifetimes ago.

Which, in Namjoon’s books, is fair because it has indeed been ages since Jimin ruined him like this.

Namjoon could only squeal in delight when Jimin’s cock made a loud squelching sound inside of his ass, indicating that not only was Jimin fucking him hard and fast, but the man was also leaking gloriously inside the florist’s puffy hole. 

Soon enough, Namjoon’s cock is painfully hard again. He could feel himself edging towards another orgasm just in time for Jimin’s harsh groans to bounce loudly off the wall.

“Hyung, yes, yes, yes, aahhh I’m g-gonna, fuuuuck...” Namjoon exclaims, crying both tears of pain and pleasure. “Hyung, please—gggh—I’m coming!”

Without slowing his pace, Jimin wraps a hand around Namjoon’s cock, stroking it as fast as he was fucking his baby. He could also feel his own orgasm right around the corner. “Go ahead. Come for me, blossom. Go on, fuck, come around h-hyung’s cock.”

Namjoon didn’t need to be told twice.

All Jimin gets is one last loud scream of his name, before Namjoon tightens around his cock and comes with a mean shudder. Jimin, overwhelmed with how Namjoon clenched around his red and leaking shaft, came right after him. Painting Namjoon’s walls a pearly white exactly like how Namjoon liked it.

This must be heaven.

Jimin slumps against Namjoon’s chest when he finally finishes his orgasm. Namjoon is panting beneath him, worn out from coming twice in such a short span. The gang leader peppers kisses at the long juncture of Namjoon’s neck, lovingly tracing his lips against his glistening skin.

“Blossom, hey baby, how do you feel?”

Namjoon babbles an incoherent sound, then, “Like I’m never gonna walk again.”

Jimin snorts a laugh, pecking Namjoon’s lips. “But wait, I told you I wanted to come twice.”

“Look,” Namjoon says seriously. “I know I asked for this, but give me like two seconds. And a bed. Let’s do the next round on our bed, I want to cuddle after having my ass obliterated for another hour.”

Jimin erupts in giggles again. “I told you to be careful with what you wish for.”

“But hey, I’m not complaining, Jimin-ah,” Namjoon grins, sweet and pleased. A much better look than that frustrated gleam he had in his eyes for the past few weeks. “I missed you. I missed this. Thank you for listening to me, baby, I love you.”

Touched, Jimin reaches up to place a long and loving kiss on Namjoon’s lips. His slowly softening cock is still inside his boyfriend, but that could wait. “I love you too, baby. Do you forgive me now?”

“I was never mad at you in the first place.” Namjoon admits. Frustrated? He was. But not angry. Not when he understood where Jimin was coming from. “I’m just glad to have you back.”

“I’m glad to have you back too, blossom,” Jimin says. And having Namjoon back isn’t just him being here in Jimin’s arms, but it’s Namjoon being perfectly healthy and safe right at this very moment. Just like how it has always been pre-kidnapping. “Love you so much, I’m sorry for distancing myself like that.”

“It’s fine. Like what I said, I understand.” Namjoon places a peck on his forehead. “But can I please be allowed to go back to my shop now? I really do miss Blossom Blooms.” 

For a moment, Namjoon sees a flash of apprehension in Jimin’s eyes. But the gang leader silently shakes his head, willing himself to no longer be that overbearing asshole.

“Of course, Joonie. But will it be okay if I had more guards stationed around your shop?” Jimin asks. “For my peace of mind, please.”

Namjoon supposes that’s a good compromise. Besides, it’s not like he isn’t scared himself. The trauma is still there, and Namjoon appreciates the extra protection.

“Okay, baby. That’s fine. As long as I'm finally allowed to go back home.”

At the back of Namjoon’s mind, he knows it won’t be easy to go back to normal. It’s a slow process, but the first step is allowing Jimin to know how he feels about being caged inside the mansion.

(It almost feels like Namjoon was once again back at that dirty cell, and that’s the last place he wishes to return to. Not when he’s supposed to be safe. )

But he always knew that deep inside, Jimin has always been kind and understanding. At least to him. Namjoon was his only exception. The devil might be crazy, but even Hades had a Persephone.

Jimin had his own queen, too.

Later that day, Jimin lives up to his promise of fucking Namjoon right in his own bed. They go for two more rounds and Namjoon wasn’t kidding when he said that he won’t be able to walk for the next fourteen banking days.

But, thankfully, at the start of the next week, Namjoon was finally allowed to return to his shop. The girls welcomed their boss with a tight hug, missing the man terribly during his months of absence. Oh how Namjoon had missed his flowers. Work was piling when he returned, but Namjoon happily and naturally went back to arranging flowers like he was barely gone for a day.

While he could definitely see the extra guards stationed around his shop both blatantly and in disguise, Namjoon barely gave them much thought. Except for when Jungkook came in to bother him, that was hard to ignore. Especially when the brat reminded Namjoon of his favor to make him a bouquet that’s as pretty as his brother.

It was nice being allowed to have his sense of freedom returned.

But just before Namjoon’s first day ended, he decided to make a very special bouquet for someone very special. He arranges an all-red ensemble wrapped in black paper tied with an equally blood red ribbon.

That night, before Jimin finished his work day, Jungkook personally delivered a bouquet to his boss. Surprised but touched, Jimin reaches out with a pleased smile on his face as he eagerly reads the card attached to the flowers.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

To my little devil who’ll gladly chop off dicks, fingers, and arms to keep me safe,

Know that I’m very much in love with you.

P.S.: I’m waiting for you in my bed <3

Jimin all but dashes out the door.

FIN.