danger

14: guests

♡

Minjun sat on Seokjin's lap. His knuckles were white, clasping tightly onto the material of the man's sweatshirt. His legs hung, painstakingly swaying over the elder's thighs and his dejected, sulky face was warmly snug under Seokjin's arm.

The teenager didn't care to look up, to contribute to the intimidation-filled dining room. The stinging from his knee acted as a pastime, Minjun finding himself forgetting even about Namjoon's warning on the four women in front of him.

As a theoretical border, Yoongi and Namjoon sat on the majestic dining chairs on either side of their sniper and their little guest.

"Your intentions are still unclear-" Namjoon skinned open a picturesque box of cigarettes- "and I'm afraid that if you cannot state your reasoning for holding this meeting then I shall have to ask you to leave."

One of the women, a slim lady with washed-out lavender hair — as Minjun had noticed and appreciated as they entered the house earlier — cleared her throat and fished out from her blazer a crumpled piece of paper.

As the smell of Namjoon's blown vapour molested Minjun's nose, he dug his face deeper into Seokjin's armpit, wiggling his nose to rid it of the sensitivity. The chef's body vibrated momentarily as he fell amused by the situation, and laid a sympathetic hand around the boy's middle.

"Take a look at the printout," the woman said, skidding it across the mahogany table until it hit the sleeve of the boy's leader.

She proceeded, "there's been a series of break-ins and murders within Seoul recently, I believe four in just a day last week. Originally it was residential areas, and then government officials families, and most recently; gangs. Yesterday, both SEVENTEEN and Big Bang were charged and as far as we know, nobody survived."

"Alright, and what is it that you believe we can help with here," Namjoon spoke, eyes studying over the list of residential addresses and names on the sheet of paper, "you looking for a place to hide?"

"We don't exactly have much space here," Yoongi joined, eyes narrowing at the shortest woman who'd been hard-nosed and soundless the entire time.

Moonbyul, smoothing her fingers through the knots that jumbled the tips of her violet hair, sighed and shook her head.

"No, nothing like that."

She smiled, leaning forward on her chair with her hand confidently holding her head above the table. The three ladies behind her beamed pleasantly as the men intensified their attention on the curious actions.

"We just wanted to warn you," Moonbyul said, her cherry-red lips pulled into a whimsical smirk, "your WI-FI has gone down, Namjoon."

The woman fell back against her chair after her announcement, the leader of BTS squinting in confusion at the unforeseen and bewildering piece of information.

"What the fuck," Jimin breathed out a snicker.

Namjoon dug his phone out of his pocket with fast-paced hands, fingers diligently opening it up. He inspected the screen, moving to turn on his mobile data upon noticing that the gang leader opposite him was accurate.

He looked up as it registered, making eye contact with the cryptic eyes of Moonbyul as she gazed seductively through her lashes at him.

And then the alerts, the vibrations and rackets that blew his phone up in a second.

'FRONT DOOR 1 HAS BEEN BREACHED'

'BEDROOM 3 HAS BEEN BREACHED'

'MOTION DETECTED; BACKDOOR'

'BEDROOM 6 HAS BEEN BREACHED'

'BATHROOM 2 HAS BEEN BREACHED'

"What is this?" Namjoon snapped and he launched the device onto the table. Seokjin, heart dropping at the sound of the emergency warnings from the phone, stiffened his grip on the quivering boy in his arms.

Minjun peeped up at the elder from between his arm and his chest, misunderstanding the boisterous noises and the anxious ambience. Seokjin met his eyes, disturb and dread flashing through them as the chef attempted to keep calm.

"It's okay," he whispered, "don't move."

Fortunately, his words had gone unheard by the rest of the room, what with the immature men in his group shouting and drawing weapons. Seokjin stayed still, unwilling to get the boy and himself into danger, so he allowed the criminals around him to defend them — which he knew they'd do even if their life depended on it.

"Answer me!" Namjoon ejected, still worryingly seeing the carefree females.

Wheein stood from her seat, strutting closer to the aggressive man and grinned, "us, and the very lovely assassins outside these doors, want our ranks back."

"You're so desperate, you're willing to try and kill us over ranks? Ever thought you could just be fucking better at your job?" Yoongi shouted, thumping his hands down onto the table with a malicious scowl on his face.

"This just makes it easier," Solar shrugged, casually pulling a pocket pistol from the back of her dressy trousers. She raised her arm and shut one of her eyes, capturing her bottom lip within her teeth and holding herself completely still.

At the end of her barrel stood a blank-faced Namjoon.

The second she stroked her finger against the pistol's trigger, six guns varying in size from troubling to traumatising stood up, aimed at the four women.

No one moved, not a single person twitched apart from the frightened teenager on Seokjin's lap. On his sides were Namjoon and Hoseok, with a protective Yoongi standing directly in front of the two unarmed men.

Minjun inhaled the friendly scent that wafted out from Seokjin's clothes, delicately tranquillizing his mind and taking his thoughts away from the ominous silence that penetrated the dining room like a disease. His hands released their numbing hold on his hoodie, basking in the warmth that he felt around his waist under the chef's arms.

But, when the gunfire started up, accompanied by the ear-piercing screeches of hurt protests and slamming furniture, his hands clasped tight enough to draw blood in his palms.