Min Yoongi swore as he slid down the side of the Jeon's warehouse. The building housed their weapons, Drive crates from The Kims, and boxing equipment the gang sold as a cover business. Yoongi sucked in a breath, taking a second to steady himself before popping his shoulder back into place and cursing through the flash of white-hot pain.

"Parks." He hissed, wiping his mouth as he leaned his head against the warehouse to catch his breath. A group of Park kids had attacked the place, catching Yoongi as he was leaving. Jungkook kept his Drive deal with The Kims completely under wraps from the other gangs, so the young mafia members could've have known what was being stored in the building other than Jeon weapons.

Yoongi hated two things in this world: the stair-master and idiots. The five Park members easily fell into the second category. They probably only came to the warehouse on a dare in the first place. It was the only reason Yoongi could come up with for them to try for the Jeon guns - they weren't exactly what Yoongi would call strategists.

He hadn't looked to fucking murder the kids, but a couple broken noses would do them some good. Maybe he could punch some sense into them. Unfortunately, the tallest of the group managed to get a good couple of hits in while Yoongi was distracted. Two of them ganged up on him, dislocating his arm while another punched him in the chin. Having enough, Yoongi pulled out his gun and shot one of them in the thigh. It was enough to scare the kids off, causing them to scatter away like scared rats.

"Came back for seconds?" Yoongi coughed, looking up at Seoul's night sky as he heard feet scrape the ground. There were no stars out, the city's light pollution never let them shine through, but Yoongi liked to bleed the colors of the skyscrapers together and imagine that they were the stars blinking back at him. Slowly, he lowered his chin, then frowned.

"Help." A voice sweeter than honey said as a man stepped out into the lamp light outside the warehouse. Yoongi's spine straightened. This wasn't a Park. He knew the gang's type; delicate didn't usually make the cut. The kid looked like he might be in his lower twenties, his muscles lined like a ballet dancer's. He was cupping his side, his shirt torn revealing angry bruises. His ribs were a storm of color, his chin littered with cuts and there was dried blood on his lips. His hair was a mess like he'd been pulled by it and sweat covered his neck as he limped with each step.

The stranger's dark eyes met Yoongi's own.

"Did those kids do this to you?" Yoongi asked, standing up. His movements were slow, almost lazy, but Yoongi's voice sounded like murder. Attacking Yoongi was one thing, attacking someone helpless was another.

The stranger didn't answer right away. His eyes darted quickly across Yoongi's face like he was assessing him, trying to calculate what Yoongi's play was. The caution made Yoongi sigh.

Seokjin was going to kill him if he brought back another stray. Yoongi could already hear the head of intel's whining voice in the back of his head: 'There isn't time to train new members, Yoongi. Just focus on who you already have! Make them better first!'

"How about we start with names?" Yoongi said. "I'm Min Yoongi. I'm The Jeons' Head of Arms. I won't hurt you."

The boy's eyes flickered then with the strangest thing then: amusement. Yoongi blinked and the look was gone. "My name's Jimin." The injured boy said. He reached a hand to the lamp-post next to him, supporting his body up. "Please, help me." Jimin said and the lamp flickered causing shadows to dance across his soft face. "I'll die out here."

"Where'd you come from?"

Again, the shadows flickered. "Busan. I was chased out of there. Please, help me. I don't know this city."

Seokjin could go fuck himself, Yoongi decided. What was taking on one more stray? Seokjin was so distracted these days he probably wouldn't even notice Yoongi training someone new. "Come on." Yoongi said, walking towards Jimin and wrapping a hand around his waist to help hold him up. "Let's get you somewhere safe."

Jimin hissed in pain as he walked weakly in Yoongi's grip. Yoongi's frown deepened; he hadn't seen a beating this bad in a long time. From up close Yoongi could see how fresh the bruises were and how littered Jimin's body was in old scars. "Let's get you cleaned up and then fed. We can decide what to do with you after, yea?"

Jimin nodded and the pair left the warehouse, heading for The Jeon's base a couple blocks down. Yoongi watched Seoul's lights blur together as they walked, following Jimin as if the colors bled off of him.

* * *

Jeon Jungkook, Don of the Jeon Gang in Seoul and self appointed hottest man of the century, stood at the entrance of his gang's private gym. It was located in a bustling part of the city on the west side of Seoul. Most people walking by the glass building would never realize it belonged to one of the most dominant gangs in the city. In fact, most would never know almost every gym in Seoul did.

Jungkook clenched his jaw. Tension in Seoul was growing thicker each day. The Jade siblings had taken over their gang since their uncle overdosed a few years back - even though he was a known alcoholic, not a drug abuser. Then there were The Parks whose Don - an old, dying women - turned her gang over to her much younger right-hand this year. Lastly, The Jeons. Jungkook's been acting Don for them for six years now. Seokjin, Jungkook's head of intel, warned Jungkook the city was too quiet amidst all that change. All that new blood, all that shift in leadership, and yet the gang borders remained relatively peaceful.

It was Yoongi though, not Seokjin, who drew Jungkook back to the gym. The structure was modern, split between two floors with walls made of large bullet-proof one-way glass. The second floor held a fighting mat with boxing bags and lockers. The first floor, the one Jungkook was most interested in, held two target ranges. One for short ranged weapons and another for long ones.

'It's been a while since we've found someone that already knows what they're doing,' Yoongi had explained to Jungkook when they had worked out together earlier that day. More accurately, Jungkook had bench pressed while Yoongi counted the sets, waving off his love for doing nothing as a fully healed shoulder injury flaring up.

Jungkook couldn't remember the last time Yoongi bothered to mention a new recruit by name. 'Jin's going to love that.' Jungkook had grinned and Yoongi rolled his eyes. Seokjin and Yoongi regularly argued over how to prepare for a possible gang war. Yoongi wanted more bodies, Seokjin wanted to sharpen the ones they already had.

'Jin would have taken him in, too. You should have seen the poor kid when he first showed up here last month. He was covered in bruises. I mean, shit Jungkook, I'm surprised he's even alive.' Yoongi had explained. 'I've only trained him a couple weeks now but he's skilled. I mean, really skilled. You should go to the training gym and check him out. His name's Jimin. He didn't give a last name and I didn't ask for one, but I think you're gonna like him.'

Yoongi started out as a champion in Seoul's fighting rings before he came to The Jeons; Jungkook used to worry that training people in a similar space would be hard on Yoongi but the opposite was true. Teaching others how to protect themselves seemed to heal him. Scanning the familiar space of the gym now caused a wave of nostalgia to hit Jungkook from the years he used to train there with Yoongi. Back before the gym got renovated, when it was barely more than a place to box, and before his mom passed away and the mantle of the gang was handed down to Jungkook. Jungkook had a personal gym built after his mother's death. He had ordered a renovation for this one the year after, but some echoes remained. The concrete floors were the same, the general layout and height of the walls too.

What surprised Jungkook the most was how empty the gym was. He remembered it being louder when he was a kid and would come in to spar with his mom. The sound of daggers hitting a target board across the room sounded like bullets ricocheting in the complete absence of other noise. Jungkook's attention locked onto the figure throwing them.

He blinked. The new guy looked completely different from the scared and introverted person Yoongi had described. He was dressed in tight black jeans and a cropped jacket with hair darker than the night sky. There were no more bruises on him, though Jungkook could see some light scars where his shirt rode up and the hint of a tattoo on the back of his neck. He stood with one foot back, shoulders rolled down, and his fingers danced on the hilt of a throwing knife before he let it fly loose in the air. There was no hesitation in the movement, no fear that the weapon would drop or nick him, and Jungkook watched it land directly on the red line of the outermost ring.

Jungkook crossed his arms, leaning against the wall with raised brows. Not a bullseye but the form was beautiful.

The trainee, Jimin, threw another dagger and it landed one inch away from the first, again on the outer ring. This caused Jungkook to pause. A third dagger was released, and then a fourth, then a fifth, following perfectly in succession without so much of a twitch in Jimin's fingers causing the row of knives to fan out like rays of the sun, exactly one inch away from each other.

"You can come in, you know." Jimin said, lowering the sixth knife he'd picked up. "Yoongi said we could use the space whenever we want. I'm not taking it away from you if you want to get some throws in."

Oh. Oh. He thought Jungkook was another trainee. It wasn't too surprising, The Jeons were massive and catching sight of The Don was a rarity.

"How'd you hear me?" Jungkook asked. "I was being all stealthy."

The recruit turned and Jungkook flicked his brows up, playing with the ring on his lower lip. Yoongi didn't mention the guy was beautiful. He had sharp, intelligent eyes, with heavy lashes set against neat cheekbones and a soft face. It wasn't a face that belonged to Seoul's crime-world.

"You should invest in some quieter boots."

"But I look so sexy in these." Jungkook replied with a grin, walking deeper into the room and heading for the throwing range. His chunky shoes echoed with each step. Jimin was right, these shoes were loud. Fashionably loud, that is.

"You've got good aim." Jungkook said, looking at the target board. Even within The Jeon ranks, Jungkook had never seen someone with as much control over their knives as Jimin demonstrated. No wonder Yoongi was in love with him.

"Beginner's luck." Jimin replied. He leaned back on the table which held the throwing knives, crossing one ankle in front of the other. Jimin tilted his head and assessed Jungkook under his heavy lashes in a way very few people in Jungkook's life ever had. It was teasing, almost. Jungkook felt more patronized than seduced under it. Like all his strengths and weaknesses had been measured up in that one blink and whatever Jimin had found, he wasn't impressed by.

Jungkook's tongue poked into his cheek.

Jungkook's muscles shifted under the black shirt he was wearing. The tattoos covering his entire right arm were on full display too, the ink deep and skillful, pairing with the piercings he had on his brow and lip. Most people took one look and they at least swallowed. Jimin didn't seem phased by any of it. It made Jungkook itch. Suddenly he was back to being a little kid chasing Seokjin around a playground, desperately wanting the older boy to think he was cool.

Jimin tilted his head like a cat deciding which sunspot to lay in. "Do you want to give it a try?"

Jungkook flicked his brows up. Jimin reached for a knife and handed it out to Jungkook. From so close, Jungkook realized Jimin's eyes were an incredibly deep brown color. The colors sort of bled into one another, getting darker with each ring closer to his pupil. Kinda like a fucked-up sunset.

Jungkook cleared his throat. What was he doing again?

"I can help you, if you need it." Jimin said and a grin danced in those dark eyes like he was delighted by a secret.

"I bet you say that to all the boys." Jungkook replied, reaching for the knife. His fingers brushed across Jimin's rough own and he wasn't sure why the texture surprised him. Jimin didn't look like the type to get his hands dirty that often. He looked - soft? Not in a creepy way - though that phrasing definitely made Jungkook sound creepy. Jimin was beautiful the way expertly crafted weapons were, Jungkook supposed. Maybe that's why he felt so unnerving.

"Only to the pretty ones." Jimin replied, taking a step back to give Jungkook space to throw. Jungkook could feel his assessing eyes brush along him. They weighed the stance of Jungkook's legs, crawling up the slight dip in his thighs where Jungkook centered his balance, down across Jungkook's tattooed forearm where he raised the knife, and lastly lingered on his fingers as the knife released. It hit slightly above the line near the other five daggers. Not perfect like Jimin's throws, but damn near close.

"More of a hand-to-hand guy." Jungkook explained, boxing the air then stopping mid punch. Jimin lifted his brows at him. Jungkook lowered his hands.

"Right." Jimin said after a beat. Jimin didn't shy away from eye-contact, Jungkook noticed. It made Jungkook feel incredibly small in a way that was hard to achieve when you lead a crime-organization for a living.

"Who taught you to throw?" Jungkook asked, pulling again at his lip ring. For someone who had ran to the Jeons in bruises, Jimin had done an incredible job regaining his confidence.

Jimin tilted his head. "Are you asking me as a fellow trainee or as my boss?"

Jungkook paused. "What gave it away?"

"A recruit wouldn't buy Chelsea boots."

"What is with you and my shoes?"

"Nothing, just means you can get away with being heard. So, either you're high ranking or an idiot with a death wish."

"Pretty and smart? Looks like some people really can have it all." Jungkook teased, running a hand through his rather fluffy hair. He sort of hoped Jimin would note just how fluffy it was. The fact that Jungkook could keep up a solid conditioning treatment while also running an entire crime network was impressive. He wanted Jimin to think so too.

Jimin rolled his eyes, but a hint of a smile tugged at his lips and Jungkook felt the strangest sort of victory over it.

"I'm surprised you're so young, though." Jimin said. Something dark but delighted flickered across Jimin's brown eyes and it caused Jungkook to flex his fingers at his side. "Shouldn't you be in class learning the alphabet right now?"

"I recently graduated into numbers, actually." Jungkook said.

Jimin only blinked back. There was no fear in Jimin's gaze, no real respect in them either, simply an acknowledgment of Jungkook's rank and nothing more. Even when he joked there was a lightness missing to his tone.

Jungkook tugged again on the ring on his lip and glanced at the scar above Jimin's collarbone.

"Yoongi told me you didn't show up here in the best shape." Jungkook said carefully. Jimin paused and Jungkook watched his grip tighten slightly against the edge of the table he was leaning against. Looks like that confidence could, in fact, waver.

"What response to that are you hoping for?" Jimin asked.

It took Jungkook aback. Each time the recruit spoke, it threw the gang leader for a loop. He was direct in a way even Yoongi often avoided - and Yoongi was a friend Jungkook grew up with long before any ranks came into play. A part of Jungkook liked it, wanted to throw more coals into Jimin's fire to see how long it could burn, and the other part of him wanted to scream.

"I just meant," Jungkook said, leaning forward and lifting a brow when Jimin didn't so much as shift his chin away. "Yoongi said you were covered in bruises. I guess a month would be enough to heal them but still. Are you -" Jungkook hesitated, fearing he'd sound stupid and for some reason desperately didn't want this stranger to think even less of him, "- are you okay?"

Jimin blinked. It was slight, but Jungkook caught the surprise in it.

"No. I'm not. Does that make you uncomfortable?"

Jungkook poked his tongue into his cheek. The Jeons weren't in the business of leaving their own defenseless. "Would you feel better if I set one of my hitmen on whoever hurt you?"

That made a real smile pull at Jimin's lips. It was an amused look, like Jungkook had said something endearing instead of heroic. He was about to add that he could do it, seek out whoever this abuser was and kill them himself, but was surprised to find the reason mostly a selfish one. He just wanted to win Jimin over. Everyone needed a hero - maybe Jimin never got the chance to hope for one.

"How about a story for a story instead?" Jimin offered. "I'll share something about myself if you do the same."

"You're bargaining with me?" Jungkook laughed. Actually laughed. Not at Jimin, but just the forwardness of it. "You figured out I'm the Jeon Don within minutes of meeting me and then still want to bargain for information?"

"You can pull rank if you want. I can't say no if you do." Jimin said with a shrug. He didn't say it with any bitterness, but rather with a systematic understanding that caused Jungkook to shift uncomfortably.

"I'm not in the habit of forcing anything from any of my members." Jungkook explained and something like confusion flickered across Jimin's brow.

"A story for a story, right? You first." Jungkook said, "Who taught you how to handle knives?"

"My dad." Jimin said, looking at the throwing target with a fond expression. It was the first time Jungkook saw his eyes fill with warmth. "When I was a kid, he used to collect daggers from all over the world, trading with different collectors. When I was old enough, he gave me a small set of throwing knives, so I'd stop trying to take his expensive ones out of their cases. The knives was extremely blunt, but they were everything to me. We spent that summer throwing together in the backyard."

"Where is he now? Your dad?" Jungkook asked, knowing the answer from the longing in Jimin's voice.

"He died six years ago." Jimin said, looking back at Jungkook. The warmth was gone. "The people who he stole those knives from wanted them back."

Jungkook held Jimin's stare. Then, Jungkook smiled. "It's cool you can still connect with throwing after losing him. Most people would give it up." He said. Jungkook didn't need to say he was sorry for Jimin's loss, Jimin probably heard that a million times before from a million people who didn't mean it. Jimin blinked at Jungkook like he said something strange again.

"Why come to Seoul?" Jungkook asked, clearing his throat.

Jimin leaned against the table again. His fingers drummed against it. "There was nowhere else to go. I never met my mom and my grandparents wanted nothing to do with me once they found out their son was a criminal. There was a different gang I joined in Busan before coming here, but our runner recently got murdered and the entire gang got dismantled in a week. He was sort of like an Angel to everyone. When it came out that The Don did it, everything just fell apart. No one knew who to trust anymore."

"Why not join the Kims?" Jungkook asked. "I heard they absorb the lower members of the gangs that dismantle in Busan."

Jimin's frowned. "I couldn't stay in Busan. They liked the way I looked a little too much. So, I ran. The Kims own that entire city, Jungkook. There's nowhere to hide."

"I'm sorry." Jungkook said after a second. He looked at Jimin, at the quiet rage burning through him despite his calm posture; so angry that it translated into stillness. "I'm sorry they saw you were beautiful and then tried to weaponize you for it."

Jimin stopped drumming his fingers. "It's your turn, Jeon."

"Well, you've probably noticed that I'm too handsome and young to be a mob-boss." Jungkook started. When Jimin didn't respond, Jungkook awkwardly cleared his throat. "Alright, moving on. I guess you shared family, so I'll match."

Jimin raised his brows and Jungkook looked at him for a moment. How much was he willing to share with this stranger? Newcomers were so common Jungkook could barely keep up with their names and most were usually too intimidated to ask him anything about himself. Honestly, he couldn't remember when anyone outside of Yoongi or Seokjin had cared to. "Well, the story of my parents is a pretty famous one here. My mom and dad had this crazy Romeo-Juliet style romance between two major crime families. I used to idolize it as a kid. But she got sick six years ago and passed away. I guess around the same time your dad did."

"I'm sorry." Jimin said genuinely and Jungkook blinked. It was the first kind thing Jimin said that sounded like he meant.

"It was a fever too, which is what really made it hard." Jungkook said. "She was a real badass, you know. Everyone respected her. For something so common to kill her, I don't know. I still can't let myself think about it too much. But when she died, my dad really didn't take it well. He cut ties with the entire crime world. He's some big shot politician now. I show up to some of his events for appearances, but that's about as much contact as we have - damn I'm getting deeper than I expected." Jungkook said, laughing uncomfortably. "I was planning to just tell you I loved banana milk, but here I am spilling my whole history."

"You know, the best Don's are the ones who share their 'whole history' with strangers." Jimin said and a real smile spread across his lips. It lit up the boy's entire face and brought out the softness of his features. Jungkook filled with greed after seeing it, wanting to earn a laugh too. "I heard they're the smartest, too."

"Really? I haven't gotten to that unit at mob-boss school. I think that comes after we finish up numbers." Jungkook said. They stayed like that for a second, sharing a grin.

"It's an honor to work for you." Jimin said, breaking the warmth that started to thaw between them. He bowed a full ninety-degrees and then stayed down waiting for dismissal.

Jungkook blushed, flustered. "You can stand up. You really don't need to bow like that to me."

Jimin waited. Then slowly, oh so slowly, he started to rise. Each inch was cautious, like he was preparing for a hit to slam down from Jungkook at any moment. When Jungkook didn't make any sort of strike, a genuine confusion settled across Jimin's brows. He kept staring at Jungkook. His eyes darting, searching for a catch. Jungkook's own confusion splattered across his face and he shook his head as if to say 'there is no catch.'

Something shifted, then, in the way Jimin looked at him. Jungkook didn't feel small under his gaze, didn't feel underestimated or patronized. He felt seen, strangely. Like Jimin saw right past the gang boss in that moment and straight to the boy who had grown up too fast, taking over a whole community after just losing his mom, and was constantly terrified he'd screw up the responsibility of maintaining it.

"You're not what I expected." Jimin said, finally.

Jungkook cleared his throat. "I could say the same thing."

_________
A/N:
What do we think of JK? what's your first impressions of The Jeons?

Strawberry milk >>> banana milk. I'm sorry, someone had to say it

- Vio