Chapter Text
Jungkook hated waiting.
The night was chilly, the windows of his sleek black car fogging slightly with his breath as he sat in the backseat, long legs spread, one arm propped lazily on the door, and the other holding a cigarette he hadn’t even lit. His patience was thinner than ice, and the fact that Jimin and Seokjin were taking their sweet time buying coffee of all things at the corner café near the university was only making his jaw twitch harder.
Namjoon sat in the passenger seat, scrolling through his phone with a calmness that only irritated Jungkook more, while Hoseok gripped the steering wheel, tapping along to the faint beat of the radio.
“We’ve been waiting,” Jungkook growled, voice sharp, deep, the kind that made even grown men freeze. “How long does it take to buy coffee?”
Namjoon hummed, not looking up. “You could’ve gone in with them.”
Jungkook snapped his head toward him, glare sharp. “Do I look like a man who waits in line?”
Hoseok chuckled under his breath but quickly stopped when Jungkook’s dark eyes flicked toward him in the rearview mirror. The car fell silent except for the faint hum of the city nightlife outside.
And then.
The backseat door suddenly swung open.
Before Jungkook could snarl about strangers daring to touch his car, someone practically threw themselves inside, slamming the door shut behind them. A boy—no, a young man, flushed and breathless, his blonde hair messy as if he’d been running a marathon, eyes wide like a startled deer.
“Drive! Please, just—just drive!” the stranger cried, voice cracking with desperation. His hands clutched at the seat in front of him as though the leather could protect him from whatever horror was chasing him. “He’s coming! Please, go! Don’t just sit there!”
The three men in the car froze.
Namjoon blinked, lowering his phone. Hoseok’s brows shot up to his hairline. And Jungkook… Jungkook tilted his head, cigarette still dangling between his fingers, his expression the picture of disbelief and annoyance.
The kid didn’t even look at them. Too busy glancing back at the street outside through the tinted glass, tears brimming in his doe-like eyes. His chest heaved as he begged again, “Please, just drive, I swear I’ll explain later! He’s crazy!”
And that was all it took for Hoseok, soft-hearted Hoseok, to slam his foot on the gas. The car lurched forward, speeding down the street.
“The fuck!” Jungkook’s voice dropped several octaves, dangerous and cold, eyes narrowing at the driver. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Hoseok winced. “He—he looked scared, Jungkook. Did you not see his face?”
Jungkook muttered another curse under his breath and leaned back, clenching his jaw so hard the muscle ticked. He finally turned his gaze on the stranger beside him.
And what a sight.
The kid was beautiful. No, unfairly beautiful. Wide, pouty lips trembling, long lashes damp with tears, his oversized college hoodie slipping off one shoulder to reveal smooth skin. He was practically glowing despite the panic etched across his features.
The kind of beauty Jungkook usually saw in paintings locked away in museums, not trembling beside him in the backseat of his bulletproof car.
“Yah! Are you 65?!” the boy burst out, glaring at Jungkook now as though he was the problem. “I told you to drive faster, he’ll catch me! And you, what are you staring at?”
Namjoon let out a strangled laugh, covering it with a cough. Hoseok’s shoulders shook as he tried not to snicker.
Jungkook, however, looked like he was one second away from strangling someone, possibly everyone in the car.
“Do you even know where you are?” Jungkook asked, voice soft but deadly, the kind of tone that sent shivers down hardened criminals’ spines.
The boy sniffled, still glaring. “Yeah, in a car. With people who apparently don’t understand urgency!”
Namjoon choked on his own spit, Hoseok nearly swerved from laughing too hard, and Jungkook… Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose.
Of all the cars on the street. Of all the seats in the world. This brat had climbed into his.
“Hyung,” Jungkook said slowly, turning to Namjoon, “remind me again why I tolerate you people?”
But before Namjoon could answer, the boy suddenly gasped and ducked low, peeking through the tinted glass again. “Oh my god, he’s still following, he’s in that car! Faster, faster!”
“Who’s following you?” Hoseok asked, curious.
“My—my stalker! He won’t leave me alone! He’s been waiting outside campus for days, it’s—ugh, it’s so creepy!” The boy hugged his knees to his chest now, curling up on the seat like a cat. “And I just—your car was there, I panicked, I thought it was a taxi, okay?!”
Jungkook’s jaw clenched. A taxi.
This brat mistook his multimillion-dollar mafia car, tinted windows, armored frame, illegal speed modifications, for a TAXI.
“Yah, kid,” Jungkook growled, finally leaning forward, his piercing eyes locking onto him. “Do we look like a taxi driver to you?”
The boy turned his head, blinking at him for the first time. And then, to Jungkook’s absolute horror, he looked him up and down. From the sharp cut of his jaw, to the ink sprawling across his arm, to the tailored black suit hugging his body like sin.
The boy tilted his head.
“…You could be,” he said innocently.
Namjoon lost it. Hoseok wheezed. And Jungkook swore he’d commit murder right there in the backseat if Jimin and Seokjin didn’t hurry back with those damn coffees.
Meanwhile, back to the street at the small café, Jimin and Seokjin were having the time of their lives.
The line had been long, but with their charm and Seokjin’s ability to glare at the barista until he blushed they finally secured five large iced coffees, whipped cream piled high. Mafia or not, priorities were priorities.
They stood near the counter, waiting for their drinks, chatting casually.
“I bet Jungkook's veins popping out of his forehead right now in the car,” Jimin smirked, sipping on the sample drink he had managed to steal. “You know how he gets when he has to wait.”
Seokjin snorted. “Oh, absolutely. He’s probably glaring holes into Hoseok just for breathing too loudly. Namjoon’s pretending not to notice, and poor Jungkook is one blink away from a coronary.”
Jimin laughed so hard he nearly spilled his cup. “I swear, if Jungkook could kill with looks, Hoseok would’ve been buried five times tonight.”
“Seven,” Seokjin corrected smugly.
Their drinks were finally called out, and they picked them up with satisfied smiles, walking out into the cool night air. The street was still buzzing with university students, couples, and late-night wanderers.
But the moment they stepped onto the sidewalk, both men froze.
“…Where the fuck is the car?” Jimin asked, staring at the empty space where the sleek black car had been parked not ten minutes ago.
Seokjin blinked once. Twice. Then whipped his head toward the line of bodyguards parked nearby in their own cars. Every single one of them looked just as confused.
“You have got to be kidding me.” Seokjin’s voice was flat with disbelief. “That brat actually left us. He ditched us?”
“Ditched the coffee buyers!” Jimin yelled, flailing his iced cup around. “We’re the ones bringing the coffee and he left us?!”
The bodyguards shifted nervously in their place, unsure if they were supposed to say something or keep pretending they hadn’t just watched their boss’ car speed away with half the crew still outside.
Seokjin cursed under his breath, pulling out his phone with the dramatic flair of a man betrayed. “Unbelievable. We slave away in line, protect his scary ass reputation by buying coffee, and he abandons us?”
“Ungrateful,” Jimin muttered, sipping angrily at his iced coffee. “He owes me three straws. I’m charging him for this.”
Seokjin rolled his eyes and pressed Namjoon’s contact, the phone pressed tightly to his ear. “Namjoon better answer before I drag Jungkook out by his ear and remind him who the real hyung is.”
Jimin crossed his arms, glaring at the empty parking spot like it had personally wronged him. “Watch him deny it. Watch him say he didn’t leave us. Classic Jungkook.”
And so, two mafia men stood on the sidewalk, iced coffees in hand, tempers flaring, convinced their terrifying mafia boss had simply abandoned them for no good reason, completely unaware of the blonde kid currently curled up in the backseat with their boss.
—
Jungkook’s jaw was aching from how tightly he was clenching it. His temples throbbed, his patience already worn thin after a long day of endless meetings, handling both mafia business and the demands of his multimillion-dollar company. All he wanted was silence, not chaos.
But instead, here he was, Hoseok gripping the steering wheel nervously, Namjoon sighing and a blonde brat of a boy curled up in the backseat, wiping his tears while glaring at Jungkook like he was the problem.
“Back to the mansion,” Jungkook muttered finally, his deep voice quiet but sharp enough to slice through the tense air. Hoseok didn’t hesitate, turning the car toward the Jeon estate.
Just then, Namjoon’s phone buzzed. Seokjin’s name lit up the screen. Namjoon sighed and accepted the call, only to wince immediately as a scream nearly shattered his eardrum.
“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!” Seokjin’s voice bellowed so loud it filled the whole car. Even Jungkook’s brows twitched.
“Hyung—” Namjoon began, but Seokjin was relentless.
“You LEFT us! We were buying coffee! We had the drinks! You abandoned us in the middle of the street like stray dogs!”
Jimin’s voice echoed faintly in the background, equally dramatic, “Ungrateful! Do you know how long the line was?!”
Namjoon cringed, pulling the phone slightly away from his ear. Hoseok was biting his lip to stop from laughing. Jungkook’s glare burned hotter by the second.
“They want us to pick them up,” Namjoon murmured, covering the mic.
“No,” Jungkook said flatly. His eyes were closed now, head leaning back against the seat. “Tell them to take the bodyguards’ car.”
Namjoon smirked faintly, relaying the message. The explosion on the other end nearly made him drop the phone. Seokjin screamed about betrayal, Jimin cursed about whipped cream, and the line went dead.
The car was silent again until the blonde finally spoke.
Taehyung turned his head slowly, blinking at Jungkook with disbelief. “Wait. Where are you taking me?” His voice was soft at first, then sharper. “Stop the car!”
Jungkook ignored him, eyes still closed.
“Hello? Did you not hear me?” Taehyung leaned forward a little, frowning. “Where are you taking me? This isn’t funny! Stop the car! STOP THE CAR RIGHT NOW!”
Hoseok’s knuckles tightened around the steering wheel, eyes flicking nervously to the rearview mirror. Namjoon stayed quiet, as if observing how long Jungkook’s patience could last.
“I said stop the—”
Suddenly Jungkook snapped. His hand shot out, fingers gripping Taehyung’s shoulder with iron strength as his other hand clamped over the boy’s mouth, silencing him in an instant. The blonde let out a muffled squeak, wide doe eyes staring up at him in shock.
Jungkook’s glare could have frozen fire. His voice was low, gravelly, the kind that promised death if ignored.
“Shut. Up. Or I’ll kill you.”
Taehyung’s body went rigid. His eyes watered instantly, tears spilling down his flushed cheeks as a tiny whimper escaped against Jungkook’s palm. The bratty defiance melted away, replaced with trembling fear.
For a moment, Jungkook simply stared at him, the golden hair messy from running, lashes clumped with tears, lips parted against his hand. The boy was terrified, fragile, absolutely beautiful. And for some insane reason, Jungkook thought he looked prettier like this, quiet and undone.
Slowly, he released him, leaning back into his seat with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes once more. His head throbbed with exhaustion.
Taehyung pulled his knees up to his chest, curling into himself, silent tears slipping down his face. His mind raced in panic.
‘What have I done? What did I just walk into? Is this worse than being caught by my stalker? Did I really get myself kidnapped by a scary stranger?’
The boy sniffled softly, burying his face into his sleeve, a small trembling fairy caught in the clutches of the scariest man alive.
And Jungkook, despite himself, thought he had never seen something so irritatingly, frustratingly pretty.