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The first time Namjoon’s phone vibrated, he ignored it. When, after a short pause, it vibrated two more times in quick succession however, his interest was piqued, and he reluctantly tore his gaze away from the files Jin and Hoseok had compiled for him and pulled his phone out of his pocket. Jin had kept speaking, but Namjoon was only barely paying attention.
It may not have been on purpose, but I do have to thank you, Kim Namjoon-ssi.
If he hadn’t been linked to you, I never would’ve known the existence of such a fine specimen.
It was from an unknown number. And above the messages, was a video. Namjoon tapped on it.
Whatever Jin had been saying disappeared over the sound of his blood roaring in his ears. His hands tightened into fists, and Namjoon stopped breathing.
“Jungkook,” he could barely hear his own voice, didn’t even know if he was speaking aloud or not. But he was distantly aware of the man in question looking at him, so he had to trust that his words were coming out clear enough. “Trace Yoongi’s location. Right now.”
Jungkook’s face morphed into displeasure. Understandable, and normally, the looks of confusion and distaste on everyone’s faces would’ve matched his own. But not this time. Not if what he was looking at was real.
“Why would–”
“Now.” His tone brooked no room for argument, and after barely a second’s pause, Jungkook bowed his head, deferring. Fingers flew over the laptop perpetually on the youngest’s lap, and after the most agonizing minute of Namjoon’s life, Jungkook lifted his head. And yet, he didn’t speak immediately. When he did, his voice was hesitant, and everything Namjoon wished it wasn’t.
“It shows him in his studio but… the last active signal was a week ago.”
The phone didn’t go flying in the air, as much as Namjoon wanted it to. But his other hand soon found itself with bloody knuckles, and the desk in front of them with a dent. The others looked at him with alarm, but he gave no explanation, just a command.
“Find him. Immediately.”
oOo
When Namjoon first met Yoongi, he was nothing like what he imagined. But that was only because Namjoon hadn’t bothered to think much of the man. They met on the altar, exchanged vows, and later, in the space of Namjoon’s penthouse, they exchanged words for the first time. Only to swiftly come into an argument.
It was never resolved, and the next time they spoke, that turned into an argument as well. And the next. And the next. And so on. If the air didn’t hold ice cold silence between them, then it was the sharp knives of pointed words, aimed to hurt and maim. It didn’t come as a surprise, but Namjoon was still disappointed.
Marrying a rival’s child for the sake of power, strength, and money would do that, Namjoon assumed.
He hadn’t really cared, not when it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. For all intents and purposes, they were married, a truce – and multiple contracts – were formed. The money lining Namjoon’s pockets increased, and Yoongi’s uncle was secure under Namjoon’s domain.
As for Yoongi himself, he was content to continue doing what he was always doing, which had nothing to do with the family business, but making his own living as a producer. A better person would’ve tried to make peace with their new spouse, try to communicate and understand, find some common ground, and even try to become friends, at the very least, if not lovers…
Namjoon and his friends had no patience for anyone in the Min family, including and not limited to Namjoon’s husband as well.
So when Yoongi hadn’t showed up at Namjoon’s penthouse – now their penthouse, as much as it pained the both of them to have to share a living space – for a week, Namjoon hadn’t thought much of it. If anything, he was glad to have a reprieve from the constant fights, the constantly cold air in his own home.
The video now on his phone made Namjoon wish he had been a better man long before something like this could have happened.
oOo
The building Yoongi worked at was well equipped with security cameras, extending until the main roads. From there, it was easy for Jungkook to hack into the traffic cameras. And even as the roads progressed to lesser frequented ones with no need for surveillance, he was able to come up with a general perimeter of land. And with the rest of his friends’ work, Namjoon was now able to enter a building.
He really could have called back. But such messages deserved a direct response.
oOo
“Namjoon-ssi!” Song Min-soo’s face was of surprised delight, but it was as much of a mask as Namjoon’s carefully blank one, they all knew. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your surprise visit?”
Namjoon was not one to mince words, nor did he see the need to beat around the bush. Not when it involved something like this. “You have something of mine. I want it back.”
Song arched an eyebrow. “Oh?” He leaned back on the sofa, arms on the back of it, a posture of relaxed man, safe and casual. Unknowing, or perhaps, uncaring of the danger he was in. “I never thought it would be something so dear to you, Namjoon-ssi, to think you would miss it and demand its return.”
“You thought wrong.” Namjoon pulled out his gun, cocking and aiming it at Song’s forehead. The men around him tensed, hands on their weapons, ready to rush forward. A single hand lazily held up in the air held them back, if for the moment. “Where is my husband.”
“You really want him back?” Now, Song sneered, leaned forward to rest his arms on his knees. “Even after you’ve seen what’s been done to him? You would want something like that back? Something I know you didn’t care for in the first place, and now further tainted?”
Namjoon inhaled. Held it in. And slowly let it out. “How I feel is nothing of your concern. What you should be concerned about, is that you dared to lay a hand on what is mine, and thought you could get away with it.”
Song’s eyes darkened. He let his hand drop. And the windows of the elegant hall shattered before the men could even take a step closer to Namjoon.
Song may have been a formidable opponent, but he was stupid to have ever thought Namjoon couldn’t deal with him if he had the need to. Namjoon never had the need to, not before today. After today, Song Min-Soo’s name would become a cautionary tale, that not even his men would be alive to whisper of.
Namjoon’s men were far more than capable of ensuring that.
oOo
“Yoongi?”
No movement, not a sign to show that he had been heard. He tried again.
“Yoongi.” He dared to move forward, a hand outstretched. Knees drawn in, hugging them to his chest, Yoongi’s face was buried in his legs, unmoving, if not for the slight tremors, the shake with each inhale and exhale. He was still alive. It did nothing to reassure Namjoon.
He laid a hand on Yoongi’s knee, and finally, he reacted.
“Don’t touch me!” Panic, terror, anguish, anxiety, Yoongi pushed himself back until he was plastered to the wall. Face pale and sweaty, breathing erratic, pupils dilated, Namjoon couldn’t tell if his presence was a mercy or an abhorrent punishment.
Namjoon collapsed to his knees in front of his husband, head bowed.
“I’m sorry.” For failing him. For hating him for something he did not deserve. For allowing this to happen. For being who he was.
Namjoon did not expect, nor deserve, forgiveness.
Because Yoongi deserved none of this. Yoongi was worthy of far more, far better… None of what had been dealt to him thus far. Yoongi deserved a better life, a better past, a better present, a better future… and a better man.
But Namjoon would be damned if he didn’t at least try being that man for Yoongi first.
oOo
A week after his disappearance where no one even knew Yoongi was gone – no one had bothered to check – Yoongi was back in the penthouse. It was everything like before, and nothing like before. There were no loud voices, no objects thrown and shattering on the pristine floors, no frosty silences.
But there was still silence.
Kim Namjoon was a name feared in the right circles, revered in others. Kim Namjoon was a powerful figure, strong and courageous, the first to do what needed to be done, whatever that meant for whichever world he needed to deal with.
Namjoon was a coward to try and break this silence.
Head held high, Kim Namjoon was a man with pride and arrogance, soft-hearted to only his friends, but righteous in his own way, others be damned. He carved his own path, and others followed. Those who dared to stray did not last long in the world he controlled.
Namjoon kept his head down, not once lifting it as he kept a silent vigil in the corner of Yoongi’s room. If commanded, he would have left, but for that, he would need Yoongi to just say the words, utter them from his own mouth which he had not opened once since they returned.
Kim Namjoon was a man whom many fought for attention, and many left anguished when they realized that he only deigned to give his awareness to those he deemed worthy. Only his friends were the honored recipients of it, and not many else.
Days passed, before Yoongi turned to address him from where he was safely ensconced in his bed.
“Why?”
Kim Namjoon was a man of many words, eloquent and clever. What he chose to say ensured no one was left confused, and yet, many were oblivious to the multiple meanings his words carried.
Namjoon had no answer for Yoongi, not even in his own mind.
Kim Namjoon was no coward. A question asked received an answer, no matter what.
“I’m sorry.”
Yoongi’s eyes sharpened. It was the most lucid Namjoon had seen him in days.
“For what?”
“For everything.”
An eternity passed before Yoongi spoke again, and when he did, he repeated his question.
“Why do you care now?”
Kim Namjoon was self-assured, had an answer for everything, logical and well thought out.
Namjoon didn’t know what to say right now.
Kim Namjoon was always right, and never made a mistake.
“Because I messed up. You never should have gotten hurt–”
Yoongi scoffed. “Not like it’s the first time–”
“Not because of me!” As fast as he raised his voice, he lowered it, eyes dropping to the ground, guilt and remorse pooling in his chest. “Not – not when you’re supposed to be with me.”
Yoongi raised an eyebrow, regarded him skeptically. “Supposed to be with you?” He echoed. “Just because we married does not mean I belong with you – to you.”
Namjoon swallowed. “No, you don’t.” Kim Namjoon made the rules. What he said, people followed.
Namjoon…
Namjoon dared to make a request, heart in his throat with the fear of being denied. “But I want you to.” Before Yoongi could protest, Namjoon clarified. “If you – if you chose to be with me. I-I’d be honored. And I’d do everything in my life to make sure you wouldn’t regret it.”
Yoongi stared at him coolly. “Why?” Why should he? Why would he even care to? Why would it even matter now? And why now, after Namjoon had failed him, terribly, terribly so?
Kim Namjoon had an answer for everything, was too smart and intelligent not to.
“I don’t know.” Namjoon looked up, meeting Yoongi’s eyes, and as much as it pained him, he refused to look away. “But if you give me the chance, I’ll dedicate the rest of my life to proving to you that you’ll never have a reason to regret marrying me. Not – not again.” Not after what had already been done. Nothing could erase that, but Namjoon will make damn sure nothing like that would ever happen again. No one would even dare to think to do so – whether or not Yoongi accepted.
And Yoongi… Yoongi just kept looking at him. Time ticked on, and Namjoon had long since resigned himself to never getting an answer for Yoongi.
He let his head drop again, eyes on the floor, and kept his breathing even. Tried to gain the willpower to leave the room, leave Yoongi alone. Let Yoongi decide if he never wanted to lay eyes on Namjoon again. Even if the marriage couldn’t be broken, Namjoon would move the land apart with his bare hands to ensure Yoongi had the space he wanted from Namjoon himself.
The penthouse was silent, save for their breathing, and Namjoon’s mental turmoil.
It was only broken as Namjoon rose to his feet, enough strength mustered to begin moving, to keep moving on, to start helping Yoongi move on – and away from him.
“Prove it, then.”