one jump ahead

( dvyoongi )

Even the most skilled had to be caught every once in a while. Or this was what Jeon Jungkook told himself every time he was apprehended by the police. He was lucky enough to wiggle out of it, when it happened, by either playing out his homeless orphan sob story -- fake tears and all -- or by weaving a fantastic story of how he was a troubled youth, but had now seen the error of his ways. Adults ate that shit up. And they also had no way to ID him, so it’d always end in inevitably letting the boy go, assuming he was a minor.

It seemed to be heading that same direction in this particular situation, until he heard the words ‘call your parents’. And even after explaining the whole dead parents thing, the burly policeman refused to let Jungkook go, without an adult accompanying him, stating that it was too dark for a kid to be out and about by himself. Trying to keep  his eyes from rolling out of his skull, he went through his phone’s contacts, attempting to find someone to dig him out of his grave. But he hardly knew any adults, let alone any that could get away with looking like a responsible guardian.

But then eyes fell upon a single phase. #1 hottie. Otherwise known as Min Yoongi. He was a respectable grown-up, who even owned suits. Not to mention the guy he had probably the highest form of a Thing for. These were reasons enough for Jungkook to dial the male’s number, anxiously waiting for him to pick up, and explain what had happened. “H-hyung?” he spoke in a low, jittery tone, attempting to keep the cops from learning that the person on the other line was merely an acquaintance (one who didn’t like him very much at all, actually), rather than a close friend.

( dvseungwan )

There was only one thing Jungkook loved, besides himself, and it wasn’t even a person. One night, while sleeping soundly in an alleyway, he kicked awake, when he heard some rustling sounds coming from his backpack. Unafraid to collect some battle wounds over his possessions, he picked up a nearby broken bottle, ready to attack any perpetrator dumb enough to fuck with him. But instead of a scavenger, he found a white ball of fluff. A small dog, on the verge of starvation, looking for something, anything to eat. It struck a rare chord within the boy, remembering how he used to be in that exact same position not that long ago. Though he refused to share his food with anyone, he dug out some sweet potato and fed it to the animal, offering affection in the form of petting. Thus, they became inseparable.

Except for the few times, when the dog, who was now dubbed Bandit (haha, get it?), would run off.

Most of the time, he obeyed, and could even hold his own against people Jungkook occasionally got into altercations with. But a dog still remained a dog, and could get carried away by his own flighty thoughts, making his owner have to chase him all around town. Sometimes, it’d be easy, toned legs from years of escaping the grasps of all those who attempted to capture him easily carrying him, and his pet would be back to him in a matter of minutes. Then other times, such as today, he’d be running through labyrinth seeming alleyways for what could be hours.

( sumindv )

Breaking into apartments was far too easy. All one needed was a lock picking kit, which strangely enough, was one of the few things Jungkook had bought in his years of living. But maybe buying it with a stolen credit card disregarded whatever sincerity had been behind the act. It was times like these, where he found himself on his knees outside and jiggling a tension wrench inside a doorknob, with neighbors walking by, as if they had seen nothing, when the teenage was grateful to not have a place of residence. He’d rather give up the comfort of a bed, than have to worry about people trying to steal his things. Because no one ever stole from a homeless person. Those without places to live, they looked out for one another. But in a neighborhood, it was every man for himself. It was rather funny that a thief could have more honor than a normal, law-abiding person.

Even if he was ever dumb enough to want to live somewhere, it certainly wouldn’t be in this place. It was full of stuffy wannabe rich assholes, who stuck their nose up at everything. Not to mention that it was somehow always winter here. What was up with that? Jungkook had no idea, and he didn’t want to stick around to find out. Breaking into Arendelle was a rare occurrence, due to the male not enjoying the feel of the place, but most of the residents had a least a few expensive goods, which he could pawn off. So glove-cloaked hands worked diligently to open one house, the next on his to-do list, and he had almost just gotten it, when footsteps sounded behind him.

( dvheeyeon ) 

Street’s like a jungle -- so call the police. Relying on a stolen MP3 player and stolen headphones for music was certainly interesting. Thankfully, Jungkook was open-minded, and didn’t mind the Alternative sounds from before he was alive blasting through his ears. In fact, he had grown used to, and even enjoyed, the variety of sounds the small device offered him. He almost felt bad for snatching it up, from an older gentleman, in the first place. Almost being the key word. Sometimes, he dreamed of giving it back to the person in question, and telling him ‘thanks for the tunes’, but that would definitely not go over well. After being on the streets for as long as he had, he learned a few things, and giving back what was once taken was never a welcome gesture, no matter how seemingly kind it was. Once a thief, always a thief, once a poor boy, always a poor boy. This was the life Jungkook led, and he was more than perfectly fine with it.

The best place to steal, by far, was the line of shops set up outside for tourists and bored locals. It was crowded, which made for easy pick-pocketing, and best of all, everyone forgot his face, no matter how often he came through. It was easy to forgive and forget a handsy teenager, with an innocent seeming profile, though no innocence remained at all within Jeon Jungkook. Most adults would just mutter ‘oh, he’s just a kid, let his parents take care of him’, before brushing him off. And a swift kick to the face would take care of most menacing ones. As was beginning to become habit, he didn’t even have anything he needed, not really. More of a compulsion to nick people’s belongings from under their feet and sneak off with whatever it was. But money was always nice, he thought to himself, as he scoped out everyone, stuck to each other, like gum to the bottom of your shoe.

( txt: not john ) you were filthy dirty, how could you expect me to not force you into the tub?

( txt: not john ) oh good god. just....control yourself, my love--

[ ✉ ➨ big sis ] but i can bathe myself -- i don’t need help!