Chapter Text
He wasn’t much, just another homeless stray in a city full of them, but Park Jimin always dreamed of more. The dreams kept him hungry, the dreams kept him alive, kept him running when he was exhausted, kept him awake when he was worn down but couldn't rest.
Winters in New York were hardest, though—with their frigid, long nights and cops telling him to move along, and warming shelters that were too full and too dangerous for a little cat like him. He’d almost died more than once, and it wasn’t until he was old enough to fully shift that the cold became something bearable.
Falling in with a man like Soowon had been easy—the promise of a roof and regular pay was too good to pass up, and at first things were simple: pick-pocketing, shoplifting, and occasionally causing distractions so one of the other, older thieves could take care of a bigger job. But slowly things became more dangerous, the jobs more challenging. Every success Jimin had was met with another task, each one harder than the last. The payoff was always good, though, and Soowon was fair with cutting the profit… until he wasn’t.
Jimin noticed, of course, he did. He might be quiet and shy, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew he was getting less than he should have, but he kept his head down because his options were limited; near zero, really. He was just a homeless boy turned young man with a secret to keep and no one to turn to. At least Soowon kept a roof over his head and his hands to himself, something Jimin knew a lot of bosses didn’t.
Years passed, and Soowon grew in influence and wealth, gaining infamy among the small-time criminals who were his peers. Jimin was his secret weapon, kept hidden and safe from the world at large; used to procure more wealth and more secrets and thus more power.
But unless it is tempered, power begets greed, and greed begets foolishness, and fools often find themselves in places angels fear to tread.
・♛・
The halls of Euphoria Tower are dark and silent as Park Jimin prowls.
The quiet is heavy, oppressive, not so much a whisper of wind nor the sounds of the city outside to break it as he moves down a long corridor, counting the doors as he goes.
One…
Two…
Three…
Fourth door, locked, as expected.
Locks mean little to Park Jimin.
He slips inside the room a moment later, everything half-lit, the shadows dark, the carpet beneath his feet thick and soft.
He allows himself one brief, indulgent moment to imagine what it would be like to live in such luxury, then it’s back to work.
He’s on a time limit after all, the longer he lingers in the Tower, the greater the risk becomes.
This is the most high-risk job he’s ever been given, and the danger doesn’t end once he’s back on the city street, because the owner of the Tower is notorious, powerful, dangerous, and terribly possessive of what is his.
Jimin needs to get in, get out, and lay low for a long time after tonight.
The safe is a challenge, high-end and well made with a dozen magical guards and fall-backs, but Jimin is patient and good at what he does. He knows exactly how long he has before the owner returns and he is comfortably within his window of opportunity as he makes every second of it count.
There is no feeling of satisfaction once he’s in, no triumphant smile—he does what he does because he has to, not because he wants to—not for Soowon, anyway.
He pockets the documents he needs and carefully closes and re-arms the safe, making sure the office appears completely untouched before he’s slipping back out into the hallway, counting doors on his way to the exit.
One…
Two…
Three…
“Good evening, little thief.”
Park Jimin freezes.
He isn’t alone.
There in the shadows of the living room, nothing more than a dark silhouette against the sparkling city lights, stands the owner of Euphoria Tower.
“You have something of mine,” the man says, tone casual—friendly like they are discussing the weather, “I would like it back.”
Jimin swallows and reaches slowly for the documents, he knows he’s lost, he knows he’s dead, he knows Jeon Jeongguk is not forgiving.
He pulls them out and they fall to the floor with barely a whisper.
He waits for his fate and wishes he’d been able to say no to this job, but Park Jimin hasn’t been given choices in life, and he supposes it’s fitting that it will end before he ever gets a single one.
The shadows are growing darker, seemingly rolling off of Jeongguk as he approaches, and with them comes the fear, the crushing weight of being in the presence of a man some say is a demon, while others claim is the devil himself.
“King, king, king. Kneel, kneel, kneel. Fear, fear, fear.”
Slowly the weight of it pushes at Jimin until he is on his knees, shaking uncontrollably, tears rising unbidden in his eyes. He doesn’t want to die, not tonight, not like this…
Jeon Jeongguk looms before him, hands in his pockets, shirt sleeves cuffed, buttons half undone and a smirk on his handsome face as he nudges the paperwork aside with one foot and stares down at Jimin.
“Look at you,” he says and his voice is a distant storm, the surf on the shores of some vast midnight ocean, “not even trying to fight.”
Jimin bows his head as he shakes, and his tears spill down his cheeks a moment later.
He doesn’t want to die.
But he knows, as he looks back up into the dark, emotionless gaze of Jeon Jeongguk, that he doesn’t get to decide his fate.
The King of New York does.
・♛・
Abel Korzeniowski- Why Is This Happening?
Jeon Jeongguk leans down, wanting a closer look at this little thing he found creeping through his halls.
No one has ever made it inside before, and that had been reason enough for Jeongguk to watch, waiting in the shadows to see what this pretty little trespasser did next. He was good, that much was obvious from the way no locked door or safe lasted long against him, and to reward him, Jeongguk let him take what he came for, let him taste success and the promise of freedom, and just when hope had started to bloom in that rapidly beating heart, he had made his move.
“Light,” he murmurs, and a nearby lamp flickers on, casting soft golden luminance over the scene before him.
A little platinum blond thing, head bowed, but not enough to hide his full lips and plush cheeks and sharp jaw. His downcast gaze glittering with tears, his small hands shaking slightly.
Admirable really, most people would be curled up on the floor sobbing and begging by now.
“Let me look at you,” he says, tsking when the other doesn’t move. He reaches down and grabs the thief’s chin in a firm grip, tilting his face up so he can take in all of him.
That’s when he sees them, rounded and nearly hidden by his hair, two silver-white ears lying flat in fear.
“Ah,” Jeongguk says, head tilted to the side as he stares, “is tonight my lucky night?” He leans down as he asks, gaze fixed on the thief, “Was someone stupid enough to send treasure right into the dragon’s den?”
Teary eyes stare up at him, lower lip trembling, and the beast inside of him stirs, rumbling to life as it looks at this little diamond that has fallen directly into their hands. Jeongguk likes rare things, pretty things, precious things, and the young man on his knees before him is all three.
“Typically I am not lenient to trespassers,” he says as he releases his grip on the thief’s chin, “but I think I might make an exception for you… Though of course there will be… stipulations.” He chuckles, because it’s been a very, very long time since he’s had any fun.
“But first, let’s find out who sent you, hm?”
The fear grows stronger, the shadows deeper, and a moment later Jimin whispers a name, and Jeongguk knows.
He makes a call and within a few minutes, has every relevant piece of information there is about Park Soowon and his small-time crime enterprise.
Park Jimin sits on a chair on the other side of Jeongguk’s desk, head bowed, hands clasped, completely silent and unmoving, with his eyes downcast and his cat ears turned out flat to the sides. He’s perfectly still in that way a predator can be, but with him, it feels more like he’s prey.
Though everyone in this city is prey to a man like Jeongguk.
He makes another call.
“Good evening, Park Soowon,” He says into the line.
Jimin finally looks up, eyes wide.
Jeongguk smiles as he leans back and meets that pretty, frightened gaze, “I’ve had such an interesting night, Soowon. Who would have thought I’d find an unexpected guest creeping through my halls?”
“Who is this? Why the hell are you calling me?”
“Oh, Soowon, I would advise against speaking to me like that. You know very well who this is, but what you don’t know is that I am sitting in my office face-to-face with the thief you sent to steal from me tonight.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t send anyone after you.”
“Oh, so the name Jimin doesn’t ring any bells? Think carefully, I am not a fan of liars.”
“Nope, go ahead and do whatever you want with him.”
Jimin flinches, almost imperceptibly, but Jeongguk still sees it.
He knows all about men like Soowon, men who are all endless greed and no real ambition. They use others and only work with those they think they can manipulate. He can see the signs of neglect on Jimin, the way he has never once asked for what he deserves is written into the very way he holds himself, the downturn of his lips, the distant sadness in his eyes.
Jeongguk comes to a decision.
“The funny thing is, Park Soowon, is that when I looked you up, there’s not a single thing to indicate to me that you are worth my time, and yet here I am, wasting it on you. Tell me, did you really think you were going to get away with this? Or did someone convince you they were a bigger threat than I was, that they could hurt you more than I can, that they have more power in this city than I do? They were lying to you, Park Soowon, but I. Never. Lie.”
He leans forward, gaze still locked with Jimin’s, “This is what is going to happen. I am going to keep your little thief nice and safe with me, since you can’t be trusted to take care of something so valuable, and you are going to make sure I never, ever hear your name again. This city is no longer safe for you or your people, Park Soowon, and there is no one here who can make it safe again. Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying.”
He can hear ragged breathing on the other end of the line, “How… How long?”
“Twenty-four hours,” Jeongguk replies evenly, “and the clock is already ticking, best not to waste time.”
He ends the call and carefully sets his phone on the desk before returning the entirety of his attention to Jimin, “Now that that is dealt with, little thing, what am I going to do about you?”
He cocks his head to the side and lets his gaze travel slowly down the hybrid's trembling body, from the top of his platinum blond head to the tips of his shoes digging into the carpet beneath him. He’s pretty, might even be gorgeous under the cheap clothes and stench of fear. Jeongguk thinks about all the pretty things in his life and how lately he’s been bored with all of them.
“Typically, anyone who tries to steal from me dies, Park Jimin, and I have not made it to the position I am in this city by being lenient, but you are by far the most accomplished and… exotic of those who have crossed me, and as such, I’m going to offer you an ultimatum. Let me keep you.”
He feels the beast in him rumbling awake, its hunger endless as it peers at the little predator-turned-prey.
“Let me keep you, and I’ll show you a world you’ve only dreamed of.”
・♛・
Jimin knows he’s unlucky.
It had hurt, but he's not surprised Soowon threw him under the bus. There was no love lost between them, and no one argues with a man like Jeongguk. Jimin had been a tool and nothing else, and now he’s not even that—he’s a prize, a pet, and plaything for someone Soowon said was the most dangerous and cruel man in the city.
The sun is just starting to rise, the sky the color of fresh bruises, and the buildings of Billionaire Row stand like shadowed monoliths against the encroaching morning. Below him, the lights that line the paths of Central Park glitter, all fake diamonds and shattered glass, and this far up, he can pretend the city below isn’t the same one that chewed him up and spit him out.
“Let me keep you.”
What does being kept by a King entail? Jimin wraps his arms around himself and watches the light grow. How will this hurt him? Because surely it will, everything else has. He has no delusions; he understands he has gone from being the tool of one man to the prisoner of another, but at least this cage is gilded, pretty enough to pretend that he’s not in one at all.
Men like Jeongguk must grow bored easily though; men like Jeongguk can’t possibly care for their toys or if they break them. Jimin isn’t sure if there’s anything left in him to break, but if there is, surely this man will find it.
But what if…
Jimin has no delusions about his worth. Soowon made sure of that. But Jeongguk seems to think he’s rare and pretty enough to keep for at least a while—So what if Jimin convinces him to keep him for longer, maybe even forever?
Jimin might be a stray, but he’s not an idiot; he’s made this life work for him so far, and that doesn’t have to change. Sure, Jeongguk is frightening, but most men are. What’s different is Jeongguk’s wealth, his power, two things that could change Jimin’s life if he plays his cards right.
He used to be just another stray wandering the streets, freezing and underfed. He got himself out of that life and found another, but he never stopped looking for open doors.
And this one… this one is wide open and inviting, all warmth and golden light and safety in the shadows.
・♛・
Gerry Mulligan Sextet- Night Lights
“The problem with humans like you,” Jeongguk says conversationally as he straightens, “is that you always think you have the upper hand. The folly, I suppose, of believing you are the most dangerous one in the room.”
He gets no response from the figure slumped in the chair in front of him, but it’s fine; he wasn’t expecting one.
It’s been a busy but productive day, and he is looking forward to going home and relaxing.
A little thrill shoots through him when he recalls what he gets to return to.
He strips off the gloves he’s been wearing and sets them on a nearby table, expression thoughtful as he tilts his head to the side and asks the other man in the room, “Have the others been taken care of?”
“They have,” the man answers.
“Inform the mayor I’ll be expecting him to pay me a visit tonight, but not until after nine, I want to enjoy my evening before handing out a few reminders.”
“Sure thing, boss”
Jeongguk supposes the issue stems from how reclusive he’s been lately; the city seems to be forgetting, and that simply won’t do. He didn’t take all of this just to let it slip through his fingers. Maybe with a shiny new toy by his side, going out into the New York City night might regain some of its sparkle.
And it’ll certainly get the town talking.
A slow smile overtakes his expression as he leaves the room and its unmoving man behind. How fortunate that he acquired Park Jimin at a time such as this. He can already picture the headlines, the rumors and gossip that will follow his grand return to society, and all the things that will go with it when he appears with a rare, beautiful hybrid on his arm.
He has work to do, though. Jimin might be a diamond, but he’s going to need a little polish before he can truly shine. Someone falls into step behind him as he walks down the hall, and he says without looking back, “Call Hyejin, tell her I’ll be paying a visit tomorrow, so she needs to keep her schedule clear.”
“Yes, sir.”
It wouldn’t be hard; nothing ever really was for men like Jeongguk. It didn’t matter that he’d been out of the public eye for years—that hadn’t stopped the requests for his presence from pouring in. All he needed to do was pick the ones that would be the most interesting to attend, and the rest would take care of itself.
The penthouse is quiet when he returns, but not in the way he has grown accustomed to. Tonight, there is an air of anticipation in the dimly lit halls, a whisper of fear and trepidation lying like lace across each room. “Here kitty, kitty,” he sings into the darkness as he walks down the hall, where he can hear a heartbeat slowly growing faster with his approach.
He opens the door without knocking. Privacy is for people who don’t break and enter, after all.
Immediately, Jimin is scrambling from his spot in the middle of the bed, eyes wide and ears flat as he throws himself against the headboard and stares at Jeongguk, his fear a lovely little warm thing heating the air between them.
“Did I startle you?” Jeongguk asks with a grin, but gets no response.
He glances around the room but finds it unchanged; the only indication that it was occupied at all is the rumpled blankets and the slight indentation in the middle of the mattress. “I suppose I did tell you to stay here,” Jeongguk hums as he recalls the previous night, “I’m guessing you didn’t even feed yourself?”
Jimin shakes his head after a moment’s hesitation, and Jeongguk tsks, “Well, at least I know you can listen. Go shower, I’ll leave a change of clothes for you on the bed. Tomorrow we will get you a new wardrobe, but for now you can wear my things.”
The beast in him rumbles in approval when Jimin nods and immediately gets off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom a moment later. He’s obedient, that much is obvious, but Jeongguk doesn’t like the fact that he learned that from a human like Park Soowon. A pretty thing like Jimin shouldn’t have to hang around trash like that, but luck was on Jimin’s side now; he just hadn’t realized it yet.
Jeongguk hears the hiss of the shower as Jimin turns it on and goes to his own room, grabs a shirt and a pair of black silk shorts with the tag still on them, and returns to the hybrid's room, leaving both on the bed before going to the kitchen.
He strips off his suit jacket as he leaves the room and heads down the hall, discarding it carelessly on the back of a sofa before cuffing his sleeves up to the elbow. The beast in him is humming happily, excited to spend time with their new treasure as he prepares the night's meal. It’s not long before he sees Jimin out of the corner of his eye, standing in the kitchen entrance in the clothes Jeongguk had laid out for him.
“You look perfect,” he says appreciatively before nodding to one of the kitchen stools. “Have a seat, tell me about yourself.”
He watches Jimin climb up to perch on the high seat, looking graceful and afraid as he wets his lips and asks softly, “What do you want to know?”
“How long have you been stealing for Park Soowon?”
“Since I was fourteen.”
Jeongguk slices the next slice of pork a little more aggressively than he needs to. Maybe he’ll kill the human after all.
But right now, he has other things to concern himself with, like the way Jimin’s eyes start to shine in the soft glow of the chandelier, and oh… that is going to be a problem for him. He stares for a moment, lets himself indulge in it, because just looking at Jimin feels like a luxury and he does love luxury. But then he remembers himself and asks, “Have you ever known any other life than the one Soowon gave you?”
Jimin shakes his head, “I grew up on the streets, ran away from an orphanage when I was old enough to start showing hybrid traits, and taught myself how to steal. Soowon offered me steady pay and a roof over my head two years into it, and I’ve been there since then.”
His story is simple, straight to the point—there’s no room for embellishment or nostalgia when you grew up homeless. Jimin’s lucky he didn’t end up in a worse situation, but Jeongguk supposes that is just a sign of the hybrid’s wit and resilience, two things that make him even more valuable to a man like Jeongguk.
“I’m afraid the life you lead with Soowon will be nothing like the life you lead with me,” Jeongguk informs him with a hint of amusement in his voice.
“I’m assuming as much,” Jimin admits quietly.
Gods, but he is beautiful.
“I told you I intend to keep you, Jimin, but I haven’t explained the conditions.” He continues to cook as he works, glancing up every now and then in admiration as Jimin gathers himself and dashes the tears from his cheeks with those deft little fingers. “I found the man who wanted those papers you almost stole, and after our conversation was over, it occurred to me that this town is forgetting who exactly is in charge.”
So you and I are going to have a little fun, because I am what I am and you… are exquisite, and I like exquisite things, Jimin, I like them a lot.” He pauses and sets the knife aside, giving the leopard boy his full attention, “The human side of the city hasn’t been kind to you, but you’re not there anymore—you’re here, with me, and I can show you the real New York, the one they can only dance along the edges of, the one no human can ever truly enter. I need to remind everyone who is in control, and there are many ways to do that, but having someone—something, as rare and precious as you at my side?” The beast in him rumbles, and his smile is slow and sure as nightfall, “We’ll have the whole town talking, doll, and you will never have to steal for anyone, let alone a human, ever again. All you have to do… is be mine.”
“And what does that entail?” Jimin whispers, eyes downcast.
“Hm, we’ll let time decide that, I think.” Jeongguk smiles, well aware of his own charms. “But when we are out, we act like a couple, and I intend to dote on you, and I expect you to pretend to like it. I’m a civilized monster, though, so don’t fear me too much.” He winks and adds, “Though I’m a bad man, Park Jimin, make no mistake, I’ll always be very, very good to you, I promise, and I never break my promises.”
He continues to prepare their meal, careful with every step, until he gets to the part where he needs to sweeten it.
He grabs the pomegranate off the counter and tears it in half with his bare hands, the juice cascading down his fingers in tiny rivulets and a few drops splattering across his lips and cheeks.
“Would you like some?” He asks as he holds out half of the ragged fruit.
Jimin looks from him to the red decorating his skin to the offering in his hands, and then, after a moment, he reaches out and takes a single seed, placing it on his tongue as Jeongguk licks the scarlet from his lips and smiles again, satisfied, before he continues his work.
“We’re going to have a lot of fun, you and I, and it’s going to start tonight.” His preparations complete, he puts a lid on the pan and takes down a bottle of wine from a nearby rack, uncorking it with a little pop of magic and pouring it out into two sparkling glasses. “After dinner, we have a guest coming over to our humble abode, you might recognize his name? Kim Namjoon ring any bells?”
Jimin’s eyes grow wide, and he nods mutely.
“So yes, the mayor of our fair city will be gracing us with his presence, and I’d like our little charade to start tonight.” Jeongguk takes a sip of his wine and sits down on the stool beside Jimin, like they are two businessmen at a bar, and not a monster and a timid kitten. “You don’t have to say anything. In fact, if you just want to curl up next to me on the couch and act like you’re asleep, that’s completely fine; you just have to be comfortable with me. Can you do that, Park Jimin?”
“Why?” Jimin asks softly.
“Why what?”
“Why… me?"
Jeongguk chuckles in disbelief, “You truly don’t know your worth, do you, and Soowon never told you." A flicker of pain in those brown eyes, there and gone a heartbeat later, “You outshine every diamond just by existing, but let me polish you and show you off, and you’ll be the brightest star in the sky, let alone the city.”
・♛・
Jimin thinks about their conversation as he trails after Jeongguk toward the dining room. He’s lived his entire life in the shadows, kept his existence secret so that he could more easily disappear. He was educated—he had to be in order to do the work he did, but he was sheltered, aware of the larger world but never allowed to be part of it, let alone the magical community.
The orphanage and the Soowon had made sure of that.
But he doesn’t have time to dwell on what his life used to be like, not when Jeongguk is looking at him like he knows every secret Jimin has ever whispered to the shadows over his bed late at night. He pulls out a chair for Jimin, smiling softly as he guides it forward, as Jimin sits and leans down to whisper, “So far this isn’t too bad, is it, darling?”
The air is cool, but Jeongguk’s breath is warm on his skin.
“No,” he whispers because his nights usually look very different. Lonely, dark, and cold, with little food, and Soowon and his lackeys laughing drunkenly downstairs. He feels like they’re on an island high above the city, the rest of the world nothing but the same glitter and shadow he sees in Jeongguk’s eyes.
Jeongguk chuckles, warm and low, before disappearing to retrieve their meal. A few minutes later, there is a plate before him and his untouched wine glass sitting close at hand. “I opened a vintage for us, doll, don’t let it go to waste.” Jeongguk tips him a wink as he drinks more of his own.
The lights overhead sparkle like garnets within the depths of his wine glass as he contemplates his fate, then, after a moment’s hesitation, he lifts it to his lips and drinks.
“I’m trusting you to take care of me,” Jimin says quietly as he sets the glass down.
“Oh, I will, Park Jimin. I will.”
Here’s to playing this game, he thinks to himself, here’s to performing my part perfectly, here’s to securing more than a King’s obsession, but his heart as well.
The meal is delicious, better than any food he has ever had, and a couple of bites in, he realizes just how ravenous he is, devouring everything on his plate under the pleased gaze of Jeongguk, who eats at a much slower pace, his expression vaguely amused.
“Is it good then?” He asks, although the answer is obvious.
Jimin nods and takes another drink of wine, and Jeongguk’s smile grows, “So tell me, little leopard, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?”
Jimin blinks because Jeongguk’s eyes are so dark it’s almost distracting, and it’s like he can feel the weight of them even when he looks away. “I’m thinking,” he whispers as he stalls, not wishing to admit to all that’s been going through his mind, “that I should know more of what you want from me when we go out.”
He needs to learn, needs to find out what Jeongguk likes so he can use it to his advantage.
“Ah,” Jeongguk chuckles and takes a drink of his own, “I’m a simple man, Jimin, and a bit old-fashioned I’m afraid. I’ll want you on my arm, and if we’re somewhere we can get away with it, in my lap.” He smiles to himself as he continues, “I’ll expect physical affection, in fact, I expect you to be enamored with me, and to never shy away from my touch. I like it when my partners rely on me, when they look to me for what they need."
Jimin nods, not surprised Jeongguk wants his partners dependent on him, nor repulsed by the idea of letting Jeongguk be that way with him. The cat in him loves physical affection, and he’s been starved of that in any form for as long as he can recall. He can only imagine it will latch onto Jeongguk quickly, desperate for its needs to be met after so much neglect. Jimin welcomes it, honestly, because he trusts his leopard instincts to keep him alive better than his human ones.
“Won’t it be strange that I came out of nowhere and we’re suddenly together?” He can’t help but ask.
“I’ve been out of the public eye for long enough that it won’t matter, but even if it does, that’s just more gossip to feed the town with, isn’t it darling? A little mystery? Who is this beautiful leopard boy, and why does he look like a prince?” Jeongguk leans a cheek onto one palm and looks at him with those big, shadow-star eyes, “I truly can’t wait to absolutely spoil you and show you off to a world that will want you and not be able to have you.”
The wine is starting to muddle Jimin’s edges, and maybe that’s why he asks, “Do you like having something to spoil?”
The night grows darker in Jeongguk’s gaze, “Yes, Jimin, I do.”
“No one has ever spoiled me before,” he admits softly.
The curved edges of the King’s smile are as sharp as blades, “I’d love to be the first, then.”
They finish their meal, and Jimin finishes his wine, the human in him softened enough by it that the cat can come forward a little more. It understands the mission perfectly and isn’t sure why Jimin would be wary of someone who had not only taken them from a bad situation but also offered them shelter and a meal.
It’s a simple creature, Jimin does his best with it.
They step into the living room where Jeongguk pours himself a tumbler of whiskey while nodding to the couch, “Make yourself comfortable, our guest will be arriving shortly."
Jimin curls up on one side, still sober enough to feel a little self-conscious about the way the silk shorts ride up on his bare thighs, the black fabric contrasting sharply against his pale skin. Jeongguk, however, eyes him appreciatively before sinking onto the sofa and putting an arm across the back. “Remember our agreement, kitty cat, we need to make this look real.” He smiles because this is all just a game to him, but Jimin is a player too, not a pawn, so he crawls towards Jeongguk as prettily as he can, and curls up cutely against his side.
He smells nice, he thinks to himself drowsily, then has to bite back a laugh.
Here he is, captive of the most dangerous man in the city, and he’s thinking about the way he smells.
A large, warm hand falls on his shoulder, and the cat in him betrays Jimin, just like he knew it would. It feels safe here, far from Soowon and the company he kept. Everything is quiet, warm; this man has fed them and offered them safety. What cat wouldn’t feel at ease?
“Oh? Are you purring?” Jeongguk laughs in disbelief as Jimin keeps his head down, hiding the blush on his cheeks. “Do you like being pet, kitty?”
Jimin bites his lip, unsure how to respond. His instincts insist he is safe even if logic tells him he’s anything but; the cat in him is convinced they are fine, and Jimin, unable to fight his instincts, purrs a little louder in agreement.
“And here I was thinking you couldn’t be any more perfect,” Jeongguk hums to himself as he takes a sip of his whiskey. “I think we should go shopping tomorrow, and then perhaps a haircut for you? Would you like that?”
Soowon always insisted on Jimin keeping his hair longer to better hide his ears, but Jimin thinks it might be nice to have one of those stylish cuts he’s seen on television and on subway billboards. “I’d like that,” he admits, “Do I… Do I not have to hide my ears anymore?”
“Not at all, in fact, I’d love for you to show them off.”
“Okay,” he whispers. “What about my tail?”
“Excuse me?”
Jimin flinches slightly because Soowon always hated being asked whether it was safe for him to be partially shifted, but then he glances up, and Jeongguk doesn’t look angry; he looks delighted.
“Your tail?” He asks with an arched eyebrow, “Darling boy, where are you hiding that?”
Jimin blushes even more, “I keep it shifted, but it’s more comfortable for it to be out.”
“By all means then, little thief.”
A minute later, a long, thick tail is curling around them like it has a mind of its own, and Jeongguk is laughing again, like Jimin is the most amazing thing in the world, and that attention feels like both a blessing and a curse.
They’re interrupted by the sound of the intercom buzzing.
“Sir, Kim Namjoon is here.”
“Send him up,” Jeongguk says, smile and laughter falling away to be replaced by a deadly indifference. Jimin’s heart rate kicks up as he unconsciously presses closer, but there is less comfort there now as Jeongguk focuses on the sound of approaching footsteps.
He tilts his head back down and hides his face, deciding the best thing for him to do would be to pretend to be asleep. It’s not hard; he wasn’t exaggerating when he said he didn’t hold his alcohol well, and one glass and a fool of a cat are enough to have him leaning into Jeongguk and breathing in the smell of him.
“Mr. Kim, lovely of you to join us,” Jeongguk’s voice is different now, not unfriendly but sterner, more business-like than when he was speaking to Jimin. “I’m afraid it’s been too long since we spoke.”
“It has,” the mayor of New York is wise to agree, Jimin thinks. “How have you been?”
Blomqvist- Catharsis in G Minor
“Well enough with the company I’ve been keeping,” Jeongguk replies.
“And this is…”
“Jimin,” Jeongguk replies, “you’ll be seeing more of him in the future.”
“Oh? Have you finally grown bored in your high tower?”
“I wouldn’t say that, in fact, recently I’ve been very entertained but… people seem to be forgetting exactly who I am. This little leopard was sent here to steal from me, and instead of killing him like I’ve killed every other person who has attempted to cross me, I decided to keep him.”
“Keep him?” Namjoon asks, his deep voice flat.
“Ah, come now, Namjoon, don’t look at me like that. You’re fine with me killing a few people here and there for you, but I can’t make someone go to soirées and dinners with me? Think of the alternative, he could be dead, or worse, still with the man who neglected him.”
He bites back a tiny sigh; truly, his life has gone from bad to complicated. Because sitting in on this conversation means he’s overhearing things he has no interest in hearing. He doesn’t want to know that Jeongguk has killed for the mayor of New York. He doesn’t want to know that the mayor is a criminal. This is the kind of information that gets you killed, and Jimin tries very hard to avoid having that happen to him.
We’re safe, the cat in him insists.
But Jimin doesn’t know safe, so even though he hopes it’s right, he still can’t let himself believe it.
The two men keep talking, their voices a quiet rumble in the otherwise silent room. Plans are made, agreements are reached, and eventually Jimin relaxes enough to start purring again, though this time quieter, like it’s a sound only for Jeongguk to hear. The hand on his shoulder flexes slightly, fingertips pressing ever so gently into skin, and Jimin shivers and inches a little closer.
Time slips past; he isn’t sure for how long. The quiet, a blanket over his shoulders, Jeongguk’s sweet scent heady on his tongue. It’s almost as intoxicating as the wine in his blood, and as he slips closer and closer to the realm of sleep, he finds himself breathing it in deeper, committing it to memory, letting it seep into his bones.
He wakes up to strong arms lifting him from the sofa.
“Don’t worry, kitty cat, I’m just leaving you in your own bed,” Jeongguk murmurs from somewhere above him. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow, hm?”
Jimin doesn’t know what he’s talking about, wiggling slightly in Jeongguk’s hold until he’s finally gently placed upon the blankets, “Get some sleep, pet. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Pet.
He supposes that’s what he is now.
A pretty pet.
But, with the life he's led, he can imagine far worse fates.
・♛・
Jimin wakes to soft morning light bleeding through the organza curtains. The first light of a gray Atlantic dawn kissing his eyelids like the ghost of a lover. For a moment, he does not recall where he is, but he knows he isn’t in his old room, and at that moment, Jimin is content. He burrows sleepily back into the blankets, his purr loud and steady as he kneads them. They smell entirely of him and no one else, and he feels safe and warm and content until his sleep-soft thoughts finally catch up to reality.
The purring slowly dwindles into stillness.
He’s now a pet and plaything to the most dangerous and powerful man in the city, and the only way he can ensure his own survival is to make that man fall in love with him.
Soowon always told him he was too smart and too pretty for his own good; now Jimin has to trust that will be enough to keep him alive.
His thoughts are interrupted by the door opening.
“Good morning, kitty cat,” Jeongguk says as he slips into Jimin’s room, already dressed and looking as handsome as the devil himself in his fitted turtleneck and black slacks. “Time to join me for breakfast.”
He’s unaccustomed to eating first thing in the morning, usually having to wait until midday to find a chance to slink into the kitchen and feed himself without some lackey nearby eyeing him and making suggestive comments. This is by far a nicer option, Jeongguk is handsome and keeps his hands to himself as Jimin trails after him, rubbing at one eye and enjoying how warm the penthouse is.
Even the floors are heated, a luxury Jimin never imagined he’d get to enjoy.
“Are you excited about your first day out on the town with me?” Jeongguk chuckles as he serves him his breakfast, “I hope you enjoy being spoiled, because that’s what’s about to happen.”
“I’ve, uh… never been spoiled,” he admits. “There’s never been anyone to… you know…” he waves a hand vaguely, aware of how tongue-tied he is but unable to do a damn thing about it.
Jeongguk looks amused as he sits down next to him, “Cute little thing,” he mutters as he props his cheek on one palm and looks Jimin up and down. “You wake up radiant, by the way.”
Jimin would argue he wakes up looking like he slept in a windstorm, but whatever beast is inside this man obviously has some sort of bias towards him.
“Go on then,” Jeongguk nods towards his plate, “we’re stopping for lunch, but that won’t be for several hours.”
Jimin eats under the King’s careful gaze, getting little hums of approval here and there as he does. Jeongguk’s attention alternates between him and the phone in his hand as he attends to what Jimin can only assume is the vast high-profile criminal network of New York.
After breakfast, Jimin is given more of Jeongguk’s clothes to wear, then bundled in an overcoat that is too big for him and smells heavily of Jeongguk. It is warm and soft, and it makes the cat in him happy as they ride the elevator down to the parking garage, where a sleek black SUV with tinted windows waits, the driver hidden by a divider and the cab already warm.
Jeongguk opens the door for him before crowding his space and caging him against the far side. Jimin lets him, of course, he understands enough of the man now to see that proximity is going to be something he always maintains, and it doesn’t surprise Jimin that being outside would make it even worse.
The car takes off a moment later, and the hum of the engine fills the cab as Jeongguk sends some texts before setting his phone aside and returning his full attention to Jimin, “We’ll get you a wardrobe first, then the salon.” He hums and toys with the piercing on his lip before grinning, “Then we’ll go to lunch.” He leans against the door, casually taking up more space than he truly needs to, “So tell me about yourself, kitty cat? What do you do when you aren’t committing felonies?”
Jimin looks down at his tangled fingers, wondering what he could say, but he decides the truth is probably the best answer when it comes to telling Jeongguk anything. “I wandered the city mostly, trained in a gym one of Soowon's cousins owned sometimes, but mostly I just explored. Climbed buildings, found hidden places, stole things…" He trails off and smiles slightly. He was always looking for magic, for a way out of his life with Soowon and a way to be part of a world he had always been denied, all because he'd been left on some human orphanage steps.
Johann Johannsson- The Dreams That Stuff Are Made On
"You are far too pretty and precious to be wandering the city, kitty cat."
The cat in him likes the praise and the nicknames.
Jimin thinks he does too.
The car comes to a stop, and a moment later, the driver opens the door for them both, bowing as Jeongguk steps down onto the sidewalk, overcoat flaring in the wind, and turns to offer a hand to Jimin, who takes it uncertainly, unaccustomed to such courtesy when the King helps him down from the tall vehicle.
Then Jeongguk is pulling him closer, an arm around his shoulders as he guides him to shining glass doors with a name above that that Jimin barely registers before he’s inside, the noise and smells of the street fading away to be replaced by faint piano music and a gently spoken greeting from a beautifully dressed attendant.
“Mr. Jeon, it is a pleasure as always. If you would please follow me? We have everything ready for you.”
Jeongguk nods, his grip on Jimin unchanging even though they are inside, and Jimin is grateful for it because this place smells of magic and things he doesn’t understand. His nose twitches as it grows stronger, and they are led through another pair of doors into a long hall lined with numbered doorways.
“Which one will sir choose?” The attendant asks, and it takes Jimin a moment to realize he’s the one being spoken to.
“Me?” He whispers anyway, just to make sure. He glances up at Jeongguk, who is looking down at him with that raised eyebrow once more.
“There’s no wrong answer,” the attendant assures him, “just pick the one that calls to you the most.”
Jimin frowns and glances from one closed door to the next. Aside from the numbers, there is no discernible difference between them, and then he realizes the numbers aren’t in any sort of sensible order, each one seeming chosen at random. Perplexed and intrigued, curious by nature but rarely allowed to indulge in it, Jimin glances up at Jeongguk again, but he simply tilts his head to the side and waits, not influencing Jimin in the slightest.
He looks around again, trying to decide which number calls to him the most. Then his eyes fall on the number thirteen. He feels just the faintest tug in its direction, and there's a surge of magic that makes his nose twitch before he's sneezing four times in quick succession.
"Is that the one then?" Jeongguk asks, and he sounds amused.
Jimin nods and, after a moment's hesitation, steps forward and opens the door, uncertain what to expect but never expecting… this.
Inside is a space that looks like it shouldn’t be contained within an entire building, let alone four walls. The ceiling is no ceiling at all; instead, it is a twilight sky awash with stars, and there is a full moon suspended in the heart of it, its light bright and golden. The indigo floor is scattered with glowing, golden, six-pointed starbursts, and the wall is studded with illuminated maps of constellations and planetary systems. And between the stars, illuminated by low-hanging golden lamps, are several racks of clothes and shoes.
“Oh, splendid,” the attendant says happily, “very nicely done.”
Jimin has no idea what the man means as Jeongguk ushers him inside, “Pretty just like you,” he murmurs into Jimin’s ear before giving him the gentlest push. “Go on then,” he says with a nod, “start picking things out.”
Jimin hesitates, because surely he doesn’t mean…
“You heard me, doll.”
All around him, he sees silk and satin shirts so delicate that it looks like if he handled them too much they would tear, and in colors from jewel-toned and vibrant to purest whites and darkest blacks. There were suits of every imaginable style, casual day wear, extravagant jackets and overcoats, and sleepwear. Anything and everything Jimin could possibly want was waiting for him to simply take.
“Is there a fitting room?” Jimin asks after a moment, mostly because he is already overwhelmed and uncertain.
“Everything in the room will fit you perfectly,” the attendant explains, “it was created with you in mind.”
“But…” Jimin glances at the clothes, not understanding, “I just got here?”
“And that was all this room needed. It exists in this moment, looking the way it does, because of what it sensed you need and want.”
Jimin blinks as the words sink in. Was this the magic he was feeling when they’d walked in, just on the other side of a door that leads to a busy city sidewalk? He glances around again, seeing the room with new eyes, and realizes that yes, he does actually love how everything looks, and that every article of clothing he sees appeals to him.
“Welcome to the world you were meant for, Park Jimin,” Jeongguk says as he watches with those dark eyes, “I hope you won’t hesitate to indulge yourself.”
・♛・
They leave the store, whose name Jimin never manages to catch, with over a dozen bags and boxes being carried out to the car by attentive employees, and Jimin already dressed in one of his new outfits. He never sees money exchanged, has no idea the price of anything he chose, and even though the back of the SUV was full of his choices, Jeongguk had still hummed and said with a quirked eyebrow, “You could have gotten more.”
Johann Johannsson- Dressing Up
Now they are standing before their next destination, another glittering glass door leading to a world of tasteful decor and pleasantly smiling attendants.
“Mr. Jeon, it is an honor to have you grace our establishment with your presence.” A stunningly gorgeous woman with waist-length black hair and full, ruby red lips bows to the King. “What can we offer you today?”
“Nothing for me, Hyejin,” Jeongguk says before ushering Jimin forward. “We’re here for him.”
The woman’s eyes light up as she takes in Jimin’s figure from top to toe, “Ah, you brought us a little diamond in the rough here, Mr. Jeon.”
“Yes, and I know of no one more suited to make him shine,” Jeongguk smiles.
“We’ll work our magic on him,” Hyejin smiles, and though there is nothing cruel or dangerous in her gaze, Jimin still feels nervous. He's whisked from one room to the next, given champagne to drink that he’s too scared to touch as he is treated to a manicure, a pedicure, a facial, and a haircut. There’s no literal magic to be seen throughout the experience, but Jimin still feels transformed by the time he is being spun around in the stylist's chair to reveal his new appearance.
It’s the same, but different. Gone is the shaggy, messy hair Jimin had been forced to trim himself, replaced by clean ends and a soft look that somehow frames his features perfectly. His ears are much more prominent now, their rounded tips exposed and facing forward as he leans towards the mirror to inspect himself. He’s never thought much of his appearance, but right now he feels pretty, and it’s a strange feeling indeed.
“Look at you,” Jeongguk says appreciatively from where he is waiting in a private lounge. He’s sat at the center of a long sofa, one arm stretched along the back of it, legs spread comfortably in front of him, but he stands as soon as Jimin enters, his expression pleased as it sweeps over him from head to toe. “I knew you’d be gorgeous under all that fear and neglect.”
Neglect.
Yes, he supposes he’s been neglected.
They’re on their way out when Jimin notices a glittering display near the front of the salon, where a single chair sits next to a sparkling array of earrings. He slows at the sight of it, drawn in by all the diamonds and pearls as much as his own innate curiosity, and almost immediately he feels Jeongguk at his back, his looming presence never far.
“Curious?” He drawls softly, “I’d love to buy you earrings, if you’d like to get your first piercings.”
Jimin wets his lips nervously.
Jeongguk tracks the movement before his dark gaze flies back up to capture Jimin’s, “What do you say, doll? You don’t have to deny yourself any more, if you want it, it’s yours.”
Fifteen minutes later, Jimin’s earlobes throb slightly as he looks in a little hand mirror at the gold and diamond studs that now grace them.
“Do you like them?” Jeongguk asks.
Jimin nods.
“Good,” Jeongguk smiles slightly, “because diamonds suit you.”
Jimin can’t help but agree as he catches his reflection again, the little jewels winking at him brightly like they know they’re the gems he didn’t have to steal.
・♛・
Jeongguk watches Jimin as the leopard stares out at the passing city streets. Hyejin’s magic is subtle, but her touch has made the hybrid glow like a full moon. His platinum hair is soft and shining, his cheeks flushed pink and radiant, and the fact that Jimin gave in to a little impulse for the first time?
Just icing on the cake, really.
Jeongguk wouldn’t call himself hedonistic, but he has a certain appreciation for the finer things in life. He hasn’t been indulging them as much as he used to, though, having lost himself for a while in the shadows that like to take up residence within him. Jimin is a little dazzling light in the darkness; a beacon of white gold that coaxes the beast in Jeongguk into wakefulness and reminds him of a hunger he hasn’t been able to sate in a long, long time.
Not for any one thing in particular, but simply… more.
He always wants more.
They reach their destination, and he holds back a satisfied smile when Jimin accepts his help without hesitation. The streets here are even busier than the last stop, and it pleases him endlessly when Jimin presses into his side willingly, eyes wide as Jeongguk ushers them forward.
He glances down at the little hybrid as he opens yet another shining glass door and easily strides past the waiting patrons and the elegant sign that reads “By Reservation Only”. A dozen eyes are on them as they walk, and every member of the staff knows to bow as he passes through the main part of the restaurant, down a long corridor, and into the next.
He feels Jimin stiffen against him as they step from the pleasantly lit and charmingly modern aesthetic of the front of the restaurant and into the back.
“You okay?” He asks with a soft laugh as the little hybrid’s scent spikes nervously, and he leans back against Jeongguk almost as if by instinct.
“Yes, it’s just… I can smell magic, you know? And this is… a lot.”
“May I?” Jeongguk asks, as he holds out a hand. When Jimin takes it, he swipes his thumb over the inside of his wrist, scenting him lightly. “Does that help?”
Jimin blinks, pupils dilating slightly, “Yes, actually it does. Thank you.”
“Mr. Jeon,” a smooth voice says at their elbow, and they turn to find a handsome man with a charming smile bowing. “This is a wonderful surprise. Are you here for your customary room?
“No, just a table for two will be fine.”
They are led to the heart of the room, and though Jeongguk can smell how nervous Jimin still is, no one would ever guess just by looking at him. He walks through the room as if he owns it, chin up and nose in the air as he presses himself into Jeongguk’s side. And when Jeongguk pulls his chair out for him, Jimin rises onto his tiptoes and presses a quick, shy kiss to his jaw.
“I’m going to have to get used to being noticed when we’re out,” he comments as he takes his seat. “Typically, my entrance into a room with this much money isn’t through the front door.”
“Luckily, the NYPD knows better than to set foot in places designated as mine, so you won’t have to worry about being arrested today.” Jeongguk sinks into his seat opposite Jimin and reaches across the table for his hand, smiling when the hybrid takes it. “Though I do wonder if our nation’s most wanted thief has stolen from any of our fellow diners.”
Jimin blinks, his hooded eyes becoming wide and innocent, “Nation’s most wanted?” He laughs softly and shakes his head, “You’re exaggerating.”
“Am I?” Jeongguk asks as he idly plays with Jimin’s fingers, “What reason would I have to lie?”
Jimin tilts his head to the side, “I guess I don’t really have a concept of how wanted I am.”
“Yes, that much is obvious,” Jeongguk quips, and is delighted by the nonplussed look he gets in response. “But seriously, darling. I looked you up and found out you have quite the file. We’ll have to get that sorted out for you, hm?”
Jimin laughs like Jeongguk is lying, and while Jeongguk likes to think he has a good sense of humor, he wouldn’t lie about this. “It’s astonishing, really, how much they have on you without actually knowing a thing. You’ve made a lot of wealthy people very upset, but luckily for you, I’m richer than all of them combined.”
Jimin glances skyward as if asking for patience, but his smile shows how delighted he actually is by the news.
“I truly hate how unspoiled you’ve been your entire life, by the way. If only we’d met sooner,” Jeongguk pauses to thank the server for dropping off his wine, then tips Jimin a wink. “It’s going to be delightful making up for lost time, though, don’t you think?”
“As someone who has never been spoiled, I’m looking forward to learning what it’s like.”
“That’s the spirit,” Jeongguk gives their joined hands a little shake. He feels younger than he has in years, and though he never experienced the quintessential Christmas morning growing up, he has to imagine it’s a similar feeling to seeing Jimin smile.
“So, is this your favorite restaurant or something?” Jimin asks, glancing around at the opulent interior.
“Not at all,” Jeongguk replies. “I think you’d be surprised to find out where my favorite place to dine is.”
“Is it somewhere more exotic than this?”
Jeongguk takes a sip of his wine and smiles, “It depends on your definition, I suppose. Some people might find it exotic, though personally, I find it the opposite. But I don’t take just anyone there, Jimin, so you’ll have to stick around a bit longer if you’d like to find out where it is. I’m a little protective of it.”
Jeongguk sets his wine down and props his chin up on one hand watching Jimin look over the menu. His mannerisms are so delicate, from the way he tucks a strand of hair behind his ear to how he catches that plush lower lip between his teeth. It would be easy to fall for someone like Park Jimin, who is all sweetness and charm but with a street-wise edge that Jeongguk finds addictive.
He can’t wait to find out more, to learn the ins and outs of what makes Jimin tick. He’s never felt so drawn to another person before, never considered keeping anyone around just for fun. His life isn’t fun, although it has its moments; there isn’t much room for joy in his world.
And yet, and yet, and yet…
The waitress comes to take their order, and the little joke she makes has Jimin giggling, a small hand raised to cover a wide smile. No one else is laughing so freely around them, no one else lets their smile linger like they were actually amused.
His father would say that Jimin is a liability, an opportunity for Jeongguk to put himself at risk and open himself up to harm. But his father is also six feet under because the old man was a poor judge of character, so his opinion is far from relevant. Jeongguk might not have been leaving the penthouse much, but he still knows his city, and he knows this little thief is the least of his problems.
Still, he can see the questions and curiosity in Jimin’s gaze every time their eyes meet, like Jeongguk is a puzzle he is determined to solve. It’s cute and sweet, really—no one ever pays that much attention to him as a person, since they’re far more interested in what he can do for them with his money. Jimin, however, calls him ridiculous and rolls his eyes, shakes his head, and does a dozen other things people typically don’t dare to do around Jeongguk.
And it’s amazing.
He’s not sure where this is all going; to say he had a plan would be a gross exaggeration. He’s not typically impulsive, but something about Jimin makes him want to rush headlong into the unknown, consequences be damned.
・♛・
Afternoon light is spilling over the city as Jeongguk helps Jimin back into the SUV, his free hand reaching for his phone as it begins to ring.
“One moment, kitty cat,” He says with a smile before gently closing the door. It’s terribly domestic, in a very specific, stereotypically wealthy, New Yorker sort of way, watching him walk away as he puts his phone to his ear, open overcoat flaring in the Atlantic wind as Jimin sits in the warmth of the cab and waits. Jeongguk looks so powerful even when he's not doing anything, and there's an aura to him that makes passersby step aside, giving him a wide berth as he begins to pace.
"I'm afraid I'll have to drop you off at home, duty calls and all that," Jeongguk says as he climbs into the cab and sits beside Jimin. "But I'll be back before you know it."
Jeongguk walks him to the elevator and blows him a kiss as the doors close, and Jimin is left shaking his head at the strange duality of the King of New York.
Imposing, intimidating, both of those things were true. Jeongguk could wield fear like a literal weapon, and any form of shadow was his to command. And yet he was also charming, considerate, polite, and funny in a way Jimin found somewhat ridiculous. The monster from that first night was hidden away beneath a polished façade that was, at the very least, better company than Jimin has kept his entire life.
The elevator doors open and Jimin steps out into the entry, toes off his shoes and puts them in the coat closet. It feels strange, another domestic moment that punctuates just how non-domestic his life has been up to this point.
And now he has this—billion dollar views and heated floors and a chauffeur and a handsome man that doesn't touch him inappropriately but does seem inclined to spoil him rotten.
All of his purchases from the day are sitting in his bedroom, boxes and bags waiting to be sorted and put away, more wealth sitting in front of him than he has probably stolen in his entire life, and all given to him because…
He was what? Pretty? Rare? Jimin supposes it doesn't matter, so long as Jeongguk likes him enough to keep him around.
He showers in the stillness of the tower, the echoing quiet reassuring after the jarring streets of Manhattan, as he dries off and uses some of the new products he was given today. Feeling soft and worn down, he dresses in the same clothes he wore around the suite the day before, then spends the next couple of hours putting away his new clothes and accessories.
Afterwards, his cat urges him to take a nap, and he finds the perfect spot on the living room floor, the late afternoon sun warm and inviting. He ends up dragging a few blankets off his bed, purring already, and makes a heap of them on the floor before sinking into it and curling up, eyes closed, and face turned towards the sun.
For a caught criminal like himself, life could certainly be worse.
・♛・
Jeongguk stares at the passing streets without truly seeing them, thoughts a dozen steps and streets ahead as he plots out the rest of his afternoon. There’s much to be done but the only thing he really wants is to go home to Jimin, to learn more about the curious little hybrid who has captured his attention so completely.
Instead he spends the afternoon visiting a few places and letting the relevant people know that his days of seclusion in his high tower are at an end. There’s a lot of bowing and scraping, a lot of rushed assurances, but Jeongguk knows that by the end of the day, everyone will be on their best behavior; the lingering shadows and fear he leaves in his wake ensure it.
Then he’s back in the car again, ordering groceries for his housekeeper to pick up. It feels terribly domestic, something Jeongguk has never experienced before, and he grins at himself at the idea of finally getting to go home to Jimin once more. Groceries ordered, he switches tabs and spends the rest of the drive reading a veterinary page about cat behavior and habits, chuckling to himself as he does.
He comes home to a little leopard sitting up in the midst of a pile of blankets, his silver hair a mess and his cheeks flushed from sleep.
"Sorry to wake you," Jeongguk says as he sinks into a crouch beside the mound. Jimin smells heavily of peaches, and his lips seem inclined to pout when he is tired, a charming attribute that makes Jeongguk want to bite him, gently.
Jimin shrugs and rubs the back of one hand over his eyes, "It's fine, welcome home."
Jeongguk grins and stands, tapping the bottom of Jimin's chin lightly as he does, "Cute," he mutters as he looms over the hybrid. "Feel free to go back to sleep. I'm going to clean up and do some work, in about an hour, the housekeeper will be here to drop off groceries."
"Housekeeper?" Jimin asks, ears out to the side.
"Don't worry, she already knows not to go in your bedroom. I read today that cats are territorial."
"Did you?" Jimin asks, his expression shifting into something like amusement.
"Yes, but we'll talk more about that later. Don't be startled by the intercom, okay? I know cats don't like sudden noises."
He thinks he sees Jimin shaking his head as he turns away, but when he glances back, he's already stretched back out in the blankets, a far happier captive than Jeongguk ever imagined having.
He showers and is out in time to answer the intercom when the housekeeper calls up. He doesn’t feel like letting anyone into his apartment other than Jimin tonight, though, so he takes the groceries from her and sends her away again immediately so he can return to the little creature now curled up on the sofa, his eyes wide as he watches TV.
Jeongguk doesn’t watch television, but he is curious what is so fascinating about the program Jimin has on, so he sinks down next to the hybrid, picking up his feet and settling them in his lap without thinking about it. Jimin flinches away slightly, but then almost immediately stretches back out, toes pointed for a moment as he resettles, and a blush on his pretty cheeks.
・♛・
Paying attention to his show proves to be a challenge now that his feet are in the lap of the most dangerous man in New York. Jimin does his best, he really does, but he is touch-starved and more needy than he'd ever admit out loud, and then Jeongguk starts to rub his feet absently, and Jimin loses all ability to focus.
“I just don’t understand what she sees in him,” Jeongguk mutters as he watches the show. “He’s not even interesting.”
The love interest in this drama is rather boring, but that's supposed to be the point, so Jimin doesn’t correct him, just hums in quiet agreement and tugs his blanket a little higher.
“No, but seriously… What does she see in him?” Jeongguk demands, “I don’t get it.”
Jimin hesitates to explain, but eventually he says, “She’s had a lot of… uncertainty in her life before this; she probably thinks he feels safe.”
“Is that why you like it?” Jeongguk demands, turning to look at Jimin, one eyebrow raised, “Do you like boring, too?”
Jimin shrugs, “I like routine and quiet, which is probably pretty boring to most people."
“I read that about you today, too,” Jeongguk says with a nod, one long finger tapping the bottom of his foot.
"You keep saying you read about me, do I want to know what you're talking about?"
"I was on a veterinary page," Jeongguk says with so much sincerity that Jimin feels his spirit leave his body. "I read a bit and then realized I could just ask you about what you need."
"Yes, please," Jimin replies faintly. "I'm a hybrid, not a house cat."
"Aw, don't take offense, little thief," Jeongguk switches feet, "we're talking now, aren't we?"
"I suppose," Jimin says, once again bewildered by this man and his duality. "I guess what I need the most is to feel safe, I've… never had that before. Not at the orphanage, the streets, or with Soowon."
“I can keep you safe,” Jeongguk replies without looking away from the television, “they’re all afraid of me.”
And with that, the shadows grow a little darker, and the smile on Jeongguk's lips looks more like a scythe. He's all dying stars and waning moons in the twilight, and yet Jimin doesn't mind, little crepuscular creature that he is. "You're far too lovely to be lied to, kitty cat," Jeongguk leaves off massaging his feet and moves both hands to his ankles, giving one a firm squeeze before cuffing them loosely, "so believe me when I say I'll always do my best to keep you safe, even though my world is often anything but."
"I'm not as fragile as I look," Jimin replies, "I grew up on the streets, remember."
"Yes, and I hate it. It's a miracle you survived, but I suppose that's just proof of how capable you are."
Jimin shrugs, "I did alright."
"Please," Jeongguk says, eyebrow raised in his direction, "let's not pretend that Interpol doesn't know who you are."
Jimin looks away, but he's unable to hold back a small smile, "They might," he admits, "but only for a couple of things."
Jeongguk's smile is a little feral as he cocks his head to the side, "I think we're going to have a lot of fun together, kitty cat. I can show you wonders; there are hidden things and corners to our city that humans can only dream of and whisper about. There are no more locked doors for you, little thief, there are no more codes to crack. If you want something, it’s yours, including my protection.”
Jeongguk’s eyes are midnight black and full of stars, and the darkness seeps out of the edges of them and into the whites, swirling and hypnotic. Jimin has always wanted more than what life has given him, has always dreamed of a world different from his own. Now, Jeongguk is handing that to him with a promise of security and a home and danger, yes, but danger has always been a part of Jimin’s life, and he doesn’t think that will ever change.
Magic and risk go hand in hand, and this will be no different.
But at least the risk is a beautiful one, a warm one, a risk that teases and touches and taps his foot with one large hand when his show is over, shooing him towards the kitchen with a “It’s time to make dinner, kitty cat, let’s go.”
And yes, this is the most dangerous man in the city, but three nights in, Jeongguk is also the man who hand-feeds Jimin little pieces of fruit and sings under his breath and sits him on the counter and talks to him like he’s the most important person in the world.
And Jimin purrs the entire time.
Is this really just a façade they are maintaining for the public? And if so, who is here to witness Jimin watching Jeongguk cook him dinner? Who is here to see him flirt? There are no camera flashes, no curious eyes, there is just a growing familiarity between him and a dangerous man, who seems content to get to know him despite their odd circumstance, and who is so charming about it, that Jimin finds himself defenseless against it all, lost in those starry ocean eyes, and willing to drown because the depths meant real safety for the first time in his life.
・♛・
Abel Korzeniowski- Veiled Mirrors
“Sire?”
The man turns away from the view before him, eyes the bent figure cowering near the door. He recognizes that posture, knows that tone, and sighs, “Who has failed me this time?” He asks.
“The thief we procured through a local connection has been taken captive, the connection nullified, and our contact terminated.”
The man chuckles, rubs at the scar along his jaw with one rough hand, and shakes his head. He’s not surprised, not really—this was more of a test than anything, a shot in the dark that he didn’t suspect would find its mark, but it would make things more interesting. Jeongguk had been silent for so long that he had begun to fear someone else had killed him before he could, but luckily that wasn’t the case.
The King was still on his throne… for now.
“It doesn’t matter,” he tells the man by the door, “we continue moving forward as planned.”
“Of course, sire.”
“Has Soowon left the city?”
“Yes, sire.”
“Tell the hunters to track him down.”
“Yes, sire.”
The thief was untouchable for now, but that was irrelevant. The boy had no clue who had hired Soowon and it was that ignorance alone that would keep him alive.
Besides, it was… odd for Jeongguk to keep someone around instead of killing them immediately. Perhaps he could use the little hybrid to his advantage, later down the line.
“You’re dismissed,” he tells the man by the door, who leaves as quickly as one can without being disrespectful.
It is good to be feared like he used to be.
“Oh, Jeongguk… do you even know the game you have started to play?” He murmurs to himself as he goes back to looking at the view across the Hudson.