The bass was vibrating through Jimin's chest when the beat dropped. The glasses above him were rattling softly and the crowd on the dancefloor was grinding like it was one big body, a monster summoned and caught by the drums of the shaman. Hours of excited breathing were dripping from the ceiling of the basement, sparkling with the colors of the red and blue neon lights, and Jimin smiled satisfied.

"Channy's here and can take over now," a voice shouted into his ear and Jimin let go of the glass he had been cleaning just now. He nodded at Yoongi and left his place behind the bar. As much as he liked to help out behind the counter, he loathed the soap water for washing the glasses. It ruined his hands.

"Sorry," Chanyeol greeted him when he took his place and began to clean away the dirty glasses twice as fast as Jimin without even looking. "My wife's been sick since yesterday. And the baby, you know. I wanted-"

"It's fine," Jimin shouted back over the music and waved it off. Who was he to be mad at people who cared for their families and lovers? The big guy smiled at him gratefully and then turned towards Yoongi who was giving him orders for restocking the fridge and bar.

And once again Jimin was left to doing nothing but scanning the room for people in need of something and people who needed to be thrown out. But the night was at its peak, so there were no dead-drunk puking girls or guys whose confidence had been boosted by too much alcohol, just couples kissing in the shadows of booths. So, he could as well enjoy himself on the dancefloor and lose himself a little in the music like back in the old days.

Like a good old friend, the sweaty delusional mass welcomed him into its hot stomach, people grinding against him from every side, some feisty hands probing places they should not touch, and perfume clouding his senses. Like a devil's lair. It was perfect. The music lulled him into a trance and he just let go, following the movement of the hips behind him and the arms around his neck.

But it was only perfect until he saw a certain someone from the corner of his half-lidded eyes, and with a sigh he fought his way out of the crowd to find Wonho. The bumper was leaning on a table next to the stairs that led up to the exit, sipping on a coke, and was scanning the booths and bar with little interest. Only when he saw Jimin, his attention perked and he stood straight.

"What's wrong?" he asked without delay when he saw Jimin's displeased look.

"Call the cops. That little shithead is selling in my club again," Jimin growled and turned back to face said shithead.

Since the very first day of his club, Jimin had done everything to keep his books and his name clean, but last winter some stupid little gangster pawn thought he could sell his pills in Jimin's establishment, and just kicking him out like they had done in the beginning had not solved the problem. That little asshole was persistent like the plague. And even though Jimin had been concerned for a bigger underground guy coming to find trouble with him, he had called the police to get rid of that jerk once and for all, but, apparently, that scum was back.

"Hey, dick head!" he shouted at the booth where that little gangster was currently talking to some girls.

The guy turned his head and just grinned arrogantly. "What? I'm not selling," the asshat shouted.

"You've got a house ban. Did you forget?" Jimin asked back, holding back from punching that shit-eating grin out of the asshole's face.

"Uh, sorry, dude. It's been so long. My memory's shit," the guy said and almost convinced Jimin. He even got up to leave willingly, impressing the silver-haired with his amount of personal reflection.

That was until he saw the policemen, who walked over from the entrance guided by Wonho, and suddenly made a jump and leaped towards the restrooms.

"Fuck," Jimin whispered and ran after him. That idiot was either going to flush his pills or escape through the window. Either way it would only make it harder for Jimin to get rid of him in the end. And he wanted that asshole to burn.

"Leave him to me!" a well-known voice shouted from behind him and in the next second he was pushed out of the way and a blue-clad frame rushed past him and into the men's restroom.

Amazed Jimin watched how said muscular frame jumped over the stall fence like it was nothing, and in the next second the stall door opened and that little gangster was on the floor with his arm twisted on his back, groaning in frustration.

"Well, hello there," Jimin sing-sang while he leaned against the sink with a grin and watched the scene of officer Jeon cuffing the criminal. That man looked damn fine. So strong and rough that he could crush you and hold you down. He was of the kind that Jimin just wanted to slam himself into. Just the idea of sitting on that face...

"Hi," Jeon greeted back with a badly suppressed smile and his eyes stuck to Jimin a little too long, brushing over his appearance like he wanted to take it in but knew he should not. When they had first met, he had stripped Jimin down with only one look, so much greed in his eyes. Back then Jimin had been barely able to hold down the excitement only thinking about how it would feel to be manhandled by that hard muscle and raw desire. But afterwards the officer had started to school his expression, much to Jimin's disappointment.

"How's your night been?" he asked lightly like they had not just chased a damn pill bag to his restroom.

"Good so far," Jeon answered and pulled up the culprit to push past him with the sulking man. Jimin followed them.

"Nice job, Kook," the tall officer, whom Jimin had seen Jungkook with some nights ago, said and nodded at Jimin to show he recognized the one who gifted him a coke. "Let's hand him over and continue."

Continue? So, they would not leave after this?

"Officers!" Jimin called after them once they had stepped out of the door and onto the street. The two turned around. "When you've gotten rid of that scum, drinks are on me." He raised an eyebrow at them in question.

"Thank you, Mr..." the tall guy, Kim Namjoon read his uniform, began.

"Park," Jungkook answered before Jimin could. Then he looked like he wanted to swallow his own lips.

"Mr. Park," Kim continued, "but we can't stress your hospitality like this. One might think we are bribed by you." There was a sarcastic smile on those full lips, telling Jimin that the officer was only joking, so he decided to play along.

"How can this be bribing?" he asked back with a smirk. "If I wanted to bribe you, I'd offer much more than a drink." He looked at Jeon and saw the officers wide panicked eyes and a nervous bob of his Adam's apple. Bambi was back, staring at him like he was about to be shot by him.

"Disgusting queer," that little gangster spat and looked at Jimin like he was about to throw up at the sight of him.

"What's it to you?" Jimin snapped back, face dark in an instant. "Your ass is so ugly that you're safe, don't worry."

To his astonishment, officer Kim twisted that scum's arm a little too far, making him groan and cough in pain. "You should make use of your right to be quiet," the tall man growled before he pulled the man away to the end of the street where a police car was waiting for them.

Jungkook had remained in his spot, glued to the ground, still staring at Jimin. The silver-haired walked closer with a predatory smile. "What are you looking at, Bambi?" he asked in the lowest voice he could muster.

"Am I not supposed to look at people?" Jeon deadpanned, his expression turning cold.

For the first time Jimin was no longer sure if he had read this man correctly. Was he not gay? Or was it something about the insult of that pill bag just now?

He stepped back a few steps and turned off his seduction mode. "You just looked like you saw something you liked," he said nonchalantly and opened the door to his club basement. "Wonho!" The bumper looked up the stairs. "Please get that table up here and tell Channy to bring three cokes!"

When he turned back around, Jungkook had his face buried in his hands, sighing like he carried the weight of the world.

"What's wrong?" Jimin asked him, pushing his hands into the pockets of his slacks and playing with his lighter.

"Nothing," the officer grumbled and turned towards where his colleague had vanished. Officer Kim was coming back.

"I really don't think we should accept your offer, Mr. Park," the tall man said politely and was about to pull Jeon with him, but just in that moment Wonho with the table was washed out of the door by a wave of the club music.

"Look, I already got us a table, so why not stay?" Jimin tried to persuade them. He did not know why he was so adamant on making them stay, but he was someone who just did what they felt like. "If something's up, they'll call you anyway." He tilted his head at the two blue-clad frames and smiled invitingly.

A cloud of bass engulfed them for a second time. "Jimin?" Chanyeol asked from behind him, three bottles of coke in hand.

"Ah, thanks. Just put them on the table," Jimin instructed and gestured the officers to join him.

Kim sighed. "Fine. But this is the last time. And we'll only stayuntil the protocol is written."

Jimin smiled satisfied and took the bottle opener Chanyeol had brought with him in foresight, opening all three bottles with a soft whiz.

He handed them out and raised his. "To the righteous and courageous."

Officer Kim chuckled while Jeon just stared at his bottle blankly.

"To love in all its colors," the tall man said and did not only surprise Jimin but his colleague as well whose head had snapped up to look at his friend in disbelief.

"I'll drink to that," Jimin answered enthusiastically and took a sip from his bottle, smiling at Jeon's bewildered expression.

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