Min Yoongi 1

— Bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

“You’re only worth sending to your death,” Jimin once again hides his worry behind a rough voice and a displeased look, but in the guy’s touch there is immeasurable care, which they seemed to have long ago sold to the devil.

Yoongi closes his eyes, not making a sound as the alcohol swab painfully touches his split lip from the single punch he missed.

"For the money, actually," he chuckled as the younger one pulled away a little and moved on to the bruised knuckles, continuing to work on them. "We gave them all back, by the way."

“I had no doubt,” Jimin responded, finishing with his hands and, as usual, leaving a light, innocent kiss on his hyung’s fingers.

The elder was always overcome by this touch, the warmth spreading throughout his entire body.

They'd been together since their senior year of high school. Together, they'd wasted their education, throwing university away due to a lack of funds. They'd started a business together—Jimin, a homegrown chemist, became a cook, Yoongi sold drugs and, when necessary, collected debts. And yet, both were pure, deep down despising their clients.

Together against the system, building our own, and ready to follow each other anywhere.

"Shall we celebrate our first ten thousand dollars, my love?" Min pulls the younger man toward him impulsively, greedily, immediately burying his fingers in his hair, which smells of stink.