The maze Jungkook and his whole squad had fallen into affected them profoundly and retained them at a standstill, trapped at an impasse. They gained what they pined to for so long; a case that was correlated with Jin Mo. But that only instigated more scattershot, mangled pieces they had to interlock to originate the puzzle that would lead them at least somewhere.

Kim Taehyung. This name remained inscribed in his head like an abiding, vexatious itch he couldn’t reach to scrape it away. And of course it was accompanied by a tsunami of questions he couldn’t find the answers to. Who was he? Why did they try to kill him? Why couldn’t they find anything about him? How the hell could they find him? 

Thankfully, they made some progress with Jay’s homicide. They tracked the car that exited the parking lot from the CCTV around the area and discovered an angle where the killer’s face was visible. With his picture, although it took time, they succeeded in identifying him.

Yoon Jong Hoon. A relatively new drug dealer in Seoul, a gang leader, with surprisingly no criminal record. The intel they gathered also included his plans about getting into firearms trafficking. If the assumption that Jay was one of Jin Mo’s men was correct — which Jungkook strongly believed it was — it meant he was put next to Jong Hoon to extract information. The fact that Jong Hoon killed him only supported that speculation, and his attempt to also kill Kim Taehyung indicated that he worked with Jay. 

In other words, Jay was a snitch and Kim Taehyung assisted him; Jungkook was sure of these facts. 

Despite their exertions for the past two weeks to find Jong Hoon’s whereabouts and hunt him down, they struck in a deadlock again. They put him on the wanted list, and Jungkook knew it was just a matter of time before they obtained a clue about him, but he needed results fast. Catching him would assist him in getting to that Kim Taehyung, and maybe it would lead him to Jin Mo, too. 

Jungkook was more frustrated than ever. Having two languishing cases in his hands — one he could possibly get information soon, and one he pursued for years and no matter the corresponding cases, he couldn’t iron it out — was like a stranglehold, constricting his neck. It obstructed his breathing, as though his airways were being crushed shut by an iron fist, searing his lungs and leaving him helpless, grappling for a simple drag of air. 

And what always salved that unlivable feeling was to bring another form of burning in his chest that vitalized his entire existence. The alcohol’s burning.

 
Seated on a stool at his usual bar, he guzzled shots of soju one after the other, feeling the bitter drink creep within him in palliative ripples. It washed out all the acute, suffocating emotions until all that was left was a heat in his core and a dizzying mist in his head. 

The said head was currently laid on the counter, eyes gently closed, arms drooping among his bent legs — a stance he often assumed when he wanted to stonewall the rest of the world from him. Dregs and sherds of thoughts roiled in his mind, but he couldn’t claw at one, couldn’t unfold one and delve into it as they slipped through the cracks of his turbid brain. 

One hand wormed out and swam over the counter, seeking his shot glass. He got hold of it and tapped it against the wooden surface to notify the bartender to pour him another drink. He waited motionless for a spell, giving him enough time to complete his task, and he heaved himself to a straighter position to gulp down the shot.

His closed eyes twitched with the spasm of bafflement crossing his face since he felt no warmth sprawl through his insides as he held the shot glass tilted over his mouth. It was fucking empty. 

He whacked it down the counter without breaking it and unsealed his eyes. They zeroed in on the bartender, Derin, who stood in front of him, leaning against the counter, and he scarcely attained to choke back a glare of deadly gorge. 

“Don’t glare at me. I’m not giving you another drink.”

Given his remark, his attempt to suppress that glare wasn’t that successful, but he didn’t really care. “I’m not drunk. Just a little lightheaded. Give me one last drink.”

“No. I know this is your limit.”

“How do you know?” His vexation began to notch up, hardening his features and turning his stare into icicles that slashed through him. 

“You come here every other day, Jungkook. I’ve analyzed your drinking behavior. And this is your limit.”

His brain conjured a quibble and worked on wrenching it out of him, but a body bashing into him eradicated it, replacing it with a ranting grunt. He fumbled for support so he wouldn't topple over from his seat and darted his murderous gaze at the stranger once he steadied himself. “Yah! Are you fucking blind?”

“Watch your mouth, kid. It was an accident.”

He spoke with such disdain and pertness that had Jungkook seething, his muscles stiffening by the affront he received. The impulse to pounce on the older man was so heavy he exploded out of his seat to conduct it, but the security guard had his regard trained on him and lunged a second later, restraining him. 

“Let me beat his fucking ass!” Jungkook vociferated as he thrashed about against the guard’s grip and his effort to haul him out of the bar. 

The guard strained to accomplish his duty, bearing a couple of accidental strikes and elbow jabs along the way until he finally shoved him outside. His breath rushed in and out of his lungs as if he had just run a damn marathon. It was that much grueling to deal with an outraged Jungkook, and no matter how many times he did it before, he still couldn’t get used to it. 

“Yah. When will you learn? Why do you have to cause trouble every time?”

Jungkook rolled his shoulders back and flattened out his creased, disordered clothes. He didn’t talk right away, though the harshness behind his traits spoke volumes. “I didn’t do anything wrong. He bumped into me.”

“And you had to attack him like an animal?”

“Ugh, fuck off, Hae Dong,” he ground out the words with absolute exasperation, the growl of his voice carrying far and causing the guard to flinch. He swerved to his right to finally get the hell out of there and return to the calmness of his home where he could drink to excess, with no fuckers, as he thought, souring the one thing that kept him sane. 

His body banged against something — or more accurately someone — after he took just two wrathful steps. His hands came to grab the elbows of that someone on instinct as his shoulders flew high and curved inwards at the unexpected collision, a muffled curse puffing out of his mouth. “Is everyone fucking blind today? Watch where the hell you’re going.”

His head whipped up once the primary flurry of vexation toned down and provided him with the requisite time to appraise the situation, since his mouth worked faster than his brain, always at the ready to hurl whatever it conceived without filtering it first.

The creases of irritation adorning his traits smoothed out as his eyes tried to digest the gripping sight they faced. An internal, chaotic battle broke out about where they wanted to focus on, what to soak up, what to marvel at first. 

After an ephemeral, vertiginous conflict, the admiration embarked on the man’s rich sable orbs, with round contour and cute pointy inner edges. He had eyes that drilled holes deep enough to reach one’s soul. Deep enough to spellbind whoever was in the line of their fire and bulldoze out all the hidden thoughts and secrets. 

His long eyelashes were framed by a set of bold, beautifully shaped brows that added a mysterious look on his perfectly angular face. His ebony forelocks stood at the sides in mild curves, with the right dose of styling products that made them strike as natural and smooth. Inches lower from the high bridge of his nose were his strawberry, thin lips, the upper slightly longer and plumper than the lower, parted at that moment as though in surprise. 

He was a beauty in every visual aspect, a masterpiece that afflicted Jungkook in a way that extinguished all previous events from his mind, all the outrage, frustration, and self-deprecation. It also robbed him of the ability to structure his jumble of thoughts and, most importantly, to speak. 

The hypnosis he had fallen under wore off at a creep, allowing him to perceive something he couldn’t before by the woolliness obstructing his senses. In all that striking beauty there was a strange look — a look of alarm, fright even, as if his eyes were staring at someone they shouldn’t. It sparked greater interest within him, edging him into questioning him about it, but that look altered to a supercilious one in seconds after he individuated it. 

“You crashed into me.”

His full-throated voice, velvet like delicious melted chocolate with a depth equivalent to the unexplored areas of the underworld, clashed with his seraphic face, but only tightened the previously slack mantle of entrancement ringing Jungkook’s complete entity. That smoky voice gave him the notion of a charming knight, of a prince, willing to risk it all for you. 

Or of a cold-blooded killer. 

He clung to the last traces of his presence of mind, coercing his brain to sober up and produce a retort or at least display any glimmer of recognition of his blunt statement. He must have stayed mute for too long because the same guttural voice sounded again with such richness he struggled to register the essence of his words and instead fixed on the sensuous tones of it that were deeper than his mind could ever conceive. 

“And you’re still holding me.”

Getting tongue-tied — and especially for so damn long — was a first for Jungkook. It was as if he forgot how to speak, how to form sentences in his head and push them out of his mouth. Maybe the root cause was the slight dizziness waltzing around his head by the drinks he had consumed. But whatever the case, he felt vulnerable under that man’s stare, an emotion he hadn’t experienced in years. It detonated an unprecedented flutter in his chest, threaded with thrill and fear, delight and distaste. 

But when that vulnerability gained more and more mastery over him, he snapped intuitively, wrenching himself out of that blinding daze and restoring his lucidity piece by piece. 

His hands flew off him as though they burned and his legs moved on their own, lurching back in hopes that the distance between them would revive his uncaring, stony persona. 

The stranger launched a second cycle of voiceless scrutiny, frowning with crisp mystification. It traveled with unnerving meticulousness the sharp features of his refined face, strayed to his body that seemed rather bulky under the layers of clothes that unfortunately barricaded his view, and rolled up again at the same slow-paced manner until his eyes locked on him like magnets. 

Jungkook espied a subtle change in his stare as it raked over every bit of him, dispersing the confusion it embodied. Another scintillation of interest flamed mildly in his core, pulling the corner of his lips a half-inch upwards. That spark blazed brighter when the man met his gaze again and mounded fast-flowing expectations of what would ensue, building so high his heart pulsed a drop faster. 

The stranger sustained eye contact, his countenance shifting yet again to something Jungkook couldn’t grasp. He was a skilled detective, capable of picking up on the tiniest hints, but he swore that man’s face was indecipherable. Or he could just choose what to manifest and what to disguise like a well-trained deceiver. 

The termination of their stare in a far enough aloof way disillusioned him at once, and the dawning of the unnamed man's departure with a lazy pivot shredded all vestiges of expectancy he formerly felt. 

There was something about that stranger that called out for him, luring him closer, despite his brain that screamed at him to keep his distance. Like he hummed an imaginary lullaby that bewitched, exhilarated, and stripped him of his self-will.

He jolted forward unconsciously but got rooted to his spot without physically stopping him. “Wait.”

The man slowed to a halt, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat, and rotated to fix him with a disinterested look. 

A weird silence lasted for a couple of seconds, and mixed with the dull stare he received, it was all Jungkook needed to recover his dominance and assuredness. “What’s your name?”

The stranger tipped his head to the side, a moderate twist budding between his brows. “Why?”

A muddle of questions about that enigmatic man swirled in his mind, and his denial to give him an answer to the most basic one disappointed him a notch, though he defined that feeling as annoyance. “Are you from around here?” 

A subdued noise of taunt thrust out of his mouth as his eyes seesawed within their sockets, matching the slight swing of his head. “Why?” 

His guarded, evasive demeanor definitely vexed him this time to the point his rationality walked out on him and his brain stood back stubbornly, letting his mouth do its thing. “Are you g—are you busy right now?” He believed his rapid attempt to revoke his first thoughtless inquiry didn’t save much, and the unexpected twinkle of amusement enlivening the stranger’s once frigid eyes attested to it. 

“Were you about to ask me if I’m gay?” His brows set in two high bows of light astonishment, and the grim line of his lips welcomed the sudden smirk that painted over it. 

“Well,” he faltered, eyes sailing away for a brief punt and dropping anchor on him again. “It depends on your answer.” 

“If I say yes?” 

“Then yes, I was about to ask if you’re gay.” 

The unnamed man huffed a sound close to a chuckle at the predicted response, but it was too quiet for Jungkook to acknowledge it. “And now that you found out the answer?”

A twitch of surprise crossed Jungkook's face, but fizzled into enthusiasm after a moment’s pause. “So the answer is yes?”

His eagerness for a clear answer was honestly cute and stirred a distinct askew smile from him that was enough of a validation, though he opted to assuage his curiosity verbally. “Yes. And now?”

“Now... you should answer my next question.” Jungkook's voice carried with it a low timbre, emotive and demanding, that gave no room for debate. 

“Which is?”

“Do you have something to do right now?”

“Why?” 

“Do you always answer questions with questions?” 

“Do you always strike conversations with strangers and ask them such personal questions right from the start?”

Although such sneering counterattack would usually tick him off, Jungkook found himself even more intrigued and his itch to overrule their conversation upsizing. In order to do that, he knew he had to take a step back and go with his flow. “I just wanted to make a proposal. You don’t have to be so defiant.”

“And if I don’t want to hear that proposal?”

“Then I won’t say it.”

The unidentified man frowned slightly. From what he could appreciate until now, he seemed to have a dynamic figure that wouldn’t relent if he didn’t gain what he sought. And his submittal was the last thing he expected, though it was also what induced his next remark and ripped it out of him before he could confine it. “Let’s hear it.”

An invigorated sparkle flared up Jungkook's gaze and injected something cunning into it, his lips twitching by the smirk he grappled to bite back. 

The shift in his expression didn’t pass unnoticed by the stranger, and he wouldn’t lie; it roiled him, to say the least. Because right there he understood he was played. He baited him to indirectly compel him to ask about that proposal. And he fell for it like a fucking amateur. 

“You seem angry,” Jungkook quipped, his tone lightsome, dangling on the edge of derision. 

The tautness cloaking his features mellowed then. Not only he fell into his trap, but also let his feelings show on his face. That behavior was unlike him, and he couldn’t allow himself to slip again. So he wore a confident expression and pasted a coy smile on his lips. “No, don’t worry. I’m just curious about your proposal.”

“Yeah?” 

The unidentified man hummed and accompanied the saccharine sound with a few nods. 

“I was just wondering...” He began to approach him slowly and tantalizingly, noting how the man matched his steps, retreating. “If you want to spend some time together.” 

His brows darted upwards, his coy smile growing to a sly one. There was an ablaze energy wafting in the enveloping air, and their ceaseless, fierce eye contact only fueled it. “What does spending some time together mean to you?” 

Jungkook’s smirk intensified, taking in his sultry gaze. He knew that man was aware of the insinuations lacing his words, but his simpering innocence was rather cute and rousing. Their coordinated steps broke as he sped up his gait to sneak a swift hand around his head to protect it from the oncoming crash against the wall while he pinned the other next to his face. 

His instinctive, caring action even caught himself off guard, so he disregarded the look of surprise dancing around the handsome man’s characteristics. “Well, with you, it means something hot. Something that will... remain engraved in your memory.”

The stranger’s attention unwittingly steered towards the robust arm that was laid on his left shoulder and the delicate palm cradling the back of his head. It caused his stomach to lurch, spiral, and snarl up into a tight ball. He near lost his dominance and artfulness at the bizarre, newfound feeling, and the alcohol coursing through his bloodstream didn’t help in the slightest. Despite whatever tumult roared inside him, he gathered himself and replayed the man’s statement in his head, searching for a witty reply. “You’re that sure about yourself, huh?”

“You can verify it if you want,” Jungkook said with a whispering lure, his smirk unyielding. He was so close he could smell the alcohol radiating from him, messily melded with a rose-scented waft that seeped through his senses, only to inebriate them more.

Jungkook fused their bodies with light pressure, testing the waters, and his hand skimmed the slope of his neck, gliding down his broad shoulder and arm before retracing its journey at the same unhurried rhythm. Seeing no sign of protest or discomfort, he shifted as though fixing his posture, making their crotches rub together. “Are you a bottom?”

God, it was hot. Tempting. Stimulating. That man knew what he was doing, how to come on to him without being forceful, overeager, hasty. He took it stepwise, carefully, creeping up the excitation until his brain pleaded for more. But he wasn’t the type to plead. He craned forward, their cheeks brushing as he positioned his mouth to his ear. “A very powerful one,” he purred in a throaty undertone, lips scraping his skin and breath ghosting across it in hot, slow puffs as he spoke. 

“Shit,” rolled off Jungkook's tongue in a muffled, quivery murmur, his fingers gouging into the wall by the electricity sparking throughout his nerves. It cartwheeled across his limbs and clustered around his groin, effectuating a searing heat that had his erection kicking in arousal. His other arm pressed against the wall by the forearm, strong and secure, like he needed the extra brace to stabilize himself. “What’s your name?” 

“Again with my name?” he asked with a snicker of faint frustration. His head rested against the cold wall, almost missing the warm palm that held it previously. “I don’t think the introductions are necessary.” 

“Well, won’t you need to know my name to have something to scream, hmm?”

“Oh?” A chock-full of amusement grin burst onto his face with the stifled chuckle that jumped out of him. “You think you’re so good you can make me scream?” His eyes crinkled at the edges as he laughed blatantly this time, derisive and haughty. 

Although the intent of his smile was to mock him, it was so arresting Jungkook was forced to discard the mockery and just wonder at its splendor. It altered his whole appearance so effortlessly. And the most admirable was that secretive pair of eyes that lit up, exuding a warmth strong enough to perforate any defense, and a solace that could remedy a ravaged heart. 

It was challenging to tear his concentration away from such riveting sight, though the years of experience in limiting his emotions and reigning over them rendered great assistance. “Why don’t we find out?” His fingers crawled up his neck to cup his cheek, leaning so close their lips touched just barely. 

Jungkook felt a hand wrap delicately around his neck that slipped over his collarbones and landed on his chest. His thick jacket prevented him from feeling that dragging touch in depth, but the pressure on his chest pushing him back was sorely palpable. With no time to expostulate, the stranger ducked out of his hold and stood by his side. 

“No, thank you. You seem too cocky for my liking.” He shrugged a contemptuous shoulder in a kittenish manner that drove Jungkook’s jaw to go slack in sheer disbelief. It was rather entertaining to watch the mild shock and bewilderment sprawl on his face as if he drew on a nonexistent mask. It was the least he could do in retaliation after how that man played him, and he basked in it to the bone. 

With that lift of his shoulder, of course, came his departure as well, but the brashness that swelled up his chest didn’t last long. 

“Maybe you’re just scared you can’t handle me.” Jungkook's words froze him in his tracks as he had predicted, bringing a gratified, smug smile to his lips. “You want to dominate in everything, but you’re struggling to dominate me. Am I wrong?”

He twisted halfway, enough to flash him a condescending glare. “I would say it’s too much work and not worth my time, but sure, baby boy, whatever you say.”

The challenge enwrapping his disdainfully spoken remark jolted Jungkook out of his standstill and spurred him to seize his wrist. “Alright, sorry. I just don’t understand what went wrong. I promise to make you feel good.” His voice sank to a delectable whisper as his arm slithered over his belly. “Better than you’ve ever felt.”

“You’re raising my expectations pretty high with your words. Are you sure you can meet them?”

“I’m a man of my word, baby.” His lips grazed over the side of his neck in a feathery stroke, the sleek surface tempting him to wash it over with wet kisses. Despite his long coat and his small backpack disturbing him a mite, he could vividly feel his bulgy ass squeezed against his throbbing length, and he firmed up his grip, clutching him harder to his body. “Fuck, am I so horny or your ass is just so fucking sexy?”

His breath got caught in his lungs, trapped for good and long forgotten like his self-restraint, at the sensation of his surprisingly big cock wedged between his asscheeks. “Why don’t we find out?” 

“Really?” His voice came across with vibrant eagerness, which he thankfully perceived and constrained it when he spoke again. “You changed your mind?” 

“No, baby.” The stranger detected a few passersby shooting them inquiring looks and took hold of his hand, leading him back to the narrow alley they were before. He pushed him onto the wall this time, caging him between his arms, his eyes blazing with raciness and a storm of seducement. “I wanted to get fucked by you since the moment I laid my eyes on you. Just wanted to see how much you wanted to fuck me. And, of course, tease you a bit.”

Fuck, every word that stranger said managed to titillate Jungkook more and more, making him feel giddy with lust. He was tortured by a scalding thirst to let his hands cruise all around his body, fondle every inch and bombard it with kisses. He truly couldn’t wait. “Hmm, you could have just asked, you know. The answer was and is the same. I want to fuck you so bad.” He surrendered under the flaming temptation and smoothed his hands up and down his back, pausing each time for a stretch when they reached his waist to squeeze it and rub their bodies together at the same time. 

“My ass did all the tricks, huh?” he asked with an intentionally deeper voice, though he couldn’t conceal the gentle teasing coating it. 

“Your angelic, gorgeous face as well, baby. It’s what I saw first, anyway.” 

The compliment hardened the muscles in his face enough to burn off his smirk and diminish the glint of dominance in his gaze. “You think I’m gorgeous?” 

Noticing the stiffness in his posture and countenance, Jungkook resolved to ease it with insouciant jest. “Is that really a question I need to answer? Don’t you have mirrors in your house?” 

He regained the twinkle in his eyes at the light playfulness in his tone, although a grain of surprise remained. “You sure you’re not just drunk?” 

Jungkook snorted, breaking into a wider smirk. “Drunk or not, you’re still gorgeous. And I can’t wait to have a taste of you.” His mouth hovered above his lips, scarcely caressing them. “Are you too drunk maybe?” 

The unnamed man’s eyes fluttered closed at the velvety touch of his irresistible lips, and he truly did his utmost to hold back for a little longer, to rally all of his vestigial inner strength to tantalize him a tad more, to the point where he would explode and beg for him. But fuck, he seemed to lose any fraction of composure first. 

On the other hand, if he had the said composure he once believed he had, if he latched onto even a scrap of it, he wouldn’t be mired in this chaotic mess.

“Drunk or not, I still want you to make me a mess with your cock.” Desperate now, with all logic shunted aside to make room for his dire avidity and constraints muzzled, he fastened his fingers around his wrist and dragged him to the nearest motel that was only two minutes away. 

───⭒───༺🌑༻───⭒───

And they finally meet! This encounter is the most important for the plot and I put so, so much effort to write it. I hope you felt the sexual tension between them💜