(JIKOOK) Texting Story Snippets

Wood

Lengthy fingers dig into the flesh of Jimin's arm. He's yanked from the backseat of a small car, barely catching himself fast enough to land upright onto the balls of his feet. Heavy breath is close to his ear and his heart is pounding in his chest. The sun is still shining bright in the sky when the hastily tied scarf is taken from his eyes. It drops around his neck.

"We're going inside." Yugyeom mutters. He glances around wearily, but never halts his steps towards the front door of a light painted house. The disoriented boy he's gripping onto stumbles behind him a few times. He wonders if he should've put something in Jimin's mouth to quiet him if he tries to scream, but his neighbors wouldn't hear it anyway. They're too far away, his secluded home standing lonely on a large piece of property his grandparents own. He'll figure out something to use as a gag for the other when he has a better grip on the hostage arrangements.

As his eyes are still adjusting to the sunlight of the day, Jimin stares up at the white shingles, the dark brown wood of the front door catching his attention. He had managed to sort through a couple ideas in his head during what felt like a lengthy car ride to end at this destination. His words suffocate in his throat when he moves his lips to speak, the realization of his situation shooting a new wave of terror into his veins. He feels the heat and pressure of Yugyeom's hand around him and his skin crawls.

Yugyeom tightens his grip on the other when he reaches forward to unlock the door to the house. It swings open with a screech and clatters against the wall. Yugyeom drags Jimin inside with him and kicks the door closed behind them.

"Where are we?" Jimin whispers with unsteady breath. His eyes observe every corner of the living room as he stops moving his feet. He glances back at the door and then to Yugyeom. The taller is watching him with a look in his eye Jimin can't decipher and his voice cracks when he speaks again, any idea of what's best to say or do fleeing from his mind under the uncomfortable stare. "Let me go, plea-".

Yugyeom scoffs before the request is finished leaving Jimin's frowning lips. He pushes the boy in front of him as they keep walking through the interior of his home until they come to another door. He can feel Jimin trembling in his hold and he chuckles. "Aww, you think I brought you here to just let you go?" His tone is thick with false pity. Yugyeom turns the doorknob to his bedroom and they enter quickly as he turns back to lock it behind him. "Lay on the bed."

Jimin looks up from his tied hands with worry reaching his expression he's been working to control. He blinks up at the challenge now overbearing in Yugyeom's eyes and he backs away from the man. "Your bed?" His voice comes out in a whimper.

"Come." Yugyeom loops a couple of fingers into the knot around Jimin's wrists. He drags him by the hands to the edge of his bed and nods down with a lift in his eyebrow. "I said to lay down."

"Please." Jimin shakes his head at the demand. He looks passed him to the window shielding out the sun rays trying their best to seep in through a dark curtain. He feels tears welling up in his eyes again and his muscles are stiff. "Please don't do this."

"What do you think I'm doing?" Yugyeom scoffs. "I told you not to fight this."

The tallers words send ice through Jimin's veins. He pushes against Yugyeom's chest with his bound hands. "Don't touch me." He means to yell, but his voice cracks again.

Yugyeom stumbles backwards a bit, surprised at Jimin's strength. He laughs then, hands grabbing the smaller boys shoulders and pushing him back against the mattress. He didn't want to use much force in the matter of making Jimin bend to his will, but if he has to he won't hesitate. He lifts the others struggling legs onto the bed and straightens them, using one hand to restrain them against it. Jimin is stronger than he realized, but he only adjusts his hold on the boy. "Don't fight me." He hisses above Jimin's face as he bends down to take his hands. Yugyeom unites the knots suffocating Jimin's wrists and drags them to one side of his bedpost, circling the fabric around its wooden frame. When he's sure the boy is secure, watching him pulling unsuccessfully against the restraints, Yugyeom stands up from the bed. "There. Now stay."

"Let me go." Jimin chokes, frantic. His skin rubs against the ties, causing irritation and burning as he tries to pull himself free. His eyes never leave Yugyeom's face, even as his vision is blurred from the pool of tears they hold. He's scared. A vision of Jungkook displays itself vividly in his mind and his heart stops in his chest. What is Jungkook going to do? What will he think when he doesn't show up, or text him back, or answer his calls? What will he do when he finds out what's happened? What's going to happen now? "Just, don't do this. Please don't do this."

"Shut up." Yugyeom drags his words. He turns his back on Jimin and walks to his dresser to rummage through one of the drawers. "You sound like Jungkook."

His comment makes Jimin stutter. "W-what?"

"Yeah he knows you're with me. It's good, really, because now it doesn't have to be all about you." Yugyeom smirks, looking back over his shoulder and chuckling at the dread in Jimin's expression. "He wants to talk to me now. Can you believe that? Now I mean something to him again."

"You talked to Jungkook?" Jimin takes in a ragged breath.

"Oh definitely. He wouldn't stop texting me. He's needy, you know."

Jimin pulls his knees up when Yugyeom starts to approach him again. He notices the man turning something in his hands as he shuffles closer. "He knows I'm here?"

Yugyeom stops at the side of the bed. His knees press into the firm mattress as he looks down over Jimin's frame. "Ah, where is 'here', Jimin?" He shrugs his shoulders, the smirk coming to take his lips again as he laughs. "I'm not good at answering so many questions, so just stop talking. I'd rather not be bothered anymore today." He lifts one end of the object in his grasp, extending the blade of a small knife. It twinkles in the fake light of his room and his expression softens. Yugyeom sighs. "Guess why I have this."

Jimin feels the air leave his lungs. He gasps to breath, watching the way Yugyeom twirls the small pocket knife in his fingers.

The sounds of Jimin's breathing amuses Yugyeom and he scoffs. "Don't panic, Jimin. I'm just demonstrating a bit of show and tell." He holds up the blade to give Jimin a clearer view of it. It's old and crusted with bits of dirt and debris on its wooden handle. "I was given this, one day, years ago. Jungkook found it close by my house one summer when we had nothing better to do but walk the neighborhood, talking about something or another. He could've kept it, it's a good thing to hold onto, but he said he wanted me to have it."

Jimin winces from the sound it makes when Yugyeom snaps the pocket knife closed, opening it again just to repeat the process. He suddenly wonders how ironic it is that a gift his boyfriend had given to this man could be turned against him at a moments notice. He swallows the lump in his throat, but can't think of anything to say.

"It's funny that he was like that back then, giving. He told me to just protect myself with it, in case," Yugyeom pauses, shaking his head and a smile lifts his lips again when he's finished. "Ah, in case somebody tried to hurt me. He changed when he met you. I really miss that Jungkook."

"He's kind to those who are kind to him." Jimin mutters, earning a glance from the other.

"Oh, but I was kind. I was patient."

"He doesn't owe you anything, Yugyeom. The treatment you got from him, that's what you deserved."

Yugyeom steps back to scan the position of Jimin, held against the sheets on his bed. He raises an eyebrow. "You're brave, aren't you? Have you accessed your situation?"

Jimin doesn't allow himself to blink, completely aware of the predicament he's in. He doesn't need to be reminded that he's in danger, that a psychotic man is holding him captive in his room. "Fuck you." Jimin grimaces when his voice shakes.

"In this case, I'd refer to you as stupid, rather than courageous. Jimin, I'm holding a knife."

"I'm aware."

Yugyeom hums. "Well, alright." He sucks in a large breath, whistling it through his teeth. "I thought you would find my story fascinating, but if you don't, I won't hold that against you." He tosses the knife back onto his dresser from a distance. It clatters against the wood, making the smaller boy jump. "Look," Yugyeom starts, sighing, "You're lucky that I still need you, or maybe I would hold that against you."