Second in line, first in line of fire

Backup dancer on the front lines

Hi guys!

How are you? What have you been doing lately?

So, without further ado, here is the next part of the story. I know it might take me a while to post, or to answer to your messages, but don't lose hope! If I ever decide to stop posting, I will tell you about it ;)

'Till then - bare with me? Please?

And also, tell me what you think! I LOVE your comments, no matter how small they are. They always make my day. So - don't be shy! I'll be happy to hear from you.

...

Please.

Sincerely, yours,

Moony <3

 "MINHO!"

Chan was on him in an instant. In the few short moments it took for oldest to stumble across the room, Chan already managed to tighten his hold and drag Minho to kitchen table, remnants of cookies and drinks clanking as he dropped the dancer upper-body first onto its surface.

"I HATE YOU! YOU ARE THE WORST LEADER, YOU HEAR ME?? I HATE YOU! LET ME GO, LET ME..."

He heard him. Even more so, he had a feeling he was in a middle of a bad dream he couldn't wake up from.

This was not Minho he knew.

Eyes filled with frustrated tears, his breath hitched as he listened to ramblings of his upset dongseang.

What will their seniors think? What will... Minho was not like this. Was this his fault?

Chuckle behind him shook him from his stupor.

"Fiery one, aren't you?" RM, if anything, seemed amused as he strolled back across the room. He glanced at Chan, then. There was something sharp swirling in the bottom of his irises. It made younger break out in chills.

"Hold his hands, please."

Minho buckled stronger.

"NO! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FU – AAAAH!"

Silence.

Then, a mumbled: "Wh – what was that?"

RM chuckled again.

"So quiet suddenly, aren't you? Yes, I suppose Yoongi-hyung's spoon will have that effect on a person..."

A spoon? Minho's breath hitched. There was no way that was a spoon, last it was made from the burning trees out of Hell itself. Or at least scorching metal, from the way it seemed to have left a permanent mark on Minho's butt.

"You know, hyung made me make this spoon myself, after I did something he didn't know how to solve." RM chatted happily, slamming the damned object down with the strength that had Minho's eyes tearing up and voice getting stuck in his throat.

"We talked while we worked, and later he used the very spoon I made to punish me with. It was used solely on us, never for cooking... Channie, I have a feeling your dongseang could also profit from the idea, what do you think?"

Two more hits, and Chan felt how his dongseang's hands tightened into fists under his own, muffled screams escaping from where he stuck his head stubbornly into the table surface.

"It seems to have an effect, for sure." he muttered, still not letting go of youngest's arms. RM hummed in response.

"It's a wicked thing, you know. Yoongi-hyung himself cursed the day he took me to make it... I think it was after his own first encounter with the thing."