Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue:

Jungkook was out of breath as he got into the car, hands shaking like an addict in withdrawal as he jammed the keys in, wheeling it in reverse, the soft whrr of the vehicle sloshing some of the snow on the sidewalk on either side. 

He didn't know where he was going, didn't have the slightest clue where he was headed. It was better that way, he thought frantically. All the plans he'd thought out carefully went to shit anyway. 

He stepped on the gas, cranking up the stereo as he operated the wipers. ' kitsch' blared out the speakers as it snowed outside, the streets a field of heavenly white as he kept going. He could do this, he kept telling himself. Just manage to get to a rest stop for tonight, just until it stopped snowing as heavily for a while and then he could start again the next morning. If things went well, he'd be out of the city by tomorrow morning and nobody would be the wiser. 

If. 

The streets were empty. It was, by far, the coldest night of the year. Nobody in their right mind would be driving around like a maniac at this time. If that wasn't reason enough, it was Christmas.

Christmas: which he was supposed to be spending with his best friend in their warm apartment. Where he'd unwrap the new video game console he'd got him. Where they'd drink warm milk and make fun of other people's Christmas trees until the night took them under her hold. 

Not the Christmas where he'd be running away for his life, heart pounding as he hoped against hope that he'd never have to see said best friend again. 

A flash of light. 

A glint from a rear view mirror. 

In the time it took between one blink and the next, Jungkook reflexively stepped on the brakes - hard, to avoid crashing into the car that'd blocked his path. 

No no no please. How had they found him? How had they found him so fast? 

What he wouldn't give for it to be the police stopping him right now, he thought as he shut his eyes closed - as if that'd make things less real. 

"Jungkook," a soft voice called out, and the voice felt like it was coming from so far - from such a distance. 

Or maybe he was just that weary, just that tired. He would give anything to sink into the arms of a friend right now. 

Oh right, he thought plaintively. He didn't have any of those left. 

"Jungkook, please." 

Taehyung's voice was desperate, edging on panicked, like he wanted to bundle him up and drag him to safety. 

He sank back into the leather of the car seats, breathing in the minty scent of its owner. 

"Please just come out, we can talk about it."

It was a deserted road. The closest house was probably a mile away. 

If he screamed, nobody would hear him. 

"This isn't going to work," another familiar voice. 

"Just let me deal with this Jin hyung. Stay out of it. Please! He's scared ." 

A car door opening, then being shut. 

"It's two am. What he is is frozen. Get him out of the cold first and you can worry about his precious feelings later."

Jungkook just realized how numb he felt. His lips were turning an alarming shade of blue, he realized with a side glance into the rear view mirror. Still, he remained inside the car. 

More bickering. 

Arguing. 

Then a voice spoke over them, silencing the other two altogether.

"Jungkook." 

And he stifled a sob, his thighs quivering despite his best efforts not to respond to his silky soft voice. To his seductive tone. 

"Talk to me from where I can see you."

It wasn't a request. It was said matter of fact, a command that existed to be obeyed. 

Jungkook took a shivering breath, his shivering hands reaching for the cold, dark metal in the front compartment, his hands closing around it with a strength he didn't mentally possess.

Bundling his coat tighter around himself, he opened the latch, stepping out of the car carefully, taking in all the stares on him. 

Taehyung's relieved expression. 

Jin's tensed state of mind. 

And lastly, Namjoon. Sure, strong Namjoon, standing a few feet away from him, trench coat sweeping the snow covered ground as it brushed at his ankles, his face clear of any doubt, certain that Jungkook would stumble into his willing arms. 

It would be so warm, his omega tempted him. No more running. No more wondering. 

It would be a travesty. 

With shaky hands, he pulled out the gun, pointing it straight towards Namjoon, ignoring the gasps of shock behind him and his own broken sobs. 

"Don't!" He saw Jin pull Tae back by his arm. "His aim is unsteady as it is and he's unstable right now." 

"But Namjoon hyung!" 

"He's not going to shoot his own mate."

Jin's voice was filled with so much conviction his teeth hurt. He used his other arm to support the one that was still shaking. 

Namjoon, however, didn't even stumble. On the contrary, he walked towards him, confidence radiating from him like a divine aura. 

"Don't…don't come closer," Jungkook stuttered out. "Just…just let me go and I'll..I won't won't hurt anyone. Just promise you won't come after me and I…I…I…"

Namjoon stopped right in front of him, his chest pressed to the barrel of the gun as he gently raised a hand to stabilize its position against his own heart. 

If Jungkook pulled the trigger, Namjoon would die. 

"Go on then," he said softly, brushing aside Jungkook's cold, wet hair, running a warm thumb across his chilled lips and Jungkook's eyes fluttered reflexively. 

He ignored Tae's high pitched screams in the background. 

"All you have to do," Namjoon stepped impossibly closer, "is pull the trigger. Just one time and you'll never see me again." 

Jungkook sobbed at the very thought. 

"It's your choice darling," he licked the tears that'd started to stream down his face. "If you don't want me, there's no point living anyway."

No no, he didn't want him dead. Just gone. He loved him he wanted him he needed him. 

"But if you don't," he warned, his voice directly into the shell of his ear, "if you don't kill me right now, right here," he kissed the corner of his mouth languidly, relishing in Jungkook's whimpers, " I'll never let you go. Death is the only thing that'll rid you of me forever." 

The gun slipped from his fingers, falling to the ground as he fell into Namjoon's embrace, sobbing uncontrollably as the other man ran a soothing hand through his hair. 

"Sshh little omega. It's time to go back home."

What home? He wanted to yell. 

Still, the temptation of warmth and love and obsession was too strong to resist. He followed Namjoon blindly, let himself be led into a warmer car. He followed his mate. 

He followed the scent of the begonias. 

… 

Chapter Text

Chapter 1:

Every Breath You Take

If he looked at it just the right way, Jungkook could almost force himself to believe that it looked like Jimin. 

Almost. 

But then again, there was little these days that didn't remind him of Jimin. 

Of that day. 

It was a beautiful day: gorgeous blue skies, the cloud cover wide and sprawling above them as the sun shone radiantly, magnificently. Where the birds chirped you awake and the sun warmed your heart and melted your worries away. It was the kind of day where you woke up and believed that nothing could go wrong. 

But something had, hadn't it? It'd been beautiful that morning too. 

"Jungkook."

The deep voice drew him out of his wistfulness and he turned to face his therapist, Min Yoongi, who was handing him a tissue and it was only then that he realized the dampness on his face. 

When had he started to cry? 

"Are you alright?" 

His forehead was scrunched up, his voice tinged with worry but the empathy wasn't going to get him anywhere with Jungkook. He'd been through enough therapists by now; overly concerned, simpering over and over about the one thing he didn't want to talk about, not now, not ever. 

"If I was okay I wouldn't be here, would I?" 

His tone had a bite to it, even though he'd hoped to get through the hour without being snappy. However, Min Yoongi didn't seem irritated with his attitude. If anything, he relaxed back in his seat, seemingly glad about something. 

"No, you wouldn't," he agreed, staring into Jungkook's eyes intently and he looked away, shifting his gaze to one of the brightly decorated clay vases on the shelves. "But I meant it a bit more specifically. Even the crazies don't start crying at the drop of a hat," he said almost conspiratorially, smirking. 

Jungkook blinked. It was the most unprofessional thing he'd ever heard from someone, especially from one of his therapists. On the contrary, almost everyone he'd met treated him delicately, like something soft and breakable. Soothing, calming words - infantilizing him, trying to misdirect him and worst of all, trying to make him forget . 

"Are you sure you're supposed to be talking to me like that?" 

"Hmm, I donno," he said slowly. "Why don't you tell me?" 

Jungkook blinked. Again. 

So far, nobody had alluded to his profession in the midst of their sessions. More than anything, it was like they were appalled at the universe for putting an omega in this sort of situation. It was always the first thing they focused on. As soon as they'd gotten a gist of why he was in therapy in the first place, it was all about the trauma and his gender and his forgetting and healing. 

Nobody asked him if that was what he wanted. If he wanted to forget. If  he wanted to heal. Didn't it ever cross their minds that their mind probing would never work on him? That he used it in his own line of work? On a daily basis? You couldn't surprise a magician with his own magic tricks. 

"So you know what I do," he stated. 

"Of course," Yoongi said, tapping the folder on his lap. "Your files were already transferred to me a week ago."

Jungkook looked at the thick brown file in his hands and cringed to think of what was written on them. Probably something along the lines of: 'uncooperative' or 'unfocused' and a dozen lines which ultimately concluded the same thing: 'fragile'  

"I have to say," Yoongi continued, and surprisingly enough he didn't bring up the incident at all, "it's pretty impressive. High school valedictorian, med school graduate with honors at twenty two, accelerated through your Psychiatry programs in the states in barely three years and now, here you are back home."

"Here I am," Jungkook repeated lamely. Once upon a time, he'd be so proud of his accomplishments, chest puffing up proudly and ears blushing when they were brought up. He barely had any reaction now. Nothing mattered anymore. If anything, he was mildly amused by the irony of it all. The shrink ending up at a shrink's office.

"And if you know all of this, you must already know I don't wanna be here." 

His voice was petulant despite his efforts not to be. For some reason, Yoongi irritated him, challenging him to respond to him in a way he wasn't forced to do with the previous therapists. 

"But you need to be," Yoongi pointed out, shutting his file closed with a loud snap and Jungkook scowled. 

He'd been overjoyed to be back home, to Seoul, after three long years in the states. New York was too chaotic, too many people and not enough humans for him to ever call the place home. With the exception of very few people, he often felt lonely in a sea of people, incredibly homesick for a home that didn't remain anymore. For people who were long gone. Of course, he could never say he regretted the move entirely. He'd gotten the scholarship to study for his dream job at his lowest - he'd never give that up, no matter how lost he'd been. His family would have wanted him to go regardless of everything which had happened. It was a grueling program, and he'd had little time for anything other than his coursework, barely getting the time to sleep in the midst of his assignments and the endless tests but it was worth it, he'd managed to accomplish so much. 

Jimin would have been so proud of him, he thought sadly. His brother always was.

It was in the last semester of school that he'd been offered a job back in Seoul and he didn't think twice before accepting, desperate to come back home. To come back to the place where the ruins of his home remained, to return to the memories of his brother. 

To the memory of him. 

Unfortunately, it wasn't as easy to detach himself from his past, the dark memories clinking to him like the smoke from the fire. Soon after he moved, he realized that distance wouldn't be enough to escape what he'd left behind. That maybe he didn't want to escape it. 

The nightmares plagued him in his sleep, so terrifying that he woke up in cold sweats, sheer horror enshrouding his beating heart. His hands trembled at the oddest of times, the smallest of things throwing him back in time. He could put on all the masks he wanted but the emotion was so strong, it always managed to seep through the edges. Eventually, it became too much of a struggle to hide it and he was encouraged to seek professional help. Help he was most reluctant to accept. 

Because as shameful as it sounded, the worst day in his life was also the best.

And he never wanted to forget it. 

His new job, he scowled internally, didn't seem to take his feelings on the whole thing into account. 

'A clean bill of health,' his new boss had said, giving him a critical side eye. ' And that includes you to be fully cleared for work. That means physically and mentally. '

"Look," he appealed pitifully, suddenly bone tired. "All I need is your signature on a piece of paper and we can end this charade. We both know that's why I'm really here. Pretending otherwise is just a waste of both our time."

He'd only been in Seoul for a week and he had a ton of work to do. All his stuff had just been delivered and from what he remembered, unpacking was a chore. One which he was looking forward to with dread. And he still had to go pick up a secondhand vehicle for work and set up his wardrobe. He didn't have the energy to pretend with a new therapist all over again. 

Min Yoongi, however, did not sound pleased. 

He took off his glasses, shaking his head in slight disapproval before he addressed Jungkook. 

"You, of all people, should know why I can't just 'sign some paper'," and the disappointment in his voice had him slouching instinctively. "Why don't you look me in the eye and tell me what's really wrong?"

Jungkook tried to, but he looked down instantly at the stormy expression the other held, hands growing sweaty. He couldn't make out what the other man's secondary gender was, he was heavily covered in suppressants as was protocol for healthcare professionals. Jungkook wore them too, religiously in fact, and didn't step out of the house without them. Of course, he could attribute that more to his genuine fear for someone finding out he was an omega rather than simply following a set standard of rules. 

"See? You can barely even stare me in the eye right now. Can you still say you're totally fine?" 

His voice got softer towards the end as he spoke, making Jungkook feel slightly guilty at being so curt with him. 

"I'm sorry," he muttered, eyes downcast. 

Yoongi sighed, putting his pen down. "You don't need to apologize, Jungkook. I understand that it must be tough, adjusting back and everything. Besides," he gave him a wry stare. "Hobi told me you'd be difficult."

Jungkook gaped at him. 

"You know my boss?" 

Yoongi snorted, seemingly very out of character for someone like him. 

"Of course I do. Hoseok and I go way back. He asked me for a favor a few weeks ago, to check up on one of his new recruits. Said that you needed a clearance check and well, here you are."

Jungkook shuffled in his seat uncomfortably. It made sense though, explained how he'd gotten acquainted with a new therapist so soon after coming back. Of course, this also made it more difficult to fake his way through an evaluation.

Almost like he was reading his mind, he said soothingly, "if it makes you feel better Jungkook, why don't you think of it like a weekly chat with a friend? We don't have to talk about anything heavy. We can just start slow, build up to it," he offered. 

And Jungkook didn't know what to make of Min Yoongi. From his own experience as a doctor, it'd been drilled into his head to keep boundaries with his patients. Healthy boundaries for both their safety - to be professional and polite. So far, this Min Yoongi character was the opposite of everything he'd expected. He'd been prepared to deal with another rigid person who wanted to extract his memories and line them up to explain his state of mind, to sit through hour-long sessions of stubborn silence. 

He hadn't expected this. 

He had to admit that it was refreshing. 

"So what do you think? Tea every Friday at six?"

"Do you call all your friends so late for tea?" 

"Well," Yoongi smiled and it was so incredibly heartwarming that Jungkook unconsciously reflected it upon his own face. "I'd offer you whiskey but you're still my patient so.."

And this time, Jungkook didn't even try to hold back the laughter. 

… 

After he'd left Min Yoongi's office - (yes, he promised to be back, no - he wouldn't skip the meetings), he started the long walk home as the sky got darker. It'd probably rain, he thought absently. And just as his luck would have it, he had no umbrella. 

He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shoved in his earpods and listened to eve blast through. He could have taken the subway but he'd realized early on that the walking helped. It was incredibly soothing to surround himself with droves of people and walk amongst them - unnoticed, unseen. Cars buzzed past, Seoul starting to light up in the evening with specks of light that looked like fireflies if he ignored all the smog and the incessant chatter on the way. People in pencil skirts and classy business suits strode past him, bumping into him sometimes and he was more glad than ever that his scent was concealed. That he got to be a silent spectator in a world full of people who treated omegas like zoo animals. 

He jumped visibly when a familiar bubbly pop ringtone blared in his ears, eliciting a few strange looks from the passers-by. He took the phone from his pocket and smiled widely when he saw the caller id. 

"Tae!"

"Jungkookie!!"

And Jungkook almost cried at the excitement in his voice, the familiarity warming his heart. It'd only been a few days but he - 

"-missed you!" 

"Me too," he whispered. 

He heard some shuffling on the other side and asked, "are you packing already?" 

"Yep , " Tae popped the 'p'. "I can't wait until I'm done with these stupid exams and I finally get that dumb degree. I can finally come back home to Seoul! To you!" 

"Tae, some people would practically die for that stupid degree, you know that right?" Cuz' leave it to his best friend to be so blase about a business degree from an ivy league college. 

"I know, I know , " he waved him off and Jungkook could practically hear the eye roll. 

Kim Taehyung was the other reason New York had been tolerable. He'd been somewhat of an enigma to the other students there, walking into class one morning smack dab in the middle of the semester and getting away with it. 

'You mind if I sit here?' 

It was the downright arrogance in his voice that made Jungkook look up from where he was nose deep in his textbook only to see that the rest of the class was staring at them too and he blushed. 

The boy in front of him was dressed so lavishly it was almost hideous. Unlike the other college students who were dressed in ragtag sweats and hoodies (he swore he saw one girl walk into class wearing hello kitty pajamas), he was dressed impeccably. An elegant blue blazer thrown over what looked to be a very expensive polo neck and classy fitted trousers, he threw back his immaculately styled hair as he addressed Jungkook. All in all, he definitely didn't look like he belonged in a nine am class on leadership and personality. 

But that wasn't why everyone was staring at him. 

It was probably because he'd walked up to the veritable loner of the class and spoke to him, to the boy who freaked out when the others got too close, who refused every invite from the rest, who simply preferred to live on his own. You'd think people would find better things to do at their age but anyway.. 

'Um..' 

Taehyung didn't wait for him to reply before sidling in beside him, throwing his knapsack into the desk beneath them, forcing Jungkook to make space for them. He hazarded a look around class and winced at all the stares they were getting. 

God, he really didn't want to be the reason why the poor boy would be ostracized by the rest of the college.

'Um,' he started again hesitantly and Taehyung gave him a challenging look, jaw set as if he was daring him to talk. 

'What? Got a problem?' 

'It's just that..you should probably find somewhere else to go sit for class,' he said, nodding over to the empty seats at the back. 

'What's wrong with this one, huh?' 

Jungkook raised an eye. There was no need to be so…rude. 

'Nothing,' he said straightforwardly. 'Unless you want me to be your only friend for the rest of your entire college life.'

He gave him a 'happy now?' look and waited for him to get up and leave. Surely, this kind of person valued his social life more than offending a random unpopular stranger. 

But to his surprise, the boy looked at him intently, his features morphing into those of mild awe, a weird smile gracing his face and just as Jungkook was starting to get weirded out, he huffed out a small laugh, muttering under his breath. 

'I shouldn't have doubted hyung, ha!' 

Before Jungkook could ask him what in the world he was talking about, he turned towards Jungkook fully, a complete one eighty from before. 

'I'm Kim Taehyung,' he introduced himself, shifting from English to Korean and looking towards him in question. 'And I don't mind you being my only friend.'

'Jungkook,' he said happily, all traces of their previous interaction forgotten, overjoyed to hear his mother tongue in a land so far away. 'I'm Jeon Jungkook.'

…

''-nd Ggukie? Jungkookie??''

"Oh yeah, sorry what?" Looks like he'd been a little too engrossed in his thoughts.

"I was asking you about your new therapist, what did you say his name was?"

"Min Yoongi." 

"Oh yeah! So, did you meet him? Do you think it'll be different this time?"

Jungkook thought back to Yoongi's careful blend of sarcasm and bluntness. He didn't know why but he felt like he'd end up liking it this time. Who knows? Maybe a change of pace was exactly what he needed. 

"Maybe," he said non committedly. "I guess we'll have to just wait and see." 

"Yeah, I guess," Tae echoed. "Are you heading home now?" 

"Hmm, in a while," Jungkook said. There's something I need to do first. 

"Okay , " more shuffling on his side. "Just make sure you make it home on time. Looks like it's gonna rain soon."

"Sure hyung, can't wait to see you back home." 

"You too Ggukie. G'night."

"Night hyung." 

Jungkook cut the call and paused for a moment before he put it back in his pocket. Something was nagging at the back of his mind but he couldn't quite put a finger on it. 

Oh well. 

… 

The heat felt real, the flames licking at his feet as he looked around frantically, sobbing as he hugged himself tighter. 

Everywhere he looked was red. 

Bright burning orange and yellow and hot red. 

He felt his throat closing up, the smoke making his eyes blur and his lungs ache for a breath of fresh air. 

But he still struggled to find Jimin, to scent out the faintest hints of jasmine before it was lost to the flames. Perhaps forever. 

-the crashing beams. 

-the molten wax. 

-peeling drywall. 

-he was getting lightheaded. Fading..fading..fading.

But that voice. 

-and then strong arms holding him close. Holding him tight. 

-the scent of begonias so violent that it almost drowned out the smoke around him. 

-'stay,' he'd croaked out, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. The only thing he could get out. 

'I will,' the voice had said. Firm, unrelenting - as if the very possibility of leaving was insane. 

'I promise.' 

He'd promised..he'd promised…he'd promised… 

… 

Jungkook woke up with a shuddering gasp, cold sweat drenching the back of his shirt, heart beating so loud it was frightening. 

He reached out to his side unconsciously, seeking out Tae's ever present warmth, to cuddle into his arms and be lulled into a dreamless sleep but his heart lurched when he came up empty. 

Right. 

Tae wasn't here. He was still in New York. 

He was alone. Alone in his room devoid of begonias. 

He closed his eyes and leaned back. 

Inhale. 

Exhale. 

Inhale. 

Exhale. 

He glanced at the wall clock. The long hand tucked away at three am and he winced. He'd barely get four more hours and that was if he managed to fall back asleep. 

Fuck. 

He fell back into bed, drawing up his hands and legs until he was huddled under his duvet like a small child. 

It'd been three years. The nightmares were supposed to go away by now. 

But it was his fault too, wasn't it? You couldn't forget something your mind was so desperate to remember, could you? 

He used to feel terribly guilty about it at first. Even after his entire family was gone forever, he couldn't bring himself to forget him . Guilty for his mind wandering to that mysterious man even as lowered empty caskets to the ground - the man who had saved him from what would have been certain death, the man who he learned had held him close and kept him safe from the people who'd sought to hurt him. The man who scented of begonias. 

He hadn't mentioned him to any of his therapists, a part of him wanting to take the secret to the grave with him even though he knew it was probably hindering his healing. He knew, if this were anyone else, he'd tell them the same: he was feeling a misplaced sense of gratitude towards his savior, that his desire to be thankful was getting warped into a desire to please instead. It was common for victims to idolize their saviors. If this was one of his patients, he'd tell them the same. 

But he knew, deep down, that this was different. Even amidst all the pain and the chaos and the confusion, his omega had physically reacted to a scent. For the first time in his life, his omega had reared its metaphorical head up in interest and it was probably just his shitty luck that he was too high on smoke to keep his eyes open to catch a glance of his so-called mystery man but when he'd woken up, it was alone in an ambulance with a coat thrown over him. 

His coat. 

Jungkook had guarded that piece of apparel fiercely, refusing to let any of the hospital staff take it away from him. They'd assumed it was nesting material, that he'd latched on to the first thing that brought him comfort after the trauma. Anyways, he didn't care what they thought. He held onto it, almost in tears when the scent wore off and he realized it was because it was the last physical proof the whole thing was real and he hadn't conjured up his savior in a last ditch effort to keep himself awake. 

He snuggled deeper into the mattress, urging himself to fall asleep even though he knew that would just keep him up longer. It was time to grow up, he said to himself, like he had so many times. He had to accept the state of things and bury the past where it was supposed to be - in the past. 

To let the bygones be. 

But sleep evaded him. 

Just like that man. 

… 

He woke to the dizzyingly annoying pop song Tae had chosen for him as his alarm, jerking in his sleep before shutting off the phone. 

Seven a.m

Jungkook groaned tiredly, eyes burning as he reached over to turn it off but it ended up slipping from his grasp, falling on the floor with a loud, irritating thud. 

The rest of his morning only got worse. 

He realized, with no small amount of horror, that he hadn't even opened the box with all his work clothes yet and ran to the kitchen, still wrapped in a towel, to find a box cutter only to realize that all his boxes were unlabeled. 

He was going to kill Kim Taehyung when he got his hands on him.

By the time he'd managed to dig out a somewhat matching pair suit, he was almost half an hour late so he had to skip breakfast, running out the door, cup of coffee sloshing dangerously in his hands. 

He barely made it in time into the last subway car, squeezing past a teen girl reading some manga on her phone who gave him a nasty side eye when he nudged past her. 

"Sorry," he murmured. She just rolled her eyes. 

Kids these days. 

Jungkook hoisted his bag higher onto his shoulder before moving on, his stop was a long way from now and he hoped he'd get a little nook by the closed door to prepare himself mentally before he walked into work. 

The job hadn't been his first choice, if he were being entirely honest. In fact, psychiatry hadn't been his first choice either. As a young medical student, he'd always gravitated towards children, so much so that he was pretty sure he'd end up studying pediatrics but to his surprise, in his interviews, a lot of colleges were surprised that he wasn't considering a career in mental health. 

'You're naturally empathetic,' one had said. 'Truly, it'd be a waste of your talents otherwise.' 

'I've been matching students to their residencies for twenty years,' another had said, 'and you just seem to be a perfect fit for it.' 

Jungkook wanted to interject, to tell them that they were completely mistaken, he was the farthest thing from what they wanted him to be. He was socially awkward on the best of days, a complete loner on others - holed up in his room with ramen and video games. The fact that people thought he'd be good with others? It was practically laughable. 

But soon, he realized that wasn't actually the case. What all the people were seeing were his omega. His natural empathy which shone through when he tried to comfort someone, as he so naturally did in his line of work. Omegas were gifted with an odd sense of relatability and calm, a gift for conviction so powerful that some people, even today, were convinced that it was a grave form of black magic. 

So at first, he'd wanted to refuse. It felt like he was cheating his way in, with an inborn skill. But he remembered the arrogance the alphas carried with them, the silent belief that they were bigger and better and deserved more than they were given and he let the slightest bit of bitterness propel him forward. He'd worked incredibly hard till now. Nobody could say otherwise. So what if he used his natural gifts to help him advance through life? 

Tae was another person who wasn't happy with his choices. 

'Forensic psychiatry? What does that even mean?' 

Jungkook was cleaning up his stuff in their shared dorm while Tae lazed about on his bed, kicking up his legs. 

'It's…well, you deal with people who need professional help. People who society doesn't think deserve it or can't access it.' 

'People like criminals, you mean,' Tae said pointedly. 

'It's not always criminals Tae,' he insisted, searching for his toothbrush. 

'But they're the most common right? Oh my god, I knew it. You're gonna be like that Clarice Sterling chick from that serial killer movie. The one who deals with the crazies.' 

'Tae!' 

'What?' He flipped over to sleep on his stomach, staring at Jungkook. 'If you ask me, it's dangerous Ggukie. These are actual outlaws,' he stressed. 'You literally graduated top of your class, shouldn't you have the pick of your field? Something safe like sitting in a cushy office and dealing with snazzy rich kids and their first world problems?' 

Jungkook was secretly glad Tae didn't know about the omega thing. If he was already uncomfortable about the idea now, he'd probably go ballistic then. 

'It's a good program,' he defended.' I get paid to learn, not many people can say that and besides, every job in the world has an element of danger to it. Even yours!' 

'No it doesn't,' Tae said quickly, biting his lips. 'I'm just a boring business major, nothing problematic here.'

It was strange how defensive he got about it but that was Tae, he presumed. If Jungkook was an oddity, Tae was his own version of weird so he didn't think much about it. 

'The offer's from Seoul,' he finally confessed his real reason. 'I couldn't say no.'

'Oh Ggukie,' Tae crooned. The other man knew how important home was for him. Or what was left of it, at least. 

'And besides,' Jungkook tried to lighten up the mood. 'All you rich businessmen have crazy lives too. Remember that story we heard in the news? About that rich chaebol whose brother tried to poison him to take over his company?' 

Tae gave him a sad smile. 'That's never gonna happen to me, Ggukie. My brother would sooner put himself behind bars than see me hurt.' 

It seemed a little strange to phrase it that way but Jungkook let it go. He'd always known Tae to hero worship his brothers a little from the little he'd herd about them. 

'But look on the bright side! We can still be together now. You're coming back too right, once you finish up with your degree?' 

'Of course, I just need to finish up my extra credits.' 

Since Tae had joined college later than was usual, he'd had to work to catch up with the rest of the students. That included staying behind an additional few weeks before he could go back home. 

It was a matter of formality, even asking at this point. Frankly, he didn't want to imagine going anywhere without Taehyung. 

… 

People nudged past him in the rush to step off into the platform and he tried his best to ignore the rush of  sweaty bodies, choosing to close his eyes and sway to the sound of the beat echoing in his ears. The sub was a hassle at best, what with the morning crowd but he couldn't really afford anything more right now. The move had cost him a pretty penny. 

As he looked around, he caught sight of a young boy, seventeen or eighteen at most, wearing a black hoodie over ripped jeans. He was holding onto the railing, earphones plugged tight as he tapped along to the beat. It wouldn't have been too worrisome. If not for the fact that he was staring right at Jungkook. 

And so intently too, not even dropping his gaze when Jungkook stared back at him. For a moment, Jungkook wondered if this was someone he knew, someone he'd failed to recognize but just as he put one foot forward in his direction, maybe to tilt his head in acknowledgement, the stranger tensed, turning around promptly and disappearing into the thrush of strangers. 

Huh. 

Weird. 

It was probably just a misunderstanding. He must have mistaken Jungkook for someone else. There were thousands of men in boring gray suits who trudged these doors with half cold cups of coffee to go. 

He let the thought drop away. He had far more pressing things to worry about. 

He hadn't been lying to Tae. The main reason why he'd taken up the job was because he got to come back home, yes but it was more than that. 

It was a dangerous job, one that he shouldn't have been allowed to work. He knew very well that if anyone discovered that he was an omega, he'd be shipped right back to a shrink himself, probably to probe his head to find out if he had self destructive tendencies - putting himself in such danger. 

But that's what part of the allure was, wasn't it? 

'I don't get it,' Jimin had said when he told he was going to try to get into medical school. 

'Why do you wanna take up something so hard? It's going to take years and I hear it's so stressful. Are you sure this is what you want to do?' 

'I thought you'd be happy for me,' Jungkook frowned. 

'I am!' Jimin reassured him. 'It's just that, you're an omega and I don't want you struggling because of the stress.' 

Jungkook wanted to retaliate that medical school would be stressful for everyone - not just him, but Jimin did have a point. Ever since he'd presented, he'd been fawned over by his older brother and though Jungkook knew it was just in his a tire to do - Jimin had always been fiercely overprotective - he did want to escape the shackles his gender presented. 

He started to do things he'd never done before - things that went completely against the stereotype: school sport teams, grueling cram school sessions, near insane levels of perfection. 

He knew, the moment he'd presented, that nobody would blame him if he were to drop out of school and adopt a more - traditional style of life - more omega like. 

And he'd hated that expectation. 

To this day, he still didn't know if most of his hobbies were truly his passions - or were they just things he'd done out of spite? 

Thankfully, his stop had arrived and he braced himself to get off. 

Looking around (and shielding his eyes from the sun, damn he should've brought sunglasses), the building was glaringly visible in the distance, the glass windows of the scraper reflecting the sun rays even at this distance. 

He was glad that it was barely a five minute walk from the station, walking up to the impressive building ahead of him, pushing his way through the revolving doors. 

Contrary to what he'd expected when he'd accepted the job, he'd been assigned to a crime control unit, not a hospital. It doubled as a research and training facility so he could still take classes voluntarily, but it would be less of a traditional approach to schooling and more of a practical education. He would be trained in the psych division until he could work on the field and until then, it'd be lots and lots of reading to catch up on. Medical law was something he was yet to learn. He had to admit, he was pretty nervous. It was the first time he would be working in a non-hospital setting and he'd strive hard to acclimatize. 

Jungkook followed the directions that he'd been given, taking the elevator up to the top floor of the building. This level only had a few offices and the last one was the one he was supposed to be at. 

Patting his neck to confirm that his suppressants were still functioning, he took a deep breath before knocking twice on Jung Hoseok's office door. 

He didn't have to wait long. A man in a checkered suit threw open the door, hair fluffed up in a coiffed perm and a blinding smile. He looked so refreshingly youthful and full of energy that Jungkook froze for a moment, unable to reconcile him with the idea of a semi-aging, tired, balding old man. 

"Jungkook! 

Even his voice was cheery.  

"Um, good morning sunbaenim. You asked me to meet you?" 

"Yes, yes, come in." He stepped out of the doorway, throwing the door fully open to let Jungkook in. 

"Did you have any trouble finding your way to the office?" He asked, pouring them both a generous amount of coffee and Jungkook's stomach lurched. He was already trying to wipe out the taste of the too bitter coffee he'd had in the morning, he wasn't in the mood for another. 

"No," he replied politely, taking a seat in front of the grand mahogany desk, looking around the room in wonder. It was very simplistic, no pops of color or decoration - but then again, the man's personality seemed to make up for that, he presumed. 

The walls however, were a different story. Countless certificates and accolades were framed in line. The top shelves were full of shiny medals, the ribbons tangled up from the way they were all put together. There were also numerous photos, presumably from his days in the police academy, pictures with his fellow cadets, him in full uniform and - this one made his eyebrows raise - one with him and Min Yoongi standing together, arms around each other, looking young and happy. Hmm..the other man hadn't been lying about knowing him at least. Hoseok followed his gaze to the picture and he smiled, nostalgia coloring his face. 

"Ahh.. I see you've met my Yoongi already. I hope you don't mind that I recommended you to someone without asking first. I just thought he'd be a right fit for you." 

His Yoongi? 

"Um, no I don't mind," Jungkook said. "We had a pretty good session yesterday." 

If 'pretty good' meant him being catty as hell and his new therapist being the most sarcastic person he'd met, then yes, he didn't mind. Besides, this was his new boss and he didn't want to risk offending him in any way. 

"So," Hoseok started, his tone taking on a more serious approach and Jungkook sat up straighter. "It's your first day, so don't worry about doing anything just yet. Just make sure you settle in properly this week, I'll have someone show you around okay?" 

Jungkook nodded hesitantly, a little taken aback by how kind Hoseok was being. He hadn't expected to be given time to settle in. 

"That's really nice of you. Thank you," Jungkook said, bowing slightly but Hoseok waved him away. 

"It's the least we could do. We don't exactly get a lot of students of your niche, and especially ones so talented -" Jungkook blushed at the sudden praise "-so take all the time you need to get used to things, alright?" 

Jungkook nodded in thanks and that seemed to be the end of their conversation. He called for someone through the telecom and a few moments later, a tall girl walked in. She had long, straight black hair and was dressed in all black - a satin blouse over long dress pants and jet black pumps. All that black just made her face look paler than it appeared. 

"Jungkook, this is Eunchae. She'll show you around for today, is that okay?" 

"Yes, of course," and he got up to follow the girl, speeding up to keep with the click of her boots. She led him through furnished cubicles with people poring over their work silently, none of the usual rush of offices here. They walked up the stairs to the first floor quietly, passing by a few intimidating glass offices and it was all so uncomfortably silent that Jungkook offered to introduce himself first. 

"I'm Jungkook," he started slowly, "the new -" 

"We know who you are," came the sharp reply. "It's all everyone's been talking about - the empath extraordinaire. "

Wow . He definitely wasn't so snarky when he was an intern. 

Jungkook shrank back into himself, too scared to say anything else. He nodded silently as he was shown past the makeshift classrooms and the library, making a mental note of where all the vending machines were. 

She dropped him off at an empty room where the desk was filled with files and manuscripts and turned to him with a bored smile. 

"You can read up on the cases we're working on if you like. Or check out the reading room. Or just..I donno, she shrugged, wait for our professors in the afternoon. Well, if there's nothing else…" 

The door clicked behind her as she walked away and he was left in an empty room all by himself. 

Very well then.

… 

The rest of the day was quite boring, if he had to say so himself. 

It was interesting to familiarize himself with the cases laid out in front of him but after that, things got a little monotonous. He was actually looking forward to some sort of formal introduction, some sort of demo class but to his disappointment, he received nothing of the sort. He introduced himself to his professors that afternoon, all of whom were for some strange reason, increasingly fascinated with him, giving each other approving nods in his regard. 

He clocked out at five, a little confused and not anticipating tomorrow at all, sighing as he left the building. It was only the first day, he rationalized. Things were bound to be rather slow. It'd take him a while to get things rolling and until then, he would try his hardest to fit in. 

Now, it was time to worry about other things. 

Jungkook stopped by a florist, taking his sweet time to decide on a flower arrangement for the evening. It was an important day and he didn't want to mess anything up because of haste. 

Finally, he decided on jasmine and roses - a cliché but also a classic. It wasn't like anyone would be there to judge him for it, he gathered. 

It was getting dark and if Tae were here, he'd bug him about getting home before someone stole him off the streets or something equally paranoid. He chuffed out a laugh, the boy could be unbelievably anxious about the strangest things. When they were in uni, he trailed behind him to every part they went to, texted him each hour he went to one alone. He offered to pick him up from the hospital when he had to work nights and it got to a point where he was so protective, so attentive that Jungkook confronted him about it one day. 

"You don't, you don't like - have a crush on me or something, do you?" 

Tae had looked so scandalized at the very thought that his expression was all the answer Jungkook needed and he sighed in relief. He loved Tae as a best friend and he didn't want any unnecessary feelings complicating their relationship. 

"Thank god," he confessed." I don't know what I would do if you said yes or something." 

"Trust me," Tae croaked out. "I'm the last person who'd like you that way.  

Besides, the walk to the churchyard was a long one, it'd be past nightfall by the time he made it. Of course, he could always hitch a cab or take the bus but he needed to steel himself up to it - to convince himself to go ahead. 

The walk was lonely. 

He filled it with the things he'd pushed out of his mind for three years, thoughts which would have brought him to his knees on a worse day. 

His family may have been taken away from him on a bright sunny day but the day of the funeral was a downpour. 

Like nature itself realized what had happened a day late and was compensating in the best way it could.

He was pitifully alone on the fateful day, dressed in a secondhand black suit since he'd never had the need to buy one of his own. The neighbors gave him pitying stares, hushed whispers behind covered hands as they spoke about him and the fire and the pathetic empty caskets. There were police personnel still milling about the property, the arson investigation ongoing despite everything else. 

Striking while the iron was hot, they'd said. 

He bore the weight of their pity alone, a solitary figure amongst the idlemongers and the gossips who'd come from so far to see how far into their misfortunes the Jeon family had fallen - a a marriage of convenience, a broken family held together by money and money and more money - the same crippling lack of which had ultimately driven them into an early grave.

Because nobody believed that it was an accident. 

Nobody wanted to believe it. Everyone wanted to believe the alternative - that their greed received its due. 

Jungkook was the only one who knew the truth, who grieved because of the truth. He was loved dearly - and he loved in return. His family may have been rich and pompous on the outside but there was nobody who supported him more than his parents, nobody who cared for him more than his brother. He was surrounded by jealous, petty people, he realized bitterly. People who wished to see him suffer as the ones he loved the most were lowered quietly into the ground without any of the pomp or glamor they surrounded themselves with in life - the church bells and a young boy's sobs the only sounds to show they were mourned at all. 

… 

He reached the cathedral grounds with a heavy heart, his fingers pale and trembling around the bundle of flowers he was holding. It'd been three years since the last time he was here and he was struggling to move against the pressure of the emotions weighing him down. 

Guilt - that he'd been away for so long - with nobody to pay his respects. 

Fear - that he'd offend their memories with the audacity to show his face after what he'd done to them. 

Joy - that he'd be in their presence again - no matter in what form. 

It was dark, the oil lamps of the church barely enough to illuminate the way but Jungkook could probably walk this place blindfolded, having been dragged here every Sunday for the first twenty two years of his life. The cathedral was empty this time of the night and he walked in with a heavy heart, sitting down on one of the benches with his head in his hands as he tried to calm his beating heart and stifle the sobs rising steadily in his chest. Fuck, he couldn't get through this. 

He was such a coward, wasn't he? Not for the first time, he cursed his inability to work up the courage to pay his respects. He'd escaped the responsibility for three whole years, it was high time he owned up to what he was supposed to do. 

He took a deep breath, the scent of incense and rosewater calming him slightly as he rose up and took shaky steps towards the backdoor of the church, heading towards the memorial grounds. 

The groundsman barely gave him a nod of acknowledgement - a wizened old man who was peering into a ratty old book. He probably got dozens of miserable, lonely, guilt ridden youths like him at odd times in the night. Jungkook walked forward almost in a daze, the path clear from memory despite the physical route getting blurred over time. The gravestones along his way were well tended to, he thought sadly: a day old wreath hung on one, loose petals scattered over the others and then there was his, he thought, feet coming to a halt. 

Three tall white marble plaques stood side by side, bare of any well wishes or mementoes, a fine layer of dust coating the headstones. 

A guttural sob escaped his throat despite his best efforts to keep himself in check. 

"I'm sorry!" He whispered, despite knowing how pathetic it would be if someone saw. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry…" 

He kept chanting the same thing over and over again in the midst of his tears, not knowing what he was apologizing for. He wondered if the universe would take pity on him if he apologized enough, if it would give him what he wanted if he pleaded hard enough. 

Jungkook imagined what his mother would say if she were here, seeing him weeping with his head hung low, salt dripping onto the blooms in his hand. 

'There there little one,' with a heavy hand on his head, and she always called him that, no matter how much he grew up. 'Don't cry. You have big plans in store for you.' 

Because that's the last thing they'd told him, the last thing he remembered. They'd always been so concerned about his future, so encouraging and involved in whatever he did and even weeks before they'd passed, they'd been in high spirits. 

'We gave big plans for you, Jungkookie,' they said. 'Big big plans.' 

He closed his eyes for a few moments, gathering himself before he turned his attention to the marble beside the first two. 

Park Jimin. 

Devoted son and loving brother. 

And Jungkook couldn't contain himself any longer. 

He broke down crying, the flowers falling from his hand to the mud but he couldn't afford to care, head aching from how hard he was sobbing. Silent screams of agony as he choked on his tears. 

He was alone. 

Nobody to rub his back while he cried. Nobody to kiss his tears away. Nobody to lean him against his shoulder as he sobbed. 

Nobody. 

He didn't know how long it took before he managed to get himself under control, sniffling as he wiped his face with the edge of his sleeve, his face blotchy and irritated. 

Jimin would probably have made fun of him if he saw him right now - call him a tomato with a bad rash or something, and a hysterical laugh spilled through his lips, the sound loud and awkward in the lonely night but he couldn't care less. Not when the mere memory of something made him happier than he'd been in months. 

"Hey hyung," he started, his voice breaking on the last word, but he forced himself to go on. 

"It's been a while, hasn't it.." 

And he talked. Talked and talked about everything and anything. About the big things like getting his degree and graduating, about his new job, about Kim Taehyung and the shenanigans they got up to. He also rambled about the little things - the things that would have sounded silly to anyone else but he still talked about them because this was his older brother. Jimin would want to know everything about him - dead or alive. He went on and on about how he'd finally learned to cook in the states after he'd gone broke for the umpteenth time on delivery food, how he'd dyed his hair that horrible shade of silver on a drunken dare and had to tell all his patients that it wasn't premature aging, or that time when he'd finally started to take up art - an omegan hobby for a change and he was surprisingly good at it. He didn't realize how late it was getting, he'd sat down criss-cross in front of the headstone, relaying everything like a real conversation when he heard a small crunch from behind a nearby tree, followed by hurried footsteps. 

"Hello?" 

His hackles rose defensively. It was probably someone just like him, he tried to appease himself. Someone paying a late night visit to a loved one. 

Either that or he was about to be knifed in a graveyard. 

God, he needed to lay off on the horror movies. 

"Hello?" He tried again, getting up and walking over cautiously to the place where the sound was coming from. Please don't be a serial killer Please don't be a serial killer Please don't be a serial killer… 

Turns out it was - nobody? 

The spot was empty, it was probably the rustle of leaves or a small animal. His hyperawareness was probably just picking up on something that wasn't really there, he tried to convince himself. Or maybe he was back to hallucinating again, it was always a possibility. 

But one thing was for sure. 

Nothing explained the scent of jasmine concentrated so heavily where he'd been standing. 

… 

It plagued him for weeks after that. He was so shaken by the whole thing that he stopped going to the cemetery at odd times. The next few times, he went in the mornings, sun bright and shining his fears away and even then, he didn't stay long.

His new job wasn't very satisfying either, he was upset to say. 

Day in and day out, he spent in the library, poring over books on ethics and law and cold cases from the nineties. He didn't mind the endless studying, it came with the territory - he was used to studying for hours at a stretch but what he was dissatisfied with was how aloof this job was. He was used to interacting with people - talking to them, understanding things, soothing them. And he was damn good at it. Frankly, he had yet to even shadow one of the higher ups on their visits to the penitentiary and it frustrated him to no end. How would he ever learn if he had no exposure?

He knew they were allowed to go. There were two other students who he was introduced to on the first day - Kai and Sehun. He knew for a fact that they were privy to the current caseload. He'd heard them talking about it to this professor, who, he'd learned, barely cared for his new students if his current attitude was the norm. After his first meeting with Jungkook, the extent of their interactions had only consisted of vague criticisms of case summaries he'd compiled or assignments he'd been asked to submit. Honestly, it was starting to wear on him. He needed to get that clearance check approved as soon as possible, he thought. The sooner he got it done, the faster he could start doing his real job. Otherwise, he'd go insane just sitting around twiddling his thumbs.

So he ranted about it a lot too. 

"-and yesterday, they said I could go home early. Early! Three years as a resident and I never once went home before eight! And now I'm getting to cut class?!" 

Yoongi stared at him with an unimpressed look in his face, the implication clear.

This is what you choose to take issue with?

"You know most people would be happy about this, right?" He pointed out unhelpfully, twirling his pen around his fingers. 

"I'm not most people. I like to stay occupied." That and I don't have a life outside my work and I need you to clear me for work so I can work myself to exhaustion so that I'm too tired to have nightmares, is what he didn't say. 

"I don't think I need to tell you this," he started, "but trying to immerse yourself in work so that you don't have to confront your mental state isn't going to get you a clean bill of health from me."

Just how did he - 

Jungkook opened his mouth to say that no he did not - but the look on Min Yoongi's face said - I dare you to lie right now and drat, was this man a mind reader or something? 

Jungkook looked at Yoongi comfortably from where he was sitting opposite to him in a cushy lounge seat. True to his words, over all these weeks, he'd never once brought up the incident directly or talked about the things that he was actually coming to the therapy for. He'd stuck to friendlier topics: asked how his day had been, asked him how he was getting on with his art - things like that. They talked about their experiences in healthcare - that was fun, and Yoongi seemed to be very interested in his boring everyday life, so he'd never felt pressured or forced to drop out. Of course, he subtly tried to bring up the past a few times but steered clear of it the moment Jungkook tensed up, eyes shifting, his animated expression dropping away. So far, Min Yoongi seems content to let Jungkook open up on his own terms. 

And that made him the best therapist he'd had till date. 

However, that wasn't going to be enough to get the papers signed and he needed that. 

"Look," Jungkook started with a new burst of confidence. "I'm sleeping well -" Lie. He was barely able to sleep for three hours before the nightmares woke him - "I'm eating better too -" Lie. He couldn't remember the last time he had a full meal " - and I'm working out too -" okay that was true, but only cause' the exhaustion helped tire him out. 

He kept his expression somber, hoping that Yoongi would perhaps, maybe see a grain of truth in there? 

"Jungkook," and he instantly knew he'd been had. "I deal with liars on a professional basis," fuck fuck fuck , "I can see the dark circles under your eyes for God's sake and your clothes are practically hanging off of you!" 

He needed Kim Taehyung to teach him how to lie better. 

"But," and Jungkook perked up at the change in his tone, "I'll still sign things off for you today." 

Huh? 

"You will?!" 

"It's not without conditions," Yoongi cautioned him but Jungkook didn't care, nodding along happily. "You have to promise not to forego our sessions each week, no matter how busy you get. No using work as an excuse, okay?" 

Jungkook nodded like a little puppy. 

"And I'm putting you on a diet - a healthy one - and you'll do your best to follow it."

Another nod. 

"And," Yoongi looked at him intensely for what he said next. "I expect this to be a reasonable way to gain your trust in me. From next week, let's start talking about the real problems, alright?"

Jungkook froze. Of course there would be a catch.  

"Jungkook," Yoongi said soothingly. "It's high time you start healing and I can help you do that," he said earnestly. "All you have to do is trust me. Do you think you can do that?" 

Could he? 

Could he finally put his trust in someone and let them help him? 

A final nod. 

"I will," he said. "I promise." 

… 

The first person he went to as soon as he got things cleared was Hoseok, dashing to the top floor, eager to wave his new permits in front of him. 

He paused, however, when he heard muted shouting from beyond the doors. 

"I'm not sending any more of my students near that man! You do with him what you will but nobody needs to be subjected to that monster -" 

"This is literally your job!" Hoseok's voice came through the door, muted but the fury in full force. "You knew what you were getting into!" 

"And now they want out! This is an impossible task! Not at the risk of their sanity!" 

He only heard bits and pieces of the conversation which followed after that:

"-deadly-" 

"-ne more ti-" 

"-roub-" 

The door crashed open and Jungkook jumped away, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. He bowed politely at both men but the latter barely acknowledged him, striding away angrily. It was only Hoseok who looked at him sadly. 

"Um..maybe this isn't a good time," he said warily but thankfully, the lines on Hoseok's face eased up. 

"Don't worry," he sat down heavily on his armchair. "It's my fault for expecting things to work."

"Is this..is this about someone in particular?" Jungkook asked carefully, not wanting to sound too excited. 

Hoseok laughed emptily. "Not just someone, literally the one person your entire program was created for, but what use is it if nobody wants to talk to him?" 

"I can try," Jungkook said quickly, not thinking the words before he said them out loud, ignoring the shell shocked look Hoseok was giving him. 

"I mean, this is what I'm here for, isn't it? To um..talk to your more difficult patients?" 

Jungkook didn't know why he was so hell bent on going for this, heck, he'd heard it firsthand that this wasn't someone to be trifled with. This wasn't someone who he could casually approach. 

Perhaps it was the allure of being needed. Of being useful. A burning desire to prove himself capable and competent, to prove to the world and himself that he was here because of his intelligence and skill and not just some gift chanced by birth. 

"I don't think that's a good idea, Jungkook. You're new here, it's barely been a few weeks. I'm not throwing someone like you into the lion's den."

"Someone like me?"

Jungkook was furious. And just the tiniest bit terrified as well. He resisted the urge to check if his scent was still concealed, if that's why he was being turned away. Otherwise what the hell was that supposed to mean? 

Hoseok didn't backtrack. "You know what I mean," he waved a hand dismissively, none of the earlier subtle encouragement on his voice anymore. He was harsher now. 

"Someone like you: your reputation precedes you, yes, but even with all your skill and talent, you're… delicate. You're the kind of lithe little boy that the likes of Kim Namjoon eats for breakfast." 

Kim Namjoon. 

It was the first time he heard the name of the person and he shuddered internally. The very name had an aura to it - something that sent chills up his spine. 

But Jungkook was never the kind to back down. 

"Why did you hire me then? Offer me the job all the way from New York? Because all I've done since I came here was stay holed up in the library and sort through the archives! What's the point of you paying me all this money when you're not using me?" 

Hoseok fell silent, contemplating him in silence. For a minute. 

Then five. 

Then ten. 

Jungkook was unable to say anything, too scared to break the silence after his little outburst. 

Oh god, this was the director of an entire organization. He could be fired off for mouthing off his superiors this way! What was he thinking?! 

Just as he was about to start spewing out apologies - 

"You're right."

Huh? 

"I didn't want to make it sound like you're incapable or something, that's the last thing I wanted to do."

It was the closest thing to an apology he could expect and he gave a half nod. 

"That being said," Hoseok started slowly, voice wavering, "I can't help but warn you before you go ahead with this." 

Jungkook's heart started to beat faster, a strange sort of anticipation bubbling in his chest. 

"What do you know about Kim Namjoon?" 

… 

Jungkook, for all his catching up, didn't know a single thing about Kim Namjoon. 

"I don't blame you," Hoseok told him when he admitted to his ignorance. "Most of our files on him are classified." 

"Is he really a um… " Jungkook didn't want to use the word criminal, but he didn't know how else to put it. 

"Kim Namjoon is, and I'm not exaggerating, rumored to be Seoul's most wanted outlaw."

He spoke so casually that Jungkook had to pause and replay it in his mind. What kind of mess was he getting wound up in? 

"What did he..what did he do?" 

Jungkook was almost scared to ask, horrifying thoughts of murder and blood and torture flashing through his mind but he pushed them aside. This wasn't Scarface. This was probably a real person who was sick and needed help. 

"Well," Hoseok clicked his tongue. "To be honest, nobody can prove whether he's actually done anything." 

Okay, now Jungkook was just confused. 

"But..but you said he's been in a secure facility for the last three years. On what grounds are they keeping him locked up?" 

Hoseok sighed. "That's the root of the problem, isn't it?" He stood up and started to pace the room. "Three years ago, Kim Namjoon was found at a scene of crime. It was a complete surprise for all of the police personnel there - the man's had a squeaky clean record - on paper. He probably doesn't even have a parking ticket to his name. So imagine everyone's surprise when he's found alone, wandering around a crime scene and comes willingly for questioning. The state thought they hit the jackpot." 

"Did they manage to get him for anything?"

"No, absolutely nothing. Three years of brutal interrogation but nothing. We don't even know where the man really lives, for God's sake." 

"Then why is he still in Solitary?" 

The man probably had incredibly powerful lawyers who should have managed to get him out by now. Why was he still here? 

Hoseok paused for a moment, rapping his fingers on the corner of the desk. 

"What do you know about feral alphas?" 

Jungkook blinked. He didn't expect the turn this conversation had just taken. 

"They're incredibly dangerous," he recited. "To themselves and to society in general. The state reserves the right to maintain them in seclusion for as long as they think is necessary until they're confirmed not to be a threat but for all the danger they present," he glanced at Hoseok, "they're extremely rare." Jungkook wasn't lying. It took an extraordinarily significant trauma to turn an alpha feral, it wasn't something that happened everyday. 

"That just about sums it up. Three years ago, when Namjoon was brought in, he was completely wild. Completely feral. His own kin couldn't get him under control. It was the perfect excuse to keep him with us."

It took Jungkook a while to understand where this was going and he gasped in indignation. 

"And you..you took advantage of that," he said, tone accusatory. "You used the excuse that he was unfit for society to keep him locked up so you could continue your investigation!"

Hoseok's stony gaze was enough to understand the state of things. 

"That's illegal!" Jungkook yelled. "You can't…can't keep someone shut in just to further your purposes!"

"You don't understand," Hoseok defended. "The state has been looking for an opportunity like this for years. An excuse to get him to confess to something - anything ! This man is maybe one of the most dangerous criminals to exist."

"Exactly," Jungkook bit out. "It's maybe. You have no proof he's actually done anything . So right now, he's just hurting. Did you even try to help him get better?" 

Hoseok shifted his gaze. "We think the possibility of him slipping up is higher in his current state." 

Jungkook's heart went out to the man. He was horrified. Criminal or not, no alpha deserved to live under the constant stress of those kinds of pheromones. 

"You're sick," he spat out. "Taking advantage of his weaknesses this way. Is this why I was given this job? To wriggle out information which may not even be there in the first place?" He asked, realization creeping in. God, he should have understood sooner: the ridiculous salary, the kind, sweet words he received at the start, the way everyone seemed to hate him at first, that godforsaken NDA and for what? To cajole information out of someone? He was a doctor, not some undercover agent. 

"We've tried to have all sorts of  people approach him: profilers, therapists, psychiatrists… Well, he hasn't spoken a word to anyone else all those years, he's stubbornly silent for someone who's supposed to be raving mad and he has an odd effect on people - nobody can seem to survive a room with him for more than a few weeks." 

"What makes you think I can do it?" 

"I don't think you can do it," Hoseok reminded him. "You were the one who was so insistent to go ahead with it."

That was true, wasn't it?

Jungkook cursed himself for his rotten luck. He should have just taken a gap year like Tae had told him to. This very moment, they could have been backpacking their way happily across Europe. 

"Just try to speak to him," Hoseok bargained. "At this point, it's progress if he even says a word. We'll glean whatever we can if you can get us a statement - hell, any statement. Right now, I'd consider it a small miracle if he tells you what color he likes, that's how desperate I am." 

Seeing Jungkook's ethical dilemma, Hoseok tried again. "You can try to help him out of it if you want," he approved. "If you really want to try and help him, I have no objections. Just try and get us some useful information as well." 

… 

If it wasn't completely confidential information, he would have called Tae and told him all about it - how his job was less about healing and more or an intervention. It pissed him off but there was little he could do about it. Contracts had been signed, money had exchanged hands and secrets shared. Even if he wanted to leave this job, he couldn't. 

The morning he was supposed to meet Kim Namjoon for the first time, he wasn't nervous at all. Maybe he should have been - the man had rumors following him like a pesky nickname. But there was something about him - something bruised and vulnerable that his instincts sought to soothe. Something which made him fall back into his baser instincts and just sought to heal. 

The holding cell was located in an unknown location. Jungkook called it unknown because he'd been shuttled into a black Audi and kept in darkness the whole ride. The windows were blacked out and loud music played in the car the whole time. Frankly, he should have been more scared than he really was. 

It took forty-five minutes? An hour? 

He lost track of time as the car slowed to a stop, turning into a high rise complex which looked like any normal cluster of apartments. He looked around and it was a relatively normal suburb, if not a little high maintenance - with soccer moms chauffeuring their kids to school in the evening and parents pushing strollers along the side of the road. Is this really where they were hiding what they called the biggest criminal ever? 

He was led to the front, the ding of the elevator jerking him to alertness and he stepped in with the rest of his posse. Contrary to his expectations, they started to go downwards instead of up, further into the basement and then to the parking level. The rest of the people got off, leaving them alone and just as the elevator doors started to close, one of the men with him got out a small key and began to fiddle with the broken button at the bottom of the panel that Jungkook had assumed worked the fan. He barely held in his gasp when the button glowed a bright red, jerking them downwards further into a sublevel that wasn't there on the panel 

What kind of secret agent stuff was this? 

All he could think of was that Tae would be so jealous if he ever told him about this. 

Jungkook shivered as the air got colder. When he stepped out, he was, quite anticlimactically, treated to the sight of a basic reception table and a lone guard scrolling through his phone. 

"Deposit all your stuff in this," he said robotically, pushing a red paper bin in his direction like he did this a hundred times a day. "Pens, paper, your phone, recording devices or anything else before you step through the detector." 

"Um… I'm a doctor," he explained. "I will need something to write with in there."

But his appeals were ignored at point blank. "Fat lot of good any of that'll do," he scowled. "Man doesn't talk at all, from what I hear."

And he laughed. It was such a mocking, disgusting sound that Jungkook wanted to throw something at him but he resisted the urge. He didn't want to end up somewhere like this as well. 

"You get an hour," he heard as he walked on. "Any later than that and someone'll come get you. And oh! Whatever you do, don't touch the glass!" 

The glass? 

Jungkook ignored the call, striding ahead with all sorts of half-thoughts in his head. He'd try to formulate a greeting first, he decided. Everyone deserved to be greeted politely, at the very least. He'd maybe start slow today? Talk about the weather maybe? It didn't matter if he didn't receive a response, he decided. He'd fill the silence with chatter. 

As he turned the corner, the space started to become wider and wider, gradually leading into a giant atrium separated from his point of entry by a thin, transparent layer of fine glass. The space was huge, tunneling away into different rooms by the side. It was the kind of luxury home you'd find in the heart of the city - only ten feet below ground. His lawyers may not have been able to get him out but they sure had managed to make his stay comfortable. It even had amenities that he himself lacked - state of the art gym equipment, an entire bookshelf full of paperbacks and he caught the slightest hint of empty canvases and paints. 

The sound of footsteps redirected his attention and he gasped. 

Not because the man who'd appeared in front of him was nowhere close to the haggard alpha he'd imagined, snarling and in the throes of a rage. If anything, he was the complete opposite - dressed in comfortable high quality wools, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his nose as he stood up slowly, predatory, snapping the book in his hand shut. 

No, not because the man had his heart beating faster than a hummingbird's, sweat smearing his palms. 

Not because of those dark red eyes or that jet black hair or those tree trunk thighs. 

Not because of the pure sardonic smile he flashed him. 

No, it wasn't any of that. 

It was the scent. The scent that permeated the entire room the moment he walked in. 

The scent of begonias. 

…

Chapter Text

I dream of you (almost every night) 

Jungkook remembered it like it was yesterday.  

"I don't think I'll ever get used to looking at the wall without that poster."

Jungkook turned to see Jimin leaning against the doorway, gazing at the now blank wall as he let out a little sigh. 

Jungkook stopped trying to stuff another hardbound onto his already close-to-bursting suitcase and fixed him with an incredulous look. 

"You hated that poster though," he reminded Jimin. "You tried to tear it down at least a dozen times!"

It was true. Back when they were middle schoolers who shared a room, Jimin hated his wall length  naruto poster with a passion - said it diminished the aura of the room. Pretty big words for a barely hundred pound kid whose definition of an aura was pastel pink glow lights for an aesthetic, he figured. Jimin had been going through his dance obsessed phase and wanted a more cinematic picture on their wall. He remembered the fist fight that followed when Jungkook sassed back at him - telling him that he was probably just jealous that a fictional character received more of his brother's love than him. 

Ahh, good times. 

"I guess it grew on me," Jimin's tone grew wistful as he spread his hands out over Jungkook's sheets - slowly, like he was trying to absorb the very scent of them into his hands. 

"Well, think of it as a good thing," Jungkook tried to say optimistically, not wanting things to turn so sad so fast. 

Not yet, at least. 

"Now you'll get to put up all those prissy pictures of the nutcracker like you'd wanted to." 

Jimin gave him a sad smile. "I outgrew those a long time ago Ggukie. I had to."

Jungkook went back to packing, pretending to zip the bags up and do last minute checks when in reality, he was trying not to cry. Thankfully, he was distracted by his mother's voice, who'd just decided to walk in. 

"Jungkook, you're all packed? Already?" 

He tried not to notice the way Jimin's fists clenched up tight to the side. 

"Yeah, I just have to box up all my books now."

She sat down next to him, clutching his hands gently. 

"Jungkook-ah.." 

And he knew what was coming.

"Listen sweetheart, you don't have to go all the way to Seoul you know. I know you probably feel like I'm nagging you but you can still reconsider."

"Eomma, we've talked about this already," he said, drawing his hands away. 

About a million times. 

He tried to keep his voice even as he continued, knowing his parents only had his best interests at heart. Ever since he'd presented as an omega, they'd become very much protective of him, oddly concerned over the slightest of things. 

"I got a full ride to the medical program in Seoul. Three years of tuition and board completely paid. It's silly to give that up just because you're worried something will happen to me and you won't be there."

"But there are plenty of good schools in Busan too!" She said, hedging up the same old drama again.  "And if you're worried about the money, we can pay for it - "

She was interrupted by Jimin's scoff in the background and she leaned back to assess him critically. 

"Can you?" he asked, voice hard. 

Jungkook flinched. He knew Jimin was referring to the fact that they were going through…financial troubles, but really! He could be a little more subtle about it. 

"Well, I know that money is a little tight right now but," she said optimistically, "we have big plans for you Jungkookie. I'm sure we can arrange something right here at home." 

She pinched his cheeks sweetly and looked at the two of them lovingly "It's always sweet to see you two getting along. Jungkookie is so lucky to have you Jimin-ah." 

"I asked you not to call me that," Jimin said, voice slashing through her attempts at patronizing them and the smile slid right off her face. 

"Of course," she got up quickly, flustered. "I'll..I'll be downstairs Jungkookie, if you need help with anything." 

He heard her footsteps fade out before he turned on Jimin. 

"You could've been nicer," he accused. 

"She should know what to expect from me by now," Jimin shrugged his shoulders. "Besides," he murmured. "Soon, she won't have to deal with me anymore."

Jungkook squinted his eyes at him.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not the only one moving," Jimin revealed, eyes shifting from his. 

Jungkook frowned. A few months ago, Jimin had quit his job all of a sudden, much to his surprise. He'd up and moved everything in the span of one week, working weekends in Daegu for an elusive new agency he'd signed onto, working from home the rest of his days. 

'They're flexible work hours,' Jimin had argued. 'It pays great, the apartment's fully paid for and best of all, nobody monitors my laptop all day long. It sounds like a dream!' 

'What it sounds like is work fraud,' Jungkook had rebutted over the phone at two am when he was supposed to be cramming for a test. 'It sounds sketchy as hell, hyung.' 

Jungkook couldn't argue much now, considering that Jimin had stuck to it for months now and he seemed to be flourishing. Considering the string of jobs he'd quit out of sheer boredom, his wicked fast skills wasted on manual labor, he'd been more than happy to see him put down his roots somewhere. 

Even if that somewhere happened to be so far away from home. 

"Well, you'll just have to come visit me often then," he compromised, trying to adjust to the fact that home wouldn't mean the same anymore. 

Jimin's smile disappeared, face glooming over but he bounced back to his cheerful, energetic self so fast that Jungkook wondered if it had ever been there in the first place. 

"Sure," he promised, though it felt like his heart wasn't really in it. "Speaking of which," he reached into the back pocket of his jeans, "I have something for you." 

He drew out a gold chain with a rectangular locket dangling from its end and handed it over to Jungkook. 

"A little going away present," he added causally, as if he didn't just hand him something so exotic. 

Jungkook gasped at it, curling his fingers around the cool metal. "They must be paying you really well," he blurted out, making Jimin laugh. "What happened to the Park Jimin who refused to even share his candy with me?" 

"He grew up," Jimin said simply, kicking his legs up. "Maybe he realized that it made him happier watching his little brother have it instead."

Jungkook swore he teared up a bit. Just a little bit, because if Jimin saw, he'd tease him to death about it. 

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Jimin urged him. "Open it!"

Jungkook looked down curiously. He hadn't noticed, but the locket opened to show a three way spread out holding three pictures: one of him in the middle and his parents surrounding him. 

"Jimin hyung, thank you," he whispered. "I'll always treasure this. But why..where's your picture?" 

Jimin waved him off. "You have tons of cringey pictures of me on your phone," he said half-heartedly, standing up and stretching languidly.  He changed the topic. "Do you need help packing? I'm free for the day."

Together, they gathered up what was remaining of Jungkook's possessions, placing them in their respective boxes. It was tiresome work, but Jungkook appreciated the help as they moved in silence. 

"Well," he said after they finished up. "I guess that's it then." He turned to thank Jimin when he was accosted by a mop of blonde hair nuzzling into his neck and he froze. 

Jimin never hugged him. 

'I don't want to stink of flowers,' he used to complain, when he'd refused his hugs playfully after Jungkook presented. He already felt insecure about having a relatively floral scent. It was a point of consternation for him in the beginning but later, Jungkook realized that the older was actually trying to be considerate towards him, not overwhelming his new omega with a barrage of new scents though he would have never denied him. 

"What happened to smelling like a flower shop?" Jungkook asked, voice shaky. 

He heard a light sniffle at his neck. "I don't mind it anymore," Jimin's voice was muffled, slow and he gripped Jungkook's waist tighter and that's when Jungkook felt a frisson of alarm. 

"Hey," Jungkook said. "I'm not disappearing forever! You can visit me whenever you want. You don't need to act like this is the last time you'll see me."

"Of course," Jimin murmured, but his voice was still breathless and shaky, hands not letting go and Jungkook let it be, his own hands coming to rest on Jimin's back as they swayed slightly. 

"You can't come back," Jimin said suddenly and his tone made him stand up straight, look at his red rimmed eyes. It was frantic and hurried, like he was warning him instead of just saying it. 

"Hyung, what're you saying?"

Jimin flushed, the tint of his cheeks matching the bright red of his nose. "I just..I just meant that you should focus on yourself Ggukie. Don't worry about this place, or your parents and their debt. Just run away to Seoul," he said hurriedly, like the words were dying to escape him. "Run away to Seoul and live your life there, never look back after tonight." 

It was an odd way to put it. He knew Jimin hated it when he tried to cover for his parents' incompetencies, urging him to put himself first despite their love for him. It wasn't strange coming from Jimin, this little outburst, but the way he'd said it - so frazzled and bursting with random spurts of energy - made him jittery. 

"Is everything alright hyung?" 

Jimin blinked at him, settling against his hold. For a moment. Then two. He put his chin on Jungkook's shoulder, whispering into his clothes. 

"I just don't want you being dragged down by anything Ggukie. You've worked so hard to get this far and I don't want anything to get in the way of that." 

It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Jungkook but he let it go. Emotions were high all around and he didn't want to push. 

"At least stay with me until this evening?" He asked instead. 

"Of course."

They spent the evening in the kind of forlorn silence that usually preceeded painful goodbyes. A sort of frantic worry thinking about what they could spend their time doing to make the last day worth it - which usually ended up resulting in no action of consequence at all. Merely half brushed ideas and desperate attempts to make a memory - any memory. But in the future, the emptiness of the last day would be the one which be remembered the most. The way they simply existed, simply remained - it was more than he could say he had now. 

At twilight, he remembered rolling out the door with his luggage, being hugged and kissed goodbye by his parents. But most of all he remembered everything Jimin did. And everything he did not. He didn't come with him to the airport. He didn't give him that last hug goodbye. He didn't tease him. He didn't. 

Jungkook tried not to let it get to him. They would see each other soon enough. There were weekends and holidays and semester breaks! He'd just pout at him about it then. 

The ride was so silent it was starting to get boring and he reached into his knapsack to grab his airpods, groaning out loud when he realized he'd forgotten then back home. Eyes twitching, he jogged his memory to see of he'd managed to forget  anything else in the midst of everything, content to see his laptop and his accessories. 

And his suppressants, he patted around his neck to feel for them, relaxing when he felt the skin-thin patch. 

But something was missing. 

He gasped out loud, fingers wrapping loosely around his own neck as if he could conjure the gold he'd been gifted out of thin air. 

"You have to turn back!" He yelled out, making the driver give him a rotten side eye. 

"We're ten minutes to the airport," he said in a clearly disgruntled tone. 

"I'll pay extra," he negotiated. "Just take me back, please." 

There was a pretty good chance he'd miss his flight but a cold rush gripped him when he'd realized he'd forgotten something so important to him. He was being stupid. 

stupid, stupid, stupid 

He could get it the next time he came back. The next time his family visited. Heck, he could get it delivered if he was that desperate but there was something so morose about how his omega was whining deep in his chest. Something plaintive and keen and eerily wanton. It was probably just the jitters of being apart for the first time, he tried to comfort himself. His omega had probably just latched on to the closest connection be had to the jasmines he'd come to miss. Whatever it was, it was a powerful instinct. 

And he was never one to ignore one of those. 

The neighborhood was familiarly silent as they drove back in, street lights flickering in the driveway. He rushed out, almost tripping on the gravel, leaving his luggage behind. 

"It'll only be a minute," he pleaded. And he meant it. The rest of the house was probably asleep. He'd just grab what he needed and walk out. No use in causing a ruckus. 

He opened the door with his spare key and darted up the stairs leading to the second floor, softly clicking open the door to his room, not bothering to turn on the lights. Was it just him or was it hotter than usual? The thin strip of brightness from the hallway was enough to let him shuffle his way to the vanity without stumbling into anything on the way and it was right there: lying innocuously on the chipped wood, chain dangling all the way to the floor. 

He scooped it up and clasped it around his neck, tip-toeing out just as quietly as he'd come in, gently shutting the door behind him. Taking the stairs down by two, he paused on the first floor, peeking into the entrance of his parents room. Just a glance wouldn't hurt, would it? Just one look. 

He floated ahead, frowning slightly when he saw the door slightly ajar already. It creaked when he pulled it open slowly and he winced at the sound, worried he'd wake them when it was the last thing he wanted to do. Thankfully, it wasn't enough to wake them. But turns out, he'd been too grateful too soon. 

On his way out, his arm caught on the handle of the vase at the doorway and his attempts to stabilize things proved to be futile. Worse, he ended up bringing down the whole vase and the glass bowl full of marbles crashing to the floor, the glass and ceramic shattering to pieces, marbles rolling all across the floor. He winced at the ear-shattering sound, fully ready to apologize for sneaking in like a burglar in the middle of the night. 

But they still didn't wake. 

Jungkook frowned. His parents were deep sleepers but it wasn't this bad. He inched closer but froze in his footsteps. 

He knew what blood smelt like. He could make out the difference between a paper cut and a heavier injury from scent alone. 

And this was no paper cut. 

He didn't bother with quiet anymore, rushing over and throwing aside the duvet, a strangled scream leaving his throat at the sight which befell him. 

They lay so still next to each other, pale throats arched gracefully towards him as he stared into unblinking eyes. And he could pretend it was normal - that everything was alright - if not for the steady stream of blood making its way down, identical dark reds blotting their their skin. Vaguely, he heard the horn of a car in the distance. The cab driver, he remembered, who was waiting for him. But it was drowned by another sound - infinitely more agonized, sharp and piercing. A call of distress. To whom? It went on and on, high pitched wails echoing through the night, punctuated by aching, gasping breaths. 

It took him a long time to realize they were coming from him. 

Forcing himself to lurch out of his terror, he dragged himself forwards, fingers fumbling around her ice cold skin as he tried to feel any semblance of a fluttering pulse but he couldn't. No matter how hard his fingers etched into the skin, he couldn't feel the tell tale ebb and flow of life. Rationally, he'd known he was setting himself up for more grief at the start: their skin was too cold, too tight for him to have hoped for a miracle. Rationally, he should have realized. 

But hope and despair were rarely ever rational. 

His omega was crashing. Breaking down inside and he knew he had to get a hold of himself if he had any intention of understanding what was happening. As much as it pained him, he closed his eyes and tried to walk out of the room in shaky feet, distantly wondering why nobody had come to his aid and then he remembered. 

Jimin. 

Swirling around, he took off towards the hallway in abject panic, jasmine and blonde the only two things running through his head. 

He was fine. He was fine. He was fine. He was fine. 

It wasn't with any sort of assurance that he thought this way. It was a desperate attempt to manifest a future where he wouldn't have to see anything so horrifying ever again. If he said it enough, maybe - just maybe - he could make it so that it was true. 

Jimin had to be unhurt. The only reason he hadn't come to him was because he didn't know he was here. It was what he forced himself to believe. Because Jimin had to be alright. There was no other alternative which he could accept. 

He darted back to the top of the stairs, stumbling on the top step before righting himself. He was struggling to move, the tears blinding him and cutting off his will to fucking make it a single step. But he still persisted. He stumbled past the banisters, his throat aching from the tears he was struggling to hold back, tugging at the collar which seemed to be suffocating him, his eyes burning. 

Even the room seemed to spin around him, the air blurry in a way. 

He saw a flicker of movement coming from the room in the far corner, a hint of orange and he laughed brokenly in relief. He was fine. He was fine. He was fine. He was - 

It wasn't Jimin. 

Instead, he was confronted with flames. 

… 

Reds and orange and blazing yellow. 

He stumbled back in fright, his mind struggling to catch up to the situation. Self preservation dominated and he turned back, racing past the hall in a rush to make it down the stairs when he came to a hard stop. 

Fire had spread faster than the fear in his heart. 

The very same room he'd come out of was engulfed in an inferno and he wailed in despair, covering his hand with his mouth. He looked around in abject confusion in sheer terror. He didn't know what was going on - he didn't have the mental capacity to process the possibility of murder and whatever was going on, all at once. 

Still, his body did. 

Sheer instinct forced him to rush down the stairs, hissing in pain when he touched the railing by accident. He cradled his arms close, walking into the lobby with watery eyes and almost sank to his knees, despondent at the sight which met his eyes. 

There wasn't an inch of the house left untouched here. 

The wallpaper was peeling at the corners, most of it black and charred already, dry soot covering the wall and tiny little specks floating in the air, carried by the flames. The carpeted portion of the floor was engulfed by the flames, leaving very little space untouched by it. It was the wood which was responsible for most of it, Jungkook realized distantly. All those antiques - all those vintage woodworks - now a broken, twisted mess which served nothing more than conduits for the flames to spread even further, curling higher and higher up the heavy, satin drapes and even in this situation, Jungkook wanted to laugh hysterically. All this grandeur, all this ornate splendor - and for what? The last thing he'd see as he died would probably be the looking face of a boring old grandfather clock in the corner - cracking, crashing - just like he was. 

Jungkook forced himself to conjure up something - anything - that could help him. He knew, logically, that if he wanted to have any chance of making it out alive, he had to find a way out. And fast. 

He scanned the area, covering his face as he worked his way backwards up the stairs. He needed to find a room untouched by the fire. 

Just one room. 

But wherever he looked, it was a nightmare. He had to rush past the chunks of falling drywall as he ascended the flight of stairs, body slamming into doors which refused to budge. And with each step, his resolve continued to break. 

His throat felt like it was packed with soot, body burning up. He succumbed to a hacking cough so strong he was almost brought down to his knees and the worst of it was the smoke. People assumed what killed people in a fire was the heat - the burns. But it was the smoke which was actually the main culprit. Thick, black plumes of smoke - suffocating him, clouding his vision to the point where he was making his way down the hall by sheer will of memory, hands tracing across the rough walls to guide him. He was starting to feel light headed and he knew he didn't have much time left until his body gave up on him. Weakly, he shoved the last door at the end of the aisle and fell through, falling to his feet. 

He almost cried in relief at the sight of a clean, untouched room and his muddled mind finally recognized it as Jimin's. It was ironic. Jimin protecting him when he wasn't even here. Gathering all the strength he had left, he staggered to the window and tried to push it open. 

It didn't budge. 

He tried harder, ugly crying as his fingers bled out beneath him, splinters cutting into his skin. In a fit of desperation, he reached out for the nearest thing he could get his hands on and started to bash at the glass, sobs leaving his blistered lips when his efforts didn't even leave a dent on the windowpane. It took his smoke-addled mind a moment to remember why. 

'Bulletproof glass,' his father had proudly said. 'Only the best to protect my boys!' 

Jungkook sank to the floor on his side, hands bringing up his knees to his chin as he rocked himself slowly, not even able to cry anymore, only harsh, hot gasps leaving his bleeding lips, unable to keep his eyes open anymore. It wouldn't be the worst way to go, he thought. Surrounded by Jimin's things in his older brother's room. Like being hugged by a familiar soul, he tried to convince his terrified self. 

If he had any more strength left in his body, he would have tried to move, to search, to survive. But his mind was broken, and what use was an able body if he had no will to move it? His parents were gone. Jimin was probably dead, he thought brokenly. Why did he deserve to go on? The thoughts consumed him as he drifted in and out of consciousness, thoughts of his brother the last thing on his mind - his smile, his terrible attempts to tease him, his love. He must have been so far gone that he started to imagine his scent wafting out to him - faint floral and be smiled wistfully until some part of his brain sat up in alert. 

Those weren't jasmines. 

He couldn't open his eyes nor could he call out but he could smell something sharp, something distressed. A citrusy sort of bloom but also the faintest hint of spice that was getting stronger and stronger. It took him a while to place the scent and -

Oh, he thought tiredly.

Begonias.

He heard the dull thud of footsteps coming closer and he wanted to sit up, to take notice but all he could do was shudder in pain. He wondered if he was hallucinating, a last ditch effort to make himself feel like he had some semblance of hope but miraculously, he felt strong hands start to cradle his head and he instinctively moved closer, his omega yowling inside of him. The other man pushed his hair back, a broken gasp leaving his lips and Jungkook wanted to soothe him. Why was he upset? He tried to reach out but his arms were leaden, heavy and painful. 

"Shh," a soft voice hushed him. So close. Too close.

He shuffled a little bit and Jungkook panicked, clutching his thighs with all the strength he could muster. 

"Stay," he pleaded. 

If he was going to die, he wanted this last bit of human connect. The last bit of peace he could offer his omega.

"I will," a deep voice replied. 

"I promise." 

The last thing Jungkook remembered was a thick something covering his body, a light touch to his neck and then -

Silence.

…

When Jungkook came to, it was to the familiar sound of a hospital monitor, the rhythmical beeping making him groan out loud as he struggled to move his jelly-like limbs. 

He was sore everywhere - like his body had taken a rough beating. He tried to open his eyes and immediately regretted it when he was assaulted with the bright glare of the tubelights above his head, instantly plopping back onto his pillow. Out the corner of his eye, he saw a nurse straightening out equipment on the other side of the room and he opened his mouth to speak but  gasped in pain when all he could feel was the burn in his throat - like it was pierced by shards of glass. 

The nurse turned at the sound, pushing a button on his bedside and rushing over to him. "Don't try to talk. Please, you'll only hurt yourself. I'll let the doctors know you're awake."

Jungkook obeyed instantly, swallowing tightly and wincing at the sharp pain it caused. A few moments later, two men walked in. 

They weren't doctors. 

One of them, Jungkook recognized very well. He was the police officer in charge of their county, familiar with his parents and right now, he had a somber expression on his face. He dragged over a chair and sat down next to Jungkook, looking at him pitifully. 

"Jungkook-ah," he began with a tired sigh and every memory from before he'd collapsed slammed into his head. 

His parents. Dead. 

Blood. 

The fire. 

He cried out instantly, phantom pain of heat and smoke assaulting him, gripping for the sheets and the heart monitor went crazy. 

"Jungkook, you need to calm down!" 

A heavy hand brushed against his back and he took deep, aching breaths, hot tears sliding down his cheeks. 

"J..J…Jimin?" 

His voice came out croaky, all wound up and exhausted but he didn't care how much it hurt him. He needed answers. 

"We searched the place after the fire was put out,  the man informed him factually.  We couldn't find a body Jungkook-ah. I'm sorry."

Oh. 

Jungkook had assumed as much but to hear it - to actually hear the words out loud was… he couldn't break down. Not now. 

"M..my p..parents?"

 We're looking into it. A case has already been filed and the investigation's off to a strong start," he reassured him." And we have strong reason to believe that the fire was no accident either." 

Jungkook looked down, scared to the bone. He knew his parents had…people who didn't like them. They were very successful business men and it was easy to attract envy, especially since they weren't very subtle about it. But a shameful part of Jungkook was far more interested in knowing about something else. 

"An..and t..th..the m…m…man?" 

This time, the officer looked at him, puzzled. "The first responders reported that they found you passed out in front of the house - alone. There was no other person there. 

Jungkook's eyebrows shot up, fingers instinctively tightening on the fleece coat in his arms. 

He was being lied to. 

But he didn't say anything else. This wasn't the time. He didn't want to alienate the person who was trying to help him. 

The man got up, placing a coffee cup on the bedside table, looking at him empathetically. "I'm really sorry for what happened, kid," he said. "You didn't deserve this. It's some shitty luck," he shook his shaggy hair despondently. "I need to get going though," he tapped his watch. "Technically, I haven't clocked out yet. But we'll get to the bottom of this," he promised. "Take care Jungkook-ah. I'll send someone over this evening to take your statement." 

He stood up, hands in his pockets as he strolled out, leaving Jungkook alone with his pain and his sorrow and his misery. 

"Um.."

It was only then that Jungkook noticed the other person in the room, the one who'd accompanied the former. It was a young boy with shaggy hair, probably younger than Jungkook himself, clutching a clipboard in his hand. Probably one of the recruits in training at the police academy. He was staring at Jungkook curiously, like he wanted to tell him something.  

"I'm sorry for your loss," he said at last, softly. "Please take care of yourself Jungkook-ssi."

Then he left. 

… 

And Jungkook lost everything. 

After he'd been discharged from the hospital, all he wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep. 

Preferably for the rest of his life. 

But he soon realized that it was a luxury he couldn't afford. 

Jungkook quickly realized that his parents had not only left their memories behind for him to grieve, but also a vast amount of debt. The moment he trudged back into his house, he was assaulted with weeks and weeks of unaccounted for letters by the banks, the businesses, and their friends. 

None of them were kind. 

He was drowned in falsely polite phone calls calling to give their condolences, which more often than not ended with subtle warnings. And Jungkook had absolutely no idea how to go about it. He was a doctor. Not a businessman. He barely had the energy left to scrape up the energy to pull together a hasty funeral, the only attendees being his departed parent's acquaintances and business partners. He had no other family to speak of. 

And the ones who came were not happy. 

He didn't blame them. He'd be furious too, maybe, if he lost out on millions which could never be recovered. The insurance from their death; after the money was used for the funeral and the last rites, was a pittance. He was, in all honesty, broke beyond belief. Fortunately, one of his friends from school offered to let him stay with him until he was able to get a new roof over his head. 

The investigation was going nowhere. No active leads. No prime suspects. No real results. And the officials were subtly trying to wrap it up, he realized. After the news frenzy around it died down, he saw less and less police personnel on the grounds, more and more busybodies lurking around instead. 

His dreams of a big career in a big city were slashed as well. The few weeks he'd spent mourning his life were enough to lose his scholarship and trying to apply again without one was laughable at best when he barely had the money to find an apartment. 

He'd never realized just how much he depended on his parents financially. 

He needed to get a job. An apprenticeship. Something. He couldn't stay at Lee's place forever. A job wouldn't take care of all his issues at once but it'd be a start. It broke his heart, that he couldn't study what he was passionate about, that he couldn't further his career the way he'd wanted to but then again, he gritted his teeth, he was learning that he couldn't get everything he wanted in life. 

… 

In the midst of everything: the failing investigation, the hateful acquaintances and the grueling night job he'd managed to find; in the midst of everything - came Kim Seokjin. 

He walked into Jungkook's life like a breath of fresh air, decked in an ostentatious baby blue suit and violet sunglasses that covered the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. 

And he brought along with him a silver lining, a proposition and the sheer goddamn audacity . 

"I'm your lawyer," he announced, walking into Jungkook's workplace one evening, causing all the nurses to look at him and titter. 

Jungkook glared at him tiredly, scrubs covered in all sorts of bodily fluids, eyes almost closing on his feet. 

"I don't have a lawyer," he maintained. Because he knew he couldn't afford Kim Seokjin even if he sold both his kidneys. 

"Your parent's lawyer then," Seokjin said dismissively. "Semantics, honey." 

"My parents didn't have a lawyer," Jungkook refuted. If they did, he wouldn't be trapped in this mess. 

"Well, now they do!" And Seokjin pulled out a bulging file filled with all sorts of official documents and placed it in front of Jungkook. 

"What is this?" 

"Settlements," he offered. "Saying that all your parents' debts are paid off."

And it was such a marvelous thing to be true that Jungkook scoffed. "Okay, I don't know who you are but you need to leave," he said harshly. "This place has enough things to do without entertaining pranks." 

Because this wouldn't be the first time he was jeered and scowled at. Who knew what this man wanted to accomplish? 

The other man frowned and removed his glasses, the piercing stare of soft brown eyes full force into his. 

"My name," he began carefully, none of the earlier humor left in his voice, "is Kim Seokjin. And your life isn't a prank to me." 

Jungkook shivered under the intensity of his glare but straightened up. "Why'd it take you so long to get in touch with me then? It's been weeks since they died," he asked, tone accusatory. 

"Not everyone at my firm is comfortable with representing you or your late family, Jungkook-ssi. I'm sure you know the…reputation they've left behind." 

Jungkook flinched at the reality check. 

"And how did this -" he gestured towards the papers "- happen? I have nothing to my name."

It was true. His parents had left him nothing to help other than a pile of rising debt and bloodthirsty sharks. 

"Your brother," Jin answered respectfully. "It took us a while to gather all the formalities we needed to pay everything off from a third party but we finally managed to do it."

Jungkook clutched the table top tighter, years escaping his eyes. The irony that his brother was doing more to help him from beyond the grave than anyone alive was heart wrenching.

He saw Jin offering him a silk handkerchief and took it gratefully. 

"I haven't offered you my most sincere condolences yet, Jungkook-ssi. I apologize." 

He barely nodded, too numb to say anything else. 

"There is also -" Seokjin took out another file "- something else for us to consider. Your parents may not have left behind anything for you but the same cannot be said for your brother." 

And he passed a formal looking document to him, one which Jungkook recognized as a will. It said nothing other than his name and his intent. But what made his eyes pop out were the zeroes at the very end. 

"How… I…when did - where did he get all this from? 

"Park Jimin seemed to be very intent on taking care of you," he said softly, ignoring the latter half of his question. "It's enough for you to live very comfortably from now on Jungkook-ssi. You don't have to worry about money anymore," he clarified. 

Jungkook almost collapsed with relief, gratefulness and guilt playing toss-up in his veins. 

"Has…has he left me anything else, like a letter or…or a memento?" He asked eagerly. 

Seokjin gave him a look of pity, frowning slightly. "I'm sorry Jungkook-ssi. But this is all there is. However, I'm legally bound to inform you that there are conditions to your inheritance." 

Jungkook scrunched his eyebrows together, rolling up his sleeves. 

"You only get access to everything once you leave Seoul." 

"What?" It didn't make sense to Jungkook. 

"Where would I even go?" He murmured. This was his home, all that was left of it. But then again, Jimin had always wanted him to pursue his dreams. To seek greener pastures. But leaving meant running away - escaping. Forgetting. And he didn't deserve to forget a single bit. 

" Anywhere you like", Jin said optimistically. "You have all the money in the world and a wealth of talent in you, if my sources are accurate. You could go anywhere," he said softly. "Be anything." And then in a smaller voice - "I think it's what your brother would have wanted you to do." 

And for a moment, Jungkook let himself imagine it: a future where he got to learn and grow and be the brightest version of himself. A future which had once been mapped out for him. His head spun at the possibilities. He could go to Tokyo - to calm cherry blossoms, or to Malaysia or even farther away. But a hazy Polaroid yellow image popped into his head: 

'They're so pretty,: Jimin used to say, looking at the delicate dancers on the screen, his tone laced with green envy. 'They're so lucky to be able to dance there.'

Jungkook would shake his head at his tone, catching the grand wood encased auditorium that had Jimin swooning. 'What's so special about that place anyway? One of the exchange students in my class is from there. All she does is complain about how chaotic it is. Busan is much more peaceful.' 

'You wouldn't get it,' Jimin snapped at him. 'The chaos is the best part of it. You get to blend in, leave your old life behind and nobody would notice. A fresh start,' he'd said mysteriously. 

Now, when he remembered it, he was struck with a pang of grief, the memory bright and warm amidst the chill which was threatening to freeze his heart. 

'New York,' he told Kim Seokjin carefully. 'I wanna go to New York.' 

And he did go there. He got into an excellent school and met the man who would become his best friend and in those three years, he tried to keep all thoughts of arson and murder and his mysterious savior out of his mind. 

And he'd succeeded. 

…

Until now. 

Jungkook stood statue-still under Kim Namjoon's watchful eyes, fingers clutching the ends of his threadbare suit, not even daring to breathe. 

He was afraid he would do something insane if he took in another whiff of that scent. 

It was the very same - the same scent from all those years ago. The one and only scent which had ever managed to arouse his omega. No matter how much time passed, he'd never forget it. This man was his savior. 

Jungkook struggled to wrap his head around the implications of what that meant. 

He was found at the scene of crime. 

No. He'd only been found because he stayed with Jungkook. 

That meant he was innocent. He'd done nothing wrong. 

How many people were going to suffer because of him? 

Namjoon's eyes found Jungkook's and he felt himself being irrevocably drawn to them - dark pools of magma red which should have frightened him, scared him but all they did were draw him closer - like a moth to a flame and he didn't realize how close he'd gotten until the tip of his boots touched the glass. 

Namjoon smiled at him. Primitively . 

Jungkook gasped, stumbling backwards until his back hit the wall with a thump, a small whimper leaving his lips and the smile slid off the other's face instantly, palm banging against the glass wall, teeth bared and eyes flashing. 

Jungkook trembled in place and seeing this, Namjoon closed his eyes, lids fluttering as he took several calming breaths. 

"Careful, little rose," he crooned. "Your pain… displeases me." 

Taking into account what everyone else had said to him about Namjoon and his reluctance to hold a conversation, Jungkook assumed his voice would be rusty with misuse but that clearly wasn't the case. His voice was baritone deep, husky and wet like he was speaking right into his ear. And any semblance of professionalism he wanted to maintain flew out the window, heat building between his thighs as he clenched his teeth, lips trembling as his omega whined desperately. 

"You…you can speak," Jungkook stammered and he instantly wanted to slap himself. Really, that's the first thing he decided to say to him? 

Namjoon laughed, a delightful sound he wanted to hear over and over and over again. 

Preferably with his lips curving into his stomach as he inched his head down between his - oh god, his omega was a whore. 

"As most other adult men can," Namjoon pointed out, eyes twinkling as he regarded Jungkook with a glint in his eye. 

And Jungkook felt the heat rush to his face, some of his sane thoughts returning as he cleared his throat, wanting to make a better first impression. 

"Kim Namjoon-ssi, my name is Jeon Jungkook," he introduced himself, bowing slightly. "I'm the psychiatrist assigned to assess you." 

And also apparently take advantage of your weaknesses so that they can lock you up here forever. 

More than anything however, he was  dying to ask about what had happened three years ago but for some reason, tackling the elephant in the room head on was not his forte. And for all he knew, Namjoon didn't even remember it. Feral alphas were noted to cling onto the memories that led to their becoming this way and Jungkook had to hide his disappointment at the possibility, though vague, that Namjoon simply didn't consider him worthy of remembering. Namjoon's expression still remained the same, slightly amused as he stared at him with those blazing red eyes. 

"Are you now?" The words were sardonic and mocking. "Then I'm very glad to meet you, Jungkook-ssi. I promise to cooperate." 

It didn't faze him. He didn't expect a prisoner to afford him the same respect that he received from anyone else. The man had no reason to respect him either. All he'd received from the doctors he'd seen was scorn and impatience. His prejudices biased him against Jungkook, and naturally he understood that. He adopted a professional stance and looked him in the eyes as he spoke. 

"Your personal data was severely lacking Namjoon-ssi. Could you please tell me your age?" 

Silence. 

That was okay. He didn't expect Namjoon to reciprocate immediately. He tried another approach. 

"If you don't mind, can you please tell me how long you've been here?" 

They were standard introductory questions: meant to build a rapport with his patient but Namjoon only looked at him blankly, his eyes scanning over his features. 

Jungkook started to pace across the floor and to his pleasant surprise, Namjoon mirrored his movements, walking parallel to him. If it weren't for the impenetrable glass in between them, they may as well have been taking a pleasant stroll side by side. It was a good thing, he perked up. At least his efforts were being reciprocated. Enthusiastic, he tried again. 

"Would you be able to tell me why you think you're here?" He asked delicately but this time Namjoon plain scoffed at him, head shaking imperceptibly. 

Jungkook frowned. 

"You said you'd cooperate," he reminded him.

"To questions you want to know the answers to," Namjoon emphasized. "If I wanted that standard questionnaire drivel, I'd have sung like a canary by now."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, ignoring the way his omega was practically panting inside him at Namjoon's words. 

"That's not protocol," he pointed out. 

"Fuck protocol," Namjoon said blankly and Jungkook gasped at the slur. And what it was doing to him. 

"And here I thought you were genuinely interested in me," he smirked, making Jungkook flush. 

"I am!" And it sounded so wrong, far from the professional interest he wanted to portray. 

"As am I," Namjoon purred. "What a wonderful happenstance, Jungkook-ssi. Ask away then," he speared his arms out, those bíceps bulging through the sinews and he was going to have to go on stronger suppressants because his omega was being a chore. 

And he wanted the alpha in front of him to do him like a - 

Jungkook cleared his throat, glad for the glass between them. Instead of focusing on how he'd had so many embarrassing close calls, he focused on what Namjoon wanted from him. 

If this were anyone else, he'd refuse instantly, setting down clear boundaries between his patient and him. It was easy to get those lines muddled up, especially in his line of work but something told him that the standard way of doing things would get him nowhere. Sure, he could try to wait him out, wear him down. After all, his job had taught him to have unlimited patience. But one look at the alpha standing on the other side of the glass, watching him silently, and he realized: this man was far more patient than he'd ever be. 

And he remembered Hoseok's words. They'd had no luck with Kim Namjoon yet. No way whatsoever and Jungkook had managed to make more progress in a few minutes than anyone had done in three years. He tried not to let that teensy little fact make him feel special. Surely, his boss would excuse Jungkook from deviating from routine if it got him answers, wouldn't he? 

But more than anything, Namjoon's words tempted him beyond anything else. Ask me what you want to know. 

"You're hesitating," Namjoon pointed out. 

Jungkook looked at him guiltily, chin tipped down as he dug the heel of his boot into the floor. 

"Look at me," a sharp voice commanded and Jungkook raised his head instantly, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. 

"Come closer." 

This time, Jungkook didn't obey. As the authority in this situation, he was supposed to be setting the tone in this meeting. He wasn't sure how he felt warring with his omega about the complex feelings which arose in him at Namjoon's command - his omega urging him to go along with it. 

Namjoon seemed to sense his unease, eyes softening as he beckoned him closer with a crook of his fingers and Jungkook felt hazy, unfocused . 

"I won't hurt you, little rose," he cooed. 

Why did he keep calling him that? Jungkook wondered. 

"Now come closer." 

There was a hint of coercion in his voice which hadn't been there before - tense and unpracticed like Namjoon never had to resort to such measures.

And it was this show of slight submission that gave Jungkook the courage to walk forward, eyes never leaving Namjoon's. 

"Tell me," he whispered, voice honey smooth. "Ask me what you really want to know." 

And his voice was so earnest, so honest and vulnerable that Jungkook didn't bother with his own insecurities. 

"Do you remember me?" Jungkook whispered so softly he may as well have mouthed the words, their lips separated only by a thin pane of glass. 

Namjoon smiled, nearly victorious for coaxing the question out of Jungkook. He wondered if he should keep him in the dark about it, wondered if he should remain silent but one look at those delicate doe eyes and he felt like the monster people had always called him for even considering the thought 

"Yes," he replied, just as soft, just as sure and was astonished at the way Jungkook's shoulders shook in repressed sorrow. For the first time since he was stuck in this wretched place, he was assaulted with the violent urge to shatter the shield that separated them and take his beautiful boy into his arms. He could feel his claws break out and he held his hands behind his back, the last thing he wanted to do was frighten the adorable, delicate boy. 

Empowered by his answer, Jungkook threw out a volley of questions. 

"Then why did you leave? Who took you away that night? Away from me when -" 

"Now, now," Namjoon stopped him and Jungkook came to a stuttering halt. 

"You had your turn, didn't you? I believe it's my turn to ask the questions now."

"That's not how it works," Jungkook retorted immediately. But on the inside, he was scared about what Namjoon would ask him if given the chance - what Namjoon knew. He was already on a high, his omega beyond gleeful that the alpha they wanted had remembered them, had deemed them memorable. 

"You should have understood by now that nothing I do is conventional, Jungkook-ssi. Besides, if I answered all your questions right now, what reason would you have to come back and see me?" 

He kept a calm outlook but the butterflies were somersaulting in his stomach. He would never entertain this kind of blatant invasion of his privacy from another patient but he understood that with Namjoon, it was give and take. He would fail just like the others if he expected results without offering up a piece of himself in return. 

Perhaps that's why nobody survives him, a fearful voice said in his head. Because the pieces he takes from them are unsalvageable. 

He ignored it. "Ask away," he said, hoping his tone was just as casual as Namjoon's had been though he was shaking in his boots. 

Would he ask about his past? 

His family? 

Himself? 

Why did he want to know anyway? 

Why did - 

"Did you eat?" Namjoon asked finally. 

"I - what?" 

"Have. You. Eaten?" Namjoon repeated slowly, sitting back into his armchair, putting his hands on his lap. 

Jungkook was so taken aback by the question that he blinked twice, trying to remember if he had. 

"Um..yes?" He replied automatically. 

It was only after answering that he remembered that cold coffee was the only thing he'd had since morning but he figured this was just some weird way of Namjoon being oddly polite. 

How very wrong he was proven to be. 

"I detest lies, little rose," Namjoon said firmly, clenching his hands tightly. How had he even known? 

"I promised you explicit honesty and I expect the same from you. Now," he said again, "I'll ask you again. Did you eat?" 

"No," Jungkook whispered, breathing heavier at the dominance of his voice, at the sheer authority. What was happening to him? He was supposed to hate arrogant alphas who behaved like this. 

But this wasn't arrogance, this was confidence. 

And that made him all the more attractive. 

"The next week you come, I want your answer to be different, Jungkook-ssi. I won't be very pleased otherwise. Is that understood?" 

He was supposed to be the one making demands. Setting conditions. Laying down ultimatums. 

But having the tables turned on him felt… good. His omega basked under the care, wanting more of it from this alluring alpha. 

" Yes," he whispered. 

He heard the thud of footsteps, most likely the person responsible for fetching him at the end of his hour and he gave Namjoon one last look before he had to leave. 

"Goodbye little rose," Namjoon's soft voice softer to him. 

"Why do you call me that?" 

"Keep coming by," Namjoon urged him, "and maybe I'll tell you then." 

Jungkook gave him one last lingering look before he let himself be led away back into the sunlight, forcing his legs to work and then suddenly crashing down into a crouch in the elevator. 

Both the guards looked at him in concern, offering him water, but he shook his head. He wasn't unwell. 

"I told you there's something wrong with that one," one of the men said aggressively. "Sends them all ruining back like they're cursed." 

But Jungkook wasn't cursed. 

He was violently aroused. 

…

Chapter Text

show me what I'm looking for

When faced with an ethical dilemma, he was used to sticking to what he knew and right now, Jungkook was sure about three things. 

Kim Namjoon, regardless of what they knew to be true about him, was incredibly dangerous. Really, for all he knew, the rumors of him running a gang could be vastly exaggerated and he could very well be a harmless sushi restaurant owner. But despite the fact that Jungkook knew virtually nothing about his background, the alpha was the very epitome of intimidation: his fearsome crimson eyes and the barest hint of claws painting the picture of someone who was more beast than man. But he was far too sophisticated for it to show. In the one hour Jungkook had spent in his presence, he'd been dealt with by someone who was coercive yet impeccably polite, dastardly handsome yet touched by the barest hint of wildness that, apparently, he kept under a tight leash. And he'd crooned for Jungkook - given him the gift of his words when he'd so vehemently denied them to anyone else. 

He didn't want to face the consequences of betraying the trust of such a man. 

Which was, unfortunately, exactly what he was being asked to do. He was sure the cadets at the unit would be thrilled at his progress, for managing to coax out a conversation out of such an elusive man. He dreaded what would happen once people got to know what had happened. It was one of the reasons he didn't want to tell anyone just yet. 

Which led him to the second thing. 

Kim Namjoon was the man who'd saved his life.  

There was no doubt about it. 

For a few hours after that first meeting, he'd wondered if he was being played. It wouldn't be the first time a particularly cunning patient tried to use his empathy against him. But then he remembered that scent and his voice and he knew he couldn't be mistaken. For some confounding reason that he was still unaware of, he just didn't know why . Why had Namjoon been there in the first place? Was it just some bizarre coincidence? For a moment, he'd considered the horrendous possibility that Namjoon had, in some way, been responsible for what'd happened but dismissed the thought immediately. If he wanted Jungkook dead, he wouldn't have raged into a burning building to save his life. Which brought him to why ? Why did he save him in the first place? 

His innumerable questions aside - Jungkook owed Kim Namjoon his life. That itself put a dent in the impersonal doctor-patient relationship they were supposed to be confined to. It also made him feel terribly guilty - he wanted no part in further caging a man who, by all rights, deserved to be free. He'd felt that way from the very start but now, his feelings were amplified. 

The ethical thing to do would be to wash his hands off the case. To hand it over to someone who would approach it unbiased. Nobody would think it unusual. Kim Namjoon had managed to drive away the strongest of them. What was one more helpless omega? He wouldn't be incriminated at all and the burden of stringing out information from him would fall upon someone else's shoulders. He could sleep with a clear moral consciousness, no hint of any wrong-doing whatsoever. 

But there was a reason he couldn't do that, could he? 

Because Kim Namjoon was the alpha that his omega had decided on. 

He'd come to the realization mere hours after they parted. His omega didn't let him stay in peace for a while after that - whining and clawing out desperately for the one person who was completely off limits. Vaguely, he wondered why he hadn't felt so strongly when they'd met for the first time, but then again, he had been in the middle of dying then so… But the last time he'd experienced such disparity with his inner self was way back when he'd presented for the first time - his omega urging him to scent and nest and love. It'd taken some extreme self-mediation (and a lot of weird stares from Jimin) until he learned how to settle down. Now, the only time he let his omega dominate was during his heats, letting his shameful fantasies go wild. 

Though that was exactly what Kim Namjoon was going to be. Jungkook would never, except in his wildest dreams, even consider the thought of signifying his...interest in any way. Not only would it be highly unethical but there was also the fact of Namjoon's unsavory reputation added to the mix. In fact, a part of him wanted to groan out loud. The first alpha his omega had to go crazy for and he turned out to be a probable criminal. 

Wonderful.

But at the same time, he couldn't bring himself to torture his omega by depriving him so. All his life, he'd tried to ignore his second gender as much as he could. He ignored the urge to find a pack after his family's death. Ignored the instinctual urge to nest and nurture and care since he didn't want to be perceived as weak in any way. And since he hid his status as an omega, he was never courted either, hence denying himself a potential mate for his heats. He'd suppressed himself a lot and if some twisted perception of a connection to Namjoon made his omega happy…he wasn't one to resist temptation. 

For as long as it lasted, anyway. 

A delicate cough interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. 

Yoongi gave him a pointed look, tucking his pen behind his ear as he crossed his legs in the cushy little armchair in front of him. 

"Sorry," Jungkook said sheepishly, bringing up a self conscious hand to curl at the back of his hair. "Just thinking about some work stuff."

"You promised you wouldn't use that as an excuse, Jungkook," Min Yoongi reminded him. 

"I'm not, I'm not!" Jungkook emphasized, sitting up straighter. "I promise I'm focused."

"For your sake, I hope so."

Yoongi sat back, his loose wool sweater drowning him and if he wasn't his therapist, Jungkook would've practically cooed at how cute he looked. 

"I know this is only our second session, so let's start slow. Why don't you tell me more about your family?"

On one hand, Jungkook was relieved that he wasn't asking about him, glad that he wasn't being forced to bare his heart but on the other, talking about his family wasn't exactly a walk in the park either. 

"What would you like to know?" He broached the topic carefully, snippets of painful past conversations ghosting towards him. 

"Anything you want to tell me would be delightful Jungkook. I don't want to know them, I want to know how you feel about them." 

Jungkook nodded, grateful for the distinction. Too many times, he'd had to dodge baseless accusations and cruel rumors from the very people who'd promised to help him heal. He knew they were only trying to get a clear picture of things, to see his reaction - but Jungkook preferred Yoongi's approach. He recognized the tactic, the discussion not meant as a means to glean information but a way to pick up on his cadences and tempo as he spoke about the people he was closest to. 

"We were close," he said wistfully. "My parents and I. They were very supportive of my career - especially after I presented. They never held me back, always said they had big plans in store for me."

"You speak as if that's not what you expected."

Jungkook shook his head. "I didn't," he admitted. "My presentation was a bit of a surprise for them and with how protective they are, I thought they'd start getting cagey."

"But they didn't." 

"No, they didn't. Well…" he recalled the last stance they'd taken, "they did prefer me staying close to home but it was never imposed on me.  

Jungkook saw Yoongi jot down a little note but he remained just as impassive as before.

"What about their work?" He prompted. "Was it particularly strenuous?" 

Jungkook shrugged. "They worked in finance. Like hedge funds. Loans and interest - the works. I don't think I can give you the details - I never really showed much interest," he admitted. 

Jungkook never had, really. He was a little embarrassed to say that he'd only started to pay attention to his parents' business when some of their more recent decisions hadn't worked out. 

"Forgive me for being blunt, but things went downhill towards the end, didn't they?" 

"They had a lot of debt," Jungkook said slowly. "I don't know how it happened, but business was rather slow the last couple of years." 

He remembered their frantic budgeting, strings tightening over his allowances. It was the first time he'd really got an insight as to how unstable their work really was. 

"Was that a trying period?"

Jungkook tried to think back on it. "Not really," he said honestly. "So maybe we didn't have as much luxury as before, moved neighborhoods but things didn't change drastically." 

It wasn't like they'd gone bankrupt. It was more of a dry patch. Something that Jungkook always thought they'd tide over. He hasn't lacked for much, even then. 

"And besides, I was a scholarship student," he reminded Yoongi. "It didn't really cause a lot of trouble back then." 

Yoongi hummed in acknowledgment, twiddling his pen on his right hand while he rested his chin on the left. He seemed…bored? No, on second glance, it was more…speculative. And then he asked something completely out of the blue. 

"So you don't resent them? After their deaths, you must've been drowning in debts they couldn't pay off." 

And it was in times like this that he hated Min Yoongi's twisted brand of straightforwardness. 

"They were my parents," he gritted out. "I'm sure they didn't exactly go ahead and plan to leave me high and dry. And besides," he tried to regain his calm, "my brother took care of that for me." He ignored the way his voice broke in the last sentence. 

And Jungkook might have missed the slightest way Yoongi sat up in interest, like a bobcat arching up to leap at its prey. The subtle shift of his torso, angling himself towards him. Interest. 

"Your brother," he drawled. "Now he's someone I want to talk about." 

"Why?" His hackles were raised, inbred protectiveness in him wanting to shield the memory of his brother against a careless word - an assault to his character in any form. 

"I was curious from the start. Why do you both have different surnames?" 

Jungkook relaxed. He was expecting something harsher. This, however, was a question he received often and he didn't mind answering it. 

"We're half brothers," he shared. "Jimin's mother passed away when he was very young. My father remarried very quickly after that and Jimin wasn't very happy about it, understandably so, even though he was so young when it happened. He never spoke about it much but I think he always held a grudge against our father for how fast he moved on after her. He legally changed his name when we were in high school. Took on his mother's last name - to honor her I think."

To say that Jimin hadn't gotten along with their parents would be a massive understatement. Their father hadn't tried to coddle him, or win him over in any way. Hadn't tried to bond with his first son any more than was absolutely necessary. His own mother had tried to step in to fulfill a maternal role but she was brutally shunned. He didn't ever blame Jimin for that though. Secretly, he would've felt the same way if someone else tried to step in the shoes of his own mother. 

He was an unruly child, as far as Jungkook remembered, and he'd never quite mellowed out over the years, his anger only warping into the buds of teen rebellion. And oh how he'd rebelled. The name change had only been the start of a series of tense silences in the Jeon household and as he grew, it only stoked the flames of discord when he'd refused to follow in their father's footsteps and get into the family business. 

"It's ironic," Yoongi noted, "that he was so protective over you in spite of everything else." 

Jungkook thought so too but it was what it was. Growing up, he'd been too scared to play with Jimin - even his baby self sensing the distance he maintained from the rest of them. But Jimin had taken to him since he was a child. For all his hatred towards their parents, not a single bit extended towards Jungkook. Not a bit. It was the opposite, in fact. They'd grown up closer than most siblings, Jimin being his best friend. His closest confidant. 

Not anymore though. Now he was alone. 

He swallowed reflexively. Yoongi looked at him, head quirked. 

"It must've been quite a loss," he intoned. "Losing your only family so suddenly." 

"It was," he whispered.

  Reds and oranges.

 A whiff of jasmine. 

An empty casket. 

Jimin. 

"I'm sure it was, but I was actually talking about your omega." 

Jungkook blinked in confusion. 

"Don't pretend," Yoongi chastened lightly. "How long has it been since you've nested?" He asked head-on. 

Jungkook curled up into himself defensively. Nesting was something so instinctual - such a basic need for comfort and touch. A need he'd so cruelly denied himself . The loss of his family had affected him personally but to his omega, it'd influenced him in… other ways. Omegas were social creatures, regardless of how shy or introverted their personalities may be. They needed the safety a family could provide. The comfort a pack could bring. It could be… physically distressing to an omega to go without the skinship they needed to thrive. It wasn't dangerous. Far from it. But it did affect his life. Omegas who lost their families or loved ones were never shunned - they were taken in generously, adopted into other social structures, found new loved ones to bond themselves to. 

Jungkook had gone about it the opposite way. He'd hidden his status so thoroughly, closing himself off and shutting his omega down. He kept telling himself it was for his own safety - he'd never get ahead professionally if people knew he was an omega. And he was in a position where he needed to get ahead in life; the only person he had to depend on was himself. He never would've progressed otherwise. He told himself that it was for his own good - if he was found to be an omega, things would come crashing down regardless. It was for the best to stay concealed. 

But deep down, he knew why he forced himself to live this way. 

He didn't deserve another family when he'd failed to protect the first one. 

Of course, this type of honesty would only get him sympathy. 

And that was the last thing he needed. 

"A while," he answered, noncommittally. He didn't mention how his omega whined pitifully when they saw others being wrapped up in hugs. How he averted his eyes when people held hands across from him on the sidewalk, smiles gracing their faces. He didn't say how he used to panic each time Tae hugged him, stiff still, only because he was too scared he wouldn't let go. 

He didn't say he was desperately touch-starved. 

"How long is a while?" Yoongi didn't drop it. "Weeks?" 

Jungkook cringed at the incredulousness in his voice. 

"Months?" 

God, the judgment . 

"Years?" 

Jungkook averted his eyes. The guilt manifested itself. 

"Yea- good god Jungkook." 

His pen went clattering down to the floor, and he was staring at Jungkook in shock - the first time he'd managed to elicit such a strong reaction from the other man. 

"What are you - some sort of masochist?" He demanded angrily. 

"You're supposed to be non-judgemental!" Jungkook yelled back. 

"You're physically hurting yourself! How else am I supposed to react?" 

Jungkook didn't have an answer to that.

"At least tell me you've had someone for your heats," he said, like the answer would redeem him. 

"You already know I've never had a partner," he mumbled. 

"Yes yes," Yoongi affirmed impatiently. "But I meant a companion. You had one of those, right?" 

Companions were very different from heat partners. Omegas generally didn't take partners unless they entrusted them completely. Intimacy during a heat was almost sacred for an omega and the privilege was reserved for courting couples almost exclusively. It wasn't something to be taken casually and Jungkook had never even entertained the thought in his entire life. 

Companions were another thing entirely. It was a platonic agreement - a friend who could help, a family member to provide comfort; to make sure he stayed healthy and whole during the entire thing. The skinship proved to be immensely soothing for an omega, a healthy way to get through a heat unscathed. It was nowhere as fulfilling as the bond shared with a partner but it was still better than going through the daunting experience alone. 

He hadn't had that either. And it wasn't entirely his fault for maintaining that stance. 

Jungkook had always suffered through his heats: flames licking at his body, the waves of pain undulating throughout his body. Jimin used to be his companion. Ever since his first heat, it'd been Jimin who'd hold his hand throughout, reading his favorite manga panels just to make fun of them. He'd crib and crib as he cooked for him but he ever slacked off. Ever . 

Strangely enough, after the night of the fire three years ago, his heats had changed irreversibly. 

For the worse. 

If the pain was bad before, it was almost intolerable now. Excruciating torture as he bore it alone, screams muffled by the sweat soaked sheets beneath him. He didn't know how long he'd yelled, his voice hoarse and reduced to mewling whimpers by the end of it. The first time it'd happened that way, he'd been scared to death, waking up semi-conscious - mouth parched and body bone tired. 

It didn't get better. 

It also didn't help that his heats were irregular, and he started to live in constant fear of when it would happen next. Panicking whenever he ran a fever, making hasty arrangements when he felt those all too familiar chills raking down his spine like nails across a chalkboard. 

He'd been so desperate that he'd even considered telling Tae he was an omega - just so that he would have a companion. But he'd resisted. Every single time. 

He'd been told it was a trauma response at the start, his body manifesting the pain and agony in a physical way. But it'd been three years. 

Guess the manifestation wasn't done with him yet. 

Yoongi was glaring at him, mouth twisted into a weird expression. There was sympathy, yes. Compassion as well. But what place did anger have? What reason did Yoongi have to be angry at him?

"I didn't do it on purpose," he defended himself. "You know why I hid my status. You know why I had to."

Yoongi's expression softened. 

"Jungkook, have you considered you can finally stop now?"

When he made a move to intervene, Yoongi went on. "You're back home. You have a job now. A career where your skills are valued. Your talents are so valuable now that your gender will be secondary. And you have the opportunity to settle down. To put down roots here. You can't go forever without an alpha, Jungkook. As much as you're trying to convince yourself you can, you can't." 

It was one thing knowing and another to hear the words out loud. It was something he'd been too scared to even consider - the possibility of reclaiming an identity he'd given up years ago. The possibility of having a home - not just a house. Of having a family. 

Seeing his hesitation, Yoongi placed a comforting hand on his knee.

"You deserve it, Jungkook. You deserve this ." 

It was what he needed to hear the most. 

And the possibility terrified him. 

… 

He walked home, kicking pebbles down the sidewalk as he dwelled over his meeting with Yoongi. 

As much as it pained him to admit, he had nothing holding him back from starting a new life other than the guilt which stayed buried deep in him. Yoongi was right. It was one thing to have hid his status as a young student who would potentially be biased against. It was another to hide out of fear of change. 

He let himself imagine, just for a moment, how his life would change if he stopped using the scent blockers. The suppressors. 

He imagined the surprise. The shock. The judgment. The murmured whispers behind his back. 

But he could also see a sky full of softness, a pastel tint to a world he'd painted black. He imagined what his life would be filled with casual skinship, sweet pecks to his cheeks, arms hanging off his shoulders. With friends to spend evenings with; wine drunk and tipsy. A lover to hold him, to soak in the weariness of a tired day. Small comforts. But big dreams. 

It was a future he'd written off. Potentially forever. 

And now Yoongi was teaching him it was okay for him to want it. Normal for him to want to explore it. Healthy, even. 

Lost in his drawn up, long winded fantasies of a sugar glazed future, he almost didn't notice the bike heading straight towards him. It was some punk kid with headphones on and a black snapback, pedaling his way and he just knew they'd crash. He knew in the way that he knew he'd miss the subway seconds before the door closed on him. The way he knew he'd lose a game online in the first few seconds his character stumbled. The way he knew when a painting would turn out bad the moment he put brush to paper and he even closed his eyes in preparation, bracing for the impact. 

But the crash never came.

He felt himself be wrenched back by a strong hand around his waist, pulled into a dingy back alley and he gasped out a breath of relief, turning to thank his savior. But he already has his back turned away from him, hoodie pulled up as he starts to walk away, a parting warning his only words to Jungkook. 

"Watch it!" The voice was low and gruff, barely comprehensible from beneath his mask. 

But Jungkook knows that voice. Strikes him like a bell and he runs it though all the faces he can remember, hoping to find a match so he can call out to him but the man is gone. 

Disappeared into the maze of alleys that ran through Seoul. 

Just like everyone else in Jungkook's life. 

… 

Jungkook wanted to say that the stranger was the only thing he thought about all next week but he was just too busy to do so. 

Somehow, everyone at work had found out about his little interaction with Namjoon and now he was the subject of nudged elbows and shushes as he walked past people, head drooping self-consciously. 

"Yes, but what did he say? " 

Of all the people who were excited about the new developments: that Kim Namjoon had finally spoken and it'd been a rookie that'd managed to get the task done - it was his professor who was bounding to know about it. 

Hoseok watched them over them impassively from his spot against the wall. Currently, he was seated opposite to the man across his desk, hands folded politely on his lap as he watched the man struggling to control his emotions as he interrogated Jungkook. He'd had all the patience of a hasty predator when he'd heard that one of his students had managed such a breakthrough, proudly proclaiming the fact as no small modicum of success. The fact that he'd barely taught himself Jungkook anything was moot but he didn't care. It wasn't the first time he'd been a victim to such a person. Incompetent authority figures who gobbled up achievements like they were their own. But he didn't mind it this time. In fact, it was better that someone wanted to take the credit. Hopefully, it meant there would be less attention on him. 

Somewhere in between the last time he'd seen Namjoon and now, he'd made up his mind on what he was prepared to share. And he came to the unwavering conclusion that he wasn't going to betray Namjoon's trust. 

Firstly, it would be a breach of confidentiality, he reasoned. In his present state, Namjoon wasn't a threat to anyone or himself. Therefore, Jungkook had no legal or professional obligation to share his thoughts with anyone. It was a refusal to obey direct orders and he knew if anyone at the agency found out, he'd be in huge trouble. However, considering that Namjoon and him were the only people privy to their meetings, unless Namjoon suddenly decided to; as he so delicately put it - 'sing like a canary' - nobody would know. 

More importantly however (and a somewhat less ethical reason that pleased his omega immensely), Namjoon had secrets which Jungkook needed to know. Secrets which he'd probably been harboring for a long time. As long as he was allowed to speak to Namjoon, there was the possibility of extracting that information for himself. 

Above all, and his heart lurched at this, he wanted to help Namjoon. The only reason being used against him was his feral state and if Jungkook could do anything to bring him back to normal, he'd try his very best. After all, this was what he did best. Heal others. 

"Um…he said he can speak, like most other adult men can," Jungkook started and watched the professor's face fall at the obvious piece of information. 

"He…um promised to cooperate," Jungkook added in a faux attempt to be helpful, hiding his smile when the man's face fell even further. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for Hoseok, who was desperately trying to pass a snort over as a bad bout of a cough. 

"And?"The man asked impatiently. 

Like Jungkook was going to tell him about all the stuff that mattered. The way he'd asked him to come closer in that deep voice of his. The way he called him 'little rose'. How he'd teased him so deliciously. 

Instead Jungkook said, "he's a little averse to the exact way we do things." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

Well, he was the one who'd asked. 

"I believe his exact words were - ' fuck the protocol' but I was trying to paraphrase." 

This time, Hoseok didn't even try to hold in his laughter, dissolving into loud giggles, hands on his knees as he leaned forward and Jungkook couldn't hold a smirk in, making sure to conceal it quickly though. 

His professor gave him a disgusted look before turning back to Jungkook. 

"Swearing is good," he said, voice upbeat. "I can see the impatience in his tone, it's just a matter of time before he slips," he said eagerly and Jungkook wanted to roll his eyes at the desperate attempt to psychoanalyze a cuss word said in the heat of the moment. "Keep up the good work, Jungkook-ssi and we may just be able to get somewhere soon."

He got up and gathered his briefcase, talking over his shoulder as he left. "Oh, and I'd like a ten page report from you on negative language and its associations with mental illness. On my desk. Eight am sharp Jungkook-ssi." 

Drat. Maybe he hadn't hidden that smirk as well as he was supposed to have. 

"I'm sorry," Hoseok said, as soon as they were the only people in the room. "Didn't think a little bit of joking around would get you extra homework." 

"It's fine," Jungkook waved his concerns away. "I've had professors like this before." 

Not all professionals were professional. His empathy may have done him plenty good with his patients but great skills came with their fair share of envy as well and he'd been the subject of more than one grudge before. 

But Hoseok frowned. "If he's bullying you, you let me know alright?" 

Jungkook raised a cautious eyebrow. "But he's the professor in charge of my training. He can pretty much do what he wants with me, right?" What he was really asking was: are you sure you have the authority to intervene? 

"He may be your professor but I'm the one who offered you the job. I'm the only one who decides how to judge you on it and so far, I have to say, I'm pretty impressed Jungkook-ssi." 

It was a warm compliment and Jungkook blushed, blowing slightly in thanks. 

"I didn't hold any expectations but if I did, you've exceeded them all." 

"You don't want to know what we've talked about?" Jungkook asked. 

Hoseok shook his head. "You're the expert here. I don't want a play by play," he reassured Jungkook.  As long as you're making progress, it's good for me. If he does tell you anything you deem important, you'll tell me anyway."

"Sure," Jungkook said, hoping he was hiding his intentions well. 

"Hoseok-ssi," he started hesitantly. He received a polite smile in response and that urged him to continue. "I know my primary purpose is to talk to Kim Namjoon and to extrapolate information but I was wondering if I could draw up a treatment plan for him too? To bring him out of his feral state," he clarified. I know that you don't want him to be treated, he rushed out. "But I just can't stand by and watch while he suffers just for the sake of an organization that wants him to stay that way to fulfill their own selfish agenda. I'll still interrogate him," he bargained, "but please give me permission to try and heal him too." 

Jungkook breathed out heavily after his little tirade. It was a heavy risk he was taking, being so forward with his demands. But he didn't want to compromise his morals for anything. 

But Hoseok had a sad smile on his face. "You're a good person Jungkook-ssi," he said casually. "But I'm afraid this won't be approved." 

Jungkook nodded heavily. At least he'd tried. 

"But who knows?" Hoseok said with a mysterious smile. "Maybe he'll get better soon?" 

"When nothing's changed for three years?" Jungkook scoffed. "It'd be a miracle for that to suddenly happen."

"Yes," Hoseok sighed, looking at him with a twinkle in his eyes. "A miracle ." 

… 

He was exhausted by the time he finally left work. 

His professor had not so subtly worked him to the bone all day, using him to fulfill the most useless tasks. 

"It's to get you familiarized," he'd said silkily, when he'd ordered him to arrange their archive in alphabetical order. An archive. Who even kept physical archives anymore? And he still had an evening lecture to attend which counted towards his grade. 

Good god. 

Thankfully, one of the older students - Sehun, had volunteered to help him out with the archives and he'd been eternally grateful, promising to pay him back with a meal. 

By the time he finally got off, it was already getting dark and he trudged home, thoughts on what he'd come up with for dinner. There were leftovers in the refrigerator. Or he could just order a pizza? Perhaps heat up some cup ramen? 

Whatever. As long as he didn't go straight home and fall into bed first. 

All thoughts of dinner and food sent starlight out of the window when he reached the front door and put in his key. 

It was already unlocked. 

Jungkook felt chills run down his spine, his hand dripping from the doorknob immediately. He slowly nudged the door ajar with the toe of his boot, hearing it creek eerily as he held his breath. It was dark inside, the lights not having been turned on. He could barely make out anything. 

But warily, he walked in, feeling across the walls for the light switch and flicked it on . 

Everything looked okay. It was just like he'd left it: messy clothes hung over the back of the couch, teacups with a ring of brown liquid still remaining at the bottom, a stack of books hastily piled up on the coffee table. 

Jungkook made his way inside, relaxing further when he saw the bedroom was untouched too - his bed unmade and the table lamp flickering on and off, a book he was reading face down on the desk beside it. 

He promptly lightened. He'd probably forgotten to lock it himself, he considered. It wouldn't be the first time he'd rushed out with a coat in one hand, coffee in the other, too in a hurry to remember to lock the door behond him. Lazily, he started to pick up after himself, making his way to the living room and shutting the door behind them. 

And he dropped everything that he'd been holding. 

On the back of the main door, scratched into the wood, was only one word. 

Leave. 

…

The smart thing would be to go to the police. Or better yet, go to Hoseok immediately. He worked in a crime control unit, for god's sake. Surely, they'd want to know if their employees were being threatened, right? 

But it led to the question of why? 

Other than that one word, his house had been left spotless. He'd checked and rechecked. None of his money had been taken. All his valuables remained untouched. The potential  intruder hadn't even gone through his stuff. 

But what did it mean then? 

Leave? 

Leave what? 

The house? His job? The neighborhood? 

And more importantly, who wanted him gone? For a moment, he wondered if this was just some silly prank. He'd seen tons of teens around and he wouldn't put it past them to do something like this. He'd been a child once as well. 

But then again, the security here wasn't that bad. 

The questions plagued him endlessly and  he couldn't sleep the entire night, tossing and turning and being jolted out of his sleep all of a sudden by nightmares where he was followed by dark shadows. Scared out of his wits that the same someone would decide to come back again and this time, they'd catch him unaware and vulnerable. 

If he could, he would've left his apartment as soon as he could. Stayed with someone else for a while until things tided over. But he knew nobody else in Seoul. He had nowhere to go. More than ever, he wished he had Tae. Taehyung would know what to do. He'd know how to protect him. 

When morning came, he was sleep-deprived and restless. All he wanted to do was lay back down and go to sleep but he couldn't. 

Today was the day he met Namjoon again. 

For some reason, that took priority over everything else. 

A nervous energy seemed to dissolve his fear from before as he leaped out of bed, getting dressed for the day. Just as he was about to grab a suit from his wardrobe, he paused, his eyes wandering to something less…formal.

Jungkook blushed instantly at the thoughts crossing his mind. 

He was not dressing up for an alpha. 

He was not. 

… 

Half an hour later (and a hearty breakfast), Jungkook walked out decked out in a beige turtleneck and a pair of dark brown corduroys. It was far from informal but he would definitely attract some pointed stares  with his choice of attire. 

The procedure was the same as before. He was escorted into a shaded car and driven to the same location as before though he couldn't really see where they were going. 

Jungkook started to get more and more nervous the closer they got to the complex, his hands trembling out of excitement. What would Kim Namjoon say to him this time? What would Jungkook say? 

Thoughts of deep dark voices occupied his thoughts as he was led down the atrium stairs one at a time, his mood souring when he saw how it got darker with each step he took. 

The last time he'd been here, it was sunny out. And the weather reflected through the atrium windows, lighting up the passages gloriously. Now, it was still light out but the cloudy, damp weather didn't let the sun shine through this deep down and it only made the room seem darker as well. He couldn't imagine not being able to see the sun. 

How did Namjoon live like this? 

Jungkook reached the entry desk and was subjected to the same droning voice as before warning him to maintain his distance and leave all his belongings behind before he stepped through the metal detector which led to Namjoon. 

It was still quite early in the day, seven in the morning. Jungkook knew that Namjoon wasn't informed of the exact time of his visits. It was just one more way for him to be caught off guard, according to the others. 

Jungkook suspected he was always on his guard. 

But the lack of information on Namjoon's end meant that Jungkook walked in on him in a very appealing position. 

He was dripping wet - gloriously so, obviously just having finished a workout from the looks of it. Sweat drenched and red-cheeked, he almost didn't notice Jungkook from where he stood frozen in the doorway. 

When he did, however, his lips curled up into a slow smile, his eyes narrowing onto Jungkook's quivering figure. 

Shy baby. 

He stood up to his full height, only a loose pair of tracks hanging low on his hips as his hair hung messily over his eyes. He licked his lips when he saw Jungkook wrapped up in all those cute clothes. 

Sweet. Sweet enough to eat right up. 

Jungkook, on the other hand, was feeling dangerously light-headed. The sight of Kim Namjoon was enough to overwhelm him on any good day but a half-naked Kim Namjoon? 

God have mercy on him. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to handle himself. What could he even say? 

I want to lick the beads of sweat off your body? 

I want to trace over every dip and curve of your skin? 

I want want want want - 

But then he turned around and Jungkook gasped out loud. For a very different reason. 

His back was a mottled mess of scars. Faded silver scars crossed his upper back and from the look of it, they looked fully healed - the marks a remnant of years past. But with alphas, you never knew. They healed extremely fast. How long ago had this been done to him? How long ago had he been subjected to this? Worse yet, was it still happening? 

Three years of brutal interrogation but nothing. We don't even know where the man really lives, for God's sake.

His mouth filled with bile. He was naive to think that brutality didn't extend to physical torture. To abject cruelty. And he was aiding this? How could someone do this to another human being? 

"Little rose."

Namjoon's voice startled him out of his horror. 

"Don't cry, little rose. I'm not worth your tears." 

Jungkook looked at him through blurry eyes, wiping away at his eyes. He was so pathetic. Namjoon was the one who'd been hurt yet he'd had to be the one to be consoled. What a mess. 

"When?" He asked, voice wobbly. 

Namjoon stared at him hard, slightly startled at how easily he'd started to tear up. He'd known Jungkook was extremely sensitive but the sight of his tears stirred up a complicated mess of emotions in him. Tears didn't have a place in his life. He'd seen blood and sweat more than he'd ever seen tears. But Jungkook's tears were different - it was like seeing a molten stream of diamonds trail down his cheeks. It…unsettled him. 

How beautiful must someone be, he wondered, if even their sadness only enhanced their charm. 

"When Namjoon-ssi? How long has it been?" 

And he realized he'd never answered Jungkook. 

"Enough time for them to heal," he answered, not wanting to go back to the days when he woke up to anger and pain and unconsciousness was the only way to fall asleep. 

"But…but it's illegal!" Jungkook yelled out and not for the first time, Namjoon wanted to shatter past the glass that separated him from the omega who he was meant for. 

How had he survived so far, Namjoon wondered, not for the first time. How had he made it in this grime painted world with its gruesome people and still come out so pure? So full of innocence and naivete? 

Like roses. Untarnished. Untouched . 

Because when was the last time someone had wept for him? Chosen to waste an emotion on him other than anger? 

"Even if it is illegal," he said gently, "who would care?" 

"The law! The authorities!" Jungkook tried to retort and Namjoon laughed bitterly. 

They're the very people who did this to me," he whispered. "Your law. Your authorities." 

Jungkook fell silent and Namjoon could see the conundrum. Jungkook was the epitome of an upstanding young man. Probably followed all the rules to a tee. For him, the system existed for a reason. Everything was black and white - the cutoffs between right and wrong out there in plain sight. For a moment, Namjoon was glad he was seeing the other side of the veil. Even if it meant his own pain, understanding was hard sought. 

"Turn around," Jungkook whispered and Namjoon obeyed. How could he not? 

He could hear footsteps approaching closer and closer, the scent he so desperately wanted to soak in hidden under industrial grade suppressants. 

"You have lawyers," Jungkook's voice reached out to him, closer than before but Namjoon didn't dare turn around. 

"Powerful lawyers," Jungkook emphasized.

"They can't get me out of here," he spoke out. "As long as I remain feral, I have a reason to be kept here." 

The most that could be done was make his imprisonment comfortable. And it was - superficially. Materialistically, he lacked almost nothing, living in just as much luxury as he'd lived in before. He had access to whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it.

A golden cage - but a cage nonetheless. 

But now his cage had a little rose budding between the bars. A wary little rose, prickly at times and untrusting, but a rose nonetheless. 

Namjoon smiled secretively. 

Behind him, Jungkook traced over each line carelessly slashed across all that golden skin through the glass, his omega crying out inside him, already projecting out an aura of comfort. 

"I asked if I could help you get better," and his voice was so close that Namjoon knew he could close his eyes and dream of sun-kissed meadows and gurgling brooks with how soothing Jungkook's voice was. 

"From your disappointment, I take it you weren't granted the permission to do so?" 

Jungkook hissed in frustration. "They so clearly don't want you to get the help you deserve!" He ranted. 

"It's enough to me that you asked," Namjoon consoled him, hiding his glee. Just one meeting and Jungkook had spoken for him? It was more than he could have hoped for. 

He turned around slowly and faced Jungkook, eye to eye. They were so close now that he could see every feature on the other's face: from his wide doe eyes to the pout of his lips and the way his fingers gripped the edge of his top. 

Jungkook realized their proximity and backed off slowly, still keeping his eyes trained on Namjoon's as he moved. The older man gave him a lazy smile. 

"I um..ate today," he blurted out suddenly, wanting to break the intense stare and Namjoon laughed. 

"As refreshing as I find your honesty, that's not what I wanted to ask you today."

"Oh?" 

"You look tired," Namjoon pointed out, looking at the faint circles beneath his eyes. 

Jungkook smoothened his hands over his face self-consciously. He didn't want to dredge up everything from yesterday in front of Namjoon. "I couldn't sleep last night," he muttered and then blushed immediately, hearing the way it sounded when he said it out loud. As if the prospect of meeting Namjoon was the reason why he was too keyed up to sleep. 

"It's not what you're thinking." Jungkook whined. "It was just yesterday. I sleep just fine every other day." 

"Glad to know," Namjoon teased. "So," he walked around the room, pulling over a shirt (thankfully, because Jungkook wasn't sure his sanity could take it any longer), "what kind of questions do you have for me today?" 

Jungkook smiled too, at the obvious disdain in his voice. 

After his last visit, he'd been coached and prepped extensively, asked to memorize dozens of questions phased to sound off-handed and non intrusive when they were anything but. The fact that they thought Namjoon would be the type to fall for that type of bureaucratic nonsense only spoke of their lack of understanding towards him. 

"None of which I want to know the answer to," he said instead and he preened at the way Namjoon raised his eyes at him, delighted by the way he'd phrased his words. 

"Pray tell then, Jungkook-ssi, what do you want to know?" 

And he had a thousand questions to ask, a million little things he wanted to ask Namjoon but he knew his time was limited. As much as he wanted to know about every facet of Namjoon's life, he didn't have the leisure to do so. 

"Why did you save me?" 

Jungkook held his breath as he asked the question, waiting for Namjoon's response eagerly. A part of him forced himself to stay sane - to accept that the reason may be practical and not romanticize the notion. 

To his disappointment, Namjoon shook his head. "Ask me something else," he said firmly, not giving him any leeway. 

"But you'd said you'd answer me as long as I really wanted to know! That you'd be honest!" His voice had taken on a desperate tinge which was really embarrassing to hear but he didn't care at that moment. He was devastated. 

"And I'm not lying to you, am I? I'm merely avoiding your question." 

"But why?" 

"Because you aren't ready to know the answer yet, little rose. Don't ask me things you can't handle knowing the truth about." 

It was a warning. A word of caution. And if he had any sense of self-preservation, he'd take heed and  make a run for it. But he'd gotten this far by trudging on. Why would he stop now? 

"Try me," he challenged. "You don't even know me,I can handle it," he insisted. 

How cute, Namjoon thought as he looked at the little omega putting up a show of bravery in front of him. He cried at the sight of his scars but wanted answers to the very questions that could send him running for the hills. The contradictions were very attractive. 

"Keep coming by," he repeated just as he'd done the last time, "and maybe I will."

Jungkook pouted in defeat and his reactions were so unbelievably cute that Namjoon had to clench his hands into fists, aggressiveness bleeding into his very being at the picture he was presented with. 

"You keep saying that," Jungkook complained. "But I don't think you ever will."

"I won't break my promises to you, little rose. If you believe nothing else, believe that." 

Jungkook sighed, looking around his room. "Can I ask you something else then?" 

"Of course." 

"It's from the standard questionnaire," he warned in advance. 

"I'll try to make my answer more interesting than the question is," he said wryly. 

"When you were brought in, you were feral," Jungkook recited the chain of events familiar to him. "You wouldn't cooperate and you refused to talk to anyone, even people who you were close to." 

"That's true. 

"Do you have a guess as to what triggered it?" He asked clinically, empathy bleeding into his voice, now lower and calmer, infused with encouragement and subtlety. 

It was his professional voice, Namjoon realized belatedly and felt a frisson of pride rush through him. From just his voice, he could tell that Jungkook was amazing at what he did. 

"I lost something," Namjoon said slowly, making sure Jungkook heard each and every word. "Something taken from me forcibly." 

Jungkook's eyes widened. This was probably the first time he'd admitted to anything of medical significance and even if it was just an intuition, it was worth digging deeper. 

"This is a good thing!" He yelled out suddenly, the possibilities whirring in his head. If they managed to find it, Namjoon could potentially revert to how he used to be! It was a far simpler solution than he'd ever deemed possible and it brought forth a beam of hope. 

"What if we look for it?" He asked excitedly. "Then there's a chance you can get better!" 

It was highly possible. If the trigger was reversed or eliminated, the aggression would lessen. The rage would fade. There wouldn't be a reason to keep him here anymore! It made him incredibly happy to find out such a simple possibility existed and he was disappointed that nobody knew just because they couldn't get Namjoon to talk to them.

"That's not necessary," Namjoon interrupted his thoughts. "We don't need to search for anything."

"But why?" Why wouldn't Namjoon want to get better? 

"Because it's already found its way back to me ."

… 

Chapter Text

take on my knees

(stuck with you in your dreams) 

Because it's already found its way back to me. 

The words echoed in his head even days later as he gazed out the window, the scenery a blur as he passed it by. 

What did Namjoon mean by that? 

Did that mean Namjoon had known what'd triggered him all this while? Then why hadn't he been able to take hold of it? Grab it back? It made no sense, he could have been a free man by now if he wanted to. Why did he wait? Or was it just a coincidence? Luck? That he'd been able to recall what'd caused all of this? 

He dismissed the thought immediately. 

He'd only met the man all of two times but for Jungkook, it was enough. Someone of Namjoon's caliber didn't leave things to fate. People like him didn't let things slip out of their control. He was the kind of person who was careful, coordinated and most importantly, patient . No normal man could stay holed up in the kind of cage Namjoon was sequestered in and not crack but he'd done it, hadn't he? And he'd not just done it, but he'd successfully managed to perplex everyone who'd watched him to do it as well - all in utter silence. 

Someone like that - someone with that kind of impenetrable aura - didn't play dice with chance. They didn't close their eyes and hope for the best. No, people like Namjoon played chess. Played it masterfully - strategically. And he'd clearly been playing a very long game till now - one that was coming to a spectacular close. That much was obvious. 

No, that wasn't what had been eating at him.

Ever since he'd left the atrium, Jungkook felt like he had a pit in his stomach. A deep sinking feeling which threatened to pull him under into dark waters. Deep, pitch black waters which would tide over him and leave him lost to the world. He couldn't comprehend what was happening to him - his omega dangerously silent for once. It was a jarring sensation, to be so out of sync with his inner self - not to be able to understand the violent assault of emotions threatening to swallow him whole. 

It took him a frighteningly long time to admit it to himself. The reason why he'd had a goddamn near panic attack. 

Namjoon finally having no legitimate reason to be held in meant that Jungkook would probably never see him again. 

It was a horrible thought. One he wanted to vanquish from his mind the very moment he'd pinpointed it. It was supposed to be a good thing, he repeated to himself  over and over again. The very best. Doctors were supposed to be happy to never have to see their patients again - their recovery being the ultimate goal. 

But then again, he'd never exactly viewed Namjoon as a patient either, had he? From the very beginning, he'd let himself be drawn to that man like a moth to a flame, like a man obsessed. Like an omega to the alpha meant for them.

He shuddered. Banish the thought .

He should never have let himself get this far with Namjoon, should have thrown himself as far away from him as possible. Should have recognized the warning signs from his omega from the very start - should have listened to the instincts that were veritably screaming at him. Then he wouldn't be in this situation - pining for a man who could never be his.

It was far better having not known at all than to have longed for and to lose. 

After all, you couldn't miss the ambrosia you'd never tasted. 

The thoughts followed him all the way till his doorstep. Loomed over him as he slid his boots off, occupied him as he started to wash up, to heat up some leftovers and get started on that pesky assignment he'd been given. 

It was proving to be futile though, concentrating on anything else other than Namjoon - brilliant, mysterious, beautiful Namjoon. His blank essay on mental illness and linguistics was as interesting as a limp noodle when compared to what he could be thinking - cough fantasizing cough - about. 

He slumped back with a groan, eyes glued to the back of the main door. He'd covered up the offensive message with one of those free flyers you got off the streetside. Now, whenever he looked at the door, all he could see was a cartoon figure advertising free pizza. It was certainly better than before. 

After a good amount of overthinking, he'd made up his mind to tell Hoseok about the message. At first, he was worried that the other man would be dismissive. Or worse, disbelieving. For all they knew, it was a one time incident and nobody had been harmed. The man already thought he was delicate and Jungkook didn't want to solidify his preconceived notions about him. 

But the longer he let it go, the tenser he got and in a split second decision, he'd fired off a quick text to his boss, asking him if they could meet the next day. 

There. Now he could rest quietly. 

If only someone could tell that to his dreams as well. 

… 

When he walked in to work the next morning, he was, much to his surprise, accosted by Kai who was pacing in front of his desk. 

He perked up when he saw Jungkook, a slight smile curving up onto his face as he propped himself off the desk and put a casual hand around Jungkook's shoulders. 

Jungkook tensed immediately at the contact.

Kai let go when Jungkook stiffened under his touch, giving him a curious stare. "Do you want to go get breakfast together Jungkook-ssi?" 

Jungkook paused awkwardly, looking at him with an owl eyed stare and pursed lips. It'd been weeks since he'd started working here and the most his senior had done was give him a semiformal nod of acknowledgement as he followed after their professor like an obedient penguin. 

Kai seemed to guess at what was going through his mind. 

"I know I haven't been the most forthcoming," he admitted, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle and Jungkook wanted to snark at him - you think? "But it's been a busy couple of weeks and I finally have the time to get to know the wonderboy everyone's talking about." 

Jungkook cringed at the way he said it - like it was a juvenile nickname he couldn't be bothered to care less about but he still turned and followed Kai. He only had two seniors and he didn't want to start off on the wrong foot with either of them. He knew that was the easiest way to make his career a living hell. Sehun and he often made small talk and he was genuinely kind, the kind of mentor Jungkook knew was rare to encounter. He'd helped Jungkook familiarize himself with a lot of things at the start and Jungkook owed him for that already. Kai, on the other hand, really had been too busy to consider him at the start. 

He was obviously the professor's favorite - hanging off his every word in an attempt to curry favor. From what he'd heard, he'd been extremely busy assisting a case and it'd only come to a close a few days ago. At his age, Professor Kang was considered somewhat of a veteran around the offices - his mind more than capable of carrying through even when his body wasn't upto the task. He was far too feeble to go around everywhere, lugging around dozens of files and he was in permanent need of an assistant. Well, it was clear who that was. At least Kai hadn't been lying about being too busy to see him. 

Jungkook didn't blame him in the slightest. In places this competitive, it was free for all and Jungkook only wished he had the cut throat drive to work up the ladder like he'd seen his colleagues always do. Kai was obviously well versed in hospital politics, not averse to picking the right pillar to latch onto if it could catapult him on the path to success. 

Frankly, Jungkook didn't know why he suddenly wanted to associate himself with him. 

The answer became clear when they walked into the cafeteria and Jungkook saw Professor Kang seated at the corner table, silently sipping on a cup of tea, a shawl draped around his shoulders even though it was relatively sunny outside. 

They weren't being subtle at all. 

Jungkook gave Kai a look of reproach but the other man didn't acknowledge him at all, placing a light hand on the small of his back as he guided him forwards, subtly keeping him from scuttling towards the exit. 

Breakfast his foot. This was an ambush. 

When they got closer, his professor gave both of them a small smile and gestured to the seats in front of him. They both bowed slightly before settling in and Jungkook stayed put, with his hands clenched into fists on his thighs, waiting for someone to speak first. 

"How do you like your tea, boys?" 

I don't, Jungkook wanted to say. I like coffee. Or better yet, banana milk. But he also wanted to sound like an adult so all he said was, "black please, no sugar."

It was Tae's style. Utterly bland but also, according to Tae, a total classic. Kai recited an order for a complicated ice tea to the waiter and exchanged a meaningful stare with their professor. 

He was right. This was an intervention. 

"So Jungkook-ssi, are you coping well?" 

Was he? Considering the majority of his work was arranging files in the library and filing cold cases, he wasn't sure what was there to cope with. There wasn't any set schedule to classes, either, nor was there much of an audience for them. Considering it was just the three of them, classes were often reduced to extra hours to catch up on assignments and some additional reading. Which was fine, of course. This wasn't med school anymore. In fact, he was glad he didn't have to sit through hour-long sessions of lazily made PowerPoint presentations. He didn't shadow their professor on other cases either, so he wasn't as busy as Kai. Not to say he didn't have his hands full with Namjoon. 

"I'm doing fine," he replied politely, looking at the small plate of biscuits placed in front of his cup of tea. "I'm learning a lot."

About myself, he didn't say. 

Like how deviously handsome alphas could be.

How all those stories about innocent maidens being seduced by headstrong alphas weren't as unrealistic as he'd thought. 

How he was finally starting to think that being an omega wasn't all that bad. 

He took a quick sip of tea to hide the rising blush on his face. 

"More than fine," I would say, his professor commented, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a silk embroidered handkerchief. "I don't think there's anyone who hasn't heard about how well you've done with our most difficult inmate!" 

They laughed good naturedly but Jungkook frowned slightly behind his raised hand. There was something so greasy about the word. Inmate. Like reducing Namjoon to a common criminal. Some low level knucklehead who hotwired cars or jumped houses and spent the rest of his days pumping iron in a county jail when that's the farthest thing from what Namjoon was. He was… majestic. A being unto himself. Even if he was a criminal, he was - 

Whoa.

Even if? 

Jungkook choked slightly at the direction his thoughts were headed. He couldn't possibly be defending immorality, could he? 

"Thank you," he bowed slightly. 

"However," the other man started, and Jungkook's hackles were raised. "I worry that it's going to be too much of a burden to you."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Visiting Namjoon for an hour each week was supposed to be a burden but arranging the archives alphabetically for hours on a stretch was not? Where was he going with this? 

"You're still a new student," he said gently. "I'm afraid this will take a..toll on you." 

"I'm grateful for your concern but I'm doing fine, professor." He didn't mean for his voice to come out so grating but he didn't like where this was going. 

There was an uncomfortable silence in which the other two gave each other not so subtle looks and Jungkook wondered if he should have been a little more delicate. 

"Jungkook-ssi, I'm very pleased with your achievements but capabilities aside," he finally began, "there's a small issue with things as they are." 

"Oh?" 

"Not to doubt your skills but seeing the significance of this case and how much the outcome rests on the department, there's been some internal discussion recently -" a private talk, he meant - Jungkook could read between the lines " - and as your professor, I think this case should be assigned to somebody else. For instance, Kai here. He's an exemplary professional and he'd carry on wonderfully."

Jungkook almost bit his tongue so he didn't start screaming the place down. It didn't take a genius to see what was going on here. He could see how tempting the opportunity sounded from an outside perspective: single handedly managing to deal with a sensationally charged alleged psychopath. An enigma. A mystery. But for these people, above all, Namjoon was a headline. A credit on their resume. A check to their careers. 

It was nigh impossible all these years, since the man hadn't spoken a word. But now that it was out that he was capable of giving them what they potentially wanted, it was unsurprising that they wanted to take over the case. In fact, Jungkook cursed himself for not anticipating it sooner - a formal request for him to acquiesce the opportunity to a senior member of his faculty. It was considered the polite thing to do. And who else to volunteer other than the lead professor's veritable boot-licker? It was the safe thing to do, and in any other situation, he might've done it too but this was Namjoon, goddammit. 

Namjoon was his. 

His patient, he meant. But still, he wasn't not going to see this through. 

"I don't think that'd be the best thing to do," he spoke up, voice shaky. 

He received surprised looks, the other two clearly not expecting him to talk back. 

"I've been handling the case since the start and I've had the best results so far," he forced himself to stay factual. "It would be against the patient's best interests to switch doctors now," he tried to argue. 

"Any delays caused by a change can be compensated," Kai spoke up, "but those due to a lack of practice cannot. Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is your first case on the medicolegal side, isn't it? It would be a shame if your inexperience caused a holdup." 

Why, this little twerp. 

Jungkook turned sideways in his seat, looking at Kai blankly, as if daring him to say another word about his supposed faults. 

"I thought it was the result which mattered," he reminded him, "not the background of the person bringing them. Especially considering the three year holdup was caused in spite of the presence of all these practiced professionals." It was a jab at their inability in getting nowhere with Namjoon since he'd been incarcerated and for a moment, he worried that he'd gone too far. 

Kai fumbled, clearly flustered by how bold he was being. They'd clearly expected him to meekly hand things over, that much was obvious by now. He stared at their professor, flabbergasted at the sheer lack of respect and received a calculated stare in response. 

"Kai," the older man spoke for the first time in a while. "Why don't you go ahead first? Get my files ready for today's appointments. Give us a few moments alone?" 

It was posed as a suggestion when it was anything but. It was a crystal clear dismissal and it was obvious that Kai wanted to stay and try to wriggle his way through but he fell silent at one hard look from their professor. But he failed to hide his frustration entirely since before he left, he whirred on Jungkook, spitting out the words with none of his previous ease. 

"If you know what's good for you, you'd simply leave! " 

And the words wrenched him back to unlocked doors and splintered wood, fear and panic rushing through him. Could he have..no. The possibility was simply too far-fetched to conceive. Threatening a student? His career would be down the drain if someone ever found out. Yet, the anger in his voice had been real, the word framed with malice and aggression as he aimed it all at Jungkook. 

Jungkook watched Kai leave angrily, his mind whirring at the implications of what had just happened. 

"Jungkook-ssi."

He turned to his professor, thoughts interrupted. The man looked far calmer than he'd expected him to be, especially after he'd seen his student rush out in such an undignified manner. 

"I seem to have underestimated you. You're very insistent on continuing."

"It just seems wrong to do that to a patient," he said half-truthfully. "Potentially messing up their progress like that." 

"Hmm…I wonder if you're so concerned about all your patients," he looked at Jungkook over the rim of his cup, "or is it only the ones you share a past with?"

"Wh..what?" Jungkook almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. 

"We run background checks, you know," he mentioned casually, as if he hadn't just toppled over Jungkook's entire world. "It's standard procedure," he explained. "But imagine my surprise when one of your old addresses was awfully familiar."

At this point, Jungkook was floundering, unable to say anything. After the incident, he'd tried to bury his past as much as he could, never associating himself with that house and those people anymore. He knew the articles about his parents' deaths were publicized but not the information on where Kim Namjoon had been found. From what he knew, it was something only Hoseok knew. Only the higher authorities. Someone who wasn't alloted to the case? No, he wasn't supposed to know this. He had to lie. Come up with something to say. Something. Anything - 

"No, I don't think you're concerned Jungkook-ssi. What I think you are is biased." 

Jungkook had dug his nails so hard into his palm, it'd leave crescents for days.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he tried to fib but even to him, the lie fell flat. Anyone could tell he was hiding something. 

"Jungkook-ssi, please. We're both far too professional to let petty lies carry this conversation." He suddenly broke into a wet, hacking cough and took a hearty gulp of the ginger tea in his hand, closing his eyes at the burn. 

He looked at the older man - really looked at him, for once. For all his frailty, for his constitution, he sure was a wry old fox. He had to think fast on his feet here. If someone else came to know… 

"Now," he started, "I don't have the faintest idea as to why that man was on your property the same night of such an unfortunate accident, if one could really call it that." He gave Jungkook a pointed look as if asking him how he didn't see the obvious. 

"Kim Namjoon wasn't responsible for what happened that day," he gritted out. 

"What naivete! How can you say that for sure? I don't presume it's something he told you and you so conveniently forgot to mention it to us." 

Jungkook opened his mouth to tell him the obvious reason - that he wouldn't have saved his life if he'd set fire to the damn building himself but he immediately stopped, realization striking him. 

The only thing Professor Kang knew was that Namjoon had been present on the same property on the same day his parents had been murdered. Whoever had told him about it hadn't mentioned everything. He didn't know that Jungkook had been there too that night. He didn't know that Namjoon had saved his life. 

There was still a way to get out of this, he thought hopefully. 

"Well, he hasn't admitted to any illegal activity…so innocent until proven guilty, I guess." He tried to make his voice sound nonchalant. Like it was the last thing bothering him. 

"You seem incredibly passive," his professor noted bluntly, "for someone who's dealing with the possible criminal involved in your parent's murders." 

"I'm not being passive," he nearly yelled. "I'm trying not to mix up something that happened in my past with someone who just happened to be at the same spot. You said it yourself, it can be a coincidence. Contrary to what you're suggesting," he said, calmer now, "I'm trying to be as unbiased as possible."

His heart was beating so loud that he worried it'd give him away, doubts starting to plague him. The man was smart. Beyond intelligent. If he didn't buy this - if he stopped Jungkook from seeing Namjoon because he suspected they were in cahoots or something, Jungkook would be in serious trouble. It wouldn't just affect his omega. He could potentially lose  his job even if the rumor got out that he had a link to the notorious Kim Namjoon. 

One part of him was deadly scared. About his future, about the implications of someone knowing about this teensy little fact. The other part of him was laughing hysterically at what his professor was trying to imply: a ridiculous accusation that Jungkook was on Namjoon's side or something when it was the farthest thing from the truth. For God's sake, he was desperately trying to get answers from Namjoon to the same questions he was being asked right now! 

"For your sake, I hope it is Jungkook. But regardless of the truth, I want you off the case!"

Jungkook's stomach dropped. 

"Why? Other than pure speculation and rampant coincidences, there's no reason for me to be gone! I've managed to accomplish more than anyone has till date!"

He sighed tiredly, smoothing out the wrinkles on his forehead as he looked at Jungkook wearily. 

"I'm concerned about you. It may be speculation and it may be coincidence but ever since I was tipped off -" by who? "- about a possible connection between you two, I've wanted you off the case.  Kai is safer. He can handle things from here. I know you think I'm doing this because I favor Kai but I promise you, that's not it. You may feel that things just aligned the way they did due to pure luck but Kim Namjoon is the only person who knows the truth and as far as trust goes, he's the last person to put it in." 

"No," Jungkook declared. "I'm not dropping this." He stood firm, glaring back at the man, as if daring him to say something. He was familiar with the cajoling tone the man had adopted. It was something he used often when he wanted to coax someone into listening to him. 

"You know this is merely a formality, don't you? If anyone gets to know about this, you'd be taken off the case anyway. I'm trying to give you an easy out here - save your career while you're at it." 

"Nobody would know unless you say anything," Jungkook continued to argue. 

"And I don't want to, trust me Jungkook-ssi. You have a brilliant career ahead of you. I don't want to wreck that -" he sure wasn't acting that way " - but if you continue to put yourself at risk, I have no other choice." 

Jungkook fell silent, staring at his freshly polished shoes. He didn't polish them often. Never, in fact. 

What's the point? He used to tell Tae. They'd just get dirty again. 

But he'd done it today. Because he had a job now. A serious one he couldn't afford to put at risk. 

But also - for the first time in his life, his omega was happy. It was a temporary happiness. A brief interlude before he caged it away again but his omega was delirious with joy. 

"It's a big case," Professor Kang said, misunderstanding the reason for his hesitation. "I know how important this would be to your career but please put your safety first. Take a week. Think about it. Kai would do an equally good job."

"I'm sure he would," Jungkook sneered, "considering he won't have much to do."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" 

"It means that I don't think Kim Namjoon's going to stay there much longer. He has little reason to."

The other man's eyes widened in shock. 

"But he's feral…" 

"He won't be. Not for much longer," Jungkook said strongly. "Then it doesn't make a difference who interrogates him, does it? 

Professor Kang observed him critically for a few minutes before schooling his expression. 

"What I said before still stands. I want you off this case, Jungkook-ssi. I hope you'll withdraw silently."

He got up, pulling his shawl closer around his body. 

"But if you refuse, then I'll have no option but to make you do it."

… 

Jungkook was numb to his surroundings when he walked out of the cafeteria, staring at his shoes as he hedged forwards. 

He had a week. 

A week before everything possibly went to shit. 

Though he didn't believe all that spiel about doing it for his own safely, in all honesty, Professor Kang was right. What did Jungkook really know about Namjoon anyway? Nothing that mattered. Nothing that made any sense. A link to someone like him would have been enough to scare anyone off long ago. The only thing keeping him was his omega. That and a burning sense of curiosity and spite against everyone who told him he couldn't do it. 

He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost ran straight into one Jung Hoseok, who straightened him by the waist, holding him until he righted himself and then pulled his arms back immediately, flashing him a warm smile.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry -" 

"Penny for your thoughts?"

He steadied himself and where to begin? 

"I remember your text," Hoseok said helpfully. "Would you like to step into my office for a moment? Tell me what's going on?"

Jungkook took him up on the offer eagerly. Yesterday, when he'd sent Hoseok that text in the spur of the moment, he'd meant to tell him about the threats. Meant to ask for help. Now, it was the last thing he wanted to share - not to give anyone any more reasons to consider taking him off the case. 

He stepped into Hoseok's office, his eyes flashing to the framed picture of Yoongi and him. In some way, it calmed him, imagining Yoongi's soothing voice in a situation like this. 

"So?" 

Hoseok was leaned up against his desk. He was dressed in annoyingly bright colors: a daffy yellow suit that would have looked ostentatious on anyone other than him. 

Jungkook got straight to the point. "You told me Namjoon was found at a crime scene, right?" 

Hoseok nodded, silently telling him to go on. 

"You knew, didn't you? That it was my family home that was the scene of crime."

Because it was impossible for someone of his caliber to miss. The head of a crime control unit wouldn't have let him through without a background check. Of course he wouldn't. 

"Jungkook…"

"What else did you find out?" He demanded. "What else did you get to know when you checked up on me?"

"The exact location where Kim Namjoon was found is a well classified fact," Hoseok said strictly. "Yes, it does happen to be the same area where your house was burnt down but like I said, we have no idea if that was meant to be or an ill timed coincidence. Like I said, we have no idea about anything at all. All I know about you from that time is that you were badly hurt and taken to a hospital by first responders at the scene. That's it. That's all we have on you - all that's relevant. We have absolutely no evidence to prove there's a link between you two at all, if that's what you're worried about." 

Jungkook could almost slump down in relief. They didn't know either that it was Kim Namjoon who'd saved him. 

But there was still something he had to know. 

"Did you hire me because of this 'coincidence'?" He asked hesitantly. Because he had to know. "Because you think I share a connection with him?" 

"No Jungkook, of course not ." Hoseok ran a hand down his face. "I scouted you out because of your track record, for goodness sake. The background checks are done for each of our employees. Yes, I was surprised when I found out about your past, but I never hired you because of it. In fact, I ran the check once I offered you the job, not before. I never even anticipated you two would meet. If you remember correctly, I didn't even want you interrogating Kim Namjoon. You insisted after you found out about him yourself. Said that your talents weren't being utilized to their full potential, remember?" 

Jungkook relaxed, tears he didn't know he'd been holding back dripping into his lap. 

"So you don't think I'll be biased? Now that I'm assigned to him?" He'd never asked Hoseok this before - too scared to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

But Hoseok just snorted. "Jungkook, if anything, you'd probably be the hardest on him, considering how suspicious his being there was. I don't have to worry about you being biased in his favor. If anything, I should probably be worried about you incriminating him on purpose." 

"Then why aren't you?" He asked in a watery voice. 

Hoseok's eyes softened. "It's because I believe you're not that kind of person," he said gently. "You're fair and just and have a strong moral code. I knew you'd be perfect for anyone you chose to analyze - and this doesn't just extend to Kim Namjoon. Besides, I'd be crazy to replace you now, considering you're the only one having had any modicum of success with that man." 

Jungkook nodded weakly, grateful for the trust being placed on him. 

"I have to ask though, why the sudden questions? Did something happen?" 

Jungkook explained the morning's events to him, telling him about how his professor had come to know about his past - how he'd formed his opinion about it and the conditions he'd set for the week. 

Hoseok did not react calmly to it. 

"It's classified information!" He was legitimately screaming by now. "Nobody is supposed to know about all this. And threatening you to drop the case? Someone I personally assigned to the job? On whose authority?" 

He was angrier than Jungkook had ever seen him, running his hands through his hair, making a mess of the well styled fluff. 

"So…?"

"You know what? You don't have to worry one bit about this nonsense," he declared to Jungkook. "I'll take care of it," he assured him. 

"Thank you so much Hoseok-ssi!" 

… 

By the time he finally got home, he was dead on his feet, the only places he wanted to go were his bubble bath and then to bed and exactly in that order.

He should have known by now, however, that the universe simply refused to let him live in peace. 

Lying at his front door was a standard brown envelope, innocent and unassuming and if it weren't for the fact that it was almost seven in the evening, he would have thought it was just another piece of mail. 

He should just leave it at the door. 

He really should. 

But curiosity could be a real bitch sometimes. 

He slipped the envelope into his hands, it didn't weigh much. He tore it open and into his palm, slid out photos. 

They weren't horrifying. 

Or gruesome. 

No, they were simply pictures of himself. 

From every single fucking moment of that day. 

And on top of each one of them was the same word - written in bold. 

LEAVE.

He was being stalked. 

Jungkook was, frankly, surprised at how calmly he was taking it. But considering he'd spent a day being blackmailed, coerced and pushed around, this was the least of his worries.

By now, he knew at least two people who wanted him to stop what he was doing and they must be pretty desperate if this was what they were resorting to. 

Well, they weren't going to get what they wanted. 

He crumpled the picture up in his hand and threw them in the trash. After that, he stormed into his house and started to pack a bag. Staying overnight in a house targeted by someone? Yeah, he was brave but he wasn't stupid. 

… 

So it was almost ten in the night and here he was, a simple rucksack and a coat hung over his arm - standing at the reception desk of the closest motel he could find. He was tired, hungry and freezing his ass off in line waiting until he could get himself a room for the night. 

He knew it wasn't a permanent solution but he reasoned it didn't have to be. He couldn't exactly go to the police. The inspection would open a whole can of worms he didn't want being opened. And it'd probably cause more problems for Hoseok-ssi, he thought guiltily. Since he had a good hunch who was doing so, he felt less threatened to a certain extent. It was like knowing you had a roach in your house, he reasoned. It still gave you anxiety but it was better to know where it was than to not see it at all. 

Of course, he wasn't taking it lightly. He was still wary. But he understood that this was only until he was still assigned to Namjoon. And if he was being honest, it wouldn't be for long. If Namjoon was telling the truth, he would start getting better soon and they'd have no reason to see each other anymore. 

He vehemently ignored the way his heart felt like it was being stabbed. 

Thankfully, that was the exact moment he reached the front of the line and he sighed in relief. 

"Room for one, please." 

However, the receptionist gave him a flustered bow. 

"I'm so sorry!" She said in that annoyingly robotic sympathetic way that service workers were trained to behave in. "But we're all booked out tonight!" 

They'd got be kidding him. Even though the universe apparently hated him, some mercy would be really nice at this point. 

Because he hadn't been waiting for about half an hour just to be told there were no more fucking rooms. 

Jungkook spaced out as the lady in front of him kept going on and on about the nearest hotels in the area (which just happened to be miles away) and how they could book him a cab (in this weather, he didn't dare to hope) but he just waved her off. 

He'd probably have to go home, he resigned himself to the fact. Go home and sleep with one eye open until he could deal with a safe place to stay. 

And chance being axed to death. 

But before anything - 

"Could you at least let me charge my phone here for a while?" 

The woman nodded eagerly, probably to make up for earlier and Jungkook handed over this now dead cell phone before deciding to lounge out in the lobby for a while. 

It wasn't a fancy place by any means. Just a tacky portrait of the founders hung up over the couch in the waiting room, a fake plant placed there next to it. At this time in the night, there were no bellboys either, the ding of the lift the only sound interrupting the dead peace on the lower levels. 

There was, however, a mini-bar.

And boy, was that a bad idea. 

But considering the good ones never seemed to do much for him anyway, how much could this hurt? 

So that's how Jungkook found himself in a high top stool, ordering neat whiskey near midnight. It was a terrible idea in general, considering the circumstances, not to mention he had a shitty tolerance too. But he'd had an equally terrible week and he felt he deserved the liberty to make some terrible decisions. 

The drink burned as he threw it down in one gulp and hissed out loud, eyes watering as he ordered another one, voice hoarse. 

"Tough day?" 

The voice reached over to him and he turned to see a man his age, maybe a couple years older, sitting next to him, legs crossed as he gave Jungkook a sympathetic look. 

"The absolute worst," Jungkook agreed, reaching over to curl his hands around the glass pushed his way. 

"Cheers to that huh?" 

And why the hell not? He reached over and clinked his glass with the other's, downing it in one go. 

He didn't usually make small talk with strangers in bars but he was also experiencing a lot of things for the very first time. 

And he was lonely. Some harmless conversation wouldn't hurt now, would it? 

"You come here often?" 

"Not at all," Jungkook replied. "Do you?" 

"Ah, not really. I was here for business. It's my first time in the big city, if I'm being honest." 

He didn't look like that, Jungkook bit back from saying. In his classy pinstriped suit and matching black tie paired down with the gelled back hair, he looked the epitome of a city slick businessman. But then he looked at Jungkook and in the dim lights, he could make out his face clearer and oh, that was a proper countryside smile right there. 

Gentle and curved around the edges, eyes crinkling slightly. It wasn't the sharp twitch of the lips he saw so often in Seoul. It was softer, more subdued.

Just as Jungkook was thinking of what to say to keep the conversation going, he was interrupted, and quite rudely if he had to say so himself. 

"It's closing time," a voice chimed in and Jungkook looked up to a man on the other side of the counter, glaring at the man beside him. He wasn't the same bartender as before. This man was younger and he was clearly sensitive about sticking to strict timing. 

If his companion seemed offended with the curt way he was spoken to, he didn't show it, hopping off the stool and paying his due. 

Jungkook did the same and moved out. He'd have to remember to take back his phone before he left though. 

"Ah, well it was nice meeting you," the man said as they got ready to part ways. "One last conversation in the city before I head back home tonight," he said, voice upbeat. 

But Jungkook only heard one thing. 

"You're leaving tonight?" 

"Yes, in one hour, to be exact."

Jungkook took back all the times he'd cursed the universe, thanking it on his knees now. 

"Look, this is going to sound a little desperate but I actually came here for a room to stay overnight," he shared, watching the man's eyes light up in realization. "If you don't mind, can you - "

"Oh, don't worry! I understand completely. The holiday rush can be madness," his eyes twinkled conspiratorially.

"Thank you so much!"

It was a quick transfer and he bowed to the man gratefully for his help, making his way to his new room for the night. Without even bothering to unpack, he flipped onto the bed like a marionette and sighed at the relief which coursed through him.

That was until he remembered what had been pricking at him for the last couple of moments and jolted upright. 

He'd never asked the man his name. 

Oh well, Jungkook flipped back down. 

It wasn't like he'd ever see him again. 

… 

Morning came quickly, bright light glaring into his still shut eyes, waking him with a groan. He tried to pull the starchy sheets over his eyes but the damage was done. He was already wide awake and grumpy. 

And apparently, the universe seemed to have it out for him that day. 

His alarm hadn't gone off and he swore out loud when he realized he had less than fifteen minutes to smack himself awake and get his ass to work. 

If that wasn't bad enough, he realized he'd forgotten to pack for work, groaning out loud when all he could find was a pair of jeans in his hastily packed rucksack. What had he been thinking? 

He shoved them on hastily, combing through his mess of a hair with his fingers, trying to make it look like he hadn't just crawled out of bed. He didn't bother changing out of his pajama top since his coat would cover it anyway. 

And as he skipped down, for a moment, he considered skipping breakfast entirely. He just didn't have the time. But then be remembered. 

He was meeting Namjoon today . 

It was like his omega was hardwired not to displease Namjoon - shoveling down a crusty bagel as he headed out into the street, crisp wind blowing through his hair. 

He may have been tired from everything that had happened but the moment he walked into work and saw the familiar black car that would take him to Namjoon, he was wide awake. Painfully alert. Each of his senses flaring to life as he sat shaded by tinted windows, his heart beating harder with every second he got closer. 

This meeting would be different. Jungkook was too high strung for meaning - for answers - for this time to be the calm, ubiquitous meeting Namjoon tried to set for them the previous times. Jungkook wouldn't be satisfied by that. Not this time. 

It was more of a thought he wanted to manifest instead of something absolute. Because with Kim Namjoon, nothing was absolute. He could arch an eyebrow and someone's entire day could be tilted off course. He was built from a mixture of possibilities and impossibilities alike, the way others were built from certainties. From facts which defined them. But nothing defined Kim Namjoon. A definition excluded the possibility of change and Namjoon - Namjoon embodied change. That was his one certainty - that he could shed his skin and become someone else in the blink of an eye. 

Jungkook let himself believe, foolishly, that he was one of the few who were afforded the privilege of glancing upon his true skin. 

The atrium came sooner than he'd expected. Or maybe the minutes had been devoured by his thoughts. He didn't know anymore. 

Jungkook tried to stay calm as he walked the familiar path, trying to force his omega to settle instead of stomping up a storm in his heart. But it was for moot when he laid eyes on Namjoon.

Oh.

He hadn't been lying. 

The changes were subtle - very subtle - but Jungkook could see them like they were highlighted with neon paint. 

His eyes were still crimson, but they were lighter now, like some of the red had bled out in the week since Jungkook had seen him. His aura was - how to describe it - more subdued? It was still sharp, the scent of begonias filling the room but it was more pleasant now, the ever present aggression not overlying it anymore. Jungkook's eyes went to the back of his hands and to his dismay, all he saw was smooth smooth skin. He'd been able to take back the claws. To rein in the beast. 

He really was healing.  

And Jungkook's omega was furious about it. 

It was a wildly irrational feeling and if he had the slightest sense left, he would have understood how unprofessional he was being but all he could think in that moment was - how dare he? How dare this alpha sink into his heart and then try to escape as if he'd never done so? He knew it was his omega leading him astray and he should have taken a step back to rein in his emotions, to calm himself and he would have managed to do it too, if Namjoon didn't flash that infuriatingly heart wrenching smile at him. 

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at him, forcing displeasure into his scent, letting his ire perfuse into the room and watched Namjoon's smile fade away. 

Yes, his omega snarled. Let him know he's hurt us. 

For once, Jungkook was glad they were on the same side. 

"Things are going to go differently today," Jungkook spoke finally, infusing authority into his voice. "I've given you enough leeway as it is." 

Namjoon raised an eyebrow at him, clearly surprised with the change in tone, but he recovered smoothly enough. 

"You're upset, little rose."

"Oh really? Didn't know I was being obvious about it," Jungkook snarled. 

Namjoon, infuriating him further, walked back to a nice cushy lounge and sat down languidly, manspreading.

Manspreading. 

When Jungkook had to settle for a cheap motel in the middle of the night because and the very reason for that was lounging on what was probably a very comfy plush pillow. 

Who was the victim here again? 

"We're done with the twenty questions," he said as sharply as he could. "From now on, I will ask you a question and you will reply. That's it. You don't get to ask me anything in return. I've let you play around enough with me." 

But Namjoon just laughed. 

Straight to his face. 

"Ah, I didn't mean to insult you," he clarified when he saw the disgruntled look on Jungkook's face. "But authority really isn't your strong suit, little rose." 

"I've been a doctor for years now," he gritted out, thoroughly offended. "Being authoritative is part of my job. And stop with the nicknames," he ordered, even though his omega whined pitifully at the half-hearted demand. "It's unbecoming of our relationship." 

"And what relationship would that be, little rose?" He smirked. 

"A professional one," he tried to lay emphasis on the word. 

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Namjoon smiled serenely. "And besides, I never meant to imply you were incapable of carrying authority. I merely meant that you were incapable of being authoritative with me. But by all means, do continue. Your tone is…very arousing. "

His voice dropped to something viscous, glazed with sugar towards the end and Jungkook had to avert his eyes at the suggestiveness in his voice. It was the first time he'd downright alluded to something so lewd and Jungkook found himself breathing harder. 

"I don't have to respond to your presumptions of my capabilities," he finally said, trying to get his head back in the game. "But just so you know, you're nothing special Namjoon-ssi. And as per my authority for these sessions, I'm formally asking you to cooperate accordingly." 

Namjoon didn't tease him this time, maybe because he could sense Jungkook was being serious. 

"Very well, doctor, how shall we proceed?"

"I'm going to ask you a series of straightforward questions and you're going to give me equally straightforward answers," he said.

Namjoon simply shrugged nonchalantly. "I've stayed resilient in front of many people, little rose. Watched on as they demanded answers from me. As they tried to force me to bend to their whims. What makes you think I'll simply give in because you asked?" 

And Jungkook didn't know what possessed him to blurt it out. "Because I'm special," he said and watched Namjoon bite back a laugh at his audacity. 

"Are you?" 

Jungkook averted his eyes in abject embarrassment, wishing a hole would open up right beneath his feet. 

"Don't look away, Jungkook," Namjoon pleaded. "Don't deny me the simple pleasure of those beautiful eyes." 

Jungkook forced himself to maintain eye contact. 

"You are," he whispered. "You are special indeed," he whispered. "My pretty little rose," he murmured, his eyes beckoning Jungkook closer to him and he was weak weak weak. They walked towards each other, the pace of their steps mirroring each other until they were chest to chest, separated by a thin panel of glass.

Always separated. 

Jungkook tilted his head up to look at him, taking in all of Namjoon's features that plagued him in his darkest dreams. Dreams where they were skin to skin. Dreams where he couldn't just see but could touch and scent and feel. Dreams where his omega didn't have to be stifled. Silenced. Dreams where morality was a figment that they left behind for the real world. 

But that's all they were. 

Dreams.

Namjoon traced the contour of his lips through the glass, his eyes following every dip, every curve and his breath started to quicken, fogging up the glass between them. 

"Special," he whispered again and this time, his words left behind their imprint on the glass between them. 

An imprint right where Jungkook's lips had been. 

Jungkook drew back, startled at the intimacy he'd been pulled into. 

God god god. 

And when there was nothing between them - then what? 

He was too scared to know. To even think about it. 

"But because you're so special to me," Namjoon continued, as if he hadn't just tilted his world off its axis, "you'll have to work harder for it." 

"What?" Jungkook said, his voice coming out strangled. 

"I stand by what I said at the start. Ask me what you really want to know and I'll tell you. As long as I get to know something about you too. Equal exchange," he proposed. "Just  because you're special ," he winked at the end. 

It was the same thing he'd asked for at the start. The same indulgence he'd given Jungkook ever since the beginning. And it'd been worlds more than he'd afforded anyone else. 

"But what I won't agree on is a routine ," Namjoon continued. "If I was ready to cooperate with just about anyone, I would've done so already, he reminded Jungkook. No, what I want from you is different, little rose. It has to be you. "

And Jungkook finally realized the gift he was being granted. Because this was all a game to Namjoon, wasn't it? He didn't answer Jungkook's questions because he wanted to. He answered them because Jungkook answered his. 

Quid pro quo. 

And it was an odd sensation. A weird power of undeserving power when he thought about how he could potentially get the answers to questions that people were dying to know, all in exchange for telling Namjoon what he'd had for breakfast. 

Why he wanted to know those was a mystery for another day. 

But Jungkook had almost let his emotions mess this up, hadn't he? If this was anyone else, all the progress till now would have been a waste. All down the drain just due to his frustration. 

Some profesional he was. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, guilt and remorse coursing through him. "You've already been more than forthcoming. I shouldn't have pressured you like this." 

"There's no need to apologize, Jungkook but forgive me for asking," he assessed him critically. "Did something happen? I've never seen you so on edge." 

Jungkook almost slumped down against the wall. 

"Hospital politics," he replied cryptically. "Someone got to know that we share a past. Someone who wasn't supposed to," he revealed, grateful to get it off his chest. 

Namjoon stiffened at that. 

"Who?" He demanded and his voice was ice cold. A call for an answer. 

"Ah," Jungkook waved his hands around. "Just one of my professors," he mumbled but Namjoon wasn't having it. 

"What did they say to you?"

Jungkook didn't respond and Namjoon tapped at the glass in frustration. 

"What. Did. They. Say. To. You?" 

"Told me to drop the case," he admitted. "Said that I couldn't trust you to not have ulterior motives." 

Namjoon didn't relax. 

"And are you going to?" 

"Am I going to what?" 

"Drop the case?" 

And Jungkook debated what to say to him. He was being blackmailed and coerced, forced out of his own home. But it wasn't Namjoon's fault. Jungkook was the one stubbornly clinging to this. But still…this could be a learning experience. 

"Maybe I will," he shrugged, watching Namjoon's reaction carefully. "Maybe I should. You're more trouble than you're worth, Namjoon-ssi." 

It was meant to be light hearted. A casual dismissal. He didn't expect Namjoon to react the way he did. Drawing himself to his full height. Eyes narrowed into slits as he beamed in on Jungkook's now stock still figure. 

"You. Will. Not."

Jungkook was too scared to move. He'd never had anyone speak to him like this - stern and harsh and voice full of compulsion. He'd never had an alpha speak to him like this. He couldn't refute it even if he wanted to. 

"I told you, little rose. I detest lies. You couldn't stop coming to see me if  your life depended on it and we both know that, don't we?  

His voice had taken on a sinister quality and Jungkook was torn between fear and self-preservation and stark arousal. This wasn't the man who asked if he'd eaten and if he'd slept. This wasn't the man who called him a pretty little rose. Dear god, this was the Namjoon who'd held an entire organization by the neck. This was the man who was rumored to be the mafia élite. 

"Answer me!" 

"I wouldn't," Jungkook answered, reflexively, like there was no other alternative to it. Because this was the Kim Namjoon who demanded it. 

Namjoon finally relaxed at his easy acquiescence.

"You're so sweet," he whispered, tongue flicking out to lick over his lips. "So honest. " 

"I - I -" 

Jungkook didn't even know what to say. Didn't know how the conversation had gotten away from him so fast. How fast Namjoon had redirected it his way. 

"Oh I've scared you, haven't I?" 

And the difference in his voice was more shocking than anything else. How it went from an emotionless cadence to a soft, tempting croon. 

"Oh baby no, I'm sorry."

And God, that voice . He could get anyone to do anything with that voice. 

"How do I make this up to you?"

Jungkook didn't know if this was a trap but he took his shot anyway. 

"Tell me what I wanna know, no conditions," he put out and Namjoon laughed incredulously. 

"I should have known better to fall for those eyes," he confessed. "Walked right into that one, didn't I? Brave little thing. You'd never let yourself be outmatched, would you?" 

He didn't sound betrayed or upset that Jungkook would take advantage of the situation this way. In fact, he looked proud?

"How about this? Ask me three questions and I'll answer them."

Jungkook almost choked on air. 

"You're not teasing me again, are you?" 

"I promise you, I'm not. Take it as an apology. Three questions. No more, no less." 

And who was Jungkook if not the first little brat to leap at an opportunity?

"What triggered you?" 

"Something unexpected," Namjoon said to him, without skipping a beat, eyes sparkling and dammit, Jungkook should've known better than to expect a straight answer from him. He tried again, something more direct this time. 

"Did you know about it? All these years, did you know what'd triggered you?" 

"Yes." 

A simple answer but a wealth of implications. He scrambled to choose what he'd ask for the last question. The most logical thing would be to ask him about why he hadn't sought it out then, the trigger. Why he'd remained in place. But there was something he wanted to know, wasn't there? 

"That night of the fire," Jungkook tried again, desperately, "why did you save me?" 

"Because I was asked to."

His heart leapt up, his mind going wild at the unexpected answer. 

"By whom?"

"I believe you've used all your questions up, Jungkook-ssi," he said jovially. He was enjoying this far too much. 

No, this couldn't be happening. 

"Please just -"

"You know," Namjoon interrupted him. "It's often the most obvious things we miss out on."

And Jungkook fell silent, listening to him intensely. 

"Sometimes the answers aren't what we don't see, but what we don't want to see. Have you considered that, little rose?" 

"You're talking in riddles." 

"If only all riddles had such easy answers, we'd have much simpler lives."

"Why can't you ever just give me a straight answer?" Jungkook whined. 

"I've been trying to," Namjoon told him, coming closer. "All your questions, everything you ask me. At the heart, they all have one singular answer."

"Which is?" 

"Oh, you know, little rose. You're too smart not to. You're just too scared to admit it out loud." 

Jungkook stepped back warily at the suggestion in his voice and Namjoon laughed. A bright chip of laughter in an otherwise dreary day. 

"Run along for today, Jungkook. I've perplexed you enough for one day. I'll be here when you choose to come back." 

And he did. 

But Namjoon wasn't. 

… 

Chapter Text

my heart is gold

(and my hands are cold) 

"What do you mean you won't tell me where he is?!" 

Jungkook was seething mad. 

Standing across a desk from an exhausted Jung Hoseok, he was heaving, eyes wild with barely restrained fury as he'd stormed into the other's office first thing the morning he was supposed to see Namjoon. 

And they'd told him he couldn't. 

Him. 

His omega sat up to take notice of the stern denial, trying to refute it somehow. At first, he thought they were mistaken. Jungkook saw Namjoon every week at the same time and the same place - like clockwork. And Namjoon had promised. He didn't know what had compelled him to place all his hopes on the words of a man who was incriminated, but he had. He only had himself to blame for his disbelief. 

"It means exactly that, Jungkook. I can't tell you," Hoseok responded with a bite to his tone, clearly reprimanding him but Jungkook scoffed. 

"Can't tell me, or won't? "  

"Jungkook, all information on Kim Namjoon is on a need-to-know basis. And right now, it's been determined that you're not required to know where he's been transferred to." 

"I'm his doctor, " he forced out. 

"That doesn't give you unrestricted access to his whereabouts," Hoseok retorted. "Kim Namjoon isn't solely yours to handle. He's a state asset. You may have been brought in to aid our efforts but ultimately, all decisions regarding the man are beyond your jurisdiction. Heck, they're out of my jurisdiction right now." 

State asset. 

The words sounded so mechanical. So technical and cruelly bland for the man that was Kim Namjoon. All that wit and patience and silent courage being reduced to an asset. 

Jungkook lowered his head, frantically trying to come up with an explanation - any explanation that'd tell him why things had turned out this way. 

"At least tell me why it's so sudden," he pleaded and Hoseok looked exasperated but his eyes still softened. 

"I'm sorry Jungkook," he said and his voice truly held a note of apology. "I truly can't. "

He heard the finality in his voice and knew that arguing further was a lost cause. Turning around rebelliously, he walked out of the room, uncaring of how loudly the door slammed on his way out.

Let it, he thought bitterly. Something needed to be loud when he couldn't. 

His omega refused to be silent - his heart a galloping mess, urging him to turn back and demand answers even as he grit his teeth and stormed past innocent coworkers who gave him a wide berth as he parted the crowd. Not for the first time, he considered the thought of going on stronger suppressants just so he could shut it up. He was already in a crux. He didn't need his omega being an emotional crutch on top of it all. 

He could try to snoop around, he figured. He had a reputation here, didn't he? It wasn't something he liked to use to his advantage but by now, he'd understood how the status quo worked. Surely someone in this godforsaken place wouldn't be averse to getting in his good graces if they thought it'd benefit them, would they? And maybe if he was lucky enough, he could glean some information out of them. It was a long shot, but he had to start somewhere. Decisively, Jungkook turned around the corner, walking back to get his coat and leave when he was intercepted by the last person he wanted to see. 

Professor Kang. 

Wonderful, he thought bitterly. Just as he was debating whether to turn on his feet and pretend he hadn't seen him, he heard the other man call out his name.

Fuck.

Jungkook gave him a gracious smile. He shouldn't have bothered, really. He was pretty sure the man knew he hated him but there were other people standing close to them and he didn't want to come off as rude. 

"Professor," he greeted and watched as he dismissed the others standing near them with a few parting words and walked over to him. 

"Jungkook." 

It was two syllables but Jungkook could hear all the unheard questions in his voice. 

Have you thought about what I told you? 

Have you reached a decision? 

You know I can make things worse for you, don't you? 

And Jungkook had questions of his own. 

What do you know? 

How much are you not telling me? 

Who told you about Namjoon and me? 

"It's a beautiful day outside," he remarked casually, coming to stand by Jungkook as they both gazed out the floor length window. 

It was. Bright and warm, but just enough to feel comfortable - none of that sweltering hot humidity that made you groan out loud. It was the type of weather that lifted your spirits right up. 

Well, on most days. 

The man next to him was dressed in a thick sweater in spite of the heat and Jungkook raised a curious eyebrow. It wasn't the first time he'd appeared so frail. 

"Are you not feeling well, sir?" 

It was a formality more than anything but Jungkook wanted to keep the small talk flowing for as long as he could. Perhaps to delay the inevitable. 

"No more than usual, of course," he said gruffly. "All this stress at my age…" he trailed off with an expectant gaze towards Jungkook, "but I suspect I'll have good things to look forward to, won't I?" 

It was clear what he was alluding to and Jungkook couldn't help but tense up. He recalled the subtleties aimed at him with a repressed shudder and avoided looking at him directly. 

"Judging from your expression, you don't exactly seem to have given my words much thought."

Jungkook didn't reply, his silence louder than anything he could possibly say. A gentle chuckle, deceptively simple, echoed beside him and a firm hand placed on his shoulder. 

"I hope you rethink your stance, Jungkook-ssi. Seoul has a lot more beautiful days. I sincerely hope you'll be around to see them."

It was a threat. 

A carefully veiled sentence which was delivered to him so delicately that it may as well have been a word of caution if misinterpreted but Jungkook tensed even further. His shoulder was tapped twice good naturedly, before he was let go, his professor striding off into the courtyard, the sun shining blindly into his silver stands. 

It left him with a lot to think about. 

As long as he had Professor Kang on his back, he'd forever be in fear of what would happen. What the other man could say. Dropping the case was out of the option and fortunately, Namjoon had the same thoughts on the matter as he did. But the week was coming to a close and he was no closer to coming up with a solution. Instead, he'd been dealt with the matter of Namjoon's absence as well. It was like he was being deprived of the one thing he kept latching onto. His harbor in the sea. His lighthouse in the storm. His lantern in the dark. 

His constant. 

The walk back was a dreadful one, filled with negativity and a sort of deafening silence - the kind that hits you when you've run out of ideas, of plans, of what to do next. How had things turned out this way? To him, this was supposed to be a job. An important part of his career. A milestone. But it'd grown and warped itself around himself to become far more than that, hadn't it? To his omega, Namjoon had become permanent. He may have to switch hotels every few weeks and call strangers his friends but amidst all of it, Namjoon was an eternal constant. It was time that Jungkook admitted it. At least to himself. 

He made it to the main crossroads before he realized that he'd run out of a change of clothes for the next week. He cursed under his breath, knowing that he'd probably have to go back home for this one. He'd resigned himself to the fact that he'd have to keep switching between motels until he was done with Namjoon but it was still taking him a while to get used to the change. Hailing a cab, it took him a few minutes before he found himself in front of his old apartment. 

It'd been a while since he'd last been here - a couple days at least. He didn't know what had happened in his absence and he realized he was dreading to find out. Turns out, nothing could have prepared him for the sight which met his eyes. 

There were women milling about the stairs, some with their hair untied and out in the hallways in their worn pajamas and barefoot. Some sidled against the railing, little children clinging to their feet as they spoke to the neighbors with their heads peeking out of the door frames and Jungkook grew perplexed. Part of the reason he'd chosen to rent out the apartment was because he'd been assured it housed a relatively busy community. One which didn't have the time to poke and prod into someone else's business. It wasn't one of those homely neighborhoods where he'd have to mingle and be drawn out into monthly karaoke nights. No, he rarely saw anyone at all here and he preferred it that way: a quiet place where nobody knew he existed. 

The same couldn't be said as of that moment. 

As soon as he was in people's sights, all eyes were drawn his way and their eyes twinkled as he walked past time, some of them giving him warm smiles as they whispered to each other. 

Just as he was getting freaked out to the level of confronting them about what the hell was going on, he heard a little girl tell her mother something in that obnoxiously loud voice children tended to use, uncaring of who heard them. 

"Is that him, eomma?" 

She was shushed frantically and the woman who Jungkook presumed was her mother gave him a flustered smile. 

"We didn't mean to gossip," she started apologetically, "but your gifts attracted a lot of attention! The children have never seen something like it."

And alarm bells started going off on his head. 

"What gifts?"

"Oh!" She looked appropriately shocked then settled herself. "You probably don't know since you've been away all this while but don't worry!" She gushed. "We asked the landlord to move them into your room. We hope you don't mind!" 

And Jungkook entered a stage which crossed mild anxiety and transcended to full blown panic. Gifts? Plural? What if it was something dangerous? What if someone got hurt because of him? 

He rushed up the stairs, taking two at a time, heart pounding as he reached his level. Like she'd said, the landlord had probably been here, there was nothing in the hall, no remnants of whatever he'd been 'gifted'. He wrenched out the key in his pocket, jamming it in and twisting the door open, palms sweaty and heart pounding as he expected the worst came to the sight of - 

flowers. 

They almost covered the entire living room with how many were stuffed there. Bouquets upon bouquets of flowers: some wrapped up in intricate patterns while some remained loose from the rest, petals falling softly to the floor. They almost obscured everything else in the room, prominent as they were. But that wasn't what made him freeze in place. 

They were roses.

Each and every single one of them. Roses of all colors: pristine whites and incandescent oranges and blush pinks and of course ruby reds - they mocked him as he stood there speechless, his heart turning to stone, refusing to accept the implications of what he was seeing. 

Because it was one thing to know his schedule. One thing to stalk him and know where he lived, what he did. To have pictures of him. To threaten him to leave. 

But this was his scent. 

The scent that nobody knew. A scent he religiously hid under suppressants. Secret. Uncovered.

Sacred.

Jungkook felt his knees give out under him, sinking to the floor in abject horror. To think that someone knew him so intimately …it was terrifying. How did they come to know? If the question was horrendous enough on its own, the possible answers - he didn't dare to presume. He imagined the perpetrator's face as he sent him these. He probably didn't even bother with the idea of a note - a threat. It wasn't like the past where the words chilled him to the bone. This message didn't require any. 

The roses were enough. The scent was enough. Every dew drop on every petal was enough. Each unplucked thorn was enough. 

Enough to push Jungkook past the breaking point: the point where he huddled up like the delicate, fragile omega he wanted to be in that instant and sobbed bitterly, clutching crushed petals in his fists as the weight of the world came crashing down on him.

And like the providential cherry on the top, that's how his best friend found him. 

A pathetic wreck on the ground as pitiful sobs wracked past his quivering lips, surrounded by legions of roses, fear and helplessness raging through him like a storm which ripped through a peaceful savannah. A wilted flower among blooming fields.

"Jungkook?" 

… 

Jungkook was currently following Tae into his home in Seoul, which had clearly been refurbished for him in preparation for his arrival, dragging a hastily put together suitcase behind him, not saying a word since their less than ideal meeting. 

One look at him and Tae had lost it. 

It was clear that his best friend had meant for his visit to be a pleasant surprise, coming over to Jungkook's place directly from the airport considering the haggard expression on his face but he definitely hadn't expected to see him in such a state. 

He'd dropped whatever he'd been holding and skid over to the floor right next to him, taking Jungkook in his arms, begging him over and over to tell him what was wrong but Jungkook was too shaken, too scared to say anything, his mind running through the possibility of someone knowing his darkest secret - something that not even Tae knew. So how could he tell him what the roses meant? What they implied?

In all the weeks he'd imagined meeting Tae, this was never how it went. 

He imagined surprising his best friend at the airport, jumping into his arms as Tae spun him in his arms, warm surprise shining in his eyes. 

He imagined them both breaking into a run midway on a crowded street in Seoul, almost falling to the ground with the force of their embrace as passerbys wrinkled their noses at them.

He imagined Tae surprising him in front of his workplace and both of them almost causing a scene, dissolving into giggles like they both used to. 

In all his wishful dreams, he was happy. Tae was happy. 

He should have known by now that his dreams never came true. 

Jungkook looked around the place Tae had brought him too, taking it all in with red-rimmed eyes. It was thrice the size of his apartment, he could decipher that from a single glance. A huge LED screen dominated the living room, cushy lounges placed  around haphazardly with abstract paintings hung above them. It gave off a very modernist vibe. Very minimalist yet unconcerned with adhering to any of the current stylist architectural trends. The kitchen wasn't formally separated from the living room, curving itself into a little nook in the corner instead. He could barely make out the edges or stainless steel counters and granite countertops but suddenly, Tae's rough exhale brought him back. 

"Throw your stuff anywhere," he said dismissively, as he himself discarded his luggage at the front door. "I'll take care of it in the morning." 

He sounded frustrated and Jungkook didn't really blame him. If the situation were reversed, he'd be mad about Tae not telling him anything either. 

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said, voice hoarse from all the crying. 

"You've already done that," Tae shot back at him, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Fuck, Jungkook ! You were alone. Crying. On your knees. What am I supposed to think? What in the world happened?" 

He was angry at him. Jungkook could count on one hand the number of times Tae had gotten angry at him. The whole day was going horrible and this was probably the worst of it. The reunion he'd imagined was replaced with distance and frustration and misunderstandings. 

And Jungkook was sick of it. Sick of having to shoulder all of it on his own. Sick of nobody to confide in. Sick of convincing everyone, including himself, that he was fine. 

So he told Tae. Everything. 

Well, maybe a distorted version of things but enough for him to get a gist of things without actually letting him in on the intricacies. 

And Tae just leaned back and listened, his expression not changing at all as Jungkook told him about the.. eccentric (it was the kindest word he could use to describe Namjoon without alarming Tae) patient he had and the hospital politics and at last, the threats. He didn't mention a single word about his reaction to Namjoon. The way he was growing borderline obsessed with him. The way his omega sang when they were in close proximity. 

When he finished, Tae just looked at him incredulously and said only one sentence. 

"You were being threatened?" 

Jungkook nodded hesitantly, curling into himself as he sipped at the hot chocolate, lips bumping into the tiny multicolored marshmallows Tae always put in for him. 

" And you didn't tell me ?!" 

His voice was almost a screech and Jungkook wished he could sink into the couch cushions and disappear. 

"You weren't in Seoul," he defended weakly. "There was nothing you could do." 

"Nothing I could - Jungkook ."

It was a reproach and Jungkook didn't know why he was the one feeling so guilty about it. He'd done nothing wrong here, had he? 

Well, except try to bear all the world's burdens on his own and possibly send himself into an early grave . 

" Oh Jungkookie , come 'ere." 

And Jungkook practically crawled into Tae's side like a scurrying little bunny, hugging onto him like he'd wished he could all these nights. 

"You should've told me," Tae murmured. "I have friends in Seoul, they would've looked out for you."

"Didn't wanna be a crybaby," he whispered but he could feel Tae's lips curve against his forehead as he smiled at his weak defense.

They both knew Jungkook cried at the drop of a hat anyway. 

Tae ran his fingers through his hair and it was the most at peace he'd found himself in months, taking him back to lonely Christmases where it was just the two of them in front of the clanky room heater in the dorms, play-fighting over the same scratchy woolen quilt. When all they had to worry about was passing the next text or acing a pop quiz or who'd cook ramen that night. 

"I'll get out of your hair soon enough," Jungkook said suddenly. "I have to find another hotel to stay at anyway." 

And he yelped when he felt a sharp tap on the back of his head. 

"Don't even think of it," Tae growled. "You're staying here. End of fucking discussion." 

Jungkook gaped at him. "I can't just…I can't just move in, Tae!" 

"Why not?" 

"Because…because.." 

He didn't want to be a burden . It was one thing for Tae to offer him a temporary place to stay for a few days but it was completely different for him to move in. He gave the room another cursory glance and cringed slightly at the exuberance. 

"You're already in a precarious situation," he chastised Jungkook, "and I can't believe you won't let me go to the police -" Tae had really freaked out at that one "- but if you think I'm letting you live alone after all of this, you've got to be crazy. The place is big enough and think about it," he gave Jungkook a cute smile." It'll be just like we're roommates again." 

It was a tempting offer. Jungkook wouldn't have to sleep with one eye open at night and the security here was probably much better. And he'd have Tae. That was the biggest draw. And it made no sense to be uselessly stubborn about it - not when Tae was just trying to look out for him. Like he'd always done. 

"Okay," he nodded. "Until all this tides over." 

Tae flashed him a blinding smile and leaped off the couch, shrugging off his overcoat, clapping his hands with an evil glint in his eye. 

"Great, I expect breakfast by eight in the morning and dinner by seven and all the laundry done at least twice a week. I won't force you to do the vacuuming but -" 

He broke off into giggles when Jungkook threw a magazine at him. 

"You just want a stay at home cinderella!" He accused, infusing hurt into his voice even though his lips were starting to curve upwards on their own at the exaggerated demands Tae was placing on him even though they both knew that he probably wouldn't let Jungkook even lift a finger. 

"Don't be ridiculous!" Tae said, still trying to maintain a facade of seriousness. "I can hire one of those myself if I want."

And Jungkook was used to Tae expressing how wealthy he was on a regular basis. He'd gotten to know that his best friend lacked very few things early on in their college days. He was a little gobsmacked with how easily he threw money around at the start and only got accustomed to his careless spending with time. 

'It's not like I'm going to go broke , " Tae would say innocently, looking the very epitome of a spoiled rich brat in his sunglasses and silk shirt as he pulled into college in a sleek convertible. 

He'd mellowed out a little the longer he lived with Jungkook, being a little more judicious with his spending but Jungkook still believed that was to appease him. 

"Did you buy this house as well?"

He was being conversational but Tae turned his face away slightly at Jungkook's question. 

"It's my brother's place," he answered, almost reluctantly. "He's letting me stay here for a while." 

Jungkook regarded him silently. For all he called the man his closest friend, he was also the most private person he knew. The number of times he'd mentioned his brothers were few and far in between, mumbling into the distance and changing things up when the conversation veered too close to them. So at the start, Jungkook silently thought he didn't have that much of a good relationship with them. Cordial at best at how he avoided bringing them up. It wouldn't be that uncommon, Jungkook thought. Lots of rich families were like that. 

But the few times he did speak about them , nobody could mistake the absolute devotion in his voice. The reverence which he held didn't belong to someone who was casually dismissive of his brothers. From the few snippets he'd managed to piece together, Jungkook had gathered he had two elder brothers. They were all part of the family business and proudly so, a role which Taehyung was expected to take up as soon as he graduated.

'Is it not something you want to do?'  

Jungkook had asked him the question once, genuinely curious when Tae kept complaining about what was expected of him. He wasn't exactly what someone would call a diligent student, skipping classes more often than not and delaying his assignments till the very last minute. Jungkook loved him but he suspected that he wasn't very happy with it. 

However, Tae had proved him wrong there too. 

'It's been my dream to work with my brothers,' he'd said almost dreamily. 'Ever since I was a child, it's all I've wanted to do. It's just that all this -' he gestured towards the blank sheets in front of him for the essays he was supposed to write '- won't help me at all. My brothers have very..practical work. Trust me, essays and grade scores won't matter at all when I go work for them.' 

It was a weird way to put things. He knew that experience counted the most for most students but was there really any job out there where college grades didn't matter? 

It was just one of the things which made Tae so strange. 

He could be almost frighteningly open about trivial things: he over shared to the point of excess sometimes. About how he loved Nutella spread more than strawberry jam or how mint chocolate signified the end of the world; how cashmere was much more comfortable than silk but he preferred the latter because class; how he started every little rumor in the college and gave a perfectly practiced wide-eyed stare when they got back to him. 

But just as carefree as he was about himself, he guarded some things like secrets which he didn't even dare to speak of. 

When you shared a dorm with someone for three years, you expected to have a treasure trove full of stories to look back on but with  Tae, anything he'd learned about him had been a slip of the tongue when he was drunk or a casually thrown in  tidbit when they were talking about something else. And Jungkook didn't push, he truly didn't. He had enough secrets of his own. Things he was hiding from the person he lived with. He didn't have any right to demand things from Tae. 

But the few things he'd learned…they just made him curious. 

Inevitably so. 

:What does your family even do for you to own this kind of money?' Jungkook had blurted out one day, unable to control himself as he stared at the incredibly expensive gift boxes in his lap. A welcome gift, courtesy of Tae. 

He'd laughed it off nervously, waving a hand casually. 

'I told you, he sat down beside Jungkook. It's a family business. We've had it since ages. Pharma reps and the works. It's not that niche.'

If his family background elicited his curiosity, his own childhood was a veritable brick wall. 

Even Jungkook had trusted him enough to share his tragic past, telling him all about the fire and how he'd lost his family. 

But Tae simply shut down when Jungkook tried to ask him things. 

'My childhood? It was incredibly boring, Jungkookie. I don't know what to tell you. I went to a prissy boarding school with other prissy rich kids and passed out with perfect grades. See, boring?' 

'But what about your friends?' 

'I'm not really in touch with any of them. Most of them moved abroad and you know how things run in our circles, people aren't very friendly unless there's something in it for them.' 

'But all these years and your parents never visited you? You stay back for vacations as well.' 

And at that, Tae fell silent and Jungkook felt like he'd crossed some sort of limit. 

'My mom passed away a long time ago,' he said slowly and Jungkook paled, 'and as for my father -' he gave Jungkook a hard stare. 'I wish he'd passed as well.' 

It was the most Jungkook knew about him. He never mentioned relatives or families the way others did, randomly bringing it up in the middle of an innocent conversation. 

Like: you remind me of that one crazy cousin I have!

Or, oh - my aunt gifted me that for new year's last year! 

While Tae wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to the things he loved, he was obscurity and veiled truths personified. 

And if his past was a relative mystery to Jungkook, his present was an even bigger one. 

His proclivities were…strange to say the least. 

As Jungkook had grown older, he'd let go of the urge to pursue activities that were antithetical to omegas. Hobbies that'd make him seem more masculine. Hobbies that made him miserable. It was a petty urge, he grew to realize - one framed by his fucked up understanding of gender politics and maintaining appearances. 

It'd taken a few days with Tae to correct his assumptions. 

He was one of the most stereotypical alphas Jungkook knew: self-assured and confident to the point of being casually arrogant, tall and bold, a man's man. 

-who just happened to enjoy the simplest of life's pleasures.

He made flower crowns for Jungkook's birthday. 

He doodled pretty little birds on their dorm walls in the second year they lived together. 

He picked out little baubles for himself when they went shopping for other things. 

But his biggest hobby was probably miniature carving. The first time Jungkook walked into their room full of wooden shavings, he'd been shocked. A few months later, it became quite a normal thing to see Tae hovering over intricate little figurines, tongue stuck out in concentration as he worked his way in. They were delicate little creations, ones Jungkook envied artistically and that was probably why he burst out one day. 

'Don't you ever worry?' Jungkook said, unable to see how he stood it. 

'About what?' Tae genuinely sounded confused. 

'Yourself! And all your…interests.'

Jungkook tried not to sound judgemental but he still felt ashamed when his tone came out accusatory so he still continued. Better see it to the end anyway. 

'You worry they don't warrant my status,' Tae deadpanned and Jungkook had turned away in embarrassment. 'You worry they're too subdued.' 

It wasn't a particularly uncommon assumption to make. Alphas tended to have rather exuberant passions ranging from martial arts to high contact sports to academia associated with a high level of complexity. It may be a little stereotypical but it was all that Jungkook knew. 

'It doesn't matter to me,' he'd said to Jungkook, unaffected. 'I'm still an alpha. At the end of the day, I can be just as horrible as the rest of them.' 

It was said with such ease, such apathy - that it made Jungkook shiver. 

It was also the kind of attitude that taught him to stop caring about how he was perceived. He had his scent blockers. He had his suppressants. And besides, being an omega was incredibly rare. The chances of him being outed because he chose to paint pretty pictures was just him overthinking. 

And this wasn't even scratching the surface with Tae. 

Something that'd always nagged at him was the way Tae was one of the most sought after alphas yet chose to remain aloof. Golden brown ringlets that curled around his ear, dazzling chocolate eyes which sparkled in the sunlight, a physique to rival Adonis and tiny little secret marks that made him Tae: the hint of a mole beneath his eye, the jut of his collarbones which cut sharp under the light, the edges of a tattoo on his chest that Jungkook had only seen once - yet its intricacy had been such that he'd never forgotten. Men and women all around him cooed and awed in his wake yet he ignored them like gnats. 

It didn't escape Jungkook that he was one of the only people Tae bothered with. It made him feel a little special at the start, guiltily so but as he got to know him, the less it made sense. Tae was attractive and wealthy - the perfect combination of attractive yet blasé. Still, he treated the rest of the general population with lazy contempt, uncaring of what they thought of him. He didn't date. He didn't hook up. He didn't associate with anyone in the slightest. 

Jungkook was embarrassed to say, it was one of the reasons he assumed Tae had special feelings for him, a fact which he, thankfully, denied. 

The only time when he'd seen a glimpse of Tae's true self was one drunken night. 

The memory was hazy for them both but Jungkook would never forget what he'd slurred out in that state. 

It was past midnight and he'd been in the midst of burning the midnight oil for a seminar he had the next morning and his ringtone for Tae started blaring through their apartment, startling him slightly before he picked up the call to hear Tae's voice through the speakers - jumbled and twisted. It took a good amount of time (and patience) before Jungkook found out where he was and drove over to help him home. 

He was wasted when Jungkook got there. Fingers twisted around a telephone pole as he had his head leaned against it, dark beanie hanging low over his curls.

The sight pulled at Jungkook's heartstrings and he quickly crossed across the street to put an arm around him when Tae suddenly looked up at him, eyes watery and more vulnerable than he'd ever seen them. 

'Tae?' 

He whispered the words hesitantly but Tae looked up his way like he'd screamed them out loud, taking hold of Jungkook's arm for support, not saying a word. 

'It's late,' Jungkook tried to convince him to walk with him, his behavior scaring him. 

But Tae didn't move. He stayed still, jaw locked as he looked at Jungkook strangely. 

'Tae .' 

Everything,' he slurred out slowly, looking at Jungkook desperately. 'Why does everything remind me of you?' 

The words were spoken low, anger and frustration lacing them but the longing behind them couldn't be denied. 

Jungkook wanted to ask who he was talking to. Who was he talking about?

Of course, he couldn't, because that was the moment Tae chose to puke all over Jungkook's brand new shoes and Jungkook shoved him off, both of them tumbling to the ground roughly. 

Ugh, the things he did in the name of friendship. 

They never spoke of it again but Jungkook would never forget. Never forget that voice. 

Never forget those words. 

… 

Jungkook realized that in the midst of everything going on in his life, he'd missed his last therapy session with Yoongi. 

And Yoongi was not pleased. 

"Only the third week," he said, voice heavy with disapproval, "and already missing out on our sessions." 

"I'm sorry!" Jungkook pleaded. "I really really forgot! It completely slipped my mind and by the time I remembered, it was already close to the next date so I didn't reschedule." 

"Jungkook," Yoongi sighed, pushing up his glasses. "Therapy is a two way street. I can only help you if you want to be helped, you know."

It took ten more minutes of heartfelt promises not to miss another session after which Yoongi was finally convinced of his determination to stick with it. 

"We spoke about your omega last time," he reminded Jungkook. "Have you thought about what I said?" 

The words yanked him back to the reminder that somebody already knew - that the secret which he'd wanted to reveal on his own terms had been outed by someone else. He gulped, ruthlessly pushing down the tears threatening to rush out. 

" I know it can be scary," Yoongi said delicately, clearly believing his anxiety to be a fear of the unknown, "but you're a wonderful person Jungkook. Anyone would be glad to have you with them." 

Jungkook gave a watery smile. "You're only saying that because you're my therapist." 

Yoongi laughed out loud at his blunt words. "Believe me, I don't play good cop. I truly do believe you can get adopted into a supportive pack structure. It'd do wonders for your well-being." 

"I'll think about it," he promised, though he didn't know how he'd slot in the thought among the rest of the questions floating through his head. Questions which demanded far more immediate answers. 

"Good, that's all I'm asking. Is there anything you'd like to share with me? Changes in your life?" 

Yoongi had this one particular part in each of his sessions where he tried to gain an insight into Jungkook's life. He truly believed it'd benefit both of them and it'd be a positive exercise for Jungkook as well - sharing little excerpts of his life with someone. It felt a little weird at first - telling a stranger about a cute kitten he'd seen or the random movie he'd watched the previous week - but Yoongi never judged. 

Happiness is happiness, he'd say. Doesn't matter how small or big it is. 

"Actually, I moved in with my best friend," he informed Yoongi, who gave him a pleased smile. "He moved back to the city a few days ago and I've been living with him since." 

Because I've been receiving terrifying threats to leave about things I don't even know and said best friend automatically switched to overprotective guardian mode. 

He didn't quite say all of that, though. He didn't want to stay in therapy longer than he was required to. 

"Your college roommate?" 

"Yeah, that's him." 

"The alpha?" 

And Jungkook could see where this was going. 

"It's not like that," he said, blushing furiously. 

"Forgive me," Yoongi said. "I didn't mean to presume. It's a good thing actually. To have companionship." 

Jungkook nodded in agreement and looked at the clock discreetly. Fifteen more minutes to go. He suddenly looked at Yoongi and blurted out something which he'd been thinking about a lot. 

"Can I ask you something? It's a little off-topic though. "

"Go ahead," Yoongi encouraged.

"Have you ever been affected by a patient? You know, like more than you should?" 

Yoongi gave him a curious look. 

"Maintaining a healthy distance is part of my work ethic. Part of our work ethic and what exactly do you mean by affected?" 

"It's just..some people can be a little intense - emotionally, I mean," he rushed to say. "I was just wondering..I was just..you know what - never mind," 

Jungkook should have never brought this up. Ugh . 

But Yoongi didn't seem like he was going to let it go. 

"What you're describing sounds a lot like countertransference. And that's a dangerous territory to be veering into Jungkook." 

"I know what countertransference is," he rushed to say. The last thing he wanted Yoongi to think was him being professionally incompetent. "This isn't that - it isn't projection. It's just -" 

How did he describe the way he felt when Namjoon stared at him? The way his body got all hot when that gaze rooted him in place? How his words twisted something in him - deep down. 

"I don't know what sort of people you're dealing with Jungkook," Yoongi said finally, after a long silence stretched between them, "but all I can warn you is to be careful. Reason can only take you so far." 

He assessed him with a meaningful stare before sending him along with the parting words. 

"It's a very thin line between action and emotion."

… 

Jungkook tried not to think about Yoongi's words as he walked out but they were all that echoed through his head. 

Measures and countermeasures. 

Action and reaction. 

Logic and emotion. 

Jungkook and Namjoon. 

Whatever he thought of, it all wound back to the two of them. 

Pushing the thoughts to the back of his head, he tried to focus on his current task. Since he was living with Tae now, he'd asked his landlord to cancel his lease and he was supposed to meet with him today for that very purpose. 

He reached the place soon and realized he was actually twenty minutes early and his gaze dipped towards his old apartment door. It wouldn't take long to peek in, would it? 

Tae would kill him. He'd already told Jungkook that he'd come along for the move but Jungkook willfully turned him away. He wasn't helpless . He was capable of doing things on his own. 

Besides, all he wanted to do was carry a few things home with him. Just a few old sentimental memories. Nothing that he needed to bother Tae with. Besides, after the roses, he was sure nothing could shock him anymore. 

He clicked the lock open with his spare and went in boldly, heading straight for his belongings. Gathering a small duffel bag, he started to throw a small collection of oddities into it: his first easel, a collection of fine brushes, a ratty old textbook and some of his comfort clothes. The movers would get all the other stuff later, Tae had assured him. 

All of a sudden, he heard the barest sound and he froze. 

A moment later, he heard it again. 

Footsteps. 

There was someone else in the house with him. 

His hand automatically reached out for the closest thing we could use to protect himself, which happened to be a hefty third year textbook. 

And do not underestimate its power, it weighed more than the average gym freak's daily workout dumbbells and if the intruder took another step, he'd get a face full of it. Jungkook would make sure of that. 

Jungkook trailed closer to the doorway, the book clutched tightly in both his sweaty palms. He wasn't scared, no. He was furious. How dare someone try to intimidate him this way? In his own home? 

He had to stay hidden and avoid suspicion. The wait was the hardest part. But when it happened, it was over in the blink of an eye. 

The trespasser was a young man his height and if he hadn't been wearing that thick hoodie, Jungkook would have seen his face too but all he could see was pale white skin looking around the house frantically, withered rose petals framing his figure. He clearly wasn't expecting the owner to be back so soon and was clearly unprepared when Jungkook launched himself at him full force, taking him down from behind, both of them falling to the carpeted floor with a loud thud.

The other man was shocked for all of one split second before he started to struggle against Jungkook's strong hold, easily maneuvering himself free enough to wriggle away and he would have managed it too, if Jungkook hadn't caught the hem of his ankles at the very last moment, sending him crashing into the edge of a table on the right. 

He heard a hiss of pain as he straggled to his feet, lugging the other man with him but he swerved, avoiding the swing of the book with his hands. 

"Who are you?!" Jungkook screamed, ignoring the twinge in his hip. "What do you want from me?" 

He didn't receive any answer. Not that he expected to either, with how desperately the man was trying to scurry away. 

Jungkook changed tactics, raising a hand to bring down the hoodie so he could at least see the man's face but be back stepped af the very last moment, causing Jungkook's hands to maul at his chest, tearing the fabric there with a loud rip. 

And Jungkook froze in shock. 

Apparently, that was enough for the man to get the advantage to run away, giving Jungkook a glimpse of his wide black eyes as he escaped. 

But still, Jungkook didn't move. 

Because of the ink on his chest. The barest hints of a tattoo peeking out. The design so beautiful, so intricate. 

So familiar. 

He'd seen that tattoo before. 

And Jungkook's life came to a horrific standstill. 

… 

It could be a coincidence, he repeated to himself, hugging his hands around himself alone in the abandoned apartment as he stared at the spot he'd last seen the man. 

Tons of people had the exact same tattoo. Flowers and hearts and little infinity signs. He'd seen them all. 

But something like this? A veritable masterpiece etched in ink? The chances of two people having the exact same design were… 

It could have been his own fault too, he surmised. In all the chaos, maybe he'd misinterpreted things. But a gut feeling told him that the only person he was trying to fool was himself. 

His first reaction would have been to call Tae. 

But after what he'd seen, the very thing sent chills running up his spine. 

The idea itself was unthinkable. Unimaginable. 

That his Tae had something to do with every horrible thing happening to him. No, he refused to believe that. There had to be another explanation. 

There had to be. 

And in his dazed state, he could have very well spent the whole night just looping those few seconds in his head. 

-if not for the phone call he received right then. 

Jungkook frowned when he looked at the caller id. 

"Hoseok-ssi?" 

"Jungkook, I'm sorry for calling so late but something's come up." 

"What is it?" 

It was well past eight and Jungkook had never been asked to come in so late. 

"I wouldn't have called you normally but things are a little tense right here and since you've already expressed interest, I thought that you wouldn't mind being -" 

"Hoseok-ssi -" Jungkook interrupted his rambling, eager to get to the point, his tone was getting him all worked up as well. 

"It's Namjoon," he said and Jungkook's heart dropped. 

"What about him?" 

"We were wondering if you'd be amenable to a visit." 

"Now?" 

"If it's not too much trouble. If course, you don't have to -" 

"Yes," he blurted out before Hoseok changed his mind, his hands twitching in excitement, heart almost leaping up to his throat. "I'll be there in twenty."

He cut the call before Hoseok could say anything else, everything else in his own life forgotten, his omega a panting mess at the back of his head. 

He was going to see Namjoon again. 

Everything else came after. 

… 

It took him half an hour and he was the picture of a nervous nancy for each of those ten extra minutes. 

Had something happened to Namjoon? 

Had he personally asked to see Jungkook? 

Was everything okay? 

He walked his way to Hoseok's office on pure muscle memory, his mind running through every possible scenario he could imagine - good and bad. Bursting the door open he caught Hoseok's startled stare, launching into a series of questions. 

"Is everything alright? Where do you take him? Did he ask to see me? Is he finally -" 

A delicate cough interrupted his tirade and he turned to see someone else in the room with them.

It was a woman he'd never seen before. She was seated at Hoseok's desk, dressed in a dark blue pantsuit and brushed up with light professional makeup even at this time of the night. She had a stern looking face - the sort you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of but unfortunately for him, that was exactly how it was shaping out to be. 

"Good evening," he greeted politely, giving Hoseok a questioning glance. 

Who was she? 

"Jungkook-ssi," and her voice was crystal clear, confidence rolling off of her in waves. She stood up and he was dismayed to see that she was so tall - way taller than the two of them. "I can't believe it's taken us so long to meet, especially considering everything I've heard about you." 

Once again, he looked at Hoseok in confusion.

"Jungkook," he began to introduce them, "this is Lee Hyeori. She's the director of our unit and I wish you both could've met under calmer circumstances but…" 

He trailed off, pinning Jungkook with a pointed stare and he received the message loud and clear. 

Don't fuck things up. 

But what was someone of her position doing here at this time? 

"Hoseok's told me about your progress with Namjoon. I've been very impressed," she praised him.

"Um..thank you?" 

"And you seem to be very invested in our target too, Jungkook-ssi," she said appreciatively, and then her voice dropped. "A little too invested if I must say so."

Jungkook didn't respond at once. He didn't like the direction where this was headed. 

"Forgive me," he said calmly, trying not to show his apprehension, "but I don't know what you're talking about." 

She smiled at him, all cat-like and smug. "You don't have to worry about being reprimanded, Jungkook-ssi," she told him. "In fact, we anticipated that something like this could happen, given Kim Namjoon's draw." 

"Something like what ?" 

She didn't answer him directly, instead choosing to walk over to the window and gaze out into the skyline. 

"I had a very interesting conversation with Professor Kang recently," she said suddenly and Jungkook swore under his breath. 

He'd promised him a week. That rat bastard. 

"And I heard some very surprising things from him," she continued, looking at him with the same deadly calm expression. "Things I should have been hearing from you. "

Don't give yourself up. 

"Professor Kang has been very resourceful in my struggle with connecting with Namjoon. He's helped me in a lot of ways," he exaggerated. "I'm afraid you'll have to be a little more specific than that."

All the superfluousness she'd been showing till then disappeared and her mouth set in a thin line and when she spoke, it wasn't about Namjoon and his shared background at all - much to his surprise. 

"You implied that Namjoon was healing. Getting significantly better. Do you know how that piece of information has affected us? Do you? "  

Jungkook wracked his head to remember when he'd implied anything of the sort and he paled when he recalled. 

"It's a big case," Professor Kang said, misunderstanding the reason for his hesitation. "I know how important this would be to your career but please put your safety first. Take a week. Think about it. Kai would do an equally good job."

"I'm sure he would," Jungkook sneered, "considering he won't have much to do."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" 

"It means that I don't think Kim Namjoon's going to stay there much longer. He has little reason to."

The other man's eyes widened in shock. 

"But he's feral…" 

"He won't be. Not for much longer," Jungkook said strongly. "Then it doesn't make a difference who interrogates him, does it? 

"Our time frame for any potential interrogation has been cut short significantly. It's why we had to take some rather… drastic measures recently and all because the person we'd assigned the job to seems to have become rather besotted with him."

"I'm not besotted with him," Jungkook refuted, palms clenching into fists even as his blood turned to ice. "He's my patient and I was trying to assess him to the best of my ability." 

What did they mean by 'drastic measures'? 

"Yet you continue to withhold information," he was accused ruthlessly. "Tell me, Jungkook-ssi, what else have you kept from us?" 

If he was regarded with any more suspicion, things wouldn't turn out well. And not just for him. However, his ability to think on his feet had never failed him yet. 

"I haven't been keeping anything from you," he responded calmly. "Other than Kim Namjoon's personal statements, I've had no other evidence to determine any changes in his current state. And you, as well as anyone, must know how much truth his words hold. 

It was a white lie, hopefully, they wouldn't send over another professional to cross-check. He continued on slowly, hoping his confidence would make up for the fidgeting. 

"It was a topic which popped up rather conversationally and professor Kang has always been a little overeager to pass judgment on vague statements, I'm sure you know. Once I'd established any findings of the sort, I assure you, a report would have been made."

He held his breath and waited for her reaction, hoping against hope, that he'd managed to convince her. 

She didn't relax entirely and it was clear she wasn't buying it entirely but decided to go on regardless. 

"I want you to make a visit. Unprompted. Catch him unaware," she ordered. 

"Right now?" 

She nodded tersely. 

"As much as I'm against you going, Hoseok here has repeatedly made it clear to me that he remains responsive to you and only you."

Jungkook nodded, trying not to sound too eager. 

"But this won't be a routine assessment," she warned. "You'll have a message to carry. Tell him that his time is limited," and Jungkook started to worry. "Tell him that he better start cooperating. Or else. "

Her tone foretold nothing good and Jungkook itched to rush out of the room and see Namjoon for himself, his omega pressuring him beyond belief. 

"I'll make sure to pass it on," he said, hoping he didn't sound hurried. 

He received a curt nod and she left the room in a flash after which Jungkook turned on Hoseok who immediately started to defend himself. 

"I was going to warn you about her if you hadn't cut the call and - "

"It doesn't matter," Jungkook said urgently. "Take me to see him." 

… 

The car windows weren't obscured this time around and Jungkook could see that they were heading in a different direction. It was taking longer too and every extra minute Jungkook had to wait, the more restless he got. 

When they finally arrived, it didn't ease the apprehension curling in the pit of his stomach one bit.

It was a hospital. A makeshift one, by the looks of it, hastily erected and shifty as hell. And Jungkook was scared to even think of what this meant. The only time prisioners were let out were when they required medical attention. 

Namjoon was hurt. 

He was guided for part of the way, halls empty save for a few nurses who may as well have been shadows with how shady it all seemed. His body tensed with each step he took, questions buzzing through his mind. 

Where were the rest of the people who were supposed to be here? 

What was so important that he had  to be moved so suddenly? 

Where were the guards?

They reached the corner of the third hallway and Jungkook paused when his escort dropped back. 

"I can go alone?" 

He wanted to, but never thought he'd be allowed to, especially since they'd be in such close proximity now. 

"Trust me," one of the guards snickered. "He's as harmless as a kitten now."

Jungkook frowned but walked on relentlessly. 

It was only when he got closer did he smell it. 

Blood. 

He almost broke into a run, heart pounding, all sorts of vivid images rushing through his head and - oh. 

Oh god. 

"Jungkook."

The words were just as soft as ever. Just as sweet. A gentle caress over his cheek even with the distance between them. Just the distance. No glass between them this time. 

And it didn't take him long to understand why. 

"Oh my god," he murmured, unable to move, hands starting to tremble. 

"Oh my god." 

"It's just a little cut, little rose. It barely stings."

It wasn't a little anything .

Namjoon's voice was stable, low. Meant to soothe. 

But Jungkook couldn't be calmed. 

'Our time frame for any potential interrogation has been cut short significantly. It's why we had to take rather…drastic measures recently.' 

And she hadn't been exaggerating. Namjoon's skin was a scarred mess. A veritable checkerboard of cuts and scars and mottled skin while bruises of green and red and purple painted his skin like a ruined palette. 

"This is my fault," he said in horror. "Oh god this is all my fault. "

If he'd managed to keep his temper and not let it slip, this wouldn't have happened. They wouldn't have tried to force the information from him. Namjoon wouldn't have been hurt. 

No, he had hurt Namjoon. He may have not welded the blade but he'd been its bearer. 

Passivity wasn't an option here. Not anymore. 

"It's not," Namjoon said sternly. "Jungkook, this isn't your fault."

But all he could think of was pain and suffering and sheer sheer agony - the thought of darkness and torture and brutality being inflicted over and over and over again onto the man in front of him. 

"This is…how could they…you're innocent!" He blurted. "They don't have any evidence…" 

But he trailed off into silence. 

"Why can't you just tell them what they want to hear?" He asked desperately. "Why can't you just give them what they want?!" 

If Jungkook would have been in his place, he would never have withstood such torture . No secret was worth such pain. No emotion was worth this sort of cruelty. 

But Namjoon just shook his head sadly. 

"I've always been told pride would be my downfall one day," he said ruefully. "Perhaps I'm only now realizing that it's not my pride exactly that'd hurt me but the hubris that it births when someone else's contends with mine."

Namjoon had told him that the world didn't think in black and white. That innocence and guilt were mere verdicts - verdicts that could be manipulated to become so under hidden truths and crafted lies.

"Come closer, little rose," Namjoon beckoned and Jungkook almost obeyed without thinking. 

In any other circumstance, his omega would have been overjoyed to finally touch Namjoon. To breathe in his scent without something between them. 

To touch. 

To sense. 

To absorb. 

But he didn't deserve that privilege. 

"No."

Namjoon had suffered. 

He's suffered because of him. 

And now, Jungkook would choose to as well. 

Namjoon quirked an eyebrow. 

"No ? "

"No," Jungkook repeated again, this time, walking closer, step by aching step until he was a hair's breadth away. 

They'd both stopped breathing. 

"When I touch you for the first time, it'll be as a free man," he declared, even as his omega whined pitifully. 

"When I touch you for the first time, it won't be like this," he promised to himself. 

Covered in blood and dust and grime. 

"You said when," Namjoon muttered, his lids fluttering with the proximity. But he didn't try to grab onto Jungkook. The air between them vibrated with chemical lust but he didn't make a single move. "Not if - you said when."

Jungkook nodded slowly, making sure Namjoon saw the seriousness in his face. Namjoon's thoughts may alternate between shades of gray, but all Jungkook could see now was in shades of red. 

Burning red. 

He'd always hoped Namjoon was innocent. 

Someone who wouldn't break even under this kind of torture, illegal as it may be, only hardened his resolve. 

Namjoon may really be a terrible person, he admitted to himself. The stuff of nightmares who seemed to be everyone's target. He might be a monster. 

But Jungkook couldn't see him like this. 

If he was aiding a criminal, he'd pay the consequences, he decided. But he couldn't sit by and play according to someone else's rules. 

Not when it came to his Namjoon. 

"When," he repeated decisively, staring into Namjoon's fading red eyes with his own deep browns. 

"When." 

When? 

… 

The next day, he woke a new man. 

It was like a huge weight had been lifted off his chest now that his conscience was clear about what he was going to do, consequences be damned. 

Logic dictated it too. 

No man who had something to hide would remain silent under such savagery. It was human nature to break under such atrocity. 

The fact that Namjoon hadn't done so only strengthened his resolve that he was innocent. 

And he'd make sure that the world knew. 

He walked into work early the next morning, lost in his thoughts on the way to Hoseok's office. He planned to tell him that as much as he'd emphasized the consequences, Namjoon refused to give in. It'd be a solid start, give him more chances to meet him. And in the meantime, he could find more ways to prove Namjoon's innocence. 

He paused when he entered the lobby, however, taken aback at the mass of people there. Tons of people, some even from even other units, all gathered in one place.

And was that someone crying? 

He walked in cautiously and thankfully, whatever it was, it was serious enough that nobody paid him heed as he parted through the crowd, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw someone he knew. 

"Sehun-ssi!" He called out and the other man turned his head to look at him soberly. 

"What's going on?" Jungkook asked. "Is there some sort of group thing happening because let me tell you, if I have to sit through one more hour-long speech again -" 

"It's Professor Kang," Sehun interrupted him, his voice hoarse and serious. 

"He's dead." 

… 

Chapter Text

one love, two mouths

The funeral was a somber affair. 

Arranged hastily after the news broke, everyone important enough to be there were somehow gathered in the span of a few hours. Apparently, the late professor had been a beloved figure to many at this place. 

Jungkook took a seat at the back of the room, glad to see that nobody was paying him any attention, leaving him free to observe the rest. 

Sehun was clearly shocked, but he was handling himself well. At the moment, he was off at the side, hands clutched tight in an older woman's as he consoled her shaking figure. Jungkook could hear him speaking to her in a low voice, soft words to assuage her bereavement. 

Empty words . 

Acute grief was an inconsolable thing. No number of carefully thought out words could temper grief. 

He knew that better than anyone else. 

He saw a figure dart across the room, all stiff-limbed and wide-eyed and Jungkook felt a vine of pity grow within himself for Kai although his grief was for all the wrong reasons. Every case he'd shadowed, every contact he'd managed to make - it was all worthless now that his mentor was gone. He'd built his career by clinging to the coattails of this man - a man who was now dead. No wonder he looked so hollow - his eyes sunken and skin sallow. He'd hitched his wagon to the wrong star and he would pay the consequences now. 

Jungkook let his gaze drift across the room and saw others too - Lee Hyeori, for instance. She looked no different than the last time Jungkook had seen her - dressed just as professionally as before and her face completely expressionless, as if she'd dissociated herself from the entire incident. She was clearly busy, addressing several individuals at once, lending an ear to a harried secretary every once in a while and nodding tersely. All of a sudden, her eye caught his and Jungkook looked away. He still remembered their last meeting vividly. The last thing he needed right now was to be noticed. 

Since he was relatively new, he didn't have the moral obligation to tend to guests but he couldn't exactly leave either. He was more of an awkward interloper at the moment and it put him in an odd position. As an omega, he was especially sensitive to emotions, his empathy tuning into the cesspool of bittersweet feelings swirling in the room. As helpful as his ability was when it came to his job, it tended to overwhelm him on such a large scale, leaving him stifled more often than not. 

And he was overwhelmed. 

But with relief. 

And he was probably the only person in the room who felt that way and he had good reason to do so. 

Now that Kang was dead, nobody else would know about Namjoon and his' connection. He would never have that threat looming over him, the possibility of his reputation and career burning down in flames any moment. The timing was so convenient that it almost felt like a divine blessing. So yes, he was absolutely swamped with relief when he learnt of Kang's death - the sword hanging over him precariously clattering to the floor. 

If this had been the him of three years ago, he would have been beating himself up for feeling this way - for feeling what was close to joy in a situation like this but he wasn't that person anymore. 

'Even if it is illegal,' Namjoon said gently, 'who would care?' 

'The law! The authorities!' Jungkook tried to retort and Namjoon laughed bitterly. 

'They're the very people who did this to me,' he whispered.' Your law. Your authorities.'

He thought he'd known the line between right and wrong. Between black and white. But ever since he'd come to Seoul, he'd been proven wrong over and over again. Besides, it was a natural rite of passage. The man suffered from a list of ailments and if it hadn't been the heart attack that took him, it would have eventually been something else. 

And apathetic as it may be, he didn't have the time or patience to think about Kang anymore. Namjoon occupied every single one of his waking moments. 

Ever since their last meeting, he'd been brainstorming. The first thing he'd done was be honest with himself. 

Did he think Kim Namjoon was innocent? 

Jungkook struggled with the answer, the thought responsible for most of his sleepless nights, the evidence contrasting his personality. 

Kim Namjoon certainly didn't look innocent. 

He looked like a man who could make someone cower before him with a pointed look in their direction. 

Like the kind of man who crowds parted for. 

If he was going by looks alone, Namjoon looked like a sinner. 

But Jungkook was the last person to judge someone by their appearance. He himself had gone against the grail to prove that he wasn't the fragile person he was perceived to be. 

No, the important thing to ask himself wasn't if Namjoon was innocent but if he'd done anything to make Jungkook believe he was guilty. 

And he hadn't. 

It's been the opposite, in fact. 

Jungkook had let himself think - just for a moment - if it was possible to imagine Namjoon as the persona he was feared to be - someone who was rumored to hold the city in the grasp of his palm, the one who had stumped every lawman who'd been unfortunate enough to encounter him. 

But all the evidence just seemed to point far in the other direction. 

Save the very first time, he'd been the epitome of a gentleman towards Jungkook, exceedingly polite if not daringly sensual. He hadn't been confrontational or short-tempered or contrite or any of the other brash characteristics he associated with someone who would have been raised in a mob. 

He didn't physically appear to be involved either. Didn't mobsters have tattoos? Some sort of markings? Something to identify themselves, to signify their loyalty? Jungkook knew it was just silly media influence to think this way but the only marks on Namjoon' skin were those inflicted in pain. 

And that was the final straw which swayed his thoughts. 

Namjoon was strong. That much was undeniable. Even in relative captivity, his body remained at physical condition, his golden skin rippling with every move. He was all lithe muscle and sleek steps. Someone like that, someone with that kind of physical prowess - it'd always puzzled Jungkook why he didn't just fight back. In the midst of all those interrogations, he'd never heard reports that Namjoon had retaliated or even showed the slightest resistance and that made no sense. 

It would be natural to strike back - natural for any alpha to attack in self-defense, but Namjoon had never ever done so. He'd borne the assault in terrifying silence and for some reason, nothing spoke for his innocence more than that. It was like saying: the truth will come out when it's due. Like Namjoon was saying, his endurance spoke for his innocence. 

But Jungkook didn't want him to endure anymore. 

He'd suffered enough. 

He was getting better too and Jungkook didn't care about risks and consequences anymore, he'd decided that he would help him be a free man. 

And that would require some careful planning. More meetings. More visitations. More shrewdness on his part. Cooperation from Namjoon. It wouldn't be easy, he judged, his aims directly contradicting the organization's. And he hadn't even begun to think about the aftermath - what he would be in for when the likes of Jung Hoseok and Lee Hyeori realized what he'd done. 

The logical part of him sneered at him in disgust. What was he risking his entire career for? His reputation for? A small voice demanded. For an alpha who wouldn't spare him a second glance when he was a free man? For his omega, who'd foolishly fallen for him? For an alpha who'd break his heart? 

It would be like repaying a debt, he tried to convince himself, pushing aside the bittersweet emotions. Feelings aside, the man had saved his life. The least he could do was return the favor. 

"You look like you'd rather be anywhere else right now," a voice came from his right and Jungkook flinched at the proximity. 

It was Hoseok, standing next to him in a plain black suit, hands behind his back with the same light ever present smile on his face. 

"Ah..I don't know what I should be doing right now…" 

Jungkook trailed off towards the end but Hoseok just nodded knowingly. 

"It makes sense. You know, you have to be the unluckiest rookie I've seen. It's barely been - what, a few months, and you already have to deal with a change in mentor. It's not the most ideal situation." 

That wasn't what Jungkook meant but he stayed quiet. Best to let Hoseok assume his strange behavior stemmed from the uncertainty of his future rather than his own fear of giving himself away. 

They looked out into the crowd for a few moments before Jungkook spoke up. "Can you arrange another meeting for me?" 

He asked the question bluntly, not even looking to see what expression Hoseok would make. He didn't have to refer to the man by name. By this point, they both knew what he was talking about. He knew the other man was probably looking at him with a mix of curiosity and well-deserved suspicion. 

"You just met with Namjoon yesterday."

"The sooner I have nothing to do with this case, the better," he said, infusing his tone with bitterness. Let Hoseok interpret it as he liked. He wanted to seem as detached as possible. Wanted to seem like he was just as done with Kim Namjoon as those that'd come before him. That the man had somehow latched onto his skin and refused to let go - like the ghost of a dark shadow. 

Hoseok didn't reply immediately but when he did, his voice was patronizing. "He's certainly intense, isn't he?" 

Jungkook gave him a sharp look. "You've spoken to him?" 

It shouldn't have seemed as unlikely as Jungkook thought it to be. Hoseok was one of the heads of the unit. He must've had a few interactions with the man in the past. 

"It's been a while," he sighed, his eyes drifting away from Jungkook's.  "But I don't think I'll forget it anytime soon. Kim Namjoon certainly has a way of leaving an impression."

For a split second, Jungkook wondered if Hoseok had been one of the people involved in interrogating Namjoon and his jaw clenched, fists subdued to the side. 

He was just doing his job, Jungkook forced himself to remember. Jung Hoseok wasn't someone Jungkook needed to make an enemy out of. At least not now. 

But his omega snarled within him, dark tendrils of vengeance threatening to cloud his mind as horrible thoughts of how Hoseok should suffer crossed his mind. 

"It can get a little hectic right now but I hope you don't go ahead and quit on me," Hoseok joked, nudging his arm, unaware of the darkness brewing in the man beside him. 

"Of course I won't."

He knew the hassles which came with unpredictable changes in staffing but Jungkook wouldn't dream of quitting just because he'd have to deal with more administrative work. 

He was on the track to having a wonderful career. 

He didn't even have any more uncertainties hanging over him. 

And most importantly, he wouldn't give up on Namjoon this way. 

… 

Jungkook wanted to take every word back. 

He would rather do a week full of night shifts than sort through another file from the archives. 

He would rather work through an apocalypse. 

Heck, he would rather go back to his days as an intern. The work was that boring. 

"After all this is done, I want to take a longggg vacation," Sehun was saying, as he went through the dull task of sorting one file after another. "Preferably at a nice tropical island with one of those silly little fruit shakes and the multicolored umbrellas." 

"Tell me about it," Eunchae grumbled, feet on the desk, almost buried in an avalanche of documents. 

"At least you can take vacations," Jungkook chimed in. "I have to work here for another three months for that."

They all sighed in unison and Sehun gave Jungkook a small smile. 

"Do you want me to help you with yours?" 

"Oh, I couldn't make you do that," Jungkook refused him. "You already have tons of work to do." 

"I don't mind," Sehun insisted. "Take a break," he insisted. "You look exhausted. Besides, you can take me on that lunch you offered to make up for it," he reminded him. 

Jungkook gave him a grateful smile before he headed off to the break room. If only he had more coworkers like this, be thought distantly. Life would definitely be simpler. 

To prepare for Professor Kang's replacement, they'd been buried in paperwork from the moment they'd stepped into the office: thousands of transfer documents and official records that needed sorting falling into their hands. Apparently, it was to make the transfer smoother for the replacement , as they were told. It wasn't technically their responsibility at all but by this time, Jungkook was used to how corporations worked. Especially these kinds of corporations. 

He poured himself a cup of hot coffee and began to sip it slowly, closing his eyes as he basked in the first few seconds of peace he'd had since the start of the day and not for the first time, he wondered if he should have just been like any other omega and got a job making flower bouquets or painting murals instead of this kind of subjecting himself to this kind of torture. 

Painting. 

It'd been a long time since he'd touched a canvas. He'd taken up the hobby only in his second year of college in New York. It'd been an old therapist's idea actually, something to get him to relax. To calm himself. He'd been reluctant to try it, stereotypes still playing games with his mind but when he'd actually tried his hand at it, it'd been…cathartic.

He remembered how he'd started: not with brushes or stencils or oil pastels. He'd started with his bare hands - fingers dipping into the cesspool of colors, swirling them up in the palette in front of him then letting them run all over the canvas. For the first few months, that was all he did: a flicker of paint across sprawling paper, a dash of color blotting white, streaks of expression on a blank slate. And it was soothing. It did wonders for him. 

It was only much later that he stopped looking at it like therapy and painted out of passion. And the first thing he ever drew was Jimin. 

He remembered how frustrated he'd when he'd tried at the start, an endless number of crumpled paper balls piling up near the bin. No matter how much he tried, he just kept missing something. Because no amount of exotic paints would ever be able to replicate the exact sunshine gold of his hair. No matter how good he was with charcoal, he'd never be able to emulate those eyes of his. It took him a multitude of attempts before he'd finally let himself realize that trying to memorialize Jimin on a piece of paper was impossible. He was so intensely human, so full of life that it was impossible for anyone to try to capture all that personality on a flat sheet of paper. 

Nevertheless, he did his best and while he wasn't the happiest with what he'd created, it was his first piece of art. And it was so intrinsically connected to his brother, that just made it all the more special. He'd been so proud of himself, running over to Taehyung to show him what he'd managed to do. 

But he'd never seen Tae so lost for words - eyes going glassy and mouth falling slack. He didn't blink. He didn't fidget. He didn't ask. He just stared. 

His gaze was so intense that Jungkook frowned. 'It isn't that bad,' he said, pouting slightly, hands pulling back the sheet out of embarrassment but that seemed to elicit a response from Tae. 

He snapped out of whatever daze he was engrossed in when Jungkook moved quicker than he could blink, snatching it out of his hands. 

'It's not, Ggukie. It's not bad at all. I was just…just…I haven't seen you ever paint anything before. You..um, surprised me. Anyway,' his tone turned cheerier, 'who did you um..draw?' 

He was being shifty as hell but Jungkook didn't dig any more. He was used to Taehyung spacing out. 

'It's my brother,' he said softly, gently smoothing the page as if it were actually him. 

'Oh.'

'He looks beautiful,' Tae said, his voice forlornly, eyes pinned on the painting. 

'Looked,'Jungkook corrected, the harsh reality check pushing down the lump in his throat. 

'Yeah,'Tae muttered. 'That.'

Sadly, his pride didn't last long. He'd moved out of the dorms into a shared apartment with Tae at the start of his final year and somehow, during the move, he must've misplaced it. Or it'd gotten lost in the move. It was probably crumpled at the bottom of some tacky old box he'd shoved into the attic, he thought bitterly. Whatever it may be, he'd lost the painting. 

But he never lost his passion for art after that. If it weren't for the fact that his residency drained him dry, he probably would've minored in art or something. 

Still, it would be nice to get back to it. With how stressed he'd been all week, sitting bare feet on the balcony with a paintbrush in his hand and the breeze flying through his hair seemed heavenly. And it wasn't like he lacked inspiration, he thought, a blush rising to his face. He knew exactly what the colors would mesh to form. 

"Jungkook!"

He downed the rest of his coffee and peeked out the doorway to see Sehun waving him over. 

"Let's wrap up for today," he suggested. "It's getting dark and we're all exhausted anyway. We can come by tomorrow morning and finish things up."

Everyone sighed at the suggestion and leaped out of their seats, arms stretching languidly over their heads, eager to get off work. Only Jungkook and Sehun stayed behind to clear up the mess the others had left behind. Jungkook - because he felt a little guilty for not having contributed as much and Sehun - because he was just that good of a person. 

"Hey," Sehun started slowly, and Jungkook turned to look at him scratching the back of his head. "About that lunch…there's this place I know a few blocks away here. It's um..really popular and I can get us reservations for tomorrow if you'd like?"

His tone was a little nervous and Jungkook cocked his head slightly to the side. His first reaction was to say no - he was scheduled to see Namjoon again tomorrow - something he'd bargained hard for. But he looked at Sehun's hopeful eyes and felt a little bad. He had promised him lunch and truth be told, he thought it'd just be cafeteria food, but since Sehun insisted…

"Um…sure hyung," he said and watched his eyes light up. 

"Great! I'll see you there at two!" 

Before he could interject, Sehun was already holding the door open for him to leave and Jungkook sighed internally. He didn't want to disappoint him by leaving early tomorrow but he was too guilty to stave it off either. 

It was fine, he conceded as he waved the other man goodbye. He'd just say it was a work emergency or something. Sehun would understand. 

…

He didn't go home right after, choosing to walk out to the pier to clear his thoughts instead. It was a cloudy night and it was probably going to rain so it was best to get home quickly but Jungkook found himself almost wishing he'd get drenched in the downpour. 

If he tried hard enough, he could almost make himself believe that the rain would wash all the darkness away, leaving him a blank canvas, ready to absorb the brighter colors in life instead of the swirling mess of blue and gray he'd amassed deep down in his soul. 

When he came to Seoul, he could have never expected that his life would become so chaotic. At most, he thought he'd have a stressful work life leaving him with sleepless nights and coffee filled afternoons but now, he wished that was the extent of his problems. 

He was being stalked and threatened and being forced to wonder if his best friend wasn't really that. The height of it had to be when he'd taken on who had to be the city's most mysterious inmate and discovered he wanted to be the one to uncover him. 

In more ways than one. 

Jungkook shuddered. 

There weren't many people around him; just a few couples and a bunch of street vendors hawking at the corners, a lone teenage boy smoking a cig at the lamppost, sneakers kicking up the dust where he stood 

It was chilly this close to the ocean, the winds blowing through his ruffled hair and he pulled his coat closer around him, blowing into his hands to keep himself warm. 

"Hand warmers, sir?"

Jungkook jumped at the voice next to him and saw a teen girl holding out a box of winter essentials, a street vendor maybe. She looked rather hopeful to make a purchase and what the heck, he needed some anyway. 

"They're two for one," she tried to convince him when she saw him deliberating and he gave her a nod, not wanting to keep her waiting. 

He paid her the money and slipped them into his pocket, watching as she walked down the pier to another couple, hands around each other. 

As if to torture himself further, he imagined himself in that position: him standing close to the railing and Namjoon holding him close behind him, whispering little endearments into his ear as he pointed out boats in the distance. 

He wouldn't have had to buy hand warmers. Jungkook knew nothing about Namjoon personally but he let himself imagine. He'd be the kind of alpha who wouldn't let his lover suffer even the slightest. The kind of alpha who'd keep him warm and scented and claimed. 

And wasn't that the irony? After all these years, his omega finally found a man like that and he was the last person he could be with. 

With a shuddering gasp, he let go of the rail and started to walk away, swallowing down the salt from his tears, pretending that they were from the winds the ocean had carried instead. 

Namjoon was a fantasy. 

He couldn't afford to spare him any tears, let alone his heart. 

Maybe roses were never meant to rest among begonias at all. 

… 

It was way past midnight by the time he got to Tae's house and he was just getting his shoes off when he heard the titter-tatter of feet towards him and the hall light being switched on. 

"Where were you?!" 

Taehyung was fully dressed even at this time, coat and all, his ears tinged red from the cold. If Jungkook hadn't walked in at that moment, he was likely to have collided with Tae on his way out. 

"I've been trying to call you!" Tae shouted, eyes furrowing up. 

Catching the frustration in his face, Jungkook realized that he'd been awol since yesterday. After he'd crashed with the intruder, he'd barely had time to process what had happened before he saw Namjoon and then came the whole thing with Kang…he took out his phone and frowned when he saw the blank screen. 

"My phone must've died," he guessed out loud. "I forgot to charge it."

"You forgot?" Tae demanded. "Jungkook, I turned up at your office last night, nobody even saw you there. Where were you?"

He'd done what? 

Jungkook, of course, had been with Namjoon at the time and if this was yesterday, he would have told Tae as much but he hesitated now, the barest memory of that tattoo crossing through his mind, the flash of that stranger's eyes on his and for the first time in his life, he hesitated. 

can't trust him, the thought slithered into his mind. 

"That's..none of your business Taehyung."

And he looked so taken aback that he actually stumbled away from him. 

"Excuse me?"

"I have a crazy work schedule, Tae," he argued back. "I got called in late last night and woke up to the news of one of my professors dying after which I was forced to sit through a gazillion pages of bullshit so excuse me for being a little vague and not being at your beck and call!" 

Tae narrowed his eyes at him, his lip curled up the way it did when he geared up for an argument. 

"The least you could do is keep me in the loop," he hissed. 

"I'm not your ward, Tae. We're not in college anymore! You don't need to shadow my every move."

"Yes I do! As long as you stay at my place, I do! " 

"I'll move out then!" Jungkook exploded, tired of his over protectiveness. "You offered to let me stay here Tae," he reminded him. "Are you changing your mind now?" 

Taehyung backed down instantly. 

"No, of course not, fuck, Jungkook." He brushed his hair back with his fingers angrily, leaning back against the wall. 

"I'm just - fuck! " 

He swore again and slumped down where he stood, eliciting a wave of sympathy from Jungkook, who slumped down next to him, resting his head on his shoulder, their faces illuminated only by the dull amber above them. 

"What's wrong, Tae?" 

"It's stupid," Tae murmured, shuffling closer to Jungkook. 

"When has that ever stopped you?" Jungkook teased, making the other shove at him playfully. 

"It's my family," Tae sighed. "Remember how I told you this was my brother's apartment?" 

"Uh huh."

"I was supposed to move out to the main compound as soon as I finished the..project they gave me. Sort of like a test drive. To see if I was good enough to work for them."

"Oh."

Taehyung had never made it a secret that his deepest wish was to work in the family business. What Jungkook was surprised with was the fact that he was apparently supposed to meet standards to work with his own family. He'd secretly believed that Tae was just another nepo baby who'd have a cushy job once he finished college but apparently, he was expected to meet certain expectations as well. Seemingly high expectations, if the stressed out look on his face was anything to go by. 

"Well, are you?"Jungkook pressed. "Did you do well enough?" 

"I thought I was."

"What changed?" 

"I messed it up."

Jungkook scrunched his brows. "Maybe if it's a small mistake, I'm sure they'd let it go?" Because surely nobody would be that harsh? 

But Tae just laughed emptily. "I haven't fucked up even once in the last three years," his hands tightened up on the carpet beside him.  "I can't believe it happened just now."

Three years on a work assignment? What kind of standards did his family have? 

"I'm sorry," Jungkook patted the fluff of hair falling over his shoulders. "Can I do something to help?"

Tae mumbled something against his shoulder that he couldn't hear and Jungkook nudged him, silently asking him to repeat it. 

"When I move out, will you come with me? I'd feel better having you close to me. And I'd have a friend here too."

And Jungkook fell silent, looking away from the expectant shimmer in Tae's eyes. 

It was not what he'd expected to hear. 

His thoughts were running wild about the similarities of the tattoo he'd seen and that was a can of worms he didn't even want to open. But his conspiracies aside, Tae had asked him at the worst possible time. 

Sure, he wanted to comfort Tae. Pay him back somehow for taking care of him when he needed him to, but this? Moving in with him? For the foreseeable future? Jungkook didn't know how to feel about it. 

It was one thing to share a dorm in college as two college students but to live with him? He knew that Tae was just as lonely in Seoul as he was, just as starved of company and for a minute, he tried to imagine it - coming home to his best friend, then watching reruns of recorded soap operas and falling asleep to jazz music with the lights still left on. 

It didn't sound wrong but it didn't sound right either. 

Yoongi's words flashed in his mind. 

'Your college roommate?'

'Yeah, that's him.' 

'The alpha?' 

'It's not like that,' he'd said, blushing furiously. 

'Forgive me,' Yoongi had said. 'I didn't mean to presume.' 

How many more people would presume? He knew it wouldn't matter to Taehyung. The man barely cared about what anyone thought of him but Jungkook cared. What if he was only offering because he was worried about him? That he was apprehensive about leaving his delicate best friend behind? The thought made him frown. He didn't want to be the reason people thought Tae was taken. 

But it wasn't just that. 

'We spoke about your omega last time. Have you thought about what I said?' 

It was high time that he made a decision about his omega. He couldn't keep putting himself through this kind of torture - scared to death about being discovered, about worrying if he'd survive his next heat. He couldn't keep hiding it anymore. His best friend deserved more than that. 

'I know it can be scary, but you're a wonderful person Jungkook. Anyone would be glad to have you with them.' 

Maybe it was time to take a leap of faith. He couldn't keep depending on Tae for his needs of affection forever. 

"I don't think that's a good idea Tae," he said, forcing him to go on even as he noticed his shoulders tense. 

"Is this about you thinking that you're leeching off of me?" He demanded petulantly, ready to argue against it. "Because I already told you that's bullshit and if you -  

"It's not that Tae," he tried to let him down gently. He always got like this when he was denied. He took a deep breath and pushed down all the hesitation. 

"I just think that we need some space. You know, with your job and mine. And..um…you're an alpha, people will..um..people will talk.  

Tae looked at him incredulously. 

"Where's all this coming from? That wasn't a problem for you during the three years we virtually co-existed in New York!" 

"We don't live in New York anymore, Tae. I don't want to hold you back."

Tae didn't drop his stare, as if he was offended by even the possibility that Jungkook would argue with him. 

"You're tired," he said finally. "Sleep on the idea for a few days and we'll talk about it later," he insisted and Jungkook should have been angry at Tae making the decisions for him but he was tired. He would leave tomorrow's problems to tomorrow's him. 

"Good night then," he said softly. 

"Good night, Ggukie." 

Taehyung watched Jungkook stumble into his bedroom and let his shoulders droop in relief. He'd wear him down eventually, he decided. He always did. Without wasting a single moment, he reached up for the coat Jungkook had discarded and dug around the pockets, his hands enclosing around a pair of hand warmers. 

Dear god. 

He ripped it apart and threw it onto the ground, disgust in every facet of his face as he saw the blinking red mini button fade to nothingness. 

And he stood up to hang up his own coat when his phone blared out from the pocket. 

He didn't dare to delay answering it. 

"Hyung, I -" 

"Is he safe? Do you have eyes on him?" 

The voice on the other end was crisp and to the point. It had never failed to reduce him into a nervous wreck and it was no different now. 

"He's back home now. He's safe," Tae confirmed, looking into the general direction of Jungkook's room. 

"And the trace? Which Taehyun reported?" 

Taehyung looked at the floor with a blank stare, a pause before he answered, bracing himself for his reaction. 

"It's there."

As predicted, the voice on the other line exploded. But it wasn't a fiery rage, rather an ice cold blast of fury, directed straight at him. 

"You had one job, Taehyung."

And Tae shivered in place. 

"One single job. And you fucked it up royally, didn't you? How could you let it get this fucking far?!"

Taehyung didn't respond, eyes closing at the reprimand. 

"It won't happen again," he promised but both of them knew that nothing was predictable anymore. That nothing had ever turned out to be predictable since that day, three years ago. 

"There is no 'again' !" A snarl. He could hear something being thrown to the ground carelessly. A distant crash. "We don't get second chances. He won't get a second chance. None of us do. What makes you think you deserve one?" 

Taehyung swallowed nervously, wondering if he should even speak the next words. 

"I don't want him to feel suffocated," he whispered, the very image of doing something to cage away the smile on Jungkook's smile making him ache. 

There was silence on the phone for a few seconds and the time which stretched by was tense - seemed to drag on forever.

"He is not your friend. He's your fucking responsibility. Or has all the playing house left you flustered, Taehyung? Are your missives confusing to you? Are you incapable of separating your feelings from the job?"

"No," he whispered, knowing what would happen if the answer was anything else. "I just…I just have the feeling he won't do as he's told anymore," he said, remembering the way Jungkook had turned him down just a few minutes ago. 

The line remained silent again but when he spoke, it was with deadly precision. 

"We are moving things up," he said succinctly and Taehyung was on alert instantly. 

"Why? Did something happen? What does -" 

"You -" and the venom in his voice returned " - are in no position to ask questions. The boy is too exposed. Things are going as planned on the other side, so hopefully, It's time to bring everything to a close here too." 

And Taehyung resisted the urge to snap his teeth in frustration. 

"I can't work without knowing what's going on! Give me a little autonomy, won't you? If you could just tell me just what exactly the plan is -" 

"I don't think -" he was interrupted crudely " - I need to remind you what happened the last time you were left in charge." 

Taehyung felt ice rush through his veins at the reminder, memories of screaming and pleading reverberating through his head, the reason he was on this end of the phone instead of the other. 

Just do your job, and don't fuck it up this time. 

Taehyung nodded at the command unconsciously, forgetting that he'd only be heard, not seen. 

"Yes hyung," he whispered. A silent acquiescence. 

"Do you have any other questions?" 

"Can I..can I come home after this?" He dared to ask, so silently, he almost hoped he wouldn't be heard. "Can I come back home?" 

He held his breath, waiting for a reprimand. A refusal. A dismissal. 

Anything . 

All he heard was the click of the phone as the call got cut off. 

… 

When Jungkook woke up for work the next morning, earlier than usual, he was surprised to see Taehyung already there in the kitchen, the smell of something freshly baked wafting out of the oven. 

"It's six am," he said, the question in his eyes. 

Tae just shrugged. 

"Cravings," he said in the way of an explanation. "Can't help when they strike." 

He pulled out the tray of crescent shaped biscuits and put his mitten - clad hands on the table in front of Jungkook. 

"Don't pig out on them," he teased, earning him a sharp swat from Jungkook. 

"I have to go in early," he told Tae, scarfing down the last of his crumbs with a glass of berry blend. "There's tons of work to do," he bemoaned, hating the way he'd have to sit through another morning of sorting. 

"Keep your phone on today," Tae said, not bringing up the question from yesterday, thankfully. 

"I will."

When he was shrugging on his shoes, Tae called out to him. 

"Should I swing by and get you lunch?" He asked earnestly and Jungkook realized that this was his way of making up for yesterday's outburst.

A part of him wanted to tell Tae the truth - that he was going out with a friend but he feared he'd go ballistic. So, pushing down the guilt, he lied. 

"I'll probably have lunch with the others at work," he half-lied. "It'll just be a regular thing at the cafeteria. We're far too busy for anything else. Sorry."

"Oh," and Jungkook felt horrible at the disappointment in Tae's voice and he left as soon as he could. Any longer and he'd spill the truth. 

The guilt followed Jungkook all day. 

He'd messed up with the filing order more than once, much to Eunchae's annoyance and he kept having to redo the archives because he lost track of his spot. 

"You really do need a break," he heard Sehun tell him and he groaned in embarrassment. 

"I'm sorry! I have no idea why I'm like this today."

"It's okay," Sehun gave him a comforting smile. "Besides, it's time for a break anyway," and he held up his car keys, dangling them questioningly. 

Right. 

Lunch. 

Jungkook got up, yawning, and followed Sehun down to his car, hopping into the passenger seat and buckling himself in. 

For some reason, Sehun looked dismayed, hands withdrawing from where they were making his their way towards his seat. 

"So," Jungkook asked, deciding to ignore it. "Where are we going?" 

"Nowhere far," Sehun assured him. "It's just a few minutes away." 

A few minutes away, apparently, turned out to be a chic high rise cafe-bar smack dab downtown - a fancy looking sort of establishment that Jungkook had no business stepping into with his mismatched shirt and tie and mud splattered sneakers. 

"Don't you think we're dressed too business casual for this place?" 

But when he looked at Sehun, he finally noticed what he was wearing - jet blue slacks and a pressed checkered shirt. At least someone looked like they should be here. 

"You look fine," Sehun assured him. "More than fine," he muttered under his breath and Jungkook gave him a double-take. 

Huh, maybe he was imagining things. 

They walked in, Sehun following him closely and Jungkook looked around the place with wide eyes. 

It was extremely high-class: furnished white walls complete with intricate carvings and marbled flooring and an around the room aquarium. He could see the string of neon lights and could only imagine what the place transformed into at night.

"I don't think I can afford this," he turned to Sehun honestly but he just waved off his concerns. 

"I know the owner here. In fact, he's the one who suggested I bring you over." 

"Oh."

Someone seemed well connected. 

For such a big place, it was relatively empty at peak lunch hours and Jungkook voiced it out loud. The waiter leading them seemed slightly taken aback but he recovered smoothly. 

"The establishment is known for its nightlife, to be honest."

He didn't explain further. 

After that, they were led over to a table at the corner, muted red lights and scented candles illuminating them and heavy drapes for privacy. 

It gave off a slightly…odd vibe. 

"Shall we?" 

"Um..okay, yeah I guess."

He moved to pull a chair out but Sehun got there just before him, holding it out for him and gesturing him in with a nervous smile. 

"Thanks?" 

He took a spot opposite to him and when Jungkook grabbed the menu, their fingers brushed and Sehun looked startled, a blush creeping onto his face as he looked away immediately and that's when he realized. 

Oh god, this was a date. 

Jungkook wanted to smack himself for not realizing it sooner. 

Sehun being so nervous to ask him. Him trying to help with his seatbelt in the car. The fancy place. The chivalry thing. 

And he called himself a psych.

Was his gaydar broken? 

How had he missed all the clues?? 

No, more importantly, how did he get out of this? 

He could certainly tell Sehun outright, tell him that he'd misunderstood things and clear everything up immediately. 

But then he groaned at the flaws in that plan. 

He literally only had one decent mentor now. Kai was never one to be counted on from the start. 

What if Sehun got offended? What if he was one of those people who was only nice to him because he thought it'd get him laid? Ugh..like he needed his life at work to get any worse. 

Just as he was about to say something, he saw the silhouette of a man walk past and Sehun looked glad for the disruption. 

"Seo Joon hyung!" 

The man walked into their alcove and Jungkook blinked for a moment before he realized where he'd seen this person before. 

"It's you," he blurted out. "The man from the hotel." 

Seo Joon, as he was called apparently, seemed just as surprised to see Jungkook here as he was. 

"Indeed I am."

And his voice was the same husky drawl as before but this time, his appearance was world's different from when he'd seen him last time in that dingy mini-bar. 

Decked professionally in a sleek cut suit, he commanded an audience with his cat-like eyes and tall stature. Whatever apprehensions he'd had about being to the city for the first time seemed to have long since disappeared. 

"Oh, you two know each other?"

"Not quite," Seo Joon responded, eyes still trained on Jungkook's, not moving at all. "We didn't have the time to get…acquainted last time, did we…"

"Jungkook," Sehun filled in for him. "His name is Jeon Jungkook, he's the -" 

But Seo Joon stopped him with a flicker of his wrist, silencing him. 

"Would you mind if I joined you two?" He invited himself seamlessly to the table, gesturing to one of the workers who scurried to bring him a chair. 

Sehun looked downcast at the intrusion but from his pursed lips, Jungkook could tell he didn't want to risk offending this person. 

Or maybe he couldn't risk offending him. 

Anyway, it was the excuse Jungkook needed not to be alone with Sehun, especially after his awkward realization. 

"So," Jungkook tried to break the awkward silence. "You own this place? I remember you telling me you were in the city for business the last time I met you." 

"Ah, yes. I was still acquiring ownership of this establishment at the time," he shared, arms moving back for when the waiters brought in an assortment of dishes. 

When had they ordered? 

Acquiring the ownership? Jungkook tried to appear interested. 

"From my brother," he revealed, a note of sorrow creeping into his voice. "He passed away a few years ago." 

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to bring up something painful." 

"Oh, don't worry. I've had my time to grieve. And besides, what better way to honor his legacy than to accomplish his dreams for him?" 

He raised his glass of wine in  Jungkook's direction, tipping the glass with a wink and Jungkook did the same, an odd sense of discomfort bubbling up. 

Suddenly, he realized how isolated Sehun must be feeling and tried to include him. 

"How do you know Sehun though?" 

"One of my distant cousins came to me about him for a job. I was the one who gave him a reference to work there."

"Oh."

Sehun looked firmly at the tablecloth and Jungkook flinched at the embarrassment in his eyes. He clearly didn't want to appear like he'd been handed things by this man who'd stormed into his date and commandeered everything. 

"Yes, so I don't really know him personally," and Jungkook really felt bad for him now. 

It was clear that they didn't have as close a connection as Sehun had bragged about earlier. 

Well, at least not from Seo Joon's side. 

The air was practically tense with everything left unspoken between them. 

Seo Joon was a perfectly charming host, speaking with all the maturity of a refined gentleman and the candor of a city-slick businessman, getting them to sample all sorts of delicacies, smiling at Jungkook's polite gratitude. 

He was incredibly nice. 

Accommodating. 

Generous. 

And Jungkook wanted to hop out of the nearest window with every minute that passed by. 

His omega was restless, urging him to leave and while he wanted to be the epitome of decorum and grace, he was never one to avoid his instincts either. 

When the tab came, he refused to let them split at all. 

"It's my treat," he insisted. "And besides, this is my place. You can always pay the next time you're here." 

Next time. 

The very possibility sent shivers running down his spine for some reason.

Just that moment, he saw the sky outside and gasped at the pinks and oranges spearing across. 

How long had he been here?

He needed to go. 

He needed to get to Namjoon. 

At that very moment, the lights dimmed above him and the neon flashed all around them, setting the tone into something more sensual, something more private. 

He needed to get out of here. 

Right now. 

"You seem to be in a rush," Seo Joon pointed out when he made hasty excuses to leave. 

"Work engagement," he kept saying, as if he wouldn't get to the door on time.

As if they wouldn't let him leave, a wild voice whispered at the back of his head. 

But Seo Joon only nodded in mock understanding. 

"I wouldn't want to keep you then." 

He followed them downwards and held the door open for them, probably taking in Jungkook's look of absolute dismay when he saw the downpour that had begun. 

Don't ask me to stay, don't ask me to stay, don't ask me to stay, don't ask me to stay, don't ask me to - 

He didn't. 

Instead, he did something worse. 

Shrugging off his own coat, he held it open for Jungkook to shrug into, his demeanor not seeming like he was going to take no for an answer. 

And Jungkook didn't have time to delay. He'd never let societal missteps keep him from Namjoon. 

He bunched it on in a rush and stepped out onto the freezing rain, not looking back. 

… 

When he finally made it to the makeshift hospital, he sighed in relief, all his worries melting away in front of the biggest source of his anxiety. 

He traced his path from before, the tails of his clothes dripping water, his phone vibrating continuously from an inner pocket but he ignored it steadfastly. 

Only Namjoon deserved his time and energy right now. 

Nobody else. 

He burst into the room with a flurry, catching Namjoon off guard and began to speak in a rush of words, each of his sentences tumbling into the next. 

"We have lots of work to do," he rambled on. "If I'm right, and I usually am, there's going to be a special court procedure to warrant your release and I know your lawyers will prepare you for that but I want us to focus on the technical side of the problem. I'll be called in as an expert witness since I've been handling your case since the start to judge your answers so I thought we could practice for that and - Namjoon?" 

In the midst of his tirade, Namjoon hadn't said a word, merely sitting on the edge of the bed as he stared at Jungkook wordlessly. 

"Namjoon?" He called again, not undertaking what was going on. 

He'd prepared extensively for their meeting today. Once he'd decided on helping Namjoon get out, he'd planned in that direction accordingly. 

Today was supposed to be about running Namjoon through an imitation of what he'd experience if they could bring this to trial. It was presumptuous to think that they'd get that far but Jungkook wanted to focus only on the positives. 

He'd figure out the red tape later. 

Right now, however, he had to tackle a bigger problem. 

Namjoon hadn't blinked since he entered the room. 

Not once. 

And Jungkook looked at him, his dark gaze on his as he refused to break the stare, a soft snarl reverberating through the room. 

And Jungkook's heart started to pind louder in his chest as he took a few steps back reflexively. 

He was supposed to be too bruised to move, he assuaged himself. Too battered. 

There was a reason there were no guards here. 

He was supposed to be too weak to move even a single step. 

But Jungkook gulped low in his throat, all logic squashed to the side at the dark promise on Namjoon's eyes. That didn't look like a man who was harmless. 

He may not be aware, but his body knew who the prey was. 

"I -" he tried again but the rest of his  words got stuck in his throat when Namjoon stood to his full height, Jungkook's wide eyed gaze now fully on him. 

He couldn't reach him, he kept telling himself. He was too hurt to. 

Still, his eyes sought out the door he'd come in through. 

"Tell me little rose," and Jungkook shuddered at the rough timber of his tone, "what do you take me for?" 

The question was plain enough, asked in simple enough terms but the omega in him was screeching danger. 

He realized with an almost violent sort of urge how imperative it was to leave immediately. 

"I um..um, I don't understand." 

"Let me repeat myself. What do you take me for?" 

And Jungkook couldn't hear anything except the raw fury in his voice and he shuddered from head to toe, back coming up against the wall, his flight instincts screaming at him to flee but Namjoon's voice turned him into a weak, shuddering mess, incapable of taking a single step, let alone escaping. 

When Jungkook didn't answer, even after Namjoon kept pinning him down with that inescapable stare, he asked again. 

"Do you take me for a goddamn fool?" 

"No!" Jungkook answered immediately, his omega whining at the mere thought that he'd dare to disrespect their alpha that way. 

"Then answer me, Jungkook," and he started to prowl towards him, miniscule little steps that turned into longer strides as he moved faster, and Jungkook could see spots of red seep through the white of his shirt with the effort, his sutures tearing with the movement. 

Don't, he wanted to caution him. You'll hurt yourself. 

But something in him was telling him that he'd already done that to Namjoon . 

"Tell me why you want to torture me like this."

And Jungkook shook his head wildly, fawn-eyes wide at the accusation. 

"No?" Namjoon cocked his head to the side. 

"Then punish me perhaps?"

Jungkook shook his head again and by this time, Namjoon was right in front of him, their faces not even inches apart. 

"So tell me little rose," he looked straight into his eyes. "If you don't want to punish me or torture me or make a goddamn fool out of me -" he curled his fingers around the lapels of the coat he was wearing and tugged - 

"-then how dare you wear an another alpha's scent on you in my fucking presence?"

… 

Chapter Text

nothing but my aching soul

Jungkook couldn't breathe. 

His body was all locked up, muscles tensed as he basically stood as still as a marionette with Namjoon's hands twisting on the lapels of his coat, holding him precariously close to him. 

Yet, they didn't touch. 

He tried to moderate his breathing - his omega growing heady from the proximity already, the last vestiges of logic screaming at him to keep a boundary between them. 

Which Namjoon was making practically impossible to establish. 

This close to him, Jungkook could make out every feature, could point out every flaw and blemish and scar and for some incomprehensible reason, that made his omega purr. 

He didn't get it. 

Jungkook was used to being around people who were put together -  flawless in the way they presented themselves. That's the kind of people New York was saturated with. Every stray hair gelled back in place, every wrinkle smoothened, every eye watching. He was used to beauty - to perfection. Even Tae - uncaring of others as he may be - never let the sunlight touch anything other than glass, faultless skin. Heavens forbid he allow his best friend to walk out with anything less as well. 

But Namjoon … 

Jungkook understood the circumstances, he really did. Locked up as he was, looking pretty probably wouldn't be high on his list of priorities as well. 

But this was a step beyond that. 

His hair was longer than Jungkook remembered it, barely brushing his shoulders as he towered over him, the strands so close that Jungkook was overwhelmed with the urge to just reach out and curl a finger around one - just to see if they were as rigid and unbending as their bearer was.

His face was marred with lines both seen and unseen, the golden honey of his skin carved so tight around his features that the skin seemed to be a mere visage, just barely able to contain the raging cruelty beneath. 

No, words like pretty and beautiful were for the rest of them - mundane and gullible, whose perceptions only went skin deep. For people who saw surface level, too obsessed with analyzing and observing to simply look. 

Namjoon was breathtaking, an archival type of splendor that shone from every aspect of him, the kind of beauty that blinded you with its radiance. 

Like a primeval god. 

Namjoon's jaw was clenched so tight, it accentuated the muscles stretched tight in his neck and Jungkook's eyes clouded over as he imagined what would happen if he let himself fall forward and lapped over the line of his neck. The heat of his skin. The sting of claws. The flash of teeth as he just - 

A growl. 

Low and wanting right by the shell of his ear as he was unceremoniously swiveled around by the sash around his waist to face the wall. 

"Don't." 

It was a warning, harshly stated, and Jungkook could almost feel the hint of phantom claws on the nape of his neck, could sense the blazing inferno of emotions ebb and flow, knowing what Namjoon must be experiencing right now. 

Jungkook blushed as his arousal swelled, back arching imperceptibly, almost unconsciously, as he let out a small moan, immediately mortified. 

"I can't help it!" He hissed out, secretly glad that he wasn't facing Namjoon head on. He wouldn't be able to look the man in the eye. "I'd get a hold of myself if you'd just let go. "

Uselessly, he tried to struggle free but Namjoon's grip was tight, unyielding as he pinned him down with nothing but the sheer force of his aura. His thigh pressed against the small of his back and he froze in place, instantly subdued, the possibilities endless. He could feel the searing heat of Namjoon's breath against his skin, the silhouette of him molding against every inch of Jungkook's body, husky cotton grazing against smooth leather and Jungkook's heart started to beat faster. 

Namjoon could do whatever he wanted right now and Jungkook knew he wouldn't resist, his body limber and relaxed, his heart twittering like a frightened animal. Anywhere else, the fear would be a sign to run, to escape. But with Namjoon, it was soothing. Something about the fear which Namjoon evoked in Jungkook reassured him - comforted him. Smothered him in a paradoxical blanket of security because regardless of his anger, his fury - Jungkook knew, instinctively, that there would be no repercussions. 

And somehow, he knew he was the only person in the world who could say that. 

The thought made him feel extremely powerful. 

"Let me touch you," Namjoon murmured, oh so close to his neck, the words bringing Jungkook's breath to a stuttering halt because he knew what Namjoon was really asking. 

To scent him. 

And the request brought forth a flurry of emotions in him. He didn't know how, but he just knew that once Namjoon's bare skin touched his, something would change. 

Irrevocably. 

And he couldn't gauge if the swoop of his stomach at that thought was because of fear or anticipation. 

"Just once," Namjoon slurred into the hollow of his neck, nothing but pure lust separating them anymore, his hands positioning themselves lower on his waist. "To get that goddamn scent off of your skin. Just a -" he let the very tips of his claws graze the shadow of his skin, making his body erupt into a shower of goosebumps "- little thing," he tried to seduce Jungkook further and Jungkook was this close to just giving in when -

" Fucking Park Seojoon," Namjoon muttered hazily, ice cold fury seeping into his voice and moved to cover the gap between them but the words were like a bucket of cold water upended onto him. 

Jungkook gasped, blindly elbowing Namjoon hard behind him and side stepped away when he stumbled back with a pained grunt, clutching his side. 

"What in the -" 

"I never mentioned a name," Jungkook said, voice still shaky from all the adrenaline, his senses slowly returning to him. 

Namjoon looked shaken too, his eyes steeling as he pursed his lips, as if he realized what he'd let slip, muddled on his own gluttony for Jungkook's scent. 

"You didn't need to." 

Jungkook gaped in disbelief, wondering at the gall of this man! Once again, he was struck by the painful realization that he was dealing with a man far out of his league, struggling to comprehend what had happened mere minutes ago. 

All of this could be a game to him, a voice in his head said.

Well, Jungkook thought resolutely, gritting his teeth so hard that he wondered if it'd cover the sound of his heart shattering into two. Let him play all the games in the world, he decided. I'll be damned if he thinks he can play me too. 

"How do you know Seo Joon hyung?" 

Namjoon laughed bitterly. 

" Hyung?" He hung his head as his shoulders trembled. "So he's sunk his claws in you that deep already?" 

"What're you talking about?" 

Jungkook persisted even as he knew that Namjoon knew more than he was letting on. 

"Forget it," Namjoon said flatly with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Get that coat off of you."

And Jungkook gasped out loud at the sheer audacity because what the actual fuck? 

"Excuse me?!"

"I said," Namjoon stared him down, thankfully maintaining his distance, "get that fucking coat off of you." 

Jungkook laughed out loud in disbelief, standing up straighter as he demanded, "what makes you think you can order me around like this?"

"Don't test my patience, little rose, I -" 

"Oh fuck off," Jungkook blurted out and Namjoon reeled back in shock. 

"You can't just do this!" He sputtered out. "Manhandle me like this and demand that I do things." 

He tried to adopt a semblance of calm, seeing as someone had to be the sane one here but he wasn't sure how long he could presume that role. 

"And why not?" 

"Why not?" 

"Because we're…we're.." 

"Don't you dare say strangers," Namjoon commanded, but his tone was softer, easing off its earlier edge. "Don't you dare." 

"But we are."

It's what we're supposed to be. 

"Hmm..do you act that way with all the strangers in your life? Do you press back against them, blush for them? Moan for them?" 

His smirk was back and Jungkook grit his teeth in part frustration and part excitement at the memories of how he'd reacted to the alphas scent. 

"You're infuriating, has anyone told you that?" He shot back and watched Namjoon's smirk get wider. 

"Nobody's had the guts to tell me till now but I suppose you'll always be the exception, won't you? My special little rose." 

It was the first time he'd flirted so blatantly and Jungkook found himself clueless as to what to do. 

"Stop it!" Jungkook hissed, staring at the door anxiously. "Someone could hear! Don't you care about getting caught?" 

"Don't you care about my sanity?" Namjoon retorted. "Get that wretched coat off before I do something we both regret." 

And Jungkook deliberated his options. He could refuse stubbornly, simply out of spite just to see what Namjoon would do. The shameless part of him hoped for another reaction like the one that'd happened a few minutes ago. What would've happened if he hadn't shoved him away? How much further would he have gone? 

How much further would Jungkook have let him go? 

It was a tempting option but he wanted something more than Namjoon's touch. 

Answers. 

"As long as you tell me how you know Seo Joon," he bargained and watched Namjoon groan, surely regretting his little misstep but he could see the small smile curl behind his hands. 

"I should have known you'd take advantage of every little thing," he confessed, sitting back down on the bed, leaving forward. 

Jungkook smiled back. 

They both knew that even in his present state, Namjoon could overpower him. If it angered him that much, he could simply tear off the coat himself, morals be damned. 

But Jungkook also knew he wouldn't do that, Namjoon loved the game they played. The slight push and pull as Jungkook coaxed and coerced from him and Namjoon gave him slivers - just enough to keep him coming back for more. It was a power trip, and they both got drunk off of it. 

Jungkook slipped the material off his body, draping it over his arm and looked over at Namjoon questioningly as if to say - your turn. 

Namjoon sighed. "It's not some big secret," he said. "We run in the same circles. Our families work in similar lines of business. We're not acquaintances by any means but I've met him enough times to recognize his scent." 

Oh. 

"Not the scandalous insider information you were looking for, was it?" Namjoon said wryly, taking in Jungkook's disappointed face. 

It wasn't. He could have gleaned the same information by a little individual research af home on the Internet. He needn't have struck all those bargains.

But one thing stuck out. 

"So you own a business?" 

It was more than he'd ever revealed previously and Jungkook latched onto the snippets like a man starved. 

"Interested?"

He gave Jungkook a wolfish smile and Jungkook looked down, trying to curb his enthusiasm, looking for a way to bring it up so that Namjoon wouldn't refuse him. 

"It's not out of personal interest,"he started and Namjoon quirked his head. "I've been thinking, and I feel we should start working on your trial." 

He circled back to why he was actually here in the first place, Namjoon having pounced on him midway through his harried attempts to explain the minute he'd stepped into the room before. 

"I've never worked for them in the past," Namjoon said bluntly. "What's the point? They all end the same way anyway."

Jungkook leaned against the wall. This was going to take a long time to explain.

For someone like Namjoon, whose circumstances were as strictly confidential as they were, any decision to let him walk free would have to be mandated by the state itself in an equally confidential trial. 

A trial for which an expert opinion would be mandated by the preceding psychiatrist. 

In this case, that happened to be Jungkook. 

Really, Namjoon had everything coming together for him this time. 

If only he could sit back and cooperate, Jungkook thought, with some frustration. 

"I know there have been trials before," he said gently. "Trials which didn't make a…" 

difference. 

He didn't say the words explicitly but he caught on. Of course there would have been earlier attempts. Namjoon probably had access to the world's best lawyers. But he also knew the reason why none of them worked out in his favor. 

"But this one will," Jungkook said with determination. "You're not..you're not the same anymore.  

And he wasn't. 

In the weeks that has passed, Namjoon's eyes were a kaleidoscope of colors for Jungkook to take in: sharp crimson fading to blood red dulling to intense maroon and finally, finally his orbs filled with the color Jungkook assumed he had before he went feral, the burnt sienna of his eyes burning into Jungkook's. 

"They can't legally keep you any longer," he justified. 

But Namjoon merely scoffed. "If legalities had any value, would I be here?" 

He gestured to the slate gray hospital walls around them and Jungkook flinched, taking the accusation personally. He may not have been the one to draw those scars on Namjoon but he was associated with the very people who did. 

Not anymore. 

Jungkook forced himself not to go down the dark spiral Namjoon was threatening to pull him into. He cleared his throat and looked for something to write on around him. This wasn't the penitentiary. There should be some leeway here. 

His eyes fell on a few scraps or discarded sheet paper and an old marker.

They'd do. 

"Humor me," Jungkook suggested. "Just for today, okay?" 

Namjoon didn't look convinced but Jungkook was going to keep at it. He was going to keep at it until Namjoon realized that he had someone in his corner who wouldn't lie and cheat and treat him less than a human being. 

"What do you have in mind?" 

Jungkook was glad he'd asked. All the previous times Namjoon's legal team would have pushed for a court trial, it was bound to fail and sadly enough, the reason for that was Namjoon himself. 

Feral state aside, he'd refused to verbalize his thoughts - Jungkook didn't know if that was an act of defiance or not - but it surely wouldn't win him any favors with any sort of judicial authority. 

But above that, he was pretty sure that none of Namjoon's previous psychiatrists had put in any semblance of effort in his favor. 

Of course, they didn't have the same kind of motivation Jungkook did. 

"The questions which your medical witness will be asked differ from the questions your legal aide will equip you with," he shared. "I think it's one of the reasons why you've never gotten a clean sign off till now."

"And you're willing to slide me the questions in secret? So you know what to put down on the red tape to make me look good?"

"It's not like I'm doing something wrong," Jungkook emphasized. And he wasn't. He may have been pushing the boundaries a teensy bit but he wasn't breaking any rules. 

Not yet, anyway. 

"I just think none of your psychiatrists…went the extra mile." 

"You mean they didn't give a shit."

Jungkook flinched. 

It was an accurate summary. Even his own job description didn't extend to prepping his patients for their legal encounters. That was out of his domain. If anything, he was the one who was going out of his way to make sure everything fell in place for Namjoon. 

"Well, luckily I do!" Jungkook said cheerily, not wanting Namjoon to catch on to his inner sense of turmoil. "You'd gain a lot from cooperating with me." 

He wasn't giving Namjoon false hope. While he hadn't presided over any legal trials of this nature himself, he'd done some extensive research on them and come to the conclusion that patients with a better rapport with the medical professional responsible for them had more positive results. If he could demonstrate, in front of a legal body, that Namjoon was a cooperative and forthcoming patient, he was sure the result would be different. 

Of course, convincing Namjoon of the fact would be a whole trial on its own. 

"Forthcoming?" 

Jungkook sighed at Namjoon's deadpan tone. 

"I'll try not to get too intrusive," he responded in the same deadpan tone. 

The only acknowledgement he received was a small nod from Namjoon but he'd take it. It was farther than he'd ever imagined getting with the man. On the inside, however, his heart was humming fast. The prospect of stepping into Namjoon's life was heady . 

"The business," he started, trying not to let his tone show the excitement he was barely able to contain. "What exactly do you do?" 

In all the pinned up articles he'd read, in all the archives he'd combed through - there had only been speculations. Mere assumptions of what he could be involved with. 

But Namjoon just curled his lip. "I'm involved in whatever makes me money," he said, leaning back on his palms and at Jungkook's disappointed look, he laughed. 

"Don't be like that. I'm not lying, it may be a little...eccentric but I've dabbled in lots of things but if you want to label it, I guess you could call it trade and distribution?" 

It didn't exactly narrow it down but a vague answer was better than no answer at all. 

"We can come back to that later," Jungkook mumbled, making sure he'd get a solid answer out of him. 

"Let's talk about something more personal." 

At that, Namjoon tensed and Jungkook pretended not to notice how his shoulders bunched up and his hands trembled slightly. 

"How personal are we talking about?" 

"Relax," Jungkook murmured. "I won't ask you about your kill count." 

It brought a smile to Namjoon's lips. 

"Yet," Jungkook emphasized, only half-joking. 

"Let's get it over with then." 

"You've never spoken about your family," he prodded, unconsciously leaning forwards. 

"There's nothing to tell," Namjoon responded immediately, his tone so stern that on any other day, Jungkook would've dropped the topic immediately. 

Not today though. 

"It shows empathy," he pressed. Hardened criminal or not, nobody could resist a man's bonds to his family. "It would certainly help to make a better impression."

Honestly, he didn't expect an answer at all. All these years without even a hint of who he associated himself with and now he would suddenly tell Jungkook. No, he wasn't that unrealistic but he could see Namjoon deliberating, mulling it over in his mind, fingers tapping incessantly on his thigh and he held back from saying anything more. He crossed his fingers behind his back, though. 

Hoping against hope. 

"I didn't really know my parents," he started slowly and Jungkook was hanging on to his every word. "With my mother, I lost her too soon to have any tangible memories of her."

Jungkook didn't apologize. He didn't offer his sympathies or his consolation because he knew how empty it would be. He'd received enough of those during his own loss and he knew Namjoon must've as well. 

"As for my father.." he sighed heavily. "I don't know if I've ever understood him. Or him me. It's certainly caused a rift between my siblings and me." 

"Siblings?" Jungkook breathed, too scared to ask for worry if Namjoon would shut down but he had to. With each word Namjoon spoke, it was like he was giving up a piece of himself and professionalism or not, Jungkook would cherish them. 

"They're a handful," Namjoon started and Jungkook was amazed to see the softest smile gracing his face, the gentle curve of his lips fascinating to him. 

Had he ever looked at Jungkook like that? 

It was a horrible thing to think of but Jungkook couldn't help but envy the sheer happiness on his face at the mere mention of his siblings. To be someone who was lucky enough to warrant that kind of reaction from Namjoon. 

They must really be lucky. 

Memories of Jimin flashed through his mind and he felt the tears spring to his eyes before he could control himself. 

"Jungkook?" 

"I'm sorry," he said, voice breaking. "This is supposed to be about you." 

"I wish I could hold you," Namjoon said suddenly, no traces of mirth in his eyes. "I..I don't like seeing you cry."

It was said doubtfully, as if he'd just come to the realization himself and Jungkook let out a broken giggle. 

"One day," he suggested. 

When responsibilities don't bind us like they do now. 

"Would you..would you tell me more about your siblings?" 

Maybe it was the vulnerability between them that emboldened him to ask but Namjoon didn't deny him like he'd feared. 

'I've never spoken about them. I..I..don't exactly know where to begin," he said in way of an explanation, looking at Jungkook, eyes wider than ever and if not for their self-decided upon distance, he would've thrown himself at Namjoon right there. 

"For starters, you can tell me how many you have?" Jungkook suggested. 

But Namjoon curled in on himself, distressed and Jungkook played back his words in his head. What could that little sentence have possibly triggered?

"I grew up with two of them," he said. "There's one who I..I don't know."

"You don't know?" 

"I'm not sure," Namjoon corrected himself. 

"Not sure?" Jungkook probed, his eyebrows furrowing. "About what?" 

Namjoon looked like he'd rather be answering questions about his kill count right about now and Jungkook shouldn't be pushing him so hard but - 

"My father wasn't exactly the most… faithful of spouses," he said with a scowl and oh. 

Jungkook figured it probably wasn't unheard of. Not for someone of their family's stature. Mistresses and illegitimate children were as abundant as there were chaebols and to be honest, he should've suspected it himself. With how sketchy his background was, he should've known that there were some skeletons hanging in his closet by now. 

"I shouldn't have brought it up," he tried to backtrack but Namjoon shook his head. 

"You're the first person to have asked." He looked straight into Jungkook's eyes. "Thank you." 

It was the most heartfelt he'd heard Namjoon be and it just felt all wrong. 

He was used to Namjoon having that holier-than-thou attitude, the overbearing arrogance in his voice, the upper hand in all their conversations. It opened up a new level of intimacy - one Jungkook wasn't sure he was ready to explore just then. 

"What's your favorite color?" He blurted out and blushed beet red when Namjoon actually whirled his head Jungkook's way. 

Well, he'd sure deviated his attention now. 

"That's a pretty big leap," Namjoon teased. "From family to favorites. Are you sure my psychiatrist is supposed to know something so deep?" He mock-frowned and Jungkook couldn't help but giggle. 

" I want to know."

"It's never been something to consider," Namjoon said. 

"Well, consider it now," Jungkook pouted. "For me?" 

"Hmm, if I had to think of one, it'd be..gold maybe." 

"Gold?" What an odd choice. 

"It may not seem like it," he said stiffly, "but in my day, I used to surround myself with every luxury you could imagine. Gold reminds me of better times, I guess." 

He was lying. 

And blatantly so. Namjoon was the last person who would bother with something so superficial, so materialistic. He probably had other reasons, reasons which Jungkook hadn't managed to uncover yet. 

"Fine, keep your secrets. Tell me your favorite thing to eat. Maybe I can bring it for you!" 

Namjoon smiled at his enthusiasm and began to share as Jungkook listened. 

He didn't know why he was insisting on knowing such trivial things but maybe it wasn't about his favorite color at all. Or his favorite food. Or, as Jungkook kept at it, his favorite movie or book or song. 

Maybe it was about Jungkook wanting to have some pieces of Namjoon to himself. It might not be the heavy stuff or the things which others considered important but anything at all. Just something to say - I knew this about him. He told me. 

Only me. 

He didn't know how long he asked Namjoon simple things like that, how long they spoke like friends who hadn't met in a very long time instead of the cold strangers they were meant to be but Jungkook only jerked out of their little bubble when his escort burst into the room, unannounced and Jungkook flinched at the suddenness. 

"We need to vacate the premises," he said monotonously. "Immediately."

Jungkook glanced at his watch. It wasn't time yet. 

He was just about to tell that to this man when he spoke again.

"There's another visitor. High priority. We need to leave. Now. "

Someone else to see Namjoon? High priority? In the weeks he'd seen Namjoon, he'd met with nobody except himself and his lawyers. Now there was someone who had the security clearance to come see him like this? So unprecedented? He turned to Namjoon. 

"Who -"

"Don't ask me questions you know I can't answer, little rose," Namjoon cut him off and Jungkook fell silent, looking towards the door the man had left through, where Jungkook was expected to follow. 

"Wait!" 

"I have one last question," he said, a cold sweat breaking out over his body.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow. 

"You can't..you can't deny me," Jungkook whispered. "You can't lie. I've never..I've never demanded your honesty before but just this once…" 

"Jungkook," Namjoon stopped his nervous rambling. "Just ask. "

"Did you.." he took a deep breath, "did you kill my parents?"

It was a dive into the deep, he was leaping into an ocean of pitch black tar, the grime of the lies and hurt he was dreading to drown in, lying in wait. 

He didn't even know why he'd asked Namjoon that question. He could have asked him a million other questions, a dozen other little things. He'd decided to assume his innocence, to presume his presence that night was a mere coincidence. Because why else would he save him? 

But the words were out. The damage was done. He watched for Namjoon's response with bated breath. 

"If I said yes, I'd never see you again, would I?" 

It was a rhetorical question and Jungkook's heart twisted in his chest at the response he'd conjured up. He'd demanded explicit honesty from Namjoon and it would be wrong of him not to reciprocate with the same. 

"I don't know," he whispered, shame and guilt wracking through his body. "I don't know, alpha." 

It was the first time Jungkook had ever addressed him as such and Namjoon's eyes flashed from deep brown to hints of red so fast that Jungkook didn't know whether it was his answer which had elicited it or the way he'd called him. 

The moments stretched by in silence and each second felt like an eternity passing by. An eternity where his heart stuttered in his chest. 

"I didn't," Namjoon finally said and the relief was so sharp that it was almost palpable in the air. 

Bittersweet. 

He would never doubt this man again. 

"Things will be different this time," Jungkook repeated, stomach churning. "The trial will end differently." 

"And how's that?" 

'You'll have me," Jungkook forced out and looked down in abject embarrassment, because how could he say something like that? Namjoon probably had dozens of people just simpering to tend to his every need. What use would there be for one more boy offering himself up to stand in his corner? 

But Namjoon, as he kept doing, surprised him. 

"And I'll be forever grateful for that," he acknowledged with a sharp smile. 

The man peered in again and this time, he seemed fit to drag Jungkook out himself and Jungkook didn't want to make a spectacle out of himself.

He nodded in Namjoon's direction. 

He didn't say goodbye. Or wave. Or let his fear show. 

It was too final that way. 

He just turned around and walked on, convincing himself that he'd see him again. Soon. 

That was the only way he could keep going. 

… 

Namjoon barely saw Jungkook head out when the man who'd been waiting for him walked in through another entrance altogether and he forced himself to stay calm.

Every soothing sensation Jungkook left behind was replaced with pure, burning rage. 

He came alone, no fear for the repercussions that may be. 

And that irked Namjoon even more. 

"You better have a pretty good reason for breaking the protocol we decided upon," he said succinctly. 

The man in front of him flinched slightly but didn't let his composure break. 

"This couldn't wait," he said with a confidence he didn't possess. 

Namjoon gestured for him to continue, letting his eyes remain blank, unfeeling. Still, the other wouldn't meet his eyes, letting his gaze drop to the jet black tap of Namjoon's shoes. 

Namjoon didn't speak first either, a subtle show of power in face of the other's already rankling nerves. 

Finally, when it was clear that someone had to say something, he took a breath and gathered the courage to look Namjoon head on. 

"The Parks have made contact with Jungkook." 

The hastily uttered admission didn't bring forth the reaction of anger of shock he'd expected. Rather, Namjoon tutted and his eyes darkened as he let out a deadly snarl. 

"You would think," he began lowly, "that I needn't be informed of that when the boy in question skipped in practically drenched in Park Seojoon's fucking scent, do you?" 

"Wh..what?" 

When had this happened?

"No," Namjoon stood up then. "It makes me wonder how bad your goddamn intel has to be for me; a locked up inmate, to know of things before you. Tell me," and he strolled forwards leisurely, "if things have gotten this bad, it can't possibly be the first time, can it?" 

In his heightened state, Namjoon could practically hear the fear being gulped down as the man cowered before him, still trying to maintain a semblance of dignity but he relished it. 

With any other person, he would have toyed with him, made him regret his incompetence, but he was too restless to know. Too frustrated with his limitations. 

"Tell me," Namjoon demanded. "And don't even think of lying," he warned. 

"It's the second time," he admitted, standing tall despite the intimidation cut his way. "There was a small incident at a motel, a chance meeting, you could say. None of us could prevent it. Fortunately, we nipped it in the bud. The second time, they didn't hold back. We found a tracker," he revealed, albeit hesitantly. Namjoon would not take this well. 

And he was right. 

Before he could even blink, Namjoon's hands were on his collar, twisting painfully as he practically tilted him off the ground. 

"What?" 

"I'm sorry," he wheezed out, not fighting back. Not even trying to resist. 

"You're sorry?" Namjoon mocked sarcastically. "Fuck, think about what Jungkook would have to endure if you missed it! Are you..fuck, what is wrong with you?!" 

He knew he'd feel the imprint of those claws for days to come and he tried to appeal to him as softly as he could. 

"You'll regret this," he put his hand over over Namjoon's. "You'll regret this once I leave."

Namjoon scoffed in his face. 

"You have some audacity. Telling me what I'll regret and what I won't. I could fucking kill you right now." 

His breath was hot on his face and he knew that Namjoon needed to be held back. 

For his own sake. 

"Kill me, maybe," he shrugged. "But you won't hurt me," he said resolutely, gripping his wrist tighter.

"I'm your brother." 

He could feel the hold on his front waver and he kept speaking, gentler this time. The last thing Namjoon needed to see was fear. 

"And the least you could do while trying to choke the life out of me is call me by my name, right?" 

He held his eye for the longest time, unwavering in the face of unsurety until he could feel Namjoon finally step back, turning around to look away from him. 

"You're as frustrating as ever, Jin hyung."

And Jin smiled, a secret little thing away from him. The first real smile he'd let himself have in three years. 

"It's good to see you too, Namjoon." 

… 

"Tell me everything," Namjoon demanded, but his tone held more control than before. 

Jin still didn't want to take a chance. 

"After the tracker incident, I had a little recon done. Turns out there's a mole in his unit. Someone close enough to report back but distant enough to keep him from being traced back to the Parks. He's not from the main family at all. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he's just an innocent bystander in all this, just someone situated in the right place."

Namjoon exhaled angrily. 

"There is no such thing as an innocent bystander. How did we miss this? Every person he was supposed to be in contact with was searched." 

"This one wasn't," Jin replied, crossing his legs. "I don't know how he was filtered through but I have the boys running another check. We'll have him gone by tomorrow."

Namjoon nodded in agreement but the frown didn't drop. 

"That can't be the reason you risked coming here," he stated. 

Jin assessed him critically, lowering his glasses. "If I tell you, will you promise to let me out alive?" 

He wasn't exactly joking either. 

Namjoon rolled his eyes at his attempt at humor. 

"We'll see," he quipped. 

"The Parks made a formal visit to the compound yesterday," he revealed slowly, watching the emotions flit across Namjoon's face, each micro expression barely lasting a few seconds. 

"What did they want?" 

Here went nothing. 

"They declared intent to court the boy," he breathed heavily, "and they've requested us to stay out of it."

Namjoon went utterly still, stands of hair falling across his eyes but he made no move to slide them back. He just stared at Jin, unmoving, cold and rigid. 

And this scared him more than anything else. 

Because he could deal with a Namjoon drowning in red hot fury. He could deal with a Namjoon who'd rage and storm in his violence. He could deal with a man whose outbursts would have probably ended someone out of fear alone. 

But not this.

Not this Namjoon. 

"What did you just say?" 

"Well, they didn't exactly phrase it as a request. It was more of a veiled threat and I think -"

"Jin," his anxious rambling cut off abruptly. "Repeat what you just said." 

"They're going after Jungkook. Like they did…like they did -" 

"Like they did three years ago," Namjoon finished his sentence for him. "Inspite of what we did to them three years ago."

"Yes," he whispered. 

"And what did you say to them?" 

Oh good god. 

"I couldn't..Namjoon, I couldn't deny them! It's not against the rules - going after an unmated omega -" 

"HE'S NOT UNMATED!" Namjoon yelled out, all of a sudden, his hands sending the stainless steel on the table beside him crashing to the floor. "He's mine. "

Jin flinched. 

"Nobody except you believes that Namjoon," he dared to whisper. "You have no proof."

"Proof?" Namjoon shouted. "You want proof? Let Jungkook choose and you'll get your fucking proof," he screamed. 

Jin recoiled at the vehemence in his voice. 

He was gone gone gone. 

"And you," he pointed at Jin accusingly. "How could you just agree so easily?" 

"What do you -" 

"I asked you for one thing. Protect him until I can. Just one thing. Hell, I even gave you an empire in return, and this is what you do to me?" 

"Namjoon I -" 

But his wrath seemed to be an endless chasm. 

"Maybe you want this. Maybe this is exactly what you want. Full rein over everything, just like you've always wished for, huh? You wouldn't have that if the Parks forget about Jungkook, would you? Heck, maybe you actually wish that nothing changes like -" 

"No, Namjoon I -"

"It must be nice, isn't it? Living the life which you were cast away from because I was forced aside? In fact, you probably wish I never come back, don't you -" 

"NAMJOON!" 

Jin's voice was shocked, holding a note of betrayal. 

"How could you even think that? " 

They were both breathing heavily at this point, chests heaving as they tried to pin each other down with glares. 

Namjoon: his eyes full of pain for a future which was out of his hands and Jin: whose very composure was wracked with guilt and trepidation. 

"I didn't say anything because I couldn't," he repeated. "The Parks have just as much of a right to chase that omega as you do. It's your obsession with Jungkook that prevents you from seeing reason. It's blinding you, Namjoon. It's been blinding you ever since that night. How can you still not realize?" 

Namjoon closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

If not for Jungkook, they would probably never be having this conversation at all. They'd be at home, back home where he knew they'd be safe. Protected. 

If not for Jungkook, Namjoon wouldn't be imprisoned like this. Forced to live like a sinner - like some measly lowlife. 

If only it wasn't for Jungkook. 

"I'm not blinded," Namjoon finally said. "Contact them again," he demanded. "Tell them that we won't stay out of it. Consequences be damned." 

"Namjoon, you -" 

"No, hyung. I've never been able to see more clearly. I know what needs to be done."

"You're chasing after a dream," Jin spit out. "Trust me, I know what it can feel like. Don't make the same mistakes that -"

"I'm not you," Namjoon said and his voice held a note of finality. Daring him to argue back. 

"And Jungkook isn't -"

"Don't," Jin pleaded. "Don't say his name."

Namjoon, thankfully, didn't push him and he sighed in relief, painful memories full of sorrow and fear and bitter regret flashing through his mind.

"You know what is to be done," Namjoon said instead. "Double down on his protection. Make sure you place one of ours near him."

"I understand," Jin nodded, getting up to walk out. "Is there anything else?" 

"There is one thing," Namjoon brought up. 

"What?" 

"I need you to bring me something." 

… 

Jungkook was driven straight back to the quarters after being hastily led downstairs, not allowed to even catch a glance of the so called high profile visitor. 

Who could it possibly be? Who could warrantee such regard from Namjoon himself? 

He thought about it the whole ride back and he could come up with nothing which fit. Ultimately, he had to put them on hold because he reached the front of his work lobby - 

Only to find someone already waiting for him there. 

Two someones, in fact. 

"Hoseok-ssi?" 

He'd never asked Jungkook to report so early. What was going on? 

But looking at the disgruntled look on his face, Jungkook assumed that he wasn't the one who wanted to speak to him. 

Lee Hyeori stepped forward, the click-clack of her heels annoyingly loud in the pavement as she walked up to him. 

"You didn't have a scheduled visit today." 

No greeting. No word of correspondence. No pretenses. She just launched into it head on. 

Good, that meant he could too. 

"I was authorised to," he said, equally smooth, looking at Hoseok to back him up. "I wanted to wrap things up rather quickly." 

She gave Hoseok a questioning look but she must've not found anything to warrant further questioning because she swiftly turned back to him. 

"Then you must have things you wish to tell me?" 

Jungkook remembered her previous visit. 

"Tell me, Jungkook-ssi, what else have you kept from us?" 

Well, if she wanted full disclosure, she'd get it. 

"I do," he smiled sweetly. 

What followed was the most awkward elevator ride he'd been on in his life. He was pretty sure both Hoseok and Lee Hyeori were staring at him while he continued to stare at the steel grey doors in front. He could sense a dozen questions bubbling in them and he was all too eager to start answering them this time. 

Lee Hyeori rounded on him as soon as she got him into a closed enclave. 

"So, did you pass on our message?

"I did," Jungkook replied, though he'd done no such thing of the sort. "I think you'll be pleased to hear that Namjoon is more than willing to cooperate."

Her eyes flashed a pleased look before she held herself back. 

"What exactly did he say?" 

"He's expressed his interest in continuing his efforts to communicate through a legal trial. To my surprise, he's been quite insistent about it, in fact. 

And her face paled. 

She'd surely been expecting some sort of information from Namjoon - not a straight-out declaration to a legal battle. 

A battle which he'd most likely win this time around, considering everything which was different this time. 

Clearly, Lee Hyeori was coming to the same conclusions as he was. 

"He wants a trial?" 

Jungkook nodded. "He demanded it, in fact." 

"A court trial?" 

Again, he nodded. 

"Where you'd give the medical opinion?" 

"I have been his preceding psychiatrist all this while," he pointed out, though the question was clearly rhetorical. 

She shook her head almost imperceptibly, hurriedly picking up the pitcher of water on the table and pouring herself a glass, chugging it down messily - the drops darkening her silk blouse. 

And Jungkook resisted the urge to fist pump the air in triumph because they wouldn't be able to hurt Namjoon anymore. They would have no reason to keep him jailed wrongly just to extort information be probably didn't even have. They wouldn't - 

"You're going to lie. 

"Excuse me?" 

Jungkook was flabbergasted. 

"On the stands," Lee Hyeori started speaking gibberish, hands gesturing wildly. "On the stands, when the judge asks for your professional opinion, you're going to lie," she declared. 

And Jungkook's hopes crashed to his feet, his heart suddenly feeling a hundred times heavier. 

"You're going to tell them that he's unfit for release. That he's a danger to himself and society and needs more time in isolation."

"I'm going to do no such thing," Jungkook said, voice filled with horror. 

And his own voice was so distant, it sounded so far away like it was a memory of him speaking instead of his actual self. That's how he felt right then - floaty. Distant. 

Lee Hyeori whirled onto him with wild eyes. "Do you not understand the severity of what you're telling me? He'd walk free," she spit out. "Soul's biggest criminal, walking free on its streets - all thanks to the bureau's extraordinary lenience."  

"You're asking me do something illegal!" Jungkook hissed out. "Forget illegal - it's plain immoral! Namjoon is fine. And it's supposed criminal. You've never gathered any evidence for your cause."

"The organization will shield you from any backlash," she dismissed his concerns. "All you have to do is what we say."

But Jungkook had made up his mind a long time ago. 

"I said no."  

His defiance earned him a furious stare. 

"You seem to be under the impression that you have a choice! Well, I'm not giving you one. You either get on that stand and parrot off exactly what we tell you to or good luck finding any centre in the whole country which'll take you in after this." 

"What?" Jungkook whispered in disbelief. 

He'd heard about the politics of jobs like his, hushed and whispered about in dingy, dark corners. But it was one thing to hear of rumors and a completely other thing to face such a situation himself. 

"You can't do that," he whispered. "That's..that's -" 

"As long as I head this place, I can do whatever I wish for," she informed him succinctly. Then, seeing his grief-stricken look, she seemed to take some pity on him and put an arm on his. "I didn't want to resort to this," she mumbled, almost in a self - apologetic tone, "but you've forced my hand."

Then, leaving him in that state, she swished away, but not without a few parting words behind her. 

"You have until the trial to decide Jungkook-ssi. Choose well!" 

… 

He was almost in a catatonic state all next morning, barely managing to keep up appearances, his mind preoccupied with the words from yesterday. 

Namjoon? 

Or the career which he'd worked so hard for? 

Namjoon had saved his life . 

But his career wouldn't give him up and leave him after the trial, he thought sullenly. 

It was an impossible choice.  

So lost was he in his dilemma that he didn't notice that he was the only one in the file room until lunch time. 

That was odd. 

"Hey, Eunchae?" 

"Yeah?" He heard her voice come out from behind a pile of boxes in the back. 

"Where's Sehun hyung?" 

She appeared in a flurry, patting down the dust off her skirt and putting her hair into a bun as she responded to him distractedly. 

"Oh, it's so odd actually," she remarked. "He handed in his two weeks notice just this morning. Something about an exchange program or something. I wouldn't have even known if I hadn't heard the staffing manager talk about it." 

"What?" 

Sehun and him hadn't been particularly close. Well, he hadn't been close. Sehun had made his feelings quite clear. 

Was it that bad of a date?

Then he remembered something else. 

"Hey, if it's an exchange program, who's the one coming here?" 

"That would be me Jungkook-ssi," a voice in the doorway announced and he turned to see a man - no a boy, dressed in all black. 

"I'm pleased to meet you," he introduced himself in a low, polite voice. 

"I'm Kang Taehyun." 

… 

Chapter Text

a house made of cards 

(and foolishly us) 

Kang Taehyun was a curious little thing. 

He wasn't a psychiatry student like the rest of them were, rather a forensics graduate, as Jungkook learned. Apparently, he'd volunteered for a transfer here as soon as the opportunity arose for an apprenticeship and if Jungkook assumed that they wouldn't see each other much because of it, he was proven to be sorely wrong. 

But that wasn't what fanned his curiosity. 

Jungkook just had the oddest feeling that he'd seen this boy somewhere before - that he'd met him before. Call it a gut feeling but there was something about him that Jungkook just couldn't put his finger on. 

It didn't help that Kang Taehyun turned up everywhere. 

He was at the office before dawn, popping up with a cup of coffee and his ever-present moody face. He stayed late after dusk, helping Jungkook put back the library books he'd been looking at. He sifted boredly through his bento box at the table beside Jungkook's, picking at his food lazily. 

It didn't make much sense. 

He was merely a young student, not even a resident like Jungkook. What could he possibly have to be at work for so long? 

"It's a temp position Jungkook-ssi," Taehyun had explained when he'd asked one day, brimming with curiosity. "I only stay here for a limited period so I must maximize the time I spend here to get all my credits."

It sounded extremely tedious, working himself to the bone like that, but Jungkook couldn't begrudge the fact that it was a huge help to him as well. Besides, he'd shadowed plenty of his own seniors back in college. References didn't come easy, okay? And then again, he'd be a hypocrite if he talked about overwork and didn't include himself. 

In the last few weeks, Jungkook had his hands full with Namjoon's case: perfecting his statements, running through his records and combing through his files with a microscope to catch anything ambiguous before a judge could. He woke up at the crack of dawn and left after sundown - still dissatisfied with how he could have been much much more productive. If he'd only stop being so hard on himself, he'd realize it was virtually impossible to do what he was doing :assimilating a favorable history for someone like Namjoon using the statements of people who'd only ever viewed him unfavorably. He'd taken up the monumental task of digging up every old archive, every old testament, every piece of evidence of Namjoon's stay here for the last three years. 

And in the midst of all that, Taehyun was the perfect assistant. Diligent and hard working as he was, he was probably every man's dream employee. He handled his mail, his itinerary and managed to bring him the cutest little homemade lunches ever. Jungkook knew that if he even so much as hinted at it, he'd give him an outstanding recommendation. A part of him felt guilty, using his sincerity for his own gain, but he squashed the remorse down thoroughly. He could make it up to him when Namjoon was on the other side of a cell bar.  

Taehyun went over and above his duties to help Jungkook and a part of him wanted to question his motives, (Eunchae certainly didn't seem to be so altruistically inclined) but he was so grateful for the extra assistance that he didn't want to point it out and say something that made him quit. 

"Your correspondence, Jungkook-ssi," Taehyun's soft voice brought him out of the notepad he was brainstorming on and he smiled at him gratefully, almost wanting to coo at the way his cheeks warmed and he tried to burrow his head lower into the nape of his hoodie. 

"Thank you Hyun-ah," he called warmly and the boy blushed even more. 

"You shouldn't call me that," he'd said, trying to sound assertive, when Jungkook had picked out the nickname for him the first time. 

"Why not? It's cute."

The boy had bristled at that but he settled quickly, leveling him with a pointed stare, as if Jungkook had been the first person to use that word on him (which would be a travesty. The boy was as cute as a button) 

"It's not professional," he gritted out. 

Jungkook frowned. He was clearly more upright than anyone he'd dealt with at this place so far. Maybe he was one of those dual persona types, he guessed - the strict, no-nonsense person at work and the chill, laid back person at home. Though, Jungkook had a tough time believing that himself.

"You can call me hyung too," he offered. "I didn't mind," he said sincerely. 

But maybe that had been the wrong thing to say, considering how Taehyun's face had gone a shocked patch of pale and he'd nearly messed up the papers he'd been arranging over the last hour. 

"I can't - I could never disrespect - I - no!" He sputtered out and Jungkook giggled at his attempts to be all prim and proper. 

He took the mail from Taehyun and scanned through them half-interestedly. 

He'd gotten the idea a while ago - to reach out to Namjoon's old therapists or behavior counselors to get their notes or files about Namjoon from them. He'd held out hope that he could salvage some information from them at least - to present proof that his silence at the time wasn't of his own volition but a result of the pain from the brutal torture he was bearing in silence. He figured, if he could get the transcripts, he could  match up the timelines so it'd hold up in court. 

Sadly, all he'd received were non- answers and insincere apology letters stating their refusal to be involved any further. 

He refused to get frustrated. To grow irritable. 

A lot of people were probably grateful that they had nothing to do with Namjoon anymore. He couldn't fault them for being wary. 

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he almost missed the wrap Taehyun placed on the table in front of him. 

"I had an extra," he said, avoiding his eyes.