✭ 6 ✭
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
(whenever the Black Swans are talking to each other pretend it's in Korean for some ✨spice✨)
The sound of dragging feet and yawns ring through the hallway as the Black Swans trudge back toward their designated hotel rooms for the night. Coach Jihun leads the pack, not a hint of exhaustion evident on his features as he marches down to the last room at the end of the hall.
He turns to meet the sagging bodies of his team with a wave. "Sleep well, boys. Remember, tomorrow's cardio day. Be up and ready by 7am for the track."
Everyone groans, slogging into their rooms.
"What's taking you so long," Taehyung whines, slumped on the wall beside the door.
"I'm looking," Jimin huffs, digging through his gym bag for their shared room key.
"Taehyung-ah," Jaein pokes his head out from his room across from theirs, "have you...have you checked your phone?" At the sound of the slight strain in his voice, Taehyung whips his head up to meet the pained expression of his friend.
He shakes his head. "It's dead, why?"
"You oaf!" Seungri clicks his tongue in annoyance from behind him as he jogs into view. "You weren't supposed to mention it to him," he scolds before turning to Taehyung with a forced smile, "it's nothing Taehyung-ah, just get some rest. Good night!" Seungri yanks Jaein inside by his sleeve and spares the two curious men a departing wave before slamming the door shut.
At the sound of a click, Jimin grins in satisfaction. "Finally!"
The door cracks open, revealing two neat queen-sized beds separated by nightstands on both sides. Jimin wastes no time in completely destroying said neatness, when he jumps onto his. He sprawls himself out, allowing the moans of relief to leave his lips as he stretches his aching muscles.
Besides practice, being in a foreign country is exhausting for Jimin who has never been outside of Korea. He was terribly homesick. He missed his parents and the people. But most of all, Jimin missed the food. The nearest Korean restaurant was 15 miles away from their secluded hotel and Coach Jihun had a strict curfew set in place to restrain the team from leaving after 10 p.m. Jimin glances at the digital clock on one of the nightstands and winces when it reads 9:58.
"Taehyung-ah," he pouts, staring at the ivory ceiling as his tummy rumbles. "Let's sneak out again. Like we did last time for the diner."
When he hears no response, he rolls over, propping his head up with his elbow to face Taehyung. "Come on, you know you want to. If we leave after midnight again we should be fine right? I'll pull up the directions for the next restaurant right now," he draws out his phone from underneath him, "I can't wait to have-"
Jimin stares at the notifications on his screen, his mouth going dry at the bolded headline of the news article.
Is Black Swans' Star Player, Kim Taehyung, a Sadist?
It's then that Jimin finally looks over and takes into account his friend's stance. Taehyung sits on the edge of his bed, staring out the grand window in their room showcasing the cityscape adorned in the black blanket of the night. His phone sits beside him, now plugged into his charger, and Jimin's eyes soften when he drops his head.
"Tae," Jimin shifts, "it's stupid-"
Taehyung groans, collapsing onto the bed, mirroring Jimin's position. "I didn't know. I didn't know who she was."
Jimin sighs, scrolling through the article for any new false information that might have been fed to the press. "At least she's sticking to her story."
He shakes his head, massaging his temples with his fingers. "She's making money off of lies about me. About us! I'd never noticed her before that night. Those screenshots of our texts are fake. Everything she's saying about me is fake." He says the last word like a breath.
Jimin nods sympathetically, turning off his phone and tossing it to the side. The blonde can't help but feel partially responsible for his best friend's predicament, only being able to offer him a sincere pat on the back in the moment. He is the reason Taehyung even went out that night, dragging his sore body from the comfort of their shared apartment to accompany him on a trivial date in a bar in Itaewon. As the Black Swans' fan base began to expand, so did their attraction and Jimin loved the way girls threw themselves at the boys, showering them with gifts, love, and attention. Taehyung, already having experienced that enough with his last club, always warned his friend of such behavior and to refrain from entertaining their fans so much.
But, it's no surprise that he eventually caved into going with the blonde because let's face it, who could resist Park Jimin?
Ecstatic to have a chance at breaking down the walls of Kim Taehyung, Jimin encouraged him to venture out during the night. And that is how Taehyung met Nari. She was hard to miss, dressed in a slinky red mini dress and silver stilettos, swaying her hips to the beat in the middle of the dance floor. When a drunk Taehyung approached her, there was a glint of madness in her eyes that looking back should have concerned him. But he pushed it to the back of his head when her lips connected with his.
It was not long before the two ended up at her hotel room, tongues intertwined, pulling off each other's clothes. Taehyung almost forgot to roll on a condom in the midst of his intoxication and Nari-induced trance. Just as eager as he was, she begged him to fill her up to which he immediately did, slamming into her hips at record speed. If he didn't bury his face into the crook of his neck, maybe he would have seen her eyes constantly flicker to the ceiling at the blinking red dot.
"Choke me, Taehyung," she moaned. Loud. As if she wanted someone to hear.
That should have been strike one. He never told her his name. But too consumed with pleasure and alcohol, he instantly obliged, wrapping his fingers around her small neck and giving it a light squeeze.
"Harder, don't stop!"
That should have been strike two. But again, he tightened his grasp, hesitant at first but soon settling into it as she continued to mewl his name.
"Harder," she choked out, a hint of anger in her tone and Taehyung narrowed his eyes. His thrusts began to slow down as her face turned blue. Each time he'd try to pull away his hand she'd kiss her teeth and position it in the same place she wanted, squeezing roughly for him to mimic.
"Are you sure?" He whispered, blurry visioned.
She caressed his face, the same deranged look in her eyes now creating a pit in his stomach. "Just a little more."
He wrapped his fingers around her neck once more, her palm now on top of his to ensure he wouldn't escape. Taehyung had barely even applied pressure before she began her booming moans that were now making him cringe.
And then she screamed.
A blood-curdling scream that would have made him jump right out of her bed had it not been for her clutch on his arm. "What are you doing?" He hissed, trying to yank back his hand.
Her arm flailed at her side, while the one on his hand wriggled around as if she was trying to unhook his fingers but she'd push his palm even deeper. Her screams pierced his ear drums, the sheer volume comparable to that of a cheesy horror movie in which the big busted female character gets murdered.
"Stop," she begged, "I can't breathe, you're killing me!"
"I-I can't," he exasperated, panting from the fear and adrenaline pumping through his veins. "Just let go, please!"
Concerned murmurs could be heard from other guests who had now gathered around the door out of curiosity of the ruckus.
"Help! He's killing me!" She shrieked, further panicking Taehyung. Mustering as much power as he could from his weak limbs that seemed to be completely out of touch from his mind's commands to move, he freed himself from her surprisingly strong grasp. He fumbled off the mattress, sparing her an incredulous look as he tugged on his jeans.
"Why? Why would you do-" He stopped himself when he noticed the reflection of red light in her eyes as she rubbed at her burning neck. Looking up, his blood boiled at the sight of the small video camera hidden in the ceiling fan blinking back at him.
Nari lifted herself off, draping her white bathrobe over her naked body. She strode over to his shocked form and gave him a condescending pat on his chest. "I'd cut you a piece but I don't think it'd make you feel better."
With glossy eyes, he gave her a pleading look. "Please don't sell it. This is the only club that would sign me," he dropped to his knees, bunching her robe in his hands, "this will ruin them, you can't-"
"Camera's still rolling, Taehyung," she sang, glancing upwards before schooling her features and taking a deep breath. "Please, leave me alone!"
Now there were knocks at the door, the lock clicking open along with a jangle of keys. Taehyung could barely register her mouth the word run before grabbing his shirt and dashing off. Too fast for any of the guests and security guards, he sprinted out of the hotel and onto the street. He didn't stop, allowing the tears to escape his eyes as he rushed all the way to his apartment. Taehyung sobbed when he reached his home, because in a few short hours, minutes, seconds even the entire country would see a video of him strangling a woman.
The profit Nari would make on his downfall would be enormous. Exposing the hot, young, up and coming basketball player in Seoul as a attempted murderer who gets off on trying to kill women would be the top story in the entire country.
And if it weren't for Club 7, it would have.
At the sound of Taehyung's recollection of the night, Jimin called Coach Jihun and Mina who, after a quick assessment of his demeanor, could tell he was not just drunk. A drug test revealed Taehyung's drink had been spiked, explaining the lack of mobilization in his limbs. At Jihun's request, the club owners' media team found Nari, and scurried to remove the video from anywhere she sold it to.
But it wasn't enough. Club 7 released a statement to the public describing Nari's assault and attempt at defamation, to which Taehyung idly stood by the entire time. It was difficult to combat against the tainted video evidence that Nari edited to make look like Taehyung was purposefully trying to strangle her. The public didn't buy his story either, believing that the strong athlete could not have possibly been coerced into doing the act. Some even demanded jail time, to which Nari completely supported. She made television appearances with a fully rehearsed survivor story, twisting the details to frame Taehyung as a restless stalker and dragging his name through the mud.
It wasn't until Club 7 found the original footage that Taehyung began to gain support. People noticed the hesitance in his movements, his dizzy gestures, and the way Nari would snap at him. What got most people was his heart-wrenching gaze when he looked directly at the camera, the way his career flashed before his eyes. Some guests from the hotel even vouched for him, calling her moans "too theatrical for pleasure" and people finally began to question why there even was a camera in the first place.
But by then, Nari had fled.
The story had passed, Club 7 doing a great job at taking down articles involving the video as soon as they popped up and eventually it slowed down. Taehyung had been invited to speak out about the experience but he'd always declined, slightly disturbed about being seen as a victim. If anything, he hated the fact that he ever let his guard down. Which is why whenever an article mentioning it popped up, an effect of Nari reselling the story for a quick buck to a smaller media outlet, Taehyung could not help but feel small. Small as an athlete, as a teammate, and a man.
"Jimin," he licks his lips, eyes still fixed on the ceiling, "you believe me, right?"
At that Jimin snorts, completely changing Taehyung's sulking mood. When he glares at the blonde, Jimin waves his hands. "I'm sorry, it's just I knew you were gonna ask me that. I believe you, Tae. We all believe you. You're the biggest softie I know."
Taehyung sits up, resting his back against the headboard while trying not to glare at his phone screen. He knows Club 7 will take the story down in no time but the knowledge that it is still out in the world leaves him uneasy. "Not a softie."
Jimin sighs, grabbing his phone and flipping it screen side down. "I know it's annoying, especially after 2 years. You don't have to try to make excuses for yourself, we all know you didn't know what was going on."
Taehyung nods silently. A knock is heard at the door and Jimin skips over, hopeful for someone else to help him calm Taehyung down. He looks through the peephole and lets out a yelp at the sight.
"What's wrong?" Taehyung asks.
Jimin opens the door to reveal a smiling Hoseok in a sheer mask that clings to his face like a second skin and a red, silk pajama set.
"Hello," he cheers, showcasing his heart shaped smile. "How are we doing?"
Jimin glances at Taehyung who has gone back to staring at his phone. "We're...alive?"
"Excellent!" Hoseok snakes around Jimin before flopping himself down next to Taehyung and swatting away the phone. "You know what I like to do when my crazy one night stand sells a video of us fucking while trying to frame me for attempted murder?"
Taehyung rolls his eyes, "what?"
"Sheet masks!" He draws out two packets from behind his back and waves them around.
Jimin groans, slamming the door before leaning on the wall. "What the hell are face masks gonna do? I thought you were gonna sneak us out to go to a club, or a bar, Captain," he peers out the window, "I think we passed a dispensary down the street, it wouldn't take long to get some-"
Hoseok tuts, "you think what your teammate needs right now is to throw drinks and drugs and women at his problems that stemmed from drinks and drugs and women," he turns to Taehyung, "no offense."
Taehyung cuts to Jimin's repulsed face to Hoseok's eager, bouncing one and shrugs.
"You're gonna let him put that on your face?" Jimin gasps, horrified.
"Relax," Hoseok chuckles as he rips open the packets, "it's just aloe and...ooo lavender!"
"I'm out," Jimin puts up his hands in surrender, "this looks gross. Why's it so slimy?" He pretends to retch and Hoseok's smile drops.
"Re-fucking-lax! Don't you ever wash your face," he huffs in annoyance.
Taehyung and Jimin exchange a confused look. "Like, on purpose?"
"No, accidentally. Yes, on purpose. With a face wash, or a face scrub, or maybe you guys use a...serum?" Hoseok notices their blank stares and bites back a smile. "You guys have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"
The simultaneously shake their heads and Hoseok laughs. "You definitely need this now."
After placing the sheet masks on, and a few scolds from Hoseok towards Jimin to stop touching his face, the three laid on Taehyung's bed. Hoseok on the left, humming mindlessly, occasionally slapping Taehyung's hand to prevent him from reaching for his phone, while Jimin laid on the right, hands firmly placed underneath him as he tries to think of anything other than the wet paper on his face.
Taehyung does not know what he necessarily expected from Hoseok's magical masks as he drums his fingers. Maybe he hoped they'd distract him enough from his own thoughts, but now they seem to intensify as the lavender scent fills his nose. "Hobi?"
Hoseok hums in response, eyes fluttering shut. "Do you think the story will get out here?"
"Nah," Jimin chirps, "the article is probably gone by now, honestly."
"But she probably knows we're here, what if people see?" Taehyung continues.
"Who are you worried about seeing it?" Hoseok opens one eye, allowing it to survey Taehyung's stiff body.
"You know," he mumbles, eyes locking on his bare feet, "the sponsors and donors and stuff."
"Mmm, is that all?" Hoseok meets Jimin's gaze, motioning toward a dazed Taehyung and the blonde's mouth forms an O in understanding.
"Y-Yeah, like maybe you don't want a girl to see?" Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut in frustration at Jimin's attempt to be discreet.
"A girl?"
"Yes, no one specifically really," Hoseok attempts to save, "maybe one you met recently. An American?"
"American," he mutters, his eyebrows raising in realization, "you mean Laila?"
Jimin and Hoseok begin shaking their heads, taking on an offensive tone. "No, what?" "Who even mentioned her?"
"Frankly, I'd be embarrassed if anyone saw it," Taehyung sighs. "But if that club saw it..." He trails off, pursing his lips in dismay at the thought.
"You seem to take an interest in her though," Jimin side-eyes his stoic face, surprised when Taehyung's features soften at the mention.
He smirks, "I like messing with her. It's cute how she reacts." Noticing the subtle looks of the men on either side of him, he clears his throat, "but I'm not interested."
"It was very uninteresting running into their team the other night, don't you think?" Hoseok inquires.
He clicks his tongue, "I can see the place from my window. I saw an opportunity and I took it, and now we have a gym. You can send your fruit baskets of gratitude to room 417, I'll gladly accept them."
"Yeah," Jimin chuckles, "a gym with a conveniently hot manager that you get to check out every practice."
"Admit it, Taeeeee," Hoseok sings.
Taehyung rakes a hand through his hair, "She's not unpleasant to look at."
"Good enough," Jimin shrugs, "I like her ass. It's an athlete's ass, she's probably played before."
"You got all that from looking at her ass?" Hoseok asks, making Taehyung laugh at the fake astonishment in his tone but when he turns to look at him, he laughs even harder at his serious face. "But watch yourself, Jimin, we don't objectify women," he scolds.
"Is complimenting objectifying?" Jimin challenges, "I'm simply telling you what I admire in Laila. Can't believe none of those guys have hit it." He elbows Taehyung, "maybe you'll be the lucky son of a bitch who does."
"I, personally, think she's very professional for keeping her relations with that team purely friendly," Hoseok counters, "they seem pretty close and kudos to her for not jeopardizing it."
Jimin lets out a breathy chuckle. "Gee Captain, keep thinking like that and you'll be drowning in pussy in no time."
Before Hoseok can refute, Taehyung cuts in, "no one's getting any pussy, at least from anyone in that club. I owe Club 7 my career and if they want us to win this tournament, that's what we're going to do. No distractions." A hush falls over the room, the distant buzz of traffic the only sound that could be heard. Taehyung's stern voice rendered both men speechless.
"You're too competitive for your own good," Hoseok sighs, peeling off the mask and chucking it into the nearest bin, "how far will you really go win?"
"As far as I have to," he peels off his own mask, grimacing at the feeling of the slimy residue on his face, "Club 7 deserves this expansion and I'll do everything in my power to make sure they win. With or without your support."
Jimin frowns. "What if it's between us and the Stallions for the finals, I think they deserve it more if-"
"Are you a Stallion," Taehyung narrows his eyes, his tone accusatory as he scrutinizes Jimin, "or are you a Black Swan?"
Jimin nibbles the inside of his bottom lip before mumbling, "Black Swan."
The panicked man with fear swimming in his eyes was now gone, replaced with the power hungry Taehyung that the boys loathed.
Hoseok walks over to their bathroom before gently saying, "There are things more important than basketball, Taehyung-"
But Taehyung is quick to cut him off with a bitter chuckle, "really? Like what?"
"Your honor, a moral compass. You said it yourself, stealing a California team's win is wrong-"
"I said that for the gym, Captain. As soon as that tournament starts in six weeks, they are our enemies. We can pretend to be buddy buddy with them but we should never forget who the real winners are." Taehyung's words are sharp, dripping with vengeance and enough to make Jimin wince. "You will only gain honor if you are the best, and morals aren't important as long as you win."
Jimin scoffs before smothering the redhead with a pillow. "You really don't care about anything but a stupid fucking trophy, do you? That'll make you feel better, really?"
Taehyung gasps for air when he loosens his grip on the pillow, blowing the red fringe away from his forehead. He parts his lips to answer but stops when he catches Jimin gathering his toothbrush and pajamas and starting for the door. "I'm sleeping with Hoseok, I can't stay in the same room as you when you're on asshole mode."
Taehyung's eyes soften as he scrambles to his feet, "Jimin, wait-"
"You don't owe Club 7 shit, and they've told you that they'd do the same for any of their players if it were the same situation. Just admit you're doing this for yourself, that there's some empty little hole in your heart that you think you can fill with winning." Jimin grips the door knob and swings it open, prompting Hoseok to jog up to the entrance with water droplets still on his face.
Taehyung frowns, the sight of his best friend's departure too familiar for comfort.
"I-I know it's not everything..."
Jimin shakes his head, "I'm gonna go, Tae. I'll see you in the morning." He slithers out the door, Hoseok turning and offering him a sad wave before shutting it. For a long second Taehyung stands there, stunned, his thoughts beginning to pool back in his head.
He blinks at the door, imagining Jimin and Hoseok coming back and allowing him the opportunity to apologize. But his heart sinks. Because Taehyung knows all to well that when people leave, they never come back.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
hi i know this isn't accurate bc our boys have flawless skin OF COURSE THEY KNOW WHAT FACE MASKS ARE
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