Chapter Text
Jin couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
His cousin, his sweet and naive Jimin, was sitting in a booth at the back of the nightclub, nestled between two rival pack alphas. And drinking?!
He stormed across the crowded floor, ignoring the pounding bass and flashing lights. His eyes burned into Jimin's as he growled low and dangerous.
“Jimin, we’re leaving. Now.”
The omega froze mid-sip, his wide eyes betraying surprise and guilt. Before he could speak, one of the alphas beside him leaned forward.
“Well, well. If it isn’t one of the Moonclaw Pack mutts.” Taehyung smirked, swirling his drink lazily. “The weakest one, too.”
Jin’s jaw tightened. That insult—true or not—hit its mark. Every time they had clashed, he had lost. Every time, they had mocked him for it. But not tonight. Not when they were trying to sink their claws into Jimin.
He stepped closer, shoulders squaring.
“And if it isn’t the lowly alphas of the Bloodfang Clan, luring in defenseless omegas. As expected from a pack of scavengers.”
Taehyung’s smirk faltered, his jaw tightening. Jungkook growled from the other side of Jimin, warning flashing in his eyes.
The tension thickened, claws barely sheathed under the surface.
However, Jin didn’t back down.
“You may be an alpha, Kim Seokjin,” Taehyung said coolly, his voice dropping an octave, “but you’re crossing a dangerous line. Watch your mouth.”
His gaze darkened like a brewing storm. Jin felt the warning ripple down his spine, but he stood his ground. His heart hammered in his chest, but he refused to show even a flicker of fear.
“Noted,” he said through clenched teeth. “We’re leaving.”
He reached for Jimin’s wrist and gripped it firmly, starting to pull him up from the booth.
“Not so fast.”
Jungkook’s voice cut through the air like a blade.
The younger alpha stood up, gaze unreadable but full of quiet threat. “The lovely omega made a formal deal with us,” he said, voice like velvet soaked in venom. “If he drinks everything, we do as he says. If not… he comes with us. That was the agreement.”
Jin’s grip on Jimin’s wrist tightened instinctively.
Jungkook stepped closer, his tone colder. “So either he fulfills it, or someone else drinks in his place.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Jimin looked between them, panic flickering in his wide eyes. Jin could feel his cousin’s pulse racing beneath his skin.
Taehyung leaned back, watching with a lazy smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Well? What’s it going to be, Jin?”
He despised the mocking way his name was said and wanted nothing more than to bolt out of there with Jimin. Still, he was aware that if they made a formal deal, it was not honorable to break it. No matter who made the deal.
Jin glanced at the half-full glass on the table.
It reeked of something bitter. Strong. Unsafe.
But he didn’t look away.
“I’ll do it.”
A moment of utter silence followed Jin’s words—suffocating, and laced with disbelief.
Taehyung arched his brow, amusement flickering across his face. “You?” he asked, voice edged with ridicule. “You’re offering to drink in his place?”
Jungkook’s jaw flexed. “That wasn’t part of the original deal,” he said slowly, but his eyes never left Jin. “But…” He glanced at Taehyung, something calculating in his gaze now, then back at him. “Maybe it’s even more entertaining this way.”
Taehyung chuckled lowly, sitting forward with elbows on the table. “The Moonclaw Pack’s runt wants to play hero. How poetic.”
Jimin's fingers clenched around Jin’s sleeve, his voice barely a whisper. “You don’t have to do this.”
Jin didn’t move. He stared down the two alphas without flinching.
“What's the catch?” he asked. “What’s in the drink?”
Jungkook smirked, tapping the rim of the glass. “Nothing deadly. Just a little something to lower inhibitions. Make truths… easier to reach.”
Jin’s eyes narrowed. Truth serum. Or something like it.
Taehyung leaned in slightly, his tone silky. “Then the rules are simple. You drink what’s left—all of it. If you succeed, you both walk away. No strings.”
He paused, his smirk returning, colder now.
“But if you don’t manage to do so, you stay. Just you. For the night.”
Jimin looked up sharply. “No—”
Jin silenced him with a squeeze to the wrist. His voice was steel. “Deal.”
Jungkook nodded slowly. “Then drink.”
Without another word, Jin lifted the glass. The liquid was thick, bitter, and metallic. Whatever it was, it burned going down, but he didn't let it show. He drained the entire thing in one go, slammed the glass down, and turned toward Jimin.
“Come on.”
He didn't wait for a response. Jin led Jimin out of the booth, across the noisy floor, and out into the sticky night air. He flagged a cab, pushing Jimin gently into the back seat.
“Go straight home,” he said. “Lock the doors. Don’t open them for anyone but me.”
Jimin’s voice trembled. “Jin—”
“I said go.”
The door shut, and the cab pulled away, disappearing into the traffic.
Jin stood there for a moment, breathing in the night air like it could clear the toxin from his bloodstream. It didn’t. The world already felt a little too loud, a little too bright. Nevertheless, he had to go back and make sure the deal was done.
He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly and walked back inside.
The music hit him like a wave, bass thudding in his chest, and he made his way back to the booth.
Taehyung and Jungkook were waiting.
There were two new glasses on the table.
Jin’s stomach twisted.
Jungkook smiled, slow and dangerous. “You didn’t ask if that was the only drink.”
Taehyung tapped one of the glasses. “New round. Same rules. Let’s see what else you’re willing to trade for your precious omega.”
Jin stared at the new drinks which were lined up neatly and darker than the first.
His lips pressed into a thin line. “That wasn’t the deal.”
Taehyung shrugged, his expression maddeningly calm. “You drank without asking what was in it, or how many we agreed upon with the omega. That’s not our fault.”
Jungkook leaned back, arms sprawled along the back of the booth. “If you're really stronger than us, a few little drinks shouldn’t matter, right?”
Jin didn’t respond. He couldn’t.
Because the first drink was already hitting.
His skin was heating beneath his clothes, warmth blooming in his chest and spreading fast. Too fast. His heart pounded. Not from adrenaline, but from whatever the hell was in that drink. His vision shimmered at the edges, like the club lights were starting to bleed into each other. And worst of all, the room felt… soft. Like the world had been padded in velvet. Slowing. Pressing in.
Jin blinked hard and straightened his shoulders, trying to hold onto whatever dignity he had left. “What’s in it?”
“Still nothing deadly,” Taehyung said smoothly. “But you’ll feel everything.”
Jungkook leaned forward slightly, watching him closely. “That heat rising in your stomach? That pressure building behind your eyes?” His voice was quiet, intimate. “That’s the truth trying to crawl its way out.”
Jin's jaw clenched, but it was already too late to hide the pink rising in his cheeks and the way his hands trembled slightly at his sides.
He wrapped his fingers around the first glass, the chilled surface doing nothing to cool the fire steadily building beneath his skin. He lifted it and drank—slower this time, the liquid thicker, heavier—like it didn’t want to go down without dragging something out of him.
He slammed the empty glass down harder than necessary, as if the impact could ground him.
It didn’t.
The room swayed slightly and then settled—too soft, too warm.
He blinked –once, twice— but his vision stayed a little blurred around the edges. A low throb pulsed behind his eyes. His throat was dry. His chest felt tight. His skin prickled with heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment or anger. It was chemical. Coiling.
He tugged at the neck of his hoodie, breath hitching.
Too hot.
With a grunt, he peeled it off in one jerky motion and tossed it beside him. The cool air of the club hit his sweat-slick skin, but it offered almost no relief.
He didn’t even realize he had sat down.
Not until he felt the warmth on either side of him.
His shoulder brushed fabric—leather on the left, cotton on the right. A scent curled around him—Taehyung’s dark spicy one and Jungkook’s clean pine, both distinct and both wrong but close.
Jin blinked again, sluggish.
When did they get so near?
He was sitting between them now, his legs slightly parted, the table in front of him while the second drink waited for him. His body was humming—blood rushing in his ears, heat coiling in the pit of his stomach.
Jungkook leaned in, his voice low, almost gentle. “Getting comfortable?”
Taehyung smirked. “You’re doing better than I thought. Still sitting upright. Sort of.”
Jin tried to push away from the table, but his limbs didn’t respond like they should. The dreamlike haze was wrapping tighter, weighing him down.
“I’m—fine,” he muttered, voice dry and cracking.
He didn’t notice how his head tipped slightly toward Jungkook’s shoulder.
Nor did he see Taehyung’s hand ghosting just behind his back, ready to catch him if he slumped.
He also did not spot the brief look the two alphas exchanged over his bowed head—half impressed, half entertained.
Jin's eyes fluttered, half-lidded now, and he reached for the second glass.
His pride burned brighter than the poison in his veins.
He wasn’t going to break.
Not yet.
Taehyung’s eyes dropped lazily down Jin’s form, then back to his flushed face. “You look warm, Moon boy.”
“Shut up,” Jin muttered, but the words came out softer than he meant.
He tried to appear unshaken.
But the floor tilted beneath him and he had to brace his hand on the edge of the table. His knees shouldn’t feel weak, but they did. His body felt far away, like he was sitting just behind his own skin, watching it all unravel.
Jungkook’s gaze was sharp, locked onto him with something like fascination. “You’re fighting it. That’s adorable.”
“He’s not going to last,” Taehyung grinned with contempt. “Moonclaw Pack always did break easy.”
Jin forced himself to meet their eyes.
He wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
His hand was shaking as the glass felt heavier than it should—like it knew what it carried, like it wanted him to understand this was the point of no return.
And they both watched—amused, curious, hungry.
He brought it to his lips.
The liquid was thicker, darker and almost syrupy. This one burned differently as if it was crawling down his throat with purpose, latching onto every nerve as it went.
Halfway through the glass, his hand faltered.
Jungkook gently steadied it, fingers cool against the back of Jin’s hand.
“Ah ah,” he chided. “You started it. No backing out now.”
Taehyung was already watching him with a kind of smug, languid fascination, his chin propped on his hand. “Look at him,” he said, eyes flicking over Jin’s flushed face, the sweat beginning to bead at his temple and the way his lips parted slightly with each quickened breath. “He’s glowing.”
Jin forced the rest of the drink down, then dropped the glass with a clink. His hands slipped back to his lap, fingers curling into the denim of his jeans as he desperately tried to anchor himself. It wasn’t enough.
Everything felt too much.
His skin was on fire. Each breath dragged heat deeper into his chest. His heart pounded a frantic rhythm—fight, fight, fight—but there was no enemy he could see, only the two shadows sitting on either side of him, far too close, far too quiet.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. Don’t fall. Don’t show them. Just wait it out. You’ve taken worse hits.
But he had never taken anything like this.
When he opened his eyes again, the room spun briefly—just enough to make him lean slightly to one side.
Jungkook’s hand slid to the back of his neck, anchoring him as cold fingers pressed gently into overheated skin. “Easy,” he murmured. “You’re trembling.”
“I’m not,” Jin rasped.
Taehyung chuckled, voice rich with delight. “He says, while literally vibrating.”
Jin didn’t even notice how close Taehyung had gotten until the alpha's breath ghosted against the shell of his ear. “How much longer do you think you can hold it together, Jin?”
“I won’t break,” he whispered.
Jungkook’s hand curled just slightly against the back of his neck, thumb brushing skin. “No. But you will bend, won’t you?”
The words sank like hooks.
Jin’s head dropped forward, the weight of it too much. His body slumped an inch lower between them. Every breath was shallow now, every muscle tight with the effort not to give in—to the heat, to the truth, to the spinning in his head that made his thoughts slur at the edges.
And still, they just watched. Amused. Intrigued.
Enjoying the spectacle of the proud Moonclaw Pack alpha heir unraveling before their eyes.
And Jin? He hated it.
But he couldn’t stop it.
Jin was sweating through his shirt now. He could feel it sticking to his back, to his chest. Every inch of him was too warm, like his skin was a layer too thin. His breath hitched with each inhale, shallow and uneven.
And he was still sitting between them.
Jungkook hadn’t moved his hand from the back of Jin’s neck—his touch maddeningly gentle, fingers playing with the ends of Jin’s hair like they were already familiar. A thumb brushed behind his ear, slow, soothing.
Taehyung, on the other hand, had shifted closer. One arm draped along the back of the booth, fingers tapping lazily. The other rested on the seat behind Jin, his thigh now pressed solidly against Jin’s.
The contact sent a shock through him.
He tried to shift away, but it only made him slide further down the booth—closer to Jungkook.
“Careful,” Jungkook warned, voice smooth and filled with amusement. “You’ll fall if you keep wriggling like that.”
Taehyung leaned in, eyes glittering. “You’re flushed, baby alpha. You hot?”
“Get off me,” Jin rasped, barely able to form the words. His mouth was dry, lips tingling.
“No one’s on you,” Taehyung smirked, fingers tracing the seam of Jin’s jeans where their legs touched. “Yet.”
Jin shuddered.
“Let’s ask something simple,” Jungkook said, his tone deceptively kind. “Why were you really at the club tonight, Jin? Hm?”
Jin clenched his jaw, trying to stay silent.
The serum didn’t let him.
“Jimin,” he ground out, glaring ahead. “He was stupid enough to come here. Alone.”
“Was he alone?” Taehyung asked. “Or were you already tailing him?”
Jin’s mouth twitched. His eyes closed, willing the pressure away.
“…I followed him.”
“Of course you did,” Jungkook chuckled. “Big cousin, always watching. Always protecting.”
Taehyung tilted his head, his hand now ghosting along the inside of Jin’s arm. “But protecting from what, exactly?” he murmured. “From us? Or from the way he wants to look at us?”
Jin flinched. “He doesn’t—”
“Liar,” Taehyung said immediately. Not accusing. Just stating.
Jin opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
The alphas were close enough now that he could feel the heat off their bodies, two wolves circling the trembling one caught between.
Jungkook’s hand drifted, slow, down from Jin’s neck to his shoulder, rubbing lightly. “You act like you hate us. But here you are. Drinking our poison. Sitting in our booth. Letting us touch you.”
“I don’t want—”
Taehyung leaned in so close his breath kissed Jin’s jaw. “Then why aren’t you stopping us?”
Jin’s fists clenched in his lap, but his body was sinking, inch by inch, shoulders relaxing against his will.
He wanted to move.
To stand.
To push them both away.
But his body had stopped listening five minutes ago, and now it just burned. The horrifying thing was that he couldn’t completely blame the strange liquid for allowing them to touch him.
“You’re fighting so hard,” Jungkook whispered. “Is it because you’re afraid of losing? Or afraid of wanting?”
Taehyung’s fingers found Jin’s pulse point and pressed lightly against it, just to feel how fast it was racing. “We could help, you know. If you’d just let go.”
Jin’s breath stuttered in his throat.
He was trembling again.
But he still didn’t answer.
“You’re afraid of the desire burning in your chest,” Jungkook said again, voice a murmur against Jin’s heated skin.
Jin didn’t answer.
He couldn’t. His throat was tight, his thoughts thick. The heat wasn't just in his body now — it was in his mind. Softening things. Slipping truths between his clenched teeth.
Taehyung’s fingers traced slow, taunting lines along Jin’s wrist, his voice low and mocking-sweet. “Bet you’ve never let anyone touch you like this. Not even your precious Moon Pack.”
Jin turned his face away, but they were too close. Every movement just brushed him against the other.
“You talk big,” Jungkook said, leaning in again, his breath feathering over Jin’s jaw. “But you’ve always been the outsider in your own pack, haven’t you?”
No. Don’t.
“Too soft. Too slow. Too proud to admit you never quite measured up.”
Shut up.
Taehyung tilted his head, watching Jin’s clenched fists tremble. “That’s why you always try so hard, isn’t it?” he murmured. “Trying to prove you’re worth something.”
Something cracked.
Jin didn’t hear himself speak until the words were already spilling out.
“They only keep me around because of my name.”
Silence.
It rang louder than the music around them.
Jin’s eyes widened, horror sinking in like ice under all that heat. His heart dropped into his stomach. He hadn’t meant to say it. He hadn’t even thought it fully—at least not in words.
But now it was out.
And the two alphas heard it. Two alphas from the rival pack.
Taehyung blinked once, his smirk faltering. Jungkook stared at him, eyes unreadable for the first time that night.
Something heavy settled in the air. Not mockery. Not victory.
Just deafening silence.
And that—that—was worse.
The humiliation surged through Jin’s chest like a second drug, hotter than the first. It burned in his face, behind his eyes, under his skin.
He shoved himself up from the booth.
Too fast.
The room tilted, hard.
But Jin was already pushing past Jungkook, ignoring the way the alpha’s hand instinctively reached out to steady him.
“Don’t touch me,” Jin snapped, his voice hoarse and thick with shame.
He stumbled, bumping into the edge of the table, and nearly lost his balance. The world swam, colors too bright, sounds too loud.
Behind him, Taehyung’s voice was quieter now and he wasn’t certain if he imagined it, but it sounded more careful. “Jin—”
“Stay away from me!” Jin barked while everything in him screamed retreat.
From the heat, from the poison in his veins, from the truths still clawing at his throat.
From them.
Jin shoved himself up from the booth, heart pounding.
Get out. Get away.
But before he could take another step, firm hands caught his wrists from behind, holding him steady—not harsh, but impossible to break free from.
He turned around and met Jungkook’s eyes which held something dark, unreadable. “Not going anywhere.”
Taehyung blocked the path. “Where do you think you’re running to, golden boy?”
Panic flared hot inside Jin. He pulled and twisted, desperate to break free, but Jungkook’s grip was like iron. His limbs felt heavy, his body sluggish—like the weight of his own shame dragged him down.
They’re just toying with me.
His chest tightened. The secret he had spilled—the truth he had fought so hard to hide—was out. And now, with those knowing looks and teasing touches, they were playing with him like a cat with a trapped mouse.
“No! Let me go!” Jin growled, struggling harder, voice breaking. “I’m not—”
But before he could finish, Jungkook slid behind him, guiding him gently but firmly back into the booth and to sit down again. Jin’s back pressed flush against Jungkook’s broad chest, warm and steady.
“You’ve already lost,” Jungkook murmured, voice low but calm. “There’s nowhere to run from this.”
He felt nauseous. No, he drank what was in the last glass, he was sure he did. He glanced at the table and to his despair noticed a few drops were spilled. The glass probably toppled over when he abruptly got up and he hadn’t noticed before that he did not drink all of the contents. They won.
Taehyung leaned forward, fingers curling under Jin’s chin and tilting his head up.
The alpha leaned in close, his breath warm against Jin’s cheek. “You’re ours tonight.”
Jin swallowed hard. The room tilted again, and his eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the realization.
They weren’t just alphas. They were hunters. And he was the prey caught in their web.
He loathed how other than fear there was a thrill deep down at the situation he was in.
How could he not be fully disgusted by the two alphas who obviously just wanted to make his life miserable?
Jin’s eyes snapped wide open, burning with frustration as he glared at Taehyung, trying to hide any other unbidden emotion bubbling to the surface.
He fought to keep from relaxing into Jungkook’s hold, but it was like his body wanted to settle, wanted to stop fighting.
He could feel Jungkook’s steady breath against his neck and used all of his remaining willpower not to shiver.
He blinked deliberately slow at Taehyung, struggling not to show how much he was battling the magnetic pull of the other alpha’s touch.
Hate. Embarrassment. Anger. Pride. All tangled together in a wild, impossible knot inside him.
He hated this.
But more than that, he hated that he might be starting to want it.
To want them.