jangmi (장미) ● taejoon

f o r t y t h r e e . [M]

Seokjin locked the van doors in front of him before plopping down beside Jimin, who had already begun running the computers. They both began to sweat tremendously, it was a heater inside the car on the hot day.

"... Mind turning on the AC?" Jimin asked, sighing as he started to pull up programs on Yoongi's computer. He fanned himself by moving his shirt out and in.

"Can't, it'll kill the car battery," Seokjin shook his head, slouching next to the man.

Jimin huffed, pulling up the camera recordings onto the screen. Pressing the spacebar. "... So what I've seen and what you told," he says, "I don't know who my boss sent in to pick him up, but I could run some identification tests on these at my house..."

He points to an area of the recording where Namjoon's car was slightly in view. "... You see there? Something shifts inside his car, it's a woman. You can tell by the hand that comes into view in the recording. It's not clear, but it's noticeable."

He presses the space bar again. "Watch as Namjoon walks to his car, fast forward to the car jerking to the left suddenly. That's probably when she knocked him unconscious and the gun slid under the car. After that, the two aren't seen at all in the recording. So they most likely took him on the right, the camera has no other evidence after that. There's no car that drives past on the left, so they probably drove off the same way they came in."

"... What about the houses in front of the school?" Seokjin asks, "There has to be some sort of security systems to let us know which streets they took."

Jimin shrugs. "... I doubt every house has a security system, and it'll take too long to figure it out. With this equipment or mine, either way it'll take too long."

Seokjin pursed his lip, frowning slightly in frustration. "... Replay the recording."

"... Just a sec," Jimin hummed, shifting away from Seokjin. Sweat trickles from the nape of his neck, and he takes off his shirt in order to ventilate. Sighing, wiping the sweat off with his shirt. "You know it wouldn't hurt to just turn it on for a couple minutes, this heat might overheat the computer too."

Seokjin moved to Jimin's spot before playing the video again. Watching Namjoon walk out of the school, bag in hand, tiredly trudging to his car. "... He was on the phone with me," he murmured, noticing Namjoon holding a hand up to his ear. "... I was asking him to come home..."

Seokjin pursed his lips tightly again, continuing to rewind the recording in hopes of finding something - anything.

"I knew he was getting annoyed at me," he says, "... I just wanted to make sure he was safe, he wasn't going to get hurt. He can fight for himself, I know that, but it just reminds me so much of how painful it could be for him. I didn't want him to fight so much, he's always in pain physically and mentally. I don't know how to help him sometimes, and- and now that he's all alone again-"

"... Baby," Seokjin felt Jimin's bare chest on his back with his arms wrapping around his waist. "He's bring him back alive. He'd never kill someone whose precious to his daughter, I've known how he is with that little girl ever since she was born."

This time, Seokjin doesn't move nor does he move him. He just sits there, letting Jimin hold him close. Too tired to fight it. Physically. Mentally.

"... I've known Namjoon for a long time too," he says quietly, "... He may come back alive, but not the same. You know how long it took to bring life back into his eyes? How long do you think it'll take before he's back to some monotone person who'll just act like a domestic pet for the rest of his life?"

"... You need to relax," Jimin mumbled, resting his chin on his shoulder. "Remember, he's an adult. He's not a teenager or little kid."

"Why don't you pay attention to me for a bit," The warmth of his breath went to Seokjin's bars neck, lips caressing the soft skin. "You might break before he does if you keep this up."

Jimin gently moved Seokjin's jaw to the side to make more room for his lips onto his neck. The soft sounds were all that was left in the van. He continues to hold him since Seokjin doesn't fight it.

His lips get higher till he makes eye contact with Seokjin, placing a hand under his chin. They stare at each other for a moment before Jimin leans in.

Seokjin hums into the kiss, hesitating but closing his eyes. His hands rested on the keyboard, but he moves closer to the younger Pushing himself away from the equipment.

Jimin's hands made way to under his shirt, tugging it upward as they began to get distracted. Lifting Seokjin's shirt off his body, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. Seokjin makes him fall over again the van, his back hitting the hot metal.

They don't say anything. With now swollen lips, Seokjin trails them down to Jimin's neck in return. Propping himself up by his elbows, his knees kept Jimin pinned down.

Just as Jimin's breath began to race once Seokjin hit his collarbone, he glanced at Seokjin's hand that clenched till his knuckles were white. "... Jin- Jin-ah," he says softly, "Wait, wait..."

Seokjin bit down causing Jimin to whimper and yelp, clutching onto the older's arm. "... Lemme see your hand."

Seokjin licked the mark he left before parting his swollen red lips. "... Why?" he asked.

"... Just let me see them," Jimin asked, grabbing his hand. He looks at his fingers before looking at him. "... You're not wearing your ring. The one I gave you on our anniversary."

"... I stopped wearing it after we broke up," Seokjin went back to his chest after replying, pecking around the pale skin. "Why do you ask."

Jimin lost his breath, feeling Seokjin's lips get lower and lower. "Stop- stop moving," he shook his head. "... You didn't give it away did you?"

"I gave it to Namjoon..."

Jimin sat up causing Seokjin to look up in confusion. "... When? When did you give it to him? Did he put it on?"

"... I gave it to him a couple days ago," Seokjin sat up as well, in front of the now flustered Jimin. "I told him to keep it, so he wore it..."

Jimin immediately went to put back on his shirt.

"... We need to go back to my house."

[unedited]