Everybody wants to rule the world

“I’d kill everyone for you, Tae.”

“Even yourself, Jeon?”
Taehyung was born at noon, 2 kilos weight, too skinny for a
new born but the nurse assured his mother that the baby was
okay since she gave him birth a month earlier than the
expected date.

Kim Taehyung was so eager to come to this world. As early

as possible. Which gave his health some complications in
form of a weak heart. Ironic, considering how strong the boy’s
soul was. After his birth, came a long period of hospital visits,
heavy surgeries and even heavier tears of a mother that had to
watch her baby fight between life and death. He was too small
to already taste the ugly side of life.

But Kim Taehyung was a fighter. And he survived. The

doctors prescribed him a lot of pills, weekly visits to the
hospital for a check-up and new medication, and a warm and
happy environment at home. Because his heart was too weak
to allow him to be sad.

And everything should’ve gone according to his mother’s

plans. A happy family in a happy household to make her baby
happy. But her husband didn’t quite agree with how the things
were going. He was far too tired and exhausted of constantly
worrying what he says, what he does for his child was too
fucking fragile. There was no place for weak in this world. He
didn’t sign up for the trouble when he married the rich
daughter of The Kim Family expecting a posh life filled with
vacations and not a worry in it. He got an always sad woman
instead, with her face ugly by the constant tears and whiny
voice not to do that and that for her child could get hurt. So,
he left. And the woman was devastated because not only the
father of her child left but also the love of her life.

But she had to bury deep her heartbreak while wearing a fake
smile because her baby couldn’t get sad. And because now the
baby was the only love in her sad life. She knew she couldn’t
lose him. Not her baby. The woman isolated him from the
outside world, because if he didn’t know anything except her,
he wouldn’t leave her for other things. His mother soon went
mad. Because one must go insane to stay sane.

Kim Taehyung watched all his childhood his mother

drowning her sorrows in alcohol at nights when she thought
he was sleeping. He watched her cry herself till the morning
sun lightened their windows always covered with thick large
curtains. Then she would wash her face and put the fake smile
on her pretty face, welcoming him with her warm arms.

And they were all wrong because Kim Taehyung was by far
one of the strongest spirits in the world and one of the purest,
most innocent, his mother adored that in him. All his
childhood, he took care of her as if she was the one with the
illness. He cooked and brought her food in bed, washed the
clothes, cleaned the house, did all the chores there were to do.
They didn’t have a maid since his mother thought that the
worker could hurt her precious child. She couldn’t risk it. She
made him home-schooled and rarely let him wander outside
the house. People were dangerous, they loved to abuse the
weak to feel strong. What if someone in the street would say
something wrong or do something that could hurt her baby’s
heart? Later in life, the woman realised that she was the one
that hurt him the most.

But Taehyung didn’t mind. He didn’t mind living between

four walls and having the same view every morning,
afternoon and night. He had everything he needed: an art
room, a pool, a garden outside the house, a telescope and his
mother. What his weak heart could desire more when he
didn’t like people in general. Only his mother. His rich
grandparents from Seoul never visited them, he didn’t had
friends but who needed all of this anyway. His mother was
enough.

Till one moment, it stopped being enough. Taehyung could

clearly say the date he died. His 16th birthday when his mother
overdosed with alcohol and was transported to the hospital.
He stayed home since the woman didn’t allow him to step
foot out of the house under any circumstance. His hands were
shaking and he was sobbing uncontrollably because his
mother didn’t look good at all. And his weak heart was
hurting too till the point he felt a sharp pain in his chest.
Taehyung looked for a phone but the ocean of tears in his eyes
stopped his vision from spotting something that could help
him. He started running outside to call for help. Because he
could die and in the moment his mother’s rules seemed
pointless.

But Taehyung should’ve known better than this. After all, his
mother was always right. The moment he stepped outside the
house in the cold night crying for help, he saw the shadows
approaching him till he felt something sharp hitting his head.
Before darkness welcomed him, he heard quiet voices
whispering between each other:
“Jeon said to bring him alive, understood?”

And then he closed his eyes. At least the pain went away.

Taehyung woke up. Weirdly, he didn’t remember falling

asleep. He rarely slept more than 4 hours per night, his
mother’s sobbing keeping his mind awake. A sharp pain hit
his head and the boy forced his eyes to wander around his
surroundings. He expected his mother to come to him any
moment now with her fake but warm smile and her hugs. But
then the memories hit his head. Everything. His mother’s
unconscious body laying on the floor, a white substance
dripping from her mouth, the doctors rushing her to the
hospital, his heart killing him slowly, him breaking his
mother’s rules, stepping outside the house, the shadows, the
hit and blackness after.

He was kidnapped. The current place he was in smelled of

gas, burnt meat and death. Quite the combination. It was dark
inside, but Taehyung was used to the lack of light in his room,
since his mother isolated their house with thick curtains from
the curious eyes of their neighbours.

The boy traced his fingers on the scar on his head, prints of
blood dripping on them. His head hurt like a bitch, but at least
his heart didn’t. After some minutes of trying to find
something to wrap his head with and stop the bleeding (trying
to escape was pointless, really), steps were heard in the
distance and then the door was opened.

“Stupid boy came into our hands himself, in our trap. Boss
worried that we won’t be able to drag him outside since his
psychotic mother put chips and cameras in every corner of the
house.”

“It was one of the easiest tasks, these rich people are so weird,
fucking hypocrites.”
The voices were rough and sounded cruel. Too judgemental.
The light of the room then was turned on and there in the
centre stood two bulky men with a dragon tattooed on their
hands. They smiled creepily at him. Taehyung wanted to tell
them how ugly they were when they smiled like that. But
realised it wasn’t the best idea at the moment.

“Look how everything will happen. You stay quiet till our
boss comes here. Then he hands you the phone, you start to
cry and tell your mother how scared you are, she sends the
money because let’s be honest, you’re loaded, not a big loss,
and then you’re out like this day never happened in your life,
understood?”
Taehyung nodded. Money weren’t a big problem for them.
They were really loaded. This wet room with no medication
and pills for his heart was a problem. He couldn’t wait to get
out of here in his mother’s arms.

And everything should’ve gone according to the plan only if

Life wasn’t a bitch who fed on pain, suffering and tears. Life
loved to fuck our life and then laugh at us. Why then Death
gets the hate and is considered the bad side of a coin? Death
was so much kinder.
The doors to the room opened with a loud thud, a young man
with a small scar on his face entering it like he owned it.
Taehyung was sure he didn’t.

“Leave us for some minutes.” The young man looked sharply

at the other two, dismissing them with his index finger where
a dragon wrapped on a ring stood proudly as if smirking.
“But the Boss would come soon.” The first man spoke quietly
as if scared that the next moment a bullet would go through
his head.

“The Boss told us not to kill him, he didn’t tell us about other
things.” The man smirked. “Heard the boy never stepped foot
outside his house before, missed so many thrilling things. I
want to show him the real pleasure of life.” He growled at the
end not letting place for discussion.

And the men understood what was going to happen in that

room. They left it like the cowards they were. First minute
they heard screaming. Then, crying, loud sobs and then
nothing. Complete silence. After a couple of minutes, the
young man left the room with an ugly smirk on his face,
zipping his pants pleased of what he just did.

He killed Kim Taehyung. His soul. In the worst way someone

could. Now not only his heart was weak, his soul was too.

Taehyung felt so dirty. He didn’t mind the blood coming from

his back and head, the pain between his legs, the mess of
clothes on the floor. He felt dirty inside. So messy. His mother
will hate him was all he could think about. Her precious pure
baby wasn’t pure anymore. His mother will hate him. He
wanted to skin himself alive. His mother will hate him
because she warned him that monsters were real and he never
listened. The monsters who had a beating heart and a human
face and they bit worse than the Devil. His mother would hate
him because he is not the pure soul, her innocent baby
anymore, she won’t hug him and smile at him and stay by his
side when he’s painting. Kim Taehyung never felt such a
sharp pain in his heart. It felt like it was breaking in the literal
sense of the word, in small pieces, blood dripping like a
rainfall in his insides. He felt like dying.

And then Taehyung wondered how his mother was doing.

Was she alright? He already felt dead but his mother didn’t
deserve anything bad to happen to her. His train of worries
and shock and pain was stopped by a tall man in a black suit
that entered the room quietly, with silent but firm steps. Too
confident. This was the Boss. Jeon was his name. He
remembered. The man lowered his head to look Taehyung in
the eyes.

“That bastard can’t keep his dick in his pants. Stupid fucker.
Oh, you, poor boy.” The man took a heavy breath, and
continued with a soft voice “In another parallel universe, I
would cry for your pain, but here there’s no place for pity and
worry here. You either hunt or let yourself being hunted.
What are you, Kim Taehyung, the hunter or the prey?”
The boy didn’t answer, because he was neither of them. He
was just nothing.

“We’ll see, Taehyung, we’ll see. Now stand up. Your

grandparents paid the money without even waiting to hear
your voice and they did other very useful thing too. They must
love you truly.”

Taehyung was dragged in a car outside the building and then

after an hour drive thrown to the ground near an abandoned
street.

“You’re free boy. Remember my question, Kim Taehyung,

the hunter or the prey.” Jeon Yong winked at him and then in
a span of seconds his car was out of his sight.

“You’re free.” What a joke. Taehyung felt more trapped than

ever.

A week after he was released, his mother committed suicide.

She couldn’t bear the pain of seeing her son broken. It was too
much. So many years in constant pain. Her parents talked with
her before that and opened her eyes to the reality where she
was the person that hurt her son the most. She was the reason
her baby lost his innocence, his light, his smile. She ended her
life in a warm Tuesday afternoon in her hospital room. When
Taehyung came to visit her, she was on the floor, blood
dripping from her cut wrists, her pretty face drained of colour
and life.
That was Kim Taehyung’s second death. The third one.

His grandparents took him to Seoul, to their house, showered

him in gifts and love and affection. But it couldn’t erase the
dark that settled in the boy. He wondered how much his weak
heart could take till it’d give up.
And Taehyung decided to find out. He started doing drugs,
fight on the street, let himself being beaten, sleep near trash
bins. So much pain. He loved it. The pain in his body made
the pain in his heart go away. His grandparents let him be, it
wasn’t much they could do.

Taehyung was a lost boy.

Until one day.

He went to his room to take a pair of new clothes when his
eyes caught the box on the bed he rarely slept on. Inside the
box there were photos, a lot of photos of his mother, from her
childhood till she grew up, photos of her smiling, not the fake
smile. Underneath them, there were paintings. So beautiful.
His mom painted once. It was too much.

All the pain and heartbreak that he tried to bury through other
way of pain came all at once to him. His heart started hurting
too. His precious mother that suffered because of him.
Taehyung ran outside. He ran and ran and ran till he reached
his old personal hideout in the ugly side of the Seoul in an
abandoned building. It fitted him because he was ugly. Inside
he found the gun under the pile of boxes of pizza.

It hurt so much that the only solution to make it stop was the
bullet. First time he died was when the bastard took his
innocence, the second time was his mother leaving him. The
third one and the last he’ll do by himself.

Taehyung raised the gun, pointing it at his head and he was

ready to do it, to leave this unfair, fucking ugly world. But
then a commotion was heard outside, and then two voices
whispering.

“I swear, Hobi, one day this extra passion of yours will kill us
both.”

“Tsss, you’ll disturb the ghosts and they’ll become angry and
then we’ll surely die. Because of you.”

Then the voices stopped and two boys was staring with their
mouths open at him.

“Yoongi, do you think this is a ghost?”

The smaller boy that had his green mint hair tied in a bandana
rolled his eyes frustrated and kicked the other boy’s head.
Then he turned to Taehyung and his eyes softened.

“Hey, boy, can you please lower your gun, my boyfriend here
is scared of guns, he throws up every time he sees them.”

“What…” Hobi didn’t finish his question when another hit

was landed on his head.
And Taehyung was amused. Out of curiosity, he lowered the
gun. He had plenty of time to kill himself.
“Can you please tell us what happened?”

Taehyung shook his head.

“That’s not how you ask, you idiot. Let me show you how it’s
done. Tell what troubles you and we’ll let you have a
threesome with us. You can’t say no to two such hot and
beautiful boys as us.”

And Yoongi completely lost it. He sat on the floor while

cursing his boyfriend with not so good words. Taehyung on
the other side laughed so hard. He almost chocked.
And because Taehyung didn’t have anything to lose, seeing as
he’d be gone in an hour or so, and the fact that he waited so
long to pour his broken heart to someone, to clear out his
damaged mind, everything that’s stuck inside there, he told
them.

Absolutely everything. And the boys listened. At some point

Hobi started crying, Yoongi lost all the colour from his face.
When Taehyung finished his storytelling, the boys jumped on
him, hugging him tight. It was a weird feeling since no one
except his mother ever hugged him. But it was warm. He
didn’t feel warm for a long time.

“You have such a strong heart, Kim Taehyung.” Yoongi

whispered, face buried in his neck while still hugging him.

“I understand you, Taehyung.” Hobi spoke calmly “But I

think that you giving up and letting Life has its way, is not
smart. They tried to break you. But you survived for so long.
Everything worse that could happen already happened to you.
You got nothing to fear or to lose. But still good things can
happen to you. You still have unsolved things in this world.
The bastard that raped you, he needs his punishment and you
said Jeon asked you what you are a prey or a hunter”

“Show him that you’re a hunter now and that he’s your prey.”
Yoongi finished.

And Taehyung sat there staring dumbly at the boys.

His mother deserved to be fight for. His beautiful, kind
mother who died because of some greedy bastards that wanted
to rule this world at the expense of others. And he deserved to
be fight for too. His weak heart that endured so much. His
precious heart that he made it suffer too. And what if revenge
was the only thing to live for. At least, he’ll be living, seeing
the sun another day.
Taehyung smiled for the first time since his mother’s death.
Yoongi and Hobi promised to stay by his side along the way.
They had nothing better to do anyways, traveling through the
country without a specific purpose. They needed him to. And
they kept their promise.

Now 3 years after that day, Taehyung stares focused at the

threads on his board, threads that were tied between photos of
men. It looked like the board of a police investigation. Yoongi
and Hobi kept bickering in the background. Taehyung turned
to them both smiling.

“So, are you ready to take over the world?”

That caught their attention and the boys came to him, back
hugging the boy.

Taehyung raised his finger to a photo in the centre of it all. It

was taken by Hobi of a young man dressed in a red leather
jacket exiting a company building, followed by 5 men in
black suits behind him.

“You, Jeon Jungkook, are our salvation and your father’s

damnation. Let the hunt begin.”

Taehyung started healing his broken heart slowly the past 3

years because he had a purpose again. Firstly, he visited the
doctors and began taking the medication again. They said his
heart was really something else, resisting all the poison that
was thrown at it: the shock, hurt, drugs, fights, endless
sleeping nights. He promised he would take care of it and
assure it won’t be hurt again. The heart that his mother
cherished the most in her life. How could he hurt something
that was so dear to his mother? He must protect.

Then, he enrolled in an art program with courses at nights in a

special facility for mental disordered teens, feeling his mother
closer with every touch of the brush on the paper. It was
healing. There he visited weekly a therapist, an old woman
who smoke too much, her room always smelling of burnt
tobacco with a sip of strawberries flavour in the air. At their
first meeting, Taehyung told her that he adored strawberries,
his mother loved them too, and the woman brought a pot of
strawberries planted in it. He appreciated her willingness to
share his world, not only to invade it with tiring questions.
The therapy sessions didn’t completely treat his mind, but it
was refreshing, helped him organize and clean his inner world
a bit, because it was chaos and his mother taught him that he
should always be clean. He spent a lot of time with Yoongi
and Hobi, travelling for almost an year in Europe, visiting
museums and galleries. There was only one thing that didn’t
let him move from all the atrocities from the past and that was
the face of the Devil that thought himself as a God allowed to
take the innocence of his body and soul. It took them 3
months to find the bastard, Yoongi taught him how to handle
a gun, his vast knowledge coming from his childhood, his
father being part of the military force and teaching young
Yoongi everything there is about guns and knives. His father
was killed by the higher ups because he knew too much and
wasn’t willing to bow down even though the next days the
newspapers announced that the remarkable army officer who
defended the nation in its most difficult times died defeated in
the war by their enemies. Hobi, on the other hand, provided
him with techniques of calming his heart and mind and his
shaking hands in stressful situations, he told Taehyung he
lived all his childhood in an orphanage, not knowing anything
about his parents. There he learned from a kind teacher the
golden ways of meditation and other budhist techniques she
was taught by her grandmother, sharing her knowledge with a
young Hobi.

Taehyung’s last step in healing himself happened in a

Tuesday afternoon, the bastard was visiting a club from the
dark side of Seoul, known for its illegal life filled with drugs,
prostitution and traffic of persons. Taehyung was on the last
floor in the opposite abandoned building. A radio tuning a
classic piano melody while he rubbed with a soft napkin the
Russian Orsis T-5000 sniper rifle. The rifle’s bolt was
distinguished by longitudinal sliding, it was rotary and
confidently locked onto two combat stops in front. The barrel
was made of stainless steel, the rifling was created using
tapestry planning technology. It felt airy in his hands. He
chose it himself. Yoongi said he had a born talent for guns,
both at aiming and at dealing with its theory from
disassembling in a short span of time to assembling it back.
Taehyung saw a gun as a piece of art, so naturally he was
talented at it too. The moment Yoongi gave a go in the
microphone in his ear, he placed his hand gently on the gun
and took his position at the window. First thing he saw was
the ring with a dragon etched on it, then the face with a scar
on it he was seeing in his nightmares for months. The man
that raped him was exiting the club with two young girls in
both of his arms, grinning at something they were whispering
giggling in his ear. Breathing 3 times as Hobi taught him,
Taehyung counted to 3, aimed at the man that ruined him once
and shot. Two times. After seeing that he was done with it, the
man crying in pain as the girls ran from him scared of the
attack that just happened, Taehyung quickly exited the
building. The bodyguards rushed to the man’s side, but it was
too late. Taehyung shot the man directly in the spine, two
times to be sure the purpose of the bullet would be fulfilled.
And it was, the bullets hit him in the spinal column T10
(thoracic vertebra). It’ll leave him paralyzed from the waist
down, wishfully for the rest of his miserable life. Taehyung
left the building, smiling to himself proudly acoompanied by
screams of excitement from Hobi and Yoongi in his ear, his
heart relieved of the revenge done in the Tuesday afternoon,
the same day as his mother died. It’d be 1 year from her death.
And that was Taehyung’s gift for her.

Now Taehyung felt clean, pure. Weirdly, but a sin was the
only thing that could make him look holy in his mother’s eyes
again.

His smiled didn’t disappear from his face for a long time that
day. They celebrated with wine and a lot of Mexican food and
laughter.

Taehyung was happy. Now, that he healed and passed all the
steps, he needed to plan the grand Scheme. It was from his
grandparents that he found out what was the other thing Jeon
requested from them beside money as ramson when he was
kidnapped. All the shares his mother had in the Tech
Company, the biggest branch and factory of phones and other
digital technologies in Seoul. The company that his mother
rightfully owned was signed under the disgusting and ugly
name of Jeons. After 2 years his grandparents died in a car
accident and Taehyung knew that that wasn’t a coincidence
either. They weren’t too close, but it hurt the same. Jeon took
too much from him. It was time to take what was his back. It
was time to take his mother’s company back, to take over the
world. And Jeon Jungkook would be the key in his grand
scheme of plans.
Step 1 in the plan: Befriend the enemy

Two years since Taehyung killed the bastard that abused him
passed quickly, full of research, spying, training, drafts with
schemes, shooting at ungodly hours to clear his mind, but
Taehyung was finally done with the plan together with
Yoongi and Hobi. Every chess piece was placed on the
chessboard, each of the minions in this game occupying their
positions as Taehyung wanted. Now was the time to attack.

Taehyung started studying the files on his table one more

time, his friends keeping bickering in the other room, arguing
about Hobi’s new kink that Yoongi wasn’t so excited about.
Taehyung heard something about bondage and handcuffs and
it was enough for him to understand that he didn’t want to
take part in the discussion. Taehyung turned his attention to
the files and looked at the photo on the first page, the boy in it
was beautiful, his face looked like a water painting, one of his
favourite style of art, sharp jaw with bright eyes that merely
seem to hold universes in them, prominent eyebrows with
double eyelids, blessed with moles on his lower lip and a
small scar on his cheek, dark black hair raven like, Jeon
Jungkook looked ethereal. And Taehyung was an artist,
enemy or not, he could appreciate one’s beauty. They studied
him for 2 years since Hobi found out that the only thing old
Jeon cherished and loved more than his empire was his only
son. And from there, Taehyung got the perfect plan, the Boss
would taste his own medicine.

The boy was startled when a pair of arms were thrown on his
back. Hobi will jump to hug him every opportunity he got. He
said Taehyung was soft to hug. Yoongi followed shortly after,
laying on the couch opposite his desk.

“Taehyung, tell Yoongi that bondage would be an upgrade for

our relationship.” Hobi started pouting cutely expecting a
reaction from the younger. But Taehyung was busy ogling the
photo on the file, ignoring other’s intense stare. Yoongi on the
other hand eyed the desk in front of him and a frown settled
on his too pretty face.

“I know all of your darkest secrets, kid, but I’ll never

understand why do you cut fresh strawberries in the
strawberry flavoured ice cream already filled with pieces of
fucking strawberries?”

“Strawberries can never be enough, Yoongi.”

The older scoffed and looked at the files in his hands.

“So, we’re doing it tomorrow. But there’s still one step we

forgot to do. Hobi?”
Yoongi spoke seriously hiding a grin behind the stoic face.
The devil knew what he was doing. Hobi suddenly jolted out
of the embrace, leaving the room with exciting screams.
Seconds later, he returned with a blue hair dye in his hands,
face lighten by the excitement. To destroy his hair.
Taehyung wanted to punch Yoongi for the bastard knew that
if Hobi was setting his mind on something, he’d never give up
on that and he was exactly the one suggesting his boyfriend to
dye Taehyung’s hair. It was probably a revenge for all the
times he laughed and enjoyed all the times Yoongi suffered
upon Hobi’s new ideas.

Blue. They wanted his hair to be blue. Like their fucking wall
in their house.

“Taehyung” Hobi tried “Every colour will look hot on you.

But blue is the favourite colour of our target, he is weak for
girls and boys with blue hair, so don’t whine. It’s for our plan.
You’ll look hot as always, okay?” And he winked, earning a
hit on the elbow from his boyfriend who had his eyebrows
furrowed in a grimace.

“Every day I must live with the fear of you leaving me for
Taehyung.”

Hobi smiled sweetly at his boyfriend.

“If Taehyung would already stop making me run after him
and accept my courting, then…”

And before they could start arguing again, Taehyung took the
hair dye and nodded his head at the boys.

Their little gang’s location was still in the old building they first time met. Just a little
upgraded. There were no more scratches on the walls that were now coloured in a warm blue,
paintings and different pieces of minimalistic art displayed on them. Hobi insisted on
designing his room in a rainbow set of colours, he was their sunshine after all, all his
computers and other technologies being the only dark coloured ones in his bright room.

Yoongi was other deal. The boy kept a whole wall just for his special collection of guns and
knives, the rest of the place being occupied by a huge king-sized bed because the boy was
asleep more than he was awake, and his tattoo designs.

And Taehyung. Well. His room was dull. Just like him. No special colour on the walls except
a wet pastel brown Hobi suggested him, a small couch in the corner, since he still had trouble
sleeping, being able to count on his fingers the nights he slept well. The other corner was
dedicated to his painting for when the nightmares came to him, it was the only release that
helped him. It was Yoongi’s idea to continue painting. Taehyung found out that doing what
he loved and what the closest person to him adored too lessened the pain his weak heart
endured so often. Art was one thing that made him happy. Yoongi and Hobi were the other
part. It was almost enough. Almost.

Except the nights, when he felt so cold, so alone, when the memories hit his mind and he
missed his mother the most. His mom always wanted him to grow his hair so she could walk
her fingers through it. Now, he had it long, but he didn’t have anyone to trail their hands
through his hair. No one to protect him like his mother did. In times like this, Taehyung will
paint, or will go to sleep with Hobi. And it didn’t hurt so much anymore.
“Your strawberry lipstick?”

“Checked.”
“Your heart pills?”

“Checked.”

“Your gun?”

“Checked?”

“My ring on your finger?”

“Checked… wait what?” Hobi laughed upon seeing the confused face of Kim Taehyung. And
when the boy took in the joke too, they start both laughing, easing the tension and nerves a
bit.

“You’re nervous like you’re a teen going on his first date.”

“Wait till I tell on you to Yoongi, you and your silly pick up lines, you’ll see what a nervous
boy is.”

Yoongi was at the moment at the tattoo parlor and Taehyung should’ve been there too soon.
He looked one more time in the mirror. His blue hair really looked good just like Hobi said.
He mixed for today’s meeting a soft blue texture jacket with a silk button up and a pair of
solid black jeans. His black choker and his shirt’s plunging neckline added just enough
sexiness to an otherwise simple outfit. He went for something hot but at the same time that
had an innocent air to it. Jeon Jungkook loved exactly this ungodly combination of enough
angel and devil in it.

Hobi kissed both his cheeks.

“You’ll do great, okay, just be yourself, it’s impossible not to fall for you, remember
everything you learned. It’ll be your first meeting, you won’t even talk to him, just to catch
his attention, yeah?”

The tattoo parlor was the best one in the Seoul, located in the centre of the city. Jeon
Jungkook won’t visit what’s not the best. Entering the building, he was greeted by a mix of
smoke and cleaning products in the sterile air. The walls were painted in designs. It looked
beautiful, the kind of heaven that Taehyung would be in, art was displayed everywhere.
Taehyung felt content in a place like this. He got closer to the reception, remembering the
plan. Jungkook was supposed to be tattooed by Yoongi at the moment. He’ll leave this place
any moment now. All Taehyung needed to do was trip over him or pour something on him.
Everything that will catch the attention of the rich bastard. Yoongi started working at this
parlour half a year ago just for the purpose of spying and getting information from the boy
that visited the parlour every month to get something new on his skin. Upon liking Yoongi’s
designs, he became his loyal client. After 3 months, they spoke for the first time. They didn’t
exchange a lot of words, but it still was useful for their plan. Yoongi told him that it was a
mix of speaking with someone you both are afraid and both adore at the same time, a voice
that could warm you, but also freeze you at the same moment. Jeon Jungkook had a special
voice just like how he was. And Taehyung didn’t understand what the hell Yoongi was
talking about. But he was going to find out in some minutes.

Taehyung’s attention was caught by a design of a strawberry in a small corner of the entrance
room. A glowing red followed by two leaves of a green mint and a black needle that surges
through the middle. It was beautiful, absolutely captivating. And he stared at it for minutes
without blinking. He already imagined the draft in his mind and how he’ll try to copy it at
home, adding more colour and some shadows.

“Want me to tattoo the strawberry on you?” He heard a cold but soft voice behind him.
Probably some assistant.

Holding a dismissive finger, Taehyung shook his head and continued to admire the
strawberry tattoo. Maybe he could actually ask Yoongi to tattoo the design on his chest.

It would be meaningful for his first tattoo. It would look beautiful on his collarbone.

“It would especially look good on your collarbone.” The assistant said and that caught his
attention. He turned to the person who spoke and for a moment his eyes seemed to freeze
upon seeing the familiar doe eyes that he stared at for months in his office, on his files. There
wasn’t any assistant behind him. Only Jeon Jungkook smiling softly at him. What the fuck.
The boy in front of him looked cute and gentle and delicate. Not what he expected. Nor he
tasted the scary and dominant voice Yoongi was talking about. However, there was no time
for panicking. He smiled himself in return, trying not to cringe at the action.

“I already have my personal tattoo artist but I am grateful for your proposal.” It wasn’t
suspicious. It sounded natural to Taehyung. Weirdly, he actually felt calm. Not scared or
shaken up as he expected. Jungkook seemed amused, he eyed him for some seconds. Intense.
But still not scary. And then he spoke in the same soft tone.

“Who is your personal tattoo artist if I may ask?”

“Min Yoongi.”

“Unfortunately, Yoongi won’t be able to serve you today, got an emergency, but I am
available and if you might ask around, I am a highly appreciated artist here, not to brag or
anything, and I don’t work often, only when inspiration strikes, so you’ll be lucky, of course
if you accept my service.”

Firstly, Taehyung knew perfectly that Yoongi didn’t have any emergency. Secondly, the offer
seemed profitable for him. Everything he could get from Jungkook would be useful. He still
wondered why the rich heir purposed his service to him, but he wasn’t going to overthink it.

“Then lead the way…?”

“Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook. Yourself?”

“V.”

Jungkook raised a brow, but didn’t comment on his name. He raised his hand in the direction
of a room and they entered it. Taehyung saw the subtle dismissive finger the boy sent his
bodyguards that were spread across the room. The boy was protected higher than the
president was.

“Please take a seat, V. I might say I heard people with a one letter name are pretty.”
What a cringe line. Cute, but cringe. No wonder, Taehyung hated people.

“That’s not my real name.” Jungkook laughed while preparing his instruments, the needle
and the design already on the table. Then he turned to him with a questioning gaze.
“Do you resist pain well, V?”

“Yes.”

“I see you answer is as shortly as your name.” And Taehyung panicked because he sensed a
slight change in Jungkook’s voice, something a keen to teasing but with a more dangerous
strain attached to it. But before he could try to explain his lack of interest with some lie about
not having the best day or being sick, Jungkook continued in a calmer tone.

“Don’t worry, it’s endearing. People talk too much nowadays. It’s so noisy.”

“They have too much to say and so few to listen.” Taehyung said and Jungkook nodded.

“Back to pain, I hope you have a high tolerance to it, on the collar bones hurts the most. But
I’ll try to be as gentle as I can.”

“I am okay with pain.”

Jungkook raised a brow, amused at the answer and Taehyung wanted to deny what he just
revealed about him. The atmosphere around them became too comfortable and soothing that
Taehyung forgot that he needed to inquire information from Jungkook not otherwise. But he
also knew that Jungkook was very smart and any attempt at getting something out of him at
their first meeting would seem suspicious to the boy.

Jungkook asked him to roll down his shirt while he was preparing the needle. And Taehyung
did exactly that. Revealing his chest painted in marks and scars and cuts. Really ugly, he
hoped the strawberry tattoo would somehow make it look more bearable. Jungkook turned to
him staring quietly at the boy. He traced his finger on the lightly mutilated skin. His cold
finger that sent warm shivers through his body. Like an ice cube would slip on his body. It
was a refreshing and somehow pleasing feeling.
“An abusive family?”

Taehyung shook his head.

“Not in the slightest. My family… loved me.” Maybe too much.

“Then?”

“I got into fights. A lot.” He slightly winced when the needle touched his skin, but soon he
got used to it. It was actually somehow pleasing. And Jungkook was gentle. His hands were
brushing against his skin, sending jolts of energy through his body. He didn’t understand
what the hell was happening with him. Did he eat something at home and now it was
disturbing his tummy? But in a good way.

“Do you fight, Jungkook?” He decided to ask.

“I hate violence. Never was a fan of it. I don’t find it smart to fight someone when there are a
lot of other ways to solve a problem.”

His answer was a bit weird, taking even the fact that he used the word smart when explaining
why he didn’t prefer fights. Or maybe Taehyung was again overthinking and looking too
much into it.

“You take pain well. Wonder what other things you can take as well?”

The last words were spoken in a whisper, but Taehyung heard them anyway. He already
knew what a playboy Jeon Jungkook was. He liked to enjoy his life, take the most from it,
sleep with as many people he could. But it still was weird to hear Jungkook addressing him in
such a flirty manner. Taehyung decided to ignore it.

Both were silent after that. When the boy finished the tattoo, he trailed his fingers one more
time on the freshly painted skin. Taehyung felt on fire a bit. It seemed strange. He never
experienced such emotions near another boy. On the opposite, he loathed human contact,
except the warm hugs form his friends.
Jungkook covered his tattoo that looked really good, calming in a thin layer of petroleum
jelly and a bandage.
“Remove the bandage after 24 hours. Gently wash the tattoo with antimicrobial soap and
water and be sure to pat dry. Also, apply a layer of antibacterial/Vaseline ointment twice a
day, but don’t put on another bandage. Gently wash your tattoo area twice a day with soap
and water and gently pat dry before reapplying the antibacterial/Vaseline ointment. Don’t
forget to keep applying a moisturizer or ointment after you clean it to keep it moist.”
Taehyung nodded. He already knew all this thanks to Yoongi not shutting up about his work
for hours at home.

“Regret I did the tattoo instead of Min Yoongi?”

Taehyung shook his head with a smile.

“It’s perfect. I love it. You live up to your name of the most appreciated artist here.”

Taehyung didn’t wait for an answer, he dressed in his silk shirt and was ready go to the
reception to pay when a soft but firm hand stopped him.

“Are you maybe hungry? I know a restaurant near here that serves excellent Mexican food.”
So smooth. Taehyung smiled.

“I prefer pizza. But I know what you want, Jungkook and I might decline. I won’t be able to
warm up your bed tonight. I am very cold myself.”

He entered their house being greeted by a shocked looking Hobi and a worried Yoongi.

“Fuck my life.”

Tongue out
For what

I will teach you how to kiss

I don’t need it
For once stop thinking about what’s dirty and what is pure

He stucked his tongues out with a frown on his face daring challenging Jungkook in his red
robe got closer, until he settled between his legs and then he lowered himself taehyung closed
his eyes, Jungkook sucked on his tongue