Bad Intentions // YOONKOOK fanfic.

IV

It's been a day, he realizes. Sharp nails pinch his skin out of mock curiosity—only offering the thought of this being a dream. He's bored, the baring bed aching his back as he times his breathing with the quirk of each movement the person on the top bunk makes. The beds are old, something to be expected; but he has never imagined to be paired with a prisoner who dreams whole-heartedly, moving as if he's struggling against crushing waves.

His fingers itch, so he moves to crack them, occupy and lessen his movements as he wishes nothing more than to stand on the edge of his bed with his pillow in tow, soon reaching out to press the flat flush of feathers and hovering it over the male's snoring state. He imagines himself pushing down, adding pressure, fighting with the struggling being until he becomes motionless, lifeless, sated.

But he knows that he shouldn't, oh, if he did he'll be pushed into seclusion and forced to make an escape out of pure boredom. He came here to have fun, so he relents and awaits for the time to pass; waits for the guards to come open his gate for 'outside' time and things such as showers and eating.

Prisoners are all separated into blocks A through F. While Jeongguk is placed into block E, all prisoners(except those forced into seclusion), come together when they exit their cells—with the exception of showers; showers are reserved for two blocks at a time.

The sun is shining brightly today, the windows in the cafeteria sit high, but the blue hues are evident as light sneaks through each rectangular opening—to let out and bring in some air. His steps are in unison to those in front of him, moving slightly but surely as metal trays scrape against a metal table.

The food looks disgusting, tastes as bad as it looks, but he's had worse. He chews on a piece of bread, often scraping up some sort of beans with a plastic spoon. He eyes the cup of jello that was placed onto his tray—it's red, his favorite color. Jeongguk loves jello. He swallows down the contents of a milk carton—only two gulps needed—and reaches out for the dessert, but his efforts are wasted when a tattooed hand reaches down to snatch it up.

He stares at the place where the jello used to be, mourning the emptiness it creates. He blinks slowly, lashes creating shadows against his cheeks and looks up. Seeming confident to finally hold the man's attention, the inked man smirks.

"You don't mind if I take this, do you?"

And there's a bunch of men behind him, seeming to carry similar smirks as they watch the scene unfold. Jeongguk scratches the right side of his neck in faux thought as he leans forward, elbow on the table as his hand holds up his head. He hums, eyeing his surroundings and catching sight of the entire cafeteria going still only to notice the lack of guards present.

"I do mind."

The man chuckles, looks back at his crew as if Jeongguk had attempted a joke. But one of them cough, their attention instantly following the one who had done so—and Jeongguk's eyes follow.

It's a man who seems to stand out against the bald, bearded, and macho men—too pretty, delicate, and withdrawn—but most had said the same about Jeongguk, so he doesn't disregard him. He notices the man staring at his neck, almost in recognition as he pulls the tatted guy to the side, whispering something Jeongguk cannot hear; not that he would care to.

Jeongguk ignores them, stares back down at his tray before sighing audibly. He straightens his back before titling his head to the side in order to crack it. He hears the rumbling of laughter and turns his attention back onto the group before him.

"JK? Never heard of him", the man snorts. "He doesn't seem as big and bad as you make him out to be—looks more like a bitch to me."

And Jeongguk laughs, loud enough to make the whole room stir. It's quiet now, only Jeongguk's laughter piercing the tensing silence. The group before him becomes confused.

"What's so funny, pretty boy?"

"You", Jeongguk chuckles, doubling over in laughter like a crazed man, eyes getting moist as he struggles to breathe. He then slaps his knee, still laughing as the burly man begins to feel offended, mocked, and disrespected.

To make a point to his crew, the man places his tray in the hands of the man behind him, said person fumbling between two trays before balancing them with the upmost care—if he was to drop Rex's tray—he didn't wish to imagine the outcome.

Jeongguk feels his body being jerked up and stops laughing mid-pull as he glances down at the hand gripping his shirt. He scans the tattoos on the male's hand, appreciating them objectively—seeming too distracted for Rex's liking for he pulls again, tugging Jeongguk's body to his.

"Say it again, sweetcheeks", he seethes. "I dare you."

Jeongguk lifts his gaze, eyes staring into green orbs. He pulls his lips into a large smile, teeth shining bright, but such a smile does not reach his eyes. He glares, eyes dark as he licks his lips. "You. Are. Hilarious."

"Oh, you're dead you fu-"

"Can we hurry this up? I really want to eat my jello."