whewwww, i'm done!!

and koo looks so pretty ^^

✽ ✽ ✽

"Master Park will be with you in a few moments." Leonardo said, his torso drooping into a deep curtsy.

Jimin was to divulge something exceedingly scandalous, and had therefore asked Jeongguk, his most intimate friend, to be summoned - a 'something', that pertained to his love-life, which had been, Jeongguk liked to think, non-existent until then; or maybe, he just didn't want to embrace the probability of Jimin keeping things from him.

The parlor at Jimin's, was nothing, if not a mere indication, that the higher one rises, the harder he falls.

The room was expansive, but relatively less furnished - with the plasters on the cracked at some points, and falling off, at some - and Jeongguk happened to one of those few who could actually relate as to why an aristocratic family had an abode so humbly embellished, probably due to close association with the Parks, for ages, and also for being one of those kinsmen who bothered to associate with them, following their imprisonment by poverty.

Jimin was no less than a pauper, wouldn't even have had that status to uphold, if not for Jeongguk's frequent monetary aids.

The leather-covered cushion of the settee was crusty and torn, poking Jeongguk's ass, that caused him to shift restlessly, in hopes of finding a perfect stance.

As much as he'd like to stand, waiting for his arrival, it would be impossible at his present situation, since Jimin's butler, Leonardo, who kept Jeongguk company, could take it to heart; and Jimin's entrance at that exact moment, almost evoked a sigh of relief from the former, who was well acquainted with the fact that there was no way Jimin would converse with him under the prying ears of those who were eager to dig out hearsay - an excuse to not sit on the settee.

"You are well met, Signor Jeon!" Jimin exclaimed, with faux dynamism - taking note of Leonardo silently slipping away, leaving them alone - both hands pressing over his mouth to stifle a giggle, that was, well, a hoax too. He walked, swaying his hips, towards Jeongguk, who was on his feet, playing along.

"Oh, you flatter me!" He winked, placing his palm on Jimin's sternum, leaned in, and said, biting his lips, "Looking not very shabby yourself either, Signor Park."

Jimin scrunched his face at the very lame attempt at a comeback, his face contorting into something akin to the expression of a very constipated reptile, which triggered a burst of laughter in Jeongguk, and the former followed suit, well, since the younger's mirth was extremely contagious.

Jimin's legs almost gave out, as he clutched his stomach, which had started to ache due to the extensive amount of pressure it had to endure, mirth striking their sentiments like a tide - their actions held liable for everything.

Jeongguk on the other hand, was in a worse condition; his expression of humour was inaudible, and consequently, his state was harsh - drool cascading down his neck, and dampening his clothes, face flushed red due to the lack of intake of air, and most importantly, the display of his whole set of teeth, and his central incisors standing out, since they were slightly longer than the lateral ones, giving him, at least according to Jin, the appearance of a bunny - but he hated being called one; makes him feel less like a man, he says.

"Oh Christ! Now that was epic," Jimin said, trying to leash himself into decency, and wiped a lone tear that had escaped from his scrunched eyes, "though, you were really cringey. Like, who the hell does that?!" This commenced another round of titters, albeit, much shorter in duration.

It was an inside joke, their motive being, to parody the woman, whom Taehyung had been told to court to a week, as the penalty for losing a bet. This happened to be how they traditionally greeted each other - fun, if one was to exclude Jimin's aching belly, and Jeongguk falling back on his machismo, and blithe.

Jimin sprawled a friendly arm over Jeongguk's shoulders, once his mind became capable enough to dominate his actions, only to get it immediately deflected off, by the latter, who pursed his lips, making it apparent, that he was not happy, due to whatever reason.

"You know, I still haven't forgiven you for spilling out all my secrets." Jeongguk said, folding his arms against his chest, glaring at Jimin, who gave him a sheepish smile.

"C'mon, Ggoo! It not like they made fun of you like I did-"

Jeongguk smacked him on the head, glare not faltering. "I dare you to complete that statement, Chim."

Jimin pouted, a palm resting on the back of his head, rubbing the sore spot, mildly offended. "It almost feels like I'm the younger one."

"Not my fault that you're so short. Serves you right for being a spiller." Jeongguk turned on his heels, and motioned Jimin to follow, as he walked out of the parlor, acquainted with the other's house, like the back of his hand. "Anyway, what was it, that you wanted to tell me?"

Jimin nodded, trailing behind, feeling the anxiety slowly kick in.

The balcony was adjoined with the parlor, and had French double doors, which dated back to the times of Jimin's grandfather, since closely following his father's inheritance of their family business, they went bankrupt - not exactly the best time to furnish their house; all their ships got lost overseas, or looted, until there were none left, which led to Jimin feeding on Jeongguk's profits in business, at present, having no source of income.

The veranda, which was in the second storey, had been set up with a teapoy, and a sgabello on either side; all of which were directly under the pergola shade, for, the mid-day sun in Venice, was always too bright to be withstood. It overlooked the piazza of the Rialto market, and the flamboyant heads of the gondolas on the Grand Canal - the prime location for building a house.

Jimin often jested that buying this land got him neck-deep in debt, since it once belonged to the then Duke of Venice.

Jimin sunk down into the sgabello unceremoniously, offending Jeongguk who mumbled, grumbling, about something regarding the etiquette of offering a seat to the guest first, to which the former explicated that Jeongguk was not a guest, but family, and Jimin wouldn't dare to demote him into a position less than that of a brother. Needless to say, Jeongguk melted like butter, pleased.

Jimin cleared his throat, successfully attracting the other's attention, and took a deep breath. "I-I think I'm in love, Gguk." He leaned forward, elbows resting on the teapoy, and gaze lowered, not finding the courage to look into Jeongguk's eyes. "And to court her, I need money. Just this o-once, please help me with money. My heart says that it'll be worth it." Jimin pleaded, appearing unsure.

Whilst they fooled around, it didn't strike Jimin once, how difficult it actually was, to confide that he was in love. It was not just a simple statement, but a form of baring his heart to the other; albeit it was not Jeongguk, he was in love with. He had enacted the somewhat preview of his short speech, in his mind, believing that it would be all rainbows and flowers, no stutters either.

But, the second prior to confronting Jeongguk, he felt the negative possibilities line up - what if Jeongguk refused, saying that he was not Jimin's very personal wish-granting tooth fairy - that was programmed in such a way, that it did not take a tooth, but gave the present anyway - or, worse, Jeongguk saw straight through his lie, which would not be a huge surprise considering - first, Jimin was not a competent liar, and second, Jeongguk knew his tricks way too well, since they had been practically joined at the hip from boyhood.

Despite being aware of the fact that Jeongguk wouldn't oppose to his choice of a spouse, there was still, this lingering feeling of doubt - which asked him if the marriage in question, was truly his will, or just a reflection of what the society would want him to.

Perplexed, Jimin's speech took a turn of desperation. "Do you happen to remember, in our boyhood, whenever I lost an arrow, what used to be my immediate solution?" 

He didn't even give a brief pause for Jeongguk to answer. "I aimed an arrow in the same direction, as that of the previous one; but nine times out of ten, I was able to retrieve both of those. I-I know that it isn't fully reliable, but just this once - just this once, let us take this gamble."

All previous inhibitions overlooked, Jimin swiftly clasped both of the other's hands in zeal, that the force in his voice brought on, and peered deep into his eyes, gaze pleading. "If you support me this once, I swear, I'll return all the money you've ever lent me. Consider it as an investment."

Jeongguk could not make out the correct way to respond, which came as quite a surprise for his own self, since the declaration of love didn't exactly catch him offguard.

Forthrightly, he'd quite expected Jimin to say something along the lines of his heart being thieved by a lady, whose beauty could put even Aphrodite, to shame, and what not - and to make it even more dramatic, he prepared himself to not say anything regrettable, if Jimin were to inform him, that the said woman was married, or if she were to be from a lower caste; in short, the star-crossed lovers cliché, much like the relationship of the legendary Romeus and Juliet.

It didn't escape his scrutiny, how the blonde ceased to mention anything regarding the most prized virtues of womanhood, and how his beloved was enriched with them, making her the most eligible maiden, in the whole of Venice; and how he didn't gush on and on about her, much unlike Yoongi's lovestruck attitude.

Was the lady no more than a bottomless purse for Jimin?

Such deep philosophical thoughts, yet Jeongguk couldn't but voice the first thing that came in his mind. "Don't waste your breath on all these nonsensical pleas, Chim hyung."

Jimin flinched, and squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for a rejection, and maybe a few insults here and there.

"Do you doubt our friendship, and the love I have for you? Because, the way you ask me, suggests so. It is worse, much much worse than not ever returning the money you owe to me. Word your desires, and I shall do it. Tell me."

Jimin nodded, looking hesitant.

"There is lady in Belmont, going by the name, Kim Jennie, whom I came across during my visit there." He began, fiddling with the edge of the table, and picking the wood with his nails. 

"She is a wealthy heiress, who has been mourning the loss of her father. They say, she is looking for a suitor, and men, enchanted by the tales of her beauty and nobility, from all the four directions, yearn for her hand in marriage. If I were to have enough money to hold on my own, against those suitors, I know," Jimin met Jeongguk's gaze, "Gguk, that I would win her."

Jimin didn't know, whether it was the conviction in his voice, towards the end, or perhaps, by the good - whose content was, about 99.9% - in Jeongguk's heart, that convinced the latter to clap his hands together in glee, and enquire airily, "Ah! Very well, then. Min, what is the exact amount that you require?"

He saw Jimin's posture getting relaxed, shoulders drooping, eyes fluttering shut in relief, followed by a loud exhale, as the older shed his emotional guards.

There were times, when Jeongguk's mind would get plagued with thoughts of an uncertain future. Jin, Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin and Jeongguk went way back - they'd known each other from their diapers days, and had stuck together ever since. Everything had been different back then, and this thought alone, could make Jeongguk sigh out loud. But now, when they were all at the peaks of their youth, he wondered, if marriage would drift them apart. Would they cease to dine together, after each of them had wives and children to look after?

Cause, this was exactly what had happened to Yoongi.

It was only when thoughts of this kind swirled in the recesses of his mind, did he get bugged by that peculiar illness of sorts, that made his eyebrows get wrinkled, and lips turned downwards in a frown.

And it had hit him again, that morning.

"In sooth, the cause of my sadness is unknown to me, and neither can I speculate how I may possibly get diseased with something as severe." He had said, on being asked by Jin and Namjoon, whom he happened to cross paths with, on his way to Jimin's.

He had been met with several theories, each starring him either being in love, or extremely disturbed regarding the future of his ships, and nada nada. However, neither of them, could be exactly related to, by Jeongguk. It was this bug of an emotion, that had earned him a prolonged lecture from Hoseok himself, whose underlying meaning was known to be like a needle in a haystack - one looks for it the whole day, and when he finds it, he realizes that it wasn't worth the trouble.

And now, seeing the ever-composed Jimin in such a disarray, Jeongguk felt those thoughts resurface.

"I'm n-not quite sure, but," Jimin gave a brief pause, calculating on his finger, and said, without looking up, "maybe five hundred ducats shall do."

Satisfied with his presumably exquisite mathematical skills, he flashed Jeongguk a quick smile, since the other's gaze made it quite clear to him, that something sarcastic was about to be dropped.

Jeongguk replied with an exasperated sigh, suddenly feeling sympathetic with the older's antics. "You'd need more than five hundred to even court a beggar, and here you are, dreaming about wooing an heiress. Either you've been hiding a miserly attitude under your facade of generosity, or you are helplessly weak in calculations. 

But anyway, you will not be able to cover up all your expenses, with a budget so tight. If I'm not wrong, you should, at least take a sum of two-thousand."

"With that being done," he added, on receiving affirmation from Jimin, "when do you plan on departing for -" He gave Jimin a quizzical look.

"Belmont, departing for Belmont."

"Yes, Belmont. When do you plan to board for Belmont?" Jeongguk asked.

"I am not sure yet, but have vague plans to leave at the day of the Pre-Rialto Masquerade, that is, three days later. No specific reasons, but when I plan out everything in my head, that day seems the best." Jimin explained. "But then, my departure date is predominantly dependent on when you'll be able to provide me with the amount."

"Oh that won't be much of a hassle! I'll get it delivered here, by today evening -" it was then, that it struck Jeongguk like an arrow - the great realization, that he'd pressed into the back of his mind, while talking to Jimin.

If there was anything that Jeongguk abhorred - save, Taehyung's persona - then it was the enactment of 'all talk and no action', which happened to be why he slumped in his seat, his confidence dissipating, as the realization washed over him, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach - all his ships were overseas, and he did not have a single ducat to spare, until his trade ships were safely back at the harbour.

"Ah, Jimin . . ." Jeongguk began hesitantly, sucking up his pride, all his hopes of regarding the probability of Jimin delaying his departure going down the drain, "I have something to confess." 

Jeongguk took in a deep breath, momentarily shutting his eyes, collecting his thoughts, and conjuring from every fibre of his being, guts to face the reactions Jimin would display, on being let down - for, disappointing JImin, was one of the worst things, that he could commit. "I am afraid, at the moment, I don't have much money to spare, until my ships return, after a wait of at least, a month."

Jimin gasped, disheartened, looking at Jeongguk expectantly, having blind faith that the other will be able to manage something, somehow.

And Jeongguk did not like to disappoint.

Under any other circumstances, his 'confession' would've killed the mood, but it didn't, at the moment, since there wasn't any mood to begin with. Jimin being so solemn did not settle well with him. Where were the blushes? Where were the teases? It felt more like planning a funeral, than Jimin's possible wedding.

Jimin's gaze was unreadable, but he ended up giving an indifferent shrug.

"Well, there is something we can do." Jeongguk hummed, and Jimin could almost hear the gears turning in his head. "With the Rialto knocking at the door, I'm sure that the money lenders have a brimful pocket, at the moment.

I don't think it'll be too difficult a task to find someone capable enough to lend us a fat sum. And while we're at it, three thousand ducats, might as well be our principal sum. A thousand ducats don't make much of a difference." His tone was dismissive. "Better safe than sorry."

Jimin agreed.

✽ ✽ ✽

"Thank you, Signor, for the ride." Jeongguk smiled at the gondolier, handing him a couple of ducats, as he alighted from a flaxen hued gondola, that had been midway through transporting a fresh stock of flowers to a florist shop, with Jimin following his lead.

The gondolier had apparently been debted to Jeongguk. Good for Jeongguk, one might say, since he got a couple of ducats off, for the ride - perks of being a well known social figure.

"Where to, now?" Jeongguk asked.

Jimin, who was wobbly on his feet, after the very spasmodic gondola ride, somehow managed to conjure a checklist of sorts from the sewn pouch he had worn, round his hips, and handed it over to Jeongguk.

Jeongguk sighed.

Gaze flitting over to where Jimin stood, looking at him expectantly, he couldn't but wonder how such a big, immature baby was to have a successful married life. Jimin had listed the names of all Christian money-lenders, which amounted to a very very small number, not being aware of the fact that the Jews were those, who were into the business of money-lending.

The reason why Christians weren't much into money-lending, was based on a simple fact - the trade was prohibited by their Christian doctrines, that saw usury as a source of all evil, the belief being so intense that there were violent popular attacks on them, and reserved specially for the Jews, minorities who had no such customs. They were not even considered to be citizens, were not permitted to own lands, and were banned from all kinds of trade save, the dealing of second hand clothing, as a result of the action of a direct legislation, hence depriving them of most opportunities.

"Min, I hope you know that the Jews are the only hope we have, for borrowing money."

Turns out, Jeongguk had been accurate in his judgement; Jimin stood gaping at him, trying to absorb in, this staggering revelation.

Not wanting to delay themselves further, listening to Jimin's ramble - since his hanging jaw and wide eyes were were hints enough to warn him about what was to come, Jeongguk flashed him a teasing smile that read, "You're such a baby," and turned around, starting to walk, making his companion jolt out from his shock, and follow him into the heart of the city, so as to not lose sight of the other in the midst of a very crowded Rialto market.

The Rialto was indeed, the very pride of the city of Venice.

With the Stock Exchange knocking on the door, the bridge over the Grand Canal was bustling with people. Flamboyant gondolas passing under the Rialto Bridge, were specks in the picturesque panorama of the Grand Canal, which was awashed with a hue of azure, glittering like pieces of glass.

The Bridge of Rialto segregated the residential areas of the city from the Rialto Market, which was the hub of economic and social activity. With the sun directly overhead, the market had erupted in a heated frenzy. Skirts and shirts flurried as shopkeepers and visitors, alike, gave in to the din of animation that had cast a spell over the entire Rialto.

The arch bridge over the Grand Canal led into a piazza which diverged into crossroads, with each path having little stalls on either side. The air was thick with the enamouring aroma of spices, gaudy bud-blooms and sweet goodies. The cemented banks of the Canal roped in sleek and polished gondolas, and gondoliers intending to board in passengers, who were more than eager to distance themselves from such an intense form of social interaction.

With an incessant hum of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed chatter, not just being audible, but also spotting an usurer's office was supposed to be a ground-breaking achievement - except, the latter wasn't too hard to accomplish, at least not for the duo. Maybe, they had achieved such a feat, only cause the usurer's office was avoided like the plague by local traders, and most others, who believed that even association with a money-lender, would plow themselves into neck-deep debt. Cunning people they were, the Jews.

Describing the temporary roof over the money-lender's head as an 'office', would be a product of sheer misconception - the precise one being, 'a roof that was on the brink of tumbling over the Jew's head'. It was barely furnished, just had a wooden counter, under the shade of a red brick palate.

"Signor, my friend here, is urgently in need of a sum of three thousand ducats." Jeongguk said, approaching the drowsy Jew, whose head snapped up at the mention of money. His face, with greasy, long hair and bushy eyebrows, was not visually pleasing.

"When do you need it?" He asked nonchalantly, fingers carding through his untamed beard, and idly scratching it, as he squinted his eyes, gaze raking up both of their forms, evaluating whether they would be capable enough to pay back.

"Today itself, if you please, Signor." It would require one to be both blind and deaf, to not take note of Jeongguk finding it arduous to be polite to a Jew, whose nonchalant attitude was enough to tick him off. If not for Jimin's dire needs, he would certainly have made it a point to teach him, how to behave with customers. His lips twisted into a grimace.

"Name, tell me your name, and give me the title deed of your house for verification. Can't have you running away with my money like a 'lil bitch, now, can I?" He sneered, pulling himself up from his sedentary posture, with a light groan and a few curses, and motioned them to follow him.

"I'm Jeon Jeongguk, and he's Park Jimin. Money will be borrowed under my name, and hence, all the documents will be filed by me." Jeongguk answered.

The Jew froze, abruptly, and twisted backwards, to get a clear look at Jeongguk's face. His sneer got even more intense, as he spat out, "Oh! How fortunate it is, for me, to have the one and only embodiment of righteousness ask me for money! Pardon me, Signor Jeon, for I find myself unable to do business with you. Don't want to be ousted from my clan, now, nor get on the side of Signor Kim's wrath."

Fuck.

Jeongguk took in a panicked breath, and turned to look at Jimin for advice, lowkey hoping that the other came up with something, despite being aware of the fact that the other wouldn't be of much help - actually, couldn't be of much help, since he, himself was doomed.

But a man can dream.

No such luck.

Jimin had not even paying any attention to the conversation between him and the Jew, much too mesmerised by the form that the Rialto market had taken - appreciating small things of life.

Jeongguk was in it alone. Alone, but not about to give up. Jimin deserved happiness, which his naivete would not allow, unless an external force acted up for its attainment, and this time, that external force in question, was Jeongguk.

Kim Taehyung had forbidden all Jewish money-lenders from lending Jeongguk money, following the first time they fought. Kim was petty, and Jeongguk always knew that - it was something that was almost branded on his heart.

Yet, that did not prove to be a consolation satisfactory enough, for him to quit dreading those moments, when he would have to appear before the Jew, and beg him for money.

✽ ✽ ✽

"Ah, yes! Please hold on, I'll ask Signor Kim for your reception." The page-boy said, retreating into the house, leaving Jimin and Jeongguk at the doorstep; not his fault, since he'd been instructed by Taehyung, to not let anyone inside, without his prior consent. The page had been 'borrowed' by Taehyung from Jackson, following Baekhyun's resignation, and - fortunately - had his doubts regarding his true master, that is, Jackson Wang, cleared. All was well in his life.

All the Jews of Venice resided at the Ghetto, and Taehyung's manor, which was situated at the posh sides, happened to be the most extravagant one, of the area. With a white based built, and garishly stained glass windows, the house looked exotic, and provided a tough clash against Duke's ornamented castle itself. The top of Taehyung's manor bragged a gaudy hued glass dome, which was a slap to the face of the belief of having coloured glass windows only in Christian chapels. It was a fusion of multi-ethnic styles of architecture, exaggerating the opulence of the owner and his flourishing business.

The Ghetto was somewhat secluded at daytime, since more than half of the population was at the Rialto market, for business purposes, and would be there till dusk. But since Taehyung was the wealthiest of all usurers, all his borrowers, arrived at his residence, for loans.

But that did not concern Jeongguk, did it?

A number of squeaks, hushed - though, audible to Jeongguk - whispers and clanks of god knows what, preceded Taehyung's appearance at the door, facing the duo.

"Well well, whom do I have the pleasure of -" He began, leaning against the door-frame, wearing a smug smirk, that was washed off his face the moment he had to leave his sentence unfinished owing to Jeongguk's interruption.

"Three thousand ducats." Jeongguk stated with pride - at least, that is what Taehyung felt, completely unaware of the fact that the other was wincing internally, cursing himself for punctuating the Jew's opening sentence, that, most probably wasn't going to be of any aid for their cause and, Jeongguk wouldn't be able to bear begging for money. "I ask for three thousand ducats, for three months."

The smirk on Taehyung's reappeared, this time, with full vigour.

"I see, three thousand ducats." He hummed.

Jimin nodded. "Yes, Sire, for three months."

"I see, for three months." Taehyung hummed.

Jimin nodded once again. "Yes, Sire, and Jeongguk will guarantee the loan. If I default, he will pay you."

Now, it was Jeongguk who hummed with a faux accent, accompanied by a thoughtful expression and furrowed eyebrows, imitating Taehyung. "I see, Jeongguk will guarantee the loan." His utterance underwent a change, as he sneered, "Can you stop with this shit?!"

Jimin had to fight off a smile.

Taehyung hummed. "I see, stop with this shit." And Jeongguk had to restrain himself, from throwing hands at the Jew; it was extremely agonizing for him to continue being polite to the other.

"Ah, Jeongguk! Have patience." Jimin reprimanded his friend, who, in his fury, had failed to acknowledge that they were in a very tight spot. Turning to look at Taehyung, he asked, "Can you help me? What is your answer?"

Taehyung was solemn, as he moved aside, letting Jimin and Jeongguk in. Jeongguk, for one, had absolutely no desire to visit Taehyung's forsaken parlor, but had no choice, other than following, since he could not leave Jimin, who was tailing Taehyung, alone with the latter.

The curtains were pulled, at the parlor, in an attempt to shield out the heat of the mid-day sun, making it dark, but not enough for them to miss out a figure already seated in the room, before their arrival. Jeongguk scoffed in distaste, at the thought of dealing with two Jews simultaneously.

"Three thousand ducats, with Jeongguk guaranteeing it." Taehyung responded, turning to look at Jimin, who was eagerly staring at him. "Jeongguk's a good man."

Jeongguk who had seated himself adjacent to Jimin, and across Taehyung, scoffed, and in the attempt of doing so, he somehow managed to choke on his saliva, erupting in a fit of coughs.

Jimin, however, remained dauntless, and cross-questioned the Jew. "Have you ever heard of anything to the contrary?"

"What? No, no, no! What I meant to say is, though he is an honest man, his profits are uncertain for the time being." Taehyung defended himself, voice a bit too animated, earning a glare from Jeongguk. "His ships are bound to so many destinations, and the situation might get bad, at the sea, you never know - pirates, storms, thieves, and what not?"

Taehyung took a deep breath, adding an element of suspense as to what his final reply might be. "And, for you to assume that I'll lend you, Christians, money at this moment, will be no less than a dream." Taehyung sneered in conclusion, shedding all etiquettes of polite refusal.

Taehyung's verbal reasons were vague, but his internal ones, which he did not bother to voice out, were anything but - they were the products of accumulation of age-long grudges. He loathed Jeongguk for being a Christian, and that itself was reason enough for him, to not help the other. The latter always found ways to meddle in his business, lending money without interest, that dampened his requirements as a usurer.

Moreover, he had been called names and had been spat upon, yet, the spineless Christians slithered their ways back to him, now that they were short of money. What happened to Jeongguk's principle of not borrowing money with interest?

He wouldn't give them even a single ducat, even if they were to die in the streets, cold and hungry. And, Jackson, who was seated beside him, had taken note of his dilemma.

He pulled Taehyung to a corner, away from the Christians' earshot, and whispered, "I think, you should supply him the money."

Muffling Taehyung's protests, and maybe, insults, that would've befallen upon him, he added, "But for a certain price, obviously." Jackson grinned mischievously.

And that, had successfully piqued Taehyung's scrutiny. "You better explain how, Wang . . . wait! I do not trust these Christians." He said, eyeing the Christian duo, who were, in turn, eyeing them both, all agog.

He rung the butler bell push, that had been fixed on the wall Taehyung stood facing. Sharp creaking of the floorboards announced the arrival of the page, who had been 'borrowed' by him.

"Did you ring, Sire?"

"Ah, yes! I want you to keep watch over my guests, whilst Signor Wang and I, have a little discussion out there. You are to notify me without any ado, if these gentlemen, so much as get up from their seats."

Without waiting for a reply - since he knew that Kalungini had no choice, but to blindly obey what had been asked of him - Taehyung turned on his heels, and flinging open the parlor door, stepped out into the hallway, pulling Jackson with him, by the wrist, not bothering to excuse himself from his 'guests', aware of the fact that they would suck in whatever treatment, that was meted out to them, after all, they had nowhere else to go.

"Speak."

Jackson has his full attention averted towards his wrist, as he massaged it soothingly, huffing in offense, at being manhandled, and refused to say a word.

Taehyung groaned. "Oh, c'mon, don't be a pussy now. Honestly, you act like a girl, and would've mistaken to as one too, had I not been acquainted with you." He quirked an eyebrow in suspicion. "Or perhaps, you are a girl?"

Jackson scowled at him. "Stop spewing shit. You should be indebted to me, that I'm willing to look past our differences, and helping you out."

Taehyung chuckled. "Why are you helping me, then? I'll go, and refuse both those Christian bitches."

"Wait." Jackson held out a hand. "Listen to me first -" He seemed perplexed. "Why am I helping you out, anyways?" He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

"You tell me."

Jackson ignored Taehyung's statement, that was getting a quite deal successful in pissing him off, and commenced with his master-plan instead, leaning against a wall in the hallway, than he had formulated in his mind, within a matter of a few minutes - perks of being a solicitor, since it exposed him to all kinds of treacherous schemes, the most recent one being, the 'pound of flesh' conflict between a certain Jew and a Christian, which had primarily influenced his suggestion to Taehyung.

"I'm assuming that you've heard of that 'pound of flesh' clash, that had shaken the entire constitution of Venice; you know, the one in which the Jew ended up losing his entire estate?" Satisfied on receiving a nod from the other, Jackson continued. "I'm thinking of something similar." Jackson paused, planning the way, he was to present the scheme, before Taehyung.

"Yes?" Taehyung prodded.

"Just a minute. Just planning how I am to explain it to you." He bit his lip, staring at a random painting hung on the wall, and fidgeted with his fingers, his actions exactly as plastic as it seems to be. "And yes - do not interrupt me while I speak; I tend to forget what I am to say." He let out, with a sheepish grin.

The past few days had witnessed Jackson's frequent visits at their abode, primarily to call in on his betrothed. But, since Jisoo refused to even step out of her chambers, while Jackson was in their house, and the lady being really hard to delude, he had no choice but to make conversation with Taehyung. Leaving early could be considered rather impolite, and he had no desire to bring such a tag upon himself.

It was only during these small tid-bits they happened to share with each other, he came across the realization that the feared Jew, was just a man who was rather blunt, and spoke the truth, which was often perceived as arrogance - though he is an arrogant and cocky man, who did not think twice before popping an insult, but whatever. Human psychology is a knot of complications.

Jackson liked to think that they were past the stage of being just acquaintances.

"Okay, listen carefully." Jackson said, looking around for any eavesdropper, though the hallway was as devoid of a soul, as ever. But what could Jackson do? One had to be careful, especially with matters as fragile as this. "And remember, do not interrupt."

And this, was how he set his tongue into motion, taking a deep breath. "Tell Jeongguk to sign a BDSM bond with you-"

"Wait, hold up!" Taehyung held up a hand, looking at Jackson incredulously, eye splayed open with shock. Taehyung didn't speak for a solid moment, mustering energy for what was to come.

He burst out laughing - not a brief chuckle, but a full-on cackle, that left him on his knees, and voice hoarse with the residue of the solid lump of mirth.

"BDSM bond?" Taehyung scrupulously enunciated each syllable, making sure if he got anything wrong, or perhaps, in his fucked up state of mind, if he kind of hallucinated Jackson spewing shit of such enormous magnitude, and when Jackson didn't correct him, Taehyung chuckled once again - blood rushing exultantly in his veins, on getting the confirmation, that it was not him, who was drugged, but Jackson, who was stoned on some pretty strong shit.

"With Jeongguk, that too?" He tried once more.

Jackson didn't budge, and Taehyung snickered, both hands coming to rest on Jackson's shoulders, to give a friendly little pat - or so he thought, which was clearly, the epitome of imprecision, since Taehyung's face scrunched into some sort of demonic mask, with his teeth bared, and eyes almost getting squeezed into inconspicuous crescents, the flesh around his mouth, in deep ripples, as he grabbed Jackson by the shoulders, and tried to shake some sense into his thick, thick skull.

Jackson's voice came out shaky and squeaky, as he tried to yell his way out of the other's vice-like grip, which he couldn't get rid of, on even applying his entire might.

Have to ask him 'bout his workout schedule someday, Jackson noted.

"Man, you high or some?" Taehyung asked, voice smothered with a fusion of desperation and perplexion and anxiety, seasoned with a bit (read: a whole damn cosmic lot) of disbelief.

Jackson steeled himself, and did the only thing, that would save his flesh and soul from the product of such fatal ingredients - he started twerking.

"You- what the actual freaking frickity fucking fuck?! " Taehyung yelped, jumping away from Jackson, and his obnoxious hip-rolling exercise. "What are you doing??" 

"Nothing serious! Just making some space between us!" Jackson said, still twerking, and making his way towards the opposite wall of the hallway. "You come close to me, and I'll start twerking again. It's your call!"

Taehyung raised his hands in surrender, and heard Jackson speak out. "Anyway, lemme continue." There was a brief pause - presumably Jackson recalling where he had left off - punctuated with occasional huffs, here and there, as he struggled to keep up the movement, lest, Taehyung would cross over to his side, and give him a piece of his mind. "Oh, and I ain't high."

"Yeah so, you sign a BDSM bond with Jeongguk-" Jackson shot Taehyung a warning glare, when he saw the latter run his tongue along his lips, and part them to speak, still holding on to the blackmail about twerking "-in return for lending him the principal amount. If Jeongguk fails to repay the money by the due date, then-"

"He'll be able to come up with the money, and I know that. I just say that he's a broke ass bitch, simply to spite him." Taehyung admitted, huffing grumpily, and casually ignoring Jackson's incessant caveats, and how, somewhere along the way, the other was standing stiff, and not trying to imitate a drugged bamboozle.

Jackson frowned, choosing to look over how he had not been paid any heed, and instead, enquired about the bigger matter at hand. "When you know, that you'll get the amount back, that too, with interest, then why don't you just agree to do business with him? And about your old rivalry, just charge him more interest than you usually do, and spit it on his face?"

"Look, he came to me, asking for money," Taehyung began, leaning against the wall, "agreeing to borrow it with interest, when he hates getting involved in usury, usually, and goes on, about how Christianity forbids it. It must be something huge and important, right?" He saw Jackson nod in approval, copying his stance. "And I want to take advantage of that - turn him away in his times of need."

Jackson nodded once more, reasoning with Taehyung. "Why not take advantage advantage of that, then?"

"What the fuck am I supposed to make out of 'advantage advantage'?"

Jackson chuckled. "You, obviously, weren't the first option he chose, for borrowing money."

Taehyung hummed in affirmation. "I forbade all the Jewish lenders from doing business with him."

"Yeah, so if we go by your words, then nobody else agreed to give him money, so he was forced at your door. Thus, we come to the conclusion, that you are his last hope. Yes?"

Taehyung agreed. "So, what are you hinting at?"

Jackson propped himself away from the wall, and stepped towards Taehyung, having probably forgotten about his narrow escape from Taehyung's clutches. "What I mean to say is, he has to agree with whatever conditions you lay, in return for the money, since he is in a helpless situation, with you as his only way out."

"Ah!" Taehyung face brightened at the epiphany. "Then what do you propose?"

"Sign a BDSM bond with him."

Taehyung expression soured almost instantly. "That's gross. Moreover, it's Jeongguk, you know, not a woman. And I'm not into men for god's sake!"

Jackson scowled. "Listen to me, will you?"

Taehyung shook his head, but Jackson paid no mind to it, casting it away, labelling it to be 'an act of rebellion, that was actually a phase, that'll pass away.' But Taehyung was a grown ass man, not a hormonal adolescent. Or, whatever. "This bond will only get active if Jeongguk fails to repay the amount by the due date. And in such situation, he has to act as your concubine, wherever you go - any social gathering, with Jeongguk as your lady. Cool, isn't it?"

Jackson took a breather, glancing at Taehyung, who was giving him a duh expression.

"He's not a woman, and what's even the use of such shit . . . ?" Taehyung pointed out.

"See, the main motive is to taint his godly image, that he upholds here, in Venice, and get him banished."

Taehyung looked at him curiously. "And how are you planning to do that? Will he be banished, just cause he's caught dressing up as a woman?"

Taehyung gasped in realization, and Jackson nodded with vigour. "Just get him in your bed, half-nude, and somewhat cross-dressed. He'll be called a homosexual, then, and banished."

"And, how am I supposed to do that, pray tell?" Taehyung wore a sickly sweet grin, looking almost offensive, and exaggeratedly batted his lashes up at Jackson, who seemed to have been taken aback by the sudden flip of the other's demeanour - not exactly getting that Taehyung was being sarcastic, or more like, trying to be sarcastic.

And in other circumstances, Taehyung would have certainly waged a fucking war - on seeing that he got a fool made out of himself all cause Jackson couldn't read between the lines, and thus perceive the actual meaning of his words - all his senses coming together to shape into an enormous battalion, that would petrify the bejesus out of the other.

But since the Jackson's face was expected  to twist into a chagrin either way, and it did happen so - making the situation somewhat similar to the times, when a mega fortunate kid did an entire sum wrong, but got the correct answer anyway, and the teacher being an airhead, did not bother to go through the procedure and inked it - the former let himself be deluded into supposing that he was able to pull the desired response.

Well, it could not exactly be called menacing, cause a lot of time as well as energy was conserved, and in Jackson's case, he did not have to twerk, to bail his way out of the other's wrath.

But, since Jackson had honestly been caught off guard, he was barely able to put a few words together in his defense, as of then, when his mouth took it upon itself to go all 'fuck-it' mode on his brain and let his guts out, which actually took upon the form of an unintelligible gibberish, all smushed and squeezed into a single clump. "Asas nvlrjnv nwnco nown-"

It articulated into something akin to a keyboard smash, somehow read out loud, and extremely agonizing to be listening to.

Taehyung winced at the harsh cacophony, but - very generously - chose to look over the teeny tiny flaws that Jackson displayed, now and then, coming to the conclusion that it all - and this one, too - was a product of his inability to come up with a sound rebut to Taehyung's argument.

"Ha!" Taehyung taunted, frame oozing out cockiness. "Do you see now, how . . ." he trailed off, brows knotting at the middle of his forehead, as he frowned, frustrated on not being able to brainstorm an apt adjective. Like, a pause this huge, when he was supposed to be delivering a fabulous comeback, kind of made his efforts futile, and overall lame.

Shit. Using 'idiotic', sounds so mundane, oh my hell!

A second passed, then two, three, four, but he couldn't come up with anything- he gasped, eyes flying open in excitement, as he hurried out, trying to ease into the previous condescending chirp. "-glaikit it was, on your part, to suggest something as brazen as this?" He finished, looking almost proud of himself.

Turns out, even shaking Jackson's skull out - and triggering his flight-and-fight instinct, that came out into the form twerking his hips out - could not garner a reaction as intense as the times someone used the words 'brazen' and 'glaikit' to relate to his master scheme, that came into existence, on the event of his wit reaching its best heights.

Or in other words, Taehyung had not only called his wit names, but had also dared to commit the heinous deed of questioning it.

Unforgivable!

You can curse at Jackson, but you absolutely do not call his brains names. That was something he found appalling, unacceptable.

And that happened to be why Jackson whipped towards Taehyung, whose conceited smirk was progressively getting blanched, on being met with the almost predatory look on the other's face.

"What the fuck did you say? Care to repeat?" Jackson sharply growled out through gritted teeth, giving the other a pointed look. He was offended, and there was no saying otherwise.

Fight me, bitch!

Apparently, Taehyung was able to read the sudden aura of vexation, that shrouded the other's form, and he, consequently, breathed out a laugh, raising his hands up in surrender. "Geez! No need to get all worked up!" He chuckled light-heartedly, attempting to dab some damage control onto the wounds, wanting to do nothing more than just pacify - it would not exactly be commendable to get his ass beat, with Christians in the house.

Look, it wasn't as if Taehyung was all talk and no action - he was buff and strong, and all macho, everything that Jeon was not, or as he liked to believe. Plus, there was also this supposition, that he was mightier than Jackson too. But then, he could get himself to be foolish enough to engage in a brawl with a pissed man with an injured ego.

Nope.

An angry dude could overpower an army of thousands, and that happened to be rightfully true.

Taehyung could be stupid, but he was not stupid. (You get the idea!)

But all talks aside, his broken efforts seemed to be doing their magic - somewhat. Jackson still had a defensive posture on, and a half-assed scowl, looking at him wearily.

Jackson cleared his throat. "So you want to get into Jeon's pants?"

Taehyung was fucking horrified. "Ew no!" He scrunched his face in disgust. "It sounds so wrong when you put it like that!"

Jackson, however, remained unwavering and shrugged, totally letting the other's words go to deaf ears, after all, Taehyung had to pay up for abusing his brain, and would thus have to bear with whatever Jackson supplied, no matter how 'wrong' it sounded, to him. "You wanted to bed Jeon, then you should've told me earlier!" He was nonchalant throughout. "Just drug him or spike his drink when he's out with you as your concubine, and lead him on."

"No!" Taehyung paled, looking disgusted and almost went hysterical. "No, not me and a man!" He paused, face going comically stoic.

There was a pregnant pause, and Taehyung didn't speak.

Jackson got nervous. Fuck, did he go into an internal cardiac arrest, or something . . . ? Like, one that gives no pain and all, but directly kills? He took in a laboured breath, and shook his head. Shit. I knew it! I shouldn't have dropped this bomb on him. His heart is too weak to handle shit. He already has to deal with Christians everyday, and they are alone, pain enough. Stupid Me! Stupid Jackson! Jackson gave himself quite a few punches mentally - cause he did not have the balls to actually punch himself.

Concerned for the other's well-being, he slowly poked Taehyung in the shoulder, very very gently - like, in case Taehyung's knees buckle and he falls or something. No response, none at all, and no falling face-first on the floor either.

Jackson heaved a sigh of relief. Taehyung is just in a daze.

And with that in mind, his thumb and pointer moved forth, to pinch the other hard, in his arms. But before he could effectively carry on the deed, Taehyung tuned to face him, and breathed out, "A-a-and that stuff would be without consent- man or no man, you don't fuck someone without their consent!" He stared wide-eyed, almost looking like a child, at Jackson, who froze, only to gasp dramatically, a few moments later.

Jackson clutched his chest in faux offense. "Hell, today you going all accusing-accusing mode on me. You are almost making me seem like a pervert who gets off by sodomizing men!"

Perplexed, Taehyung started to splutter, and point. "Bu-but, didn't you just tell me to get him high on an aphrodisiac, to . . . fuck?"

Jackson began, holding up a hand in defense, frowning and seemingly in thought as he did so. "Aphrodisiac does sound wrong. You know what, you just get him drunk, like mad drunk, and . . ."

He proceeded to look at Taehyung, perking up at that, looking peeved out, and gait abruptly getting guarded. "Wait wait! Hold up. Who said anything about fucking? You just leave him all disheveled and half-assedly clothed on your bed, and rat out, aka lie that he threw himself on you! That fucking it."

Taehyung looked discombobulated.

"You won't be touching him in an inappropriate way! Why would you, you're not gay!" Jackson patted his shoulders comfortingly, and grinned with pride at Taehyung abstractly nodding at his words. "You just get him tipsy- well, tipsy to the point, that he can't stand properly. He obviously wouldn't throw himself at you, but, you would just be accusing him of doing so!"

He continued when he saw Taehyung proving himself to be frictionless, "There will be a condition that revolves around how he shall not be allowed to have a copy of the bond. I'll be solicitor, so you won't have any trouble from my side, and I doubt he'll tell anyone of this arrangement out of shame and fear of being shunned out, so no witnesses there. The prospect of having a witness or any proof to deem himself innocent, is blocked."

Taehyung hummed, nodding and going along with whatever Jackson proposed, not seeing any holes, in the scheme, as of yet.

But then, his shoulders slumped. "What if his ships come back on time, pray tell?"

Nothing could loot away that smirk of self-assurance, that was resting on his features. "Leave that to me. I'll make sure, that he gets trapped."

Taehyung, however, was not convinced. "Jackson, what you suggest, is perfect, merely in theory. It's not possible to carry out some shit as deceptive as this. We won't make it." He explained softly, somewhat disheartened, on coming to the conclusion, that it was all too dreamy.

"Our plan, if you say so, might not harm Jeongguk the way we intend it to," Jackson paused, looking at Taehyung right in the eye, "but it wouldn't hurt us to try, either."

Jackson shrugged. "Perhaps, by some freaky happenstance, the Christian might get sued, we might be successful, but we shouldn't count on it, though, I really don't think that there is any chance that he will get out unscathed - at the minimum, we can clip his ego. Then again, it is your call."

Taehyung didn't reply, and Jackson gave a thumbs up at that, grinning. A quiet Taehyung is equivalent to a deal sealed.

"Oh, now that it's all done, let's twerk in celebration!"

Jeon Jeongguk is royally fucked.

✽ ✽ ✽

sooo, what do y'all think about jackson and taehyung??

btw, i feel that their friendship is the most iconic one, in this book, somewhat cute, ig