The slumber cloaking Taehyung’s consciousness disintegrated piece by piece. 

A hushed, whiny hum burred in his throat as he stretched his limbs, but his movements rested at once. His right arm wasn’t on the bed like the rest of his body. It was laid on a firm yet smooth surface. Warm and kind of sticky, too. It was a surface of... muscles?

His eyes snapped open and met the ribs of a body a few inches away from his face. His somnolent brain worked fast, fumbling through the chaotic mess for memories of the previous night, and it soon struck him like a sobering tsunami. 

Jungkook.

It was embarrassing how he was latched onto his side like a koala, but for his good luck, Jungkook was still fast asleep.

He propped his crumpled left elbow on the bed and fixated his eyes on his sleeping, placid face. Shreds and blurred memories of the night before surged into his head like a turbulent cascade, and by the time most of the fragments were pieced together, he was left in a cesspool of shock and dread and frustration. 

He told him his real name. He never once used his real name the scanty times he slept with strangers. 

With the remembrance came self-blame and scolding, though another thought soon paused the mayhem in his head. 

I should leave before he wakes up.

With that, he withdrew his limbs from his frame and rolled on his back, but his mouth dropped open around a mute scream at the searing ache in his ass. The stab of pain was so intense it numbed him for a couple of seconds, and he truly strove to smother his whines. 

I hold no responsibility if you can’t walk tomorrow. He twisted to look at him with this thought and a muffled huff pushed out of his mouth. Yeah, you and your monstrous dick hold no responsibility. Sure. 

A moue of caustic mockery gleamed in his face, though it fizzled into blankness just seconds later with the melancholic, he could say, reminder that he had to leave. 

A part of him wanted to stay just so he could see his reaction. Maybe kiss him one more time, too. Once more now that he would know it would be the last time. Now that he would be prepared, so he could attend to every little detail of him, assimilate the glide of their lips and the entanglement of their tongues, savor his taste and the eruptive sensations it brought along, embed the feel of his hands roaming all over him in his head, capture the dulcet sound of his moans and gasps. 

It would bring a sort of closure he never imagined he would need...

No matter the itchy flutter of sullenness prickling around his belly, he scooted away and slithered out of bed. 

He breathed through the tremendous pain in his bottom as he limped his way around the bed in search of his boxers. The marble floor with the flower-decorated carpet surrounding the bed was a whirl of diffused clothes, wet wipes, and condoms, and that only hampered his task. He managed to locate the first coveted item and slipped it on before he, slowly and while wincing and hissing, mustered up the rest of his clothes. 

Fully dressed, he set his backpack on the edge of the bed, casting glimpses in Jungkook’s direction for no apparent reason, and reached for the bottle of lubricant, the wet wipes, and the empty pack of condoms that were forgotten on the huge mattress. But as he supported his weight on the bed, his backpack tumbled and crashed down the floor with a sharp thud and a jumble of little clinks and clonks by the items that spilled out. 

His face wore a mask of frustration and shock as his eyes flitted to Jungkook at once, catching him rolling to his side with a muted sigh. A few moments of stillness later, his cute, subtle snores undulated across the room, pulling a sound of absolute relief from him. 

With eyes seesawing between him and his scattered belongings, he rammed them in his backpack along with his ripped dress shirt, his hands quaking by the sudden speedup of his heartbeat. He put on his shoes, threw his coat over his shoulders and slid his arms through the sleeves in a fluid motion, snatched his backpack, and scurried to the door with silent steps. 

But he froze. As though something rooted him in his spot. 

The glint of eagerness in his gaze to leave, leave, leave dimmed to a dismal fog as he stared at the left low corner of the room as if contemplating something. 

And he was. And he crept around to carry that cogitation out. 

He stole closer to the asleep man, vacillation subtending each small step, and stood beside him, unmoving. He surveyed the tranquillity of his countenance and his beauty, also absorbing the steady, plodding fluctuations of his chest, and the corners of his mouth stretched with a glimmer of wistful appreciation. It sure was a night that will remain engraved in my memory, Jungkook. 

He tilted forward as though an invisible string tugged him closer, and his lips pressed against his forehead in a velvety kiss that lasted a bit more than he wanted. A bit more than it should. 

He unfurled his back and stepped towards the door, but weak fingers circled his wrist that paralyzed him throughout. The thumping of his heart rocketed again, so intense he could hear it growling in his ears, and he waited, restlessly waited for the sound of his voice to infiltrate his senses, for a pull on his hand that would yank him into his arms, for simply something to happen. 

But nothing did. 

The already frail hold loosened and skidded down his fingers until his hand plopped down onto the mattress. His eyes remained closed, his face still serene and blank. And the symphony of his subdued snores started again with no movement. 

He was still asleep. And Taehyung had to disappear for real now. 

So he did; he spun around and pattered to the door, taking with him only the memories and leaving Jungkook behind as it was supposed to. 

The walk to the elevator was ponderous. His legs, like his entire body, were so sore as if he had climbed a damn mountain. He hit the zero button once he got inside, and his eyes bulged as they landed on his appearance in the mirror.

His windswept hair was knotted, with spiky strands popping out and greasy forelocks drooping around his temples. His reddened eyes, cushioned by dark pouches, betrayed the lack of sleep and the wild night he had. His face was just withered and pale, lines of dried drool decorated his chin, and rowdy, carmine with a tinge of purple marks dotted his neck and collarbones as he could espy from his half open cardigan. 

God, I’m such a mess! He fumbled in his bag for the wet wipes and pulled one out to wipe his mouth and jaw. He stuffed it back into his backpack and focused on the terrifying mess that was his hair. He matted the unruly tufts and carded his fingers through them, saving little of the dishevelment. He resorted to putting the hood of his cardigan on, which he zipped all the way to obscure the whirlwind of hickeys, and buttoned his coat too. 

The moment the doors opened, he ducked his head and scuttled out of the motel, mentally crying at the pain in his ass. He felt his backpack vibrate when he exited the building and sighed as he slipped it off his shoulder. He rummaged through the clutter and untucked the hidden bottom of the bag to reach his prepaid, big button type phone. 

“Yeah?” 

“Where the hell are you?” 

He winced at the screeching voice of his best friend Jimin, whisking the phone away from his ear for a spell. “Why?” 

“Jin Mo’s looking for you. He has a new mission.” 

“Again? He just gave me another one two days ago!” he whisper-yelled, not wanting to be heard from the passersby, as he hurried towards his motorcycle. 

“Wow, I think it’s the first time I hear you complaining about taking on a new mission. But complaining about it to me won’t change anything.”

Taehyung sighed, feeling the cyclone of frustration fester inside him. “Does he want me there now?” 

“He wanted you here three hours ago. Do you even know what time it is?” 

“No.”

“It’s after four in the afternoon, Tae. What were you doing all day? And where are you?” 

“Just don’t ask. I’ll be there in an hour. But I need to take a shower before I see him.”

Jimin let a few seconds crawl by in silence. “Oh God, you’re covered in dried cum, aren’t you?” 

“Bye, Chim!” 

“Wait!” he released with a bark of a laugh, although he knew the situation was anything but funny. For Taehyung, at least. 

“What?”

“I want details.”

“Later. I need to drive now.” 

“Fine. I’ll wait for you.” 

“Bye.” He terminated the call after Jimin said his goodbye as well and placed the phone into his backpack at the secure spot he had created. 

He arrived at the remote location where he had parked his motorcycle several minutes later and wore his helmet and gloves before he started the engine and drove off. 

The ride was long, though it wasn’t boring. He relished in driving around with his motorcycle, despite that he hated the cold. The growling noise of the engine always aided in drowning out all the uproar in his head. 

Upon his arrival, he parked his vehicle in the VIP’s garage and trod to the entrance of the walls ringing the mansion. There was no intercom or something like a bell; the place was filled with cameras, and only if the system recognized the visitor it signaled the people working in the monitor room to let them enter. 

So Taehyung waited barely a couple of seconds before the large metallic door slid to the side enough to let him enter. He moved further inside on the granite path, passing from the enormous yard, and reached the door that was already open for him. 

He bowed his head to the people he met on his way to his room, and it took about four minutes to get to his final destination with his rapid gait. He expelled a sigh of relief as he opened the door since he didn’t encounter Ah In, who would definitely question him about his disappearance, and walked inside, shutting it right after and resting his head against it. 

“You.” 

He jumped at the voice, an alarmed sound of surprise flying off his mouth as he slapped a hand over his chest. “Fuck, Chim.” He leaned with his back against the door, taking a few moments to assuage his startle. 

Jimin rose to his feet, arms crossed over his chest and eyes scanning his appearance. “You look like shit.”

A snort of agreement escaped Taehyung as he shuffled closer, slipping the hood off his head. “Well, I feel like that too.”

“I thought you said you were heading home after your meeting with Sieun. Not for a wild sex night—wow,” he murmured as he tugged the collar of his coat along with his cardigan and detected a trail of hickeys on the left side of his neck. “He fucking devoured you.”

“I was heading home,” he gritted out as he smacked his hand away, lifting the collar of his coat again. “I was going to take my motorcycle when someone bumped into me.” 

“And?” 

“I need to take a shower, Chim. Jin Mo—” 

“He’s supervising the making process of his new drug. He’s busy for now, so tell me.” 

Taehyung gave him a look — an indecipherable one to Jimin’s eyes — and withered on the bed. “There’s nothing to say. I just met that guy, we went to a motel, and fucked.” 

“Yeah, but you always left after they fell asleep.” Jimin joined him on the bed, still finding his impenetrable countenance strange and a dram alarming. It was unlike him to have that look after a one-night stand. That look of gloom, as if he did something wrong. 

“We had a few rounds and I was too tired to even move.” 

“A few rounds like two? Three?” He registered the fleeting glance Taehyung shot him, and his brows sank low over his eyes in bewilderment. “Four?” he questioned in a high-pitched tone of surprise, and didn’t fail to notice how Taehyung avoided eye contact completely. “More!?” 

“I don’t remember!” he snapped, the flash of frustration that hardened his features melting back into nostalgic sulkiness. “But I’m sure I never had so many orgasms in one night before.” 

“Wow, he must have been so good then.” 

“Yeah. And big. My ass will hurt for fucking days.”

Jimin chortled, patting his shoulder in a sign of sympathy. “Was he pretty?” 

“Pretty?” he echoed with a quiet chuckle. A slew of words rushed into his head about that man, but none did justice to his beauty. So he chose the simplest one to describe him. “He was gorgeous.”

“What about his body?” 

“God, don’t remind me. His muscles were heavenly.”

“Did you leave your number?” 

The muscles in his face flinched as he jerked his head in his direction. “Why would I do that?” 

“Well, he was amazing in sex, gorgeous, built, big. He has everything you want. Why not meet him again?”

“It was just a one-night stand, Chim. And I already have so many things to do. I can’t do him regularly too.”

A giggle burst out of Jimin as he nudged his side. “Yeah, but I bet you want that.”

Taehyung smiled, eyes traveling away from him. “Maybe. If the circumstances were different—”

The door swung open then, and the sudden intrusion of their friend jolted them out of their seat. “What circumstances?” 

“Why don’t you knock first?” Taehyung murmured with an annoyed frown as he perched on the bed again. 

“I was in a hurry. I kinda ran away from Ah In because he was asking where you are again,” Yoongi explained as he sat next to Jimin. “It was funny listening to your conversation while saying to him that I don’t know where you are.”

“Jimin!”

“Shit,” the said man tittered as he slipped the wireless earpiece off and saw it was on this whole time. 

“Didn’t they tell him I came here?” 

“I don’t know. So what circumstances? That you’re working for a criminal?”

“Well, yeah. I already don’t have time for anything.” 

“You had time for a wild sex night, though, as Jimin said.”

“I didn’t plan it,” Taehyung grumbled, directing his scowl at Yoongi and then Jimin, who snickered, obviously joining the teasing. 

“What’s his name, by the way?” asked Jimin. 

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay. I can track him if you change your mind, though.”

“I won’t. Now, both of you out. I need to take a shower.” 

“Yeah, you definitely need to. You reek of sex,” Yoongi quipped with a mischievous grimace, evoking a groan from him. 

“I know,” he said through clenched teeth, not appreciating all the teasing in the slightest. “Go.”

The two then rose to their full height and exited the room, as Taehyung requested. 

A sigh pushed out of him as he shed his coat and flung off his shoes. He shuffled towards the closet and grabbed whatever he found first from the few pieces of clothes he had at the mansion. 

Once in the bathroom, he peeled off his clothes and stepped towards the shower, but he halted as he contemplated the glimpse of his appearance he caught in the mirror. His eyes anchored on himself and cruised over the marks adorning the once unmarred skin of his neck, rising a hurricane of memories in his head.

His stare swam down his body and landed on a harsh crimson mark on his thigh. His eyes closed insensibly as the image of that man fucking him with his fingers while sucking on his thigh slammed into his mind, a soft exhalation escaping his parted lips. 

When he unsealed his eyes after just a few seconds, he found his length half hard and slightly wet on the tip. Shit, I don’t have time for this. He discarded his need to pleasure himself and got into the shower with another shaky sigh. 

 
All dressed and ready, he trod out of his room and went downstairs to where Jin Mo’s office was located.

The sudden encounter with Ah In just before he reached his destination left him vexed and exasperated. That guy always interfered with everything, even if he wasn’t asked to do so. And everyone knew it wasn’t his job to interrogate the VIPs. That was for Jin Mo if he wanted to do it. Being the right hand of the boss definitely gave him the notion that he had ascendancy over them, but Taehyung, after becoming a VIP, never gave him the satisfaction of feeling preponderant when talking to him. 

He wasn’t even intimidated by Jin Mo. He wouldn’t be intimidated by a mere pawn.

After saying that it shouldn’t concern him where he was and he would talk with Jin Mo instead, he brushed past him and stood outside of the office. The door split in half with a whoosh a couple of moments later, and he sauntered inside until he carefully eased himself onto the couch. 

“Where were you all day?” Jin Mo approached him with a binder in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. He sipped his drink and set it on the table as he sat across from him, leaving the other item beside him. 

“I had some personal things to take care of.” 

Jin Mo’s brow quirked in a sneering sort of disapproval, though it dissolved with a subtle eye roll and a lightsome snort. “You’re lucky you’re my best. And my favorite, of course.” He squared an ankle over his left knee, his arm spreading over the back of the couch. “I’ll pretend I don’t see the nasty hickeys on your neck”—he smirked upon catching him hoisting the collar of his cardigan—“and move on to what I wanted you for. I have a new mission.”

“Jin Mo-ssi. I have five different ongoing missions already. And you gave me another one just two days ago. And it’s the most difficult and dangerous—” 

“Come on, Taetae,” he snickered. “Don’t bitch about it again. You know how it is.” 

“And you know I have the right to deny a mission. And I deny this new mission. I don’t have the time.”

The resolute timbre coiling Taehyung’s words chopped off his mirth and flattened his fleer into a disapproving scowl. “After how you screwed up with Jong Hoon, you don’t have the right to anything, Tae. At least not until you give me results.” 

An expression of utter shock flashed up onto Taehyung’s face in a heartbeat; his owlish eyes flooded with disbelief, his brows harshly drew together, and his mouth hung open, quivering as it tried to form words through his vexation. “I screwed up? Jay screwed up!”

“Yeah, but Jay is dead. You know that Jong Hoon is looking for you, right? I get tips every day that his men ask for you. What will happen if he finds you? Will you stick to your stupid rule of not killing anyone and let him kill you first?” 

An unexpected oppression tugged at his features, threatening to paint them with sadness at the ephemeral recollection of a conversation he once had with his father. “I’ll get away somehow. I always do.” 

“If you want to remain hidden, comply with whatever I give you. Don’t anger me.”

“Oh?” Taehyung’s shoulders shook with a flurry of chuckles. “Or what? You will give me to him to kill me?” 

“That would be a waste, wouldn’t it?” Jin Mo asked with a feigned sweetness that vanished when he spoke again. “But don’t test me, Taehyung.” 

Taehyung maintained the fierce eye contact, debating with himself to react against his warning or just shrug it off. To smack the arrogance off Jin Mo’s face or just change the subject and end their discussion as soon as possible. At last, he sighed and reclined in his seat. “Whatever. What’s the new mission?” 

“It’s easy, don’t worry. Kim Ki Han. Just a low-class drug dealer. But he begins to rule over Gangnam, a place I would like to take over. I need you to get into his circle of friends, hang out with him or whatever, and find out about his connections. Here’s his information.” He took hold of the binder and passed it over.

“That’s it?” Taehyung asked with a slight frown. 

“Yeah. Easy, right?” 

“Compared to what you gave me two days ago...” he grouched under his breath, his discontent about that mission still burning brightly within him. 

“You’ll do great!” Jin Mo chirped in a spurt of excitement. He reached for his drink and chugged it down in a single swig, sighing in relish just after. “How did the meeting with that bastard Sieun go?”

“Good. He’s warming up to me. But he’s strict about his business. He won’t let me get into his firearms business that easily.” 

“Did you ask and he said no?” 

“It’s too soon to ask. He’ll find it weird. We were talking about his drug laboratory and I asked him if he had anything else that interesting, but he didn’t even mention the firearms.” 

Jin Mo hummed, nodding lightly. “Do whatever to gain his trust and make him open up to you.” 

“I know. I will. Can I rest now? I need to study and organize that damn mission you gave me.”

“Yeah, okay. Go.” He dismissed him with a wave of his hand, and Taehyung bowed his head as he heaved himself to his feet and trudged towards the exit. 

🥀

As if a switch in his mind was flipped, Jungkook went from sleeping to having full awareness in a split second. He rolled to his back as he spread his huddled-up limbs, his chest arching in a satisfying stretch. 

The next switch that was magically flipped brought him scraps of the previous night and the vivid image of the gorgeous man he met. “Taehyung?” The name fell from his lips unwittingly as he jolted to a sitting position, his eyes scoping the empty spot on the bed beside him and then wandering around the room. 

What’s wrong with me? He glided his fingers over his forehead and down the edges of his eyes with calming pressure. It was just another one-night stand. Why am I looking for him? He snorted at his thoughts as he shook his head, unable to apprehend himself and the lightly gloomy tautness in his chest. 

Should I take a shower? What time is it? His vision launched another round of scrutiny in search of a clock and soon landed on a box-shaped clock on the nightstand. Shit. Fuck, I’m so screwed. 

The time displayed was six o'clock, and even though he grabbed it, brought it closer in case his sight was playing tricks on him, shook it, and even smacked it twice, the hour hand was still stuck at six. And he was indeed screwed. For good. 

Fuck, I’ll never hear the end of it. His impending doom punched a long sigh out of him, fingers meshing into his locks and tugging hard. 

After a moment’s internal turmoil and frustration, he flopped down on his belly and sought for his boxers with an exploratory glance. Finding nothing, he tossed himself to the other side and slid further down the mattress to peek underneath the bed. He detected his target on the front side, though a bizarre item under the bed stole his full attention and warped his face in a puzzled frown. 

He splayed his arm as far as he could, his head brushing against the floor and fingertips grazing the item. He pushed his hand a notch further then, but his balance abandoned him, leading him to slip and collapse onto the floor with a groan. He overlooked the pain in his back by the impact as his curiosity to identify that object reigned over him and reached out again, successfully getting hold of the item. 

He inspected the palm-sized, black and metallic cube and fixated on the burgundy drawing on the top, poring over the half circle and the large dot in the center, the upside-down cross, and the ragged lines at the sides. What the hell is this? Did Taehyung drop this? 

His ears pricked up at the vibration of his phone, and he hunted for the sound until he pinpointed it in the pocket of his thrown jacket. He gazed at the name of his partner on the screen, but he made no movement to answer the call. He unlocked his phone once the call ended and found thirty-five missed calls and fifteen messages from his squad, his father, and his mother that awakened anew the exasperating eddy of his imminent doom. 

He texted Namjoon that he would be there in a couple of hours and also let his mother know that he was okay with a short text. He dumped his phone and that peculiar cube onto the bed and tidied up the room, not wanting the cleaner to find a bunch of condoms scattered around. 

He took a shower, and although he still felt like a wreck after such an intense and exacting night, he found a fragment of revitalization in it. He wore his clothes, collected his belongings, not forgetting to take the cube too, spent a while to find where he had thrown the card key, and once he found it, he bundled off. 

He arrived at the reception quickly and met an unfamiliar, much more friendly girl behind the counter. He checked out and soon was on his way to his motorcycle. And to a maelstrom of nagging and yelling and scolding. 

The fact that he expected it didn’t make the admonishment of his father any easier to take in. And combined with his mother’s hysterically worried reaction was a sheer nightmare. But what affected him the most and shattered him was the look of disappointment his Namjoon hyung gave him. It would be better to get angry and holler at him, but Namjoon just waved him off without a word when he attempted to explain himself. 

Despite that, he missed nothing important, thankfully. And he made up for the hours of work he missed by staying there until late at night as he usually did, anyway. He didn’t have a reason to return to his house. Not anymore, at least. 

. . .

Sitting at the empty office after midnight, reclined in his seat and with arms crossed over his chest, he stared at the cube he had placed on his desk, intently inspecting it. 

He wasn’t sure for how long he stayed there unmoving before he heard a door opening and soon sensed a presence near him. 

“What’s that?” Seokjin asked. 

Jungkook drew his gaze away from the item, only to see his entire squad take their seats. “Why are you guys still here?” 

“Why are you, detective Jeon?” Seung Ho quietly asked. 

Jungkook lowered his eyes to the cube again. “Because I screwed up.”

“You know that at least,” Namjoon sighed. “You can’t disappear like that.”

Despite the mild scolding, the tiniest of smiles bloomed on Jungkook’s face because Namjoon finally talked to him. “I know.”

“No, you don’t.” Something harsh crept into Namjoon’s voice this time. “We had no idea where you were for hours, Jungkook. You’ve never disappeared like that before. Even when you didn’t spend the night at your house.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“Of course you won’t, because the next time I’ll personally talk to the chief and push him to fire you.”

Namjoon wasn’t joking, and he was sorely aware of it. But he also knew he didn’t say that because he was mad. He said that because he was worried. “I just forgot to set an alarm. Do you want to put a tracking program on my phone so you won’t get worried?”

Namjoon huffed as he perceived the subtle irony in his words. “It’s not funny, Jungkook. You deal with criminals. What if someone had ambushed you and—” 

“Fine, fine. I get it. I won’t do it again. Now, help me find out what this is.” He nodded his chin to the cube on his desk. 

“Where did you find it?” Seokjin questioned as he took a closer look. 

“My one-night stand dropped it in our room.” 

“Oh, please say more,” Hoseok cut in with a sly smile. “That’s why you disappeared? Where are the details?” 

“You should get your own sex life and stop caring about mine, hyung.”

“I wish I had one. But I don’t like the idea of having sex with strangers. I want feelings. I want to have a connection with that person.”

“Can’t relate,” Jungkook breathed out. 

“Yeah, yeah, but you can’t do this for the rest of your life, Jungkookie. You have to find someone too. When will you fall in love?”

He fixed an idle look on Hoseok, threaded with disapproval. “I can’t even fall asleep, hyung.”

Seung Ho chortled, his lips pulling inwards in his effort to confine it, and a full-throated chuckle followed by Seokjin. “You’re a dork,” the latter released between his laugh. “As for the cube, I can take a photo and search it on my programs. Maybe I’ll find something this way because I’ve never seen this pattern before.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jungkook said, his chest falling with another deep exhalation as his curiosity about that bizarre item sparked more and more by the minute. 

───⭒───༺🌑༻───⭒───

And the storyline begins!