Mafia Min

— Bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

The personal informant irritated Yoongi too much: the eternal smug grin, the undisguised desire in his eyes that turned caramel in the sun, the provocative shade of pink hair.

And yet, he couldn't live without Jimin; this guy was too good, able to flawlessly gain the trust of those the mafia pointed out, seduce them, and shoot them without a tremor in his hand, if necessary.

And Min also knew perfectly well that the younger man was in love with him. This confession wasn't spoken out loud, but it cut through the understanding of Jimin's actions, sometimes desperate, insane, driven only by his extreme love.

Yoongi was used to channeling everything that flowed into his hands into the right direction. And so he took advantage of this, too.

The cold-blooded flow of thoughts was interrupted by the roar of a motorcycle pulling up to the house, followed by the velvety sound of footsteps, almost cat-like, creeping up - and only after that by the feeling of peach-scented hands resting on the man's shoulders.

"Were you waiting for me?" purred a voice, intoxicating even to someone as unattainable as Min.

"Not you. The information I sent you for," the elder responded coldly, clutching a cigar in his long fingers, instead of which he wanted to squeeze the neck of the guy standing behind his chair.