Euthymia

Playing Cupid

Kyungsoo stops by The Taboo for an eclair and a status update. Despite all he accomplished during his nightly rendezvous in Itaewon, his return to Gangnam is unceremonious at best and completely disregarded at worst. He thinks he deserves a little treat. And a say in pending ploys that could not exist without the crucial information he uncovered.

The black suits don't hold doors open or lay out red carpets for his entrance like a Byun. Most don't hear him enter. Many more didn't know he left. They don't keep tabs on his whereabouts. No congratulations. No show of gratitude for risking his life to protect the pack heir. Not even a hello, good morning, eclair? He helps himself. There is only one left. They started the meeting without him.

"I spoke to Sehun." Suho is saying, sitting at the head of a long, glass table, his cane at his side. "Everything's fine on Jeju Island as of now. Baekhyun's holding up surprisingly well. But with this second hitman on our hands, things are complicated again."

Kyungsoo takes his seat quietly, slipping into the discussion like he was there from the beginning. No eyes on him. A blessing and a curse. He eats his eclair and listens.

"We're this close to solidifying a deal with the Japanese. We should be focusing on expanding our club to different regions and organizing the wedding, but Itaewon has made it clear they don't plan on giving this assassination a rest. We might have to hit back."

"We have their hitman; we can use him as an ultimatum."

Suho waves off the black suit. "No, they don't care about him. Trust me, Park Chanyeol is not that important. If we want to hit them where it hurts, we aim for the heart of the territory – The Henhouse."

"What are you thinking?"

"Something quick with minimal risk. Maybe a couple warning shots to start? Kyungsoo knows the area; he'll organize something."

At least a dozen pairs of scrutiny lock onto him. He freezes mid bite, the eclair hanging out of his mouth. Frown lines and scoffs disguised as coughs. Him. It's always him. And he's not even an alpha.

"Yes, Sir."

"Take a couple guys with you. Jongin and Minseok, perhaps. Go tonight. Don't let them see your face this time."

Kyungsoo stands up fast, too fast, trying to make a point of determination but really producing an embarrassingly loud screech of his chair. If the black suits notice his show of dominance – his outward chest and upward chin – they make no indication. There is a deafening silence that smothers the room, all the alphas looking between each other and knowing things he doesn't. Smelling things he can't. Understanding things that don't need to be said because pheromones say enough. Kyungsoo can only imagine the feeling.

Then Jongin stands – a tall, slender man who never talks sitting directly to Suho's left. The short, stubby man beside him follows suit. Minseok – the one with spiky hair who never smiles. Both alphas. Both grumbling and frowning with reluctance. They join Kyungsoo at the other end of the table.

"I won't let you down, Sir."

"Don't tell me, show me. You're all dismissed."

The room moves as one, chairs skidding across the floor, polished shoes shuffling through the doors. Jongin and Minseok walk on Kyungsoo's heels, following him to his car. They haven't said a word to each other. No discussions of plans. Kyungsoo opens his mouth to take charge, but Minseok beats him to it.

"Let's get the Tommy guns. We can't use your car for a drive-by; we need a disposable vehicle."

Then Jongin jumps in before Kyungsoo, the one who never speaks conveniently having something to say at the same time as him.