Chapter Text
Jimin arrived already talking. Pushing the door open with his shoulder, phone tucked between his ear and cheek.
“No, Minsoo, I told you, that crack isn’t structural, it just looks scary.”
He muttered, already slipping inside, sliding off the tote bag from his shoulder to Jeongukk's black leather couch.
“If you touch it, you’ll make it worse. Just wait till I come....”
He stopped mid-step.
His words cutting short as he found Jeongukk staring at him.
Arms folded, eyebrows knitted. As if judging his existence.
Not moving. Not doing anything in particular.
Just… there.
Jimin blinked once, then turned slightly away, lowering his voice.
“I’ll call you later, okay? Don’t do anything stupid.”
Jimin cut the call, putting his phone in his slacks back pocket. While staring at Jeongukk. Whose gaze was fixed on him.
“Morning, Mr. Jeon.”
There was no response. Just that stare.
"Do you ever not stand like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like a statue with unresolved issues.”
A pause.
“You’re late. Again."
Jimin exhaled, already moving past him.
“I’m not late. You’re just early in your judgment."
Jimin exhaled, already used to it. He moved to set up his tools. While Jeongukk followed him with his eyes.
“What?”
“Minsoo,” Jeongukk finally spoke, the name rolling off his tongue slow, unfamiliar.
“Who is it."
Not a question. A demand.
Jimin was perplexed at sudden intrusive question, but didn’t turn to look at him.
“A person.”
Jeongukk's jaw ticked. “I figured that much.”
Silence stretched, thin and tense. Jimin sighed, glancing over his shoulder. “A friend.”
Another pause.
Jungkook leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing just a fraction. Not loud, not obvious, but the shift was there. Subtle.
Still watching, thinking.
Still… not liking it.
_________________________________________________________
Routine settled in quickly. Jimin in his usual spot, sleeves rolled, tools laid out, solution made, color palette out.The clock had just crossed three when Jeongukk finally spoke, while walking down the stairs. Sharply dressed in his expensive suit.
“You never eat lunch.”
Jimin looked up, brush moving in careful strokes. “I do.”
“Not here.” Jungkook’s voice was flat, observant. Like he’d been keeping count.
"This... makes me forget everything. "
That earned him a quiet scoff. Not loud, enough to show disapproval. Jeongukk reached for his phone without another word.
“What are you...”
“Ordering.”
“I didn’t ask...”
“You don’t have to.”
Silence settled again, but it felt different. Less distant. Jimin’s hands slowed, eyes flicking up once to look at him.
Jeongukk didn’t notice. Or pretended not to.
“It’ll be here in twenty.”
Jimin exhaled softly. "You didn’t have to.”
“I know.”
That shut him up.
Jeongukk stood for a moment, straightening his sleeves.
“Finish your work.”
Jimin frowned slightly. “I always do.”
“I won’t be here.”
That made him look up properly this time. “Oh.”
“Work?”
Jungkook nodded. “Don’t wait.”
Jimin lowered his head, focusing back on work. Muttering soft, silent.
'As if, i would.'
Still, Jimin found himself watching Jeongukk walk out. Quiet steps, no unnecessary sound, no goodbye.
Just gone.
The room feeling odd and empty after.
_________________________________________________________
The club was loud, enough to drown men. But not him.
Jeongukk sat in the center of it all, cigarette burning slow between his fingers, half filled glass of expensive liquor. Smoke gathering, curling, disappearing.
He was discussing routes for next gunrunner. Shipments date, time. Lies disguised as confidence.
He absorbed it all without looking like he’s listening.
Across from him, the old man kept talking.
The kind of man who mistakes proximity to power for ownership of it.
Jeongukk lets him.
Not because he respects him, but because his father once did.
And that is the only reason this meeting exists at all.
“We’ve been loyal for years.” the man said, leaning forward, smile stretching thin. “I think that should count for something.”
It does. That’s why Jeongukk was still there.
“And if we close this deal.” the man continued. Voice dipping, conspiratorial now, “I make sure you’re taken care of.”
There it is.
Jungkook didn’t move. Didn’t react.
But something behind his stillness shifted.
Because he has heard this before. Different cities. Different men. Same offer.
A flick of fingers. And Jeongukk sees it happen, before it happens.
Two figures approaching him.
One, a woman. Beautiful in a practiced way. She reached for his glass like she has done this a hundred times before, pouring without asking.
The other...
Jeongukk's gaze drifted to the boy.
Petite. Thin. Not older than 19. Someone who shouldn't be under neon lights and heavy bass.
There was hesitation in his steps. Barely, but enough.
Enough for Jeongukk to notice.
Enough to irritate him.
Because it meant he was pushed into this.
The boy closed the distance too quickly after that, like correcting himself. Fingers brushing Jeongukk's arm.
Light and careful.
Jeongukk didn’t react. Outwardly.
But inside, Something grinding.
He has been here before. Sat through it. Ignored it. Let it pass because it wasn’t worth the disruption.
Touch of people he didn’t ask for. Offers he never accepted.
It was always the same. Always empty.
Jeongukk's eyes lowered to where the boy’s fingers were resting lightly against his sleeve.
Then, he closed his eyes.
Just for a second.
And in that second, It’s not this.
It’s Jimin.
Imagining his clay-stained hands, unapologetic as they tug at Jeongukk's wrist. Warm and real. Too unaware of the lines everyone else calculates before crossing.
Jeongukk's exhaled. Slow.
And when his eyes open again, there was immediate shift.
His hand moved fast enough to make the woman flinch when the glass knocked out of her grip, liquor spilling across the table.
The boy startled. Jeongukk's fingers wrapped around his wrist.
“Move.”
Low. Quiet.
The boy froze for half a second, then pulled back instantly, like he has been burned.
Jeongukk letting go just as quickly. Like even that brief contact was already too much.
The old man laughing nervously. “It’s just a gesture, no need to....”
The gun appeared. Pressing straight toward the man’s forehead.
Jeongukk leaned forward slightly.
“You don’t learn."
“Jeongukk....th..this..”
“Third time.”
A beat.
Jeongukk tilted his head, eyes locking on him.
“I let it pass the first two, because it wasn’t worth it."
His grip on the gun tightening just enough to be seen.
“But you keep offering me things I didn’t ask for.”
The safety clicks off.
The man’s breath stutters. “It’s respect.. hospitality—”
“It’s assumption.”
Jeongukk's voice dropping.
“That I’ll take anything you put in front of me.”
His jaw tightens, just slightly.
Because the truth sitting under all of this. Unspoken, unwanted. Which is more dangerous than the gun in his hand.
He doesn’t want anything.
He wanted ---
Jeongukk's expression hardens. Cutting the thought off before it fully forms.
“The deal’s off.”
The words landed like a verdict. Chairs shifting. Eyes locking.
Even Hajun, standing off to the side, straightened. His attention sharpening. Observing men around.
Because this reaction, didn't seem like it was just about business.
The old man shaked his head frantically. “You’re overreacting. Your father would never...”
“My father tolerated you. I won't.”
The gun lowered as dismissal.
"The deal is over."
"You're gonna regret this Jeon."
The man dared. Desperate, pointless attempt to prove that his age bought him dominance over Jeongukk.
Who turned his head back, as if considering.
Then...
A single shot split the air. Directly to the head.
Sharp. Clean. Final.
The sound rang for a second too long before silence crashed back in.
Heavier than before.
The man dropped mid-sentence.
His minions rushing, panicked. Gun out.
But Hajun was quicker, knocking their gun down and obligating them to be on their knees.
Jeongukk just watched, blood seeping out of the dead body. A small splatter over his shirt and neck.
The room stayed suspended around him as he walked away. Unaffected by the commotion.
His hand flexing once at his side, trying to shake something off.
And it was not the deal. Not the man.
It was that brief, wrong touch. Colliding with something that felt right.
Something he didn’t choose. Didn’t ask for.
But now, he can’t seem to ignore.
__________________________________________________________
The penthouse was supposed to be empty. That’s what Jeongukk expected as he stepped out of the elevator, late evening settling into something quieter, colder. His thoughts were already unsettled, anger burried and contained.
Killing that old man, was not tonight's plan, but he had to. He left him no option. His phone hasn't stopped ringing for a while now. His father calling, persistent.
Unknown filth creeping all over Jeongukk's body for some reason.
Upon entering, he shrugged his coat off his shoulder... but soon stopped.
Because the lights were on.
Living room, still occupied.
His gaze sharpened instantly.
Then....
“Mr. Jeon?”
Jimin stepped into his view.
Jungkook went still. Then looked at the clock hanging on the wall. It was almost midnight, and Jimin wasn’t supposed to be here.
No one was.
“I... uh…” Jimin started.
A little breathless, eyes casted on the floor, like he has been waiting a while.
“I wanted to tell you before I left.”
He looked up at Jeongukk, and everything changed.
“What... what happened to you?”
The question came out thin.
Because Jeongukk's shirt was stained. Dark, uneven trail of blood smeared across the fabric, his sleeve and collar.
Jimin’s face drained.
“Mr. Jeon...”
And then he was moving.
Fast. Close.
Hands on him before Jeongukk could react.
Gripping his arm, his shoulder, sliding to his side, pressing lightly like he was afraid to hurt him.
“Are you hurt? Where... where are you hurt?” His voice shook.
“Tell me, did someone... did you get...”
“I’m fine.”
Jimin didn’t stop.
“This is not fine, you’re covered in...”
“I said I’m fine.”
Jeongukk caught his wrist mid-motion.
Firm. Grounding.
Jimin froze, breath uneven, eyes searching his face like he could force the truth out of him.
“Then whose blood is this?” he asked, softer now.
Jeongukk held his gaze for a second, then looked away.
“Someone got caught in a situation,” he said evenly. “I stepped in.”
Jimin blinked. “You...”
“They’re fine.”
Lie. It slipped out smoothly.
Jimin exhaled.
Shoulders dropping as relief softened every sharp edge of his panic.
“Oh. Thank God…”
A small, shaky breath left him. A nervous smile.
“You scared me.”
And Jeongukk felt it again.
That unfamiliar pull under his ribs, but more sharp and clear.
Jeongukk cleared his throat. Stepping back first.
Putting distance.
“Why are you still here?”
Jimin's eyes got bigger at the realisations. Eyes again avoiding Jeongukk.
“I finished the vase.”
It was quiet. Too quiet for a beat.
Then Jeongukk's gaze flickered toward, where the vase was kept. Then back to Jimin.
“It is restored.” Jimin added, softer now.
“I stayed because I wanted you to see it before I go.”
Before I go.
There it was.
The ending, placed gently between them.
Jeongukk's jaw tightened.
Of course it was done. That was the point of breaking it, wasn’t it?
A reason.
A controlled, acceptable reason to have Jimin here. To see...things.
And now, it was done.
“I tried to keep it as close to the original as possible."
Jimin continued, a faint, hopeful smile forming.
“It won’t look broken unless you know where to look.”
Jeongukk stared at him.
At that smile.
At the quiet pride in his voice.
Something in him resisted. Hard.
“Show me.”
The words came out low.
Jimin nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
He turned, leading the way, deeper towards the living room.
Jeongukk followed.
Slower. Measured.
His gaze didn’t go to the vase immediately.
It stayed on Jimin. On the way he moved comfortably in a space that was never meant to hold anyone.
On the way he still belonged here. Even now.
They stopped, and the vase stood where it had been.
Whole, seamless and beautiful.
Every fracture erased. Every break hidden, like it had never happened.
“You did well.” Jeongukk said quietly.
Jimin turned to him, surprised.
The praise was rare.
A small smile returned, softer this time. “I’m glad you think so.”
Silence settled again.
But it wasn’t the same silence as before. It felt… ending.
Jimin shifted slightly, hands coming together in front of him.
“I’ll send the final paperwork tomorrow." he said. Professional. Careful.
“Everything’s complete now.”
Complete.
Jeongukk's expression didn’t change, but something underneath it did. Because that wasn’t entirely true.
Yet he said nothing. And that silence answered everything.
Jimin nodded once, like he expected it.
“Take care, Mr. Jeon.”
He walked past him, picking his bag.
Jeongukk didn’t move. Didn’t turn. Didn’t stop him.
The door opened and closed.
And the penthouse fell back into silence.
Real silence, this time.
Jeongukk stood there for a long moment. Then, slowly, his gaze shifted back to the vase.
Perfect. Untouched.
Like it had never been broken.
But he knew exactly where the cracks had been.
He had put them there himself.
Jimin had fixed it. Piece by piece, with soft touch, delicate hand and calm breathing. Every crack disappeared.
And now...
there was nothing left to break