Dancing with danger

chapter five

TAEHYUNG

The credits roll. Tae-min is already half-gone, eyelids heavy, breathing slow and even against Taehyung's chest. He won't sleep for anyone else; Taehyung knows the ritual and lifts him without fuss, carrying him down the hall like a private debt being repaid. Chin-sun watches them go and murmurs a soft goodnight before slipping into her room.

From the corridor Taehyung's voice travels back, short and organized. "Jungkook — go fetch Kai. Smoke room in ten. Don't dilly-dally." The order hangs there; they all know duty follows a command.

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"You've got to be kidding me," Jungkook muttered when he pushed the door open a short while later, Kai trailing behind him. Arm wrapped in a rough, white bandage. Jungkook's eyes landed on the sight inside and he nearly growled. "Seriously? You guys can't keep this shit in your rooms?"

On the couches the house looks like a family portrait gone theatrical. Jin is perched on Namjoon's lap, quiet conversation curled between them. J-Hope lounges against Yoongi's side, half laughing, half observing. Namjoon's smirk is practiced. "Don't be jealous, Jungkook-ah. I'm sure somebody out there will love your lonely ass." He grins like he's offering charity.

Jungkook flips a middle finger with theatrical disdain and drops into a seat. Kai slips in beside the other couple, the bandage on his arm bunched and troublesome. Yoongi doesn't bother looking up from his phone. "How's the arm?" he asks, casual as a status update.

Kai blinked, surprised, then answered quietly, "Better."

Yoongi hummed. Jungkook scoffed at the dry exchange. "Wow. Riveting conversation." The comment earned him a synchronized eye roll.

The door opened again. Taehyung walked in, his eyes sweeping over the couples before narrowing. "You couldn't wait until your rooms to do this shit?" His tone dripped disdain as he claimed the last unoccupied couch.

Not our fault you guys don't wanna hook up," J-Hope tosses, light and loud, aiming for levity. Jungkook and Taehyung share a sideways look; Jungkook feigns a shiver. "Nah. I'll pass."

Taehyung flicks jungkook off — a petty, human gesture — and then something in the room changes. It is not loud. It is the way a lightbulb goes out: abrupt, complete. He narrows his eyes and his smile dies. Everyone who's been in the same room with him for long enough feels the air thicken; the banter curdles into business.

"What's the report on the warehouse?" His voice is flat, efficient.

Jin's reply is tidy and factual. "Goods were intact. Nothing touched."

Yoongi snaps the phone away and gives the read. "Looks like it wasn't theft. Rage-baiting. He wanted us to react."

Taehyung leans back, arms folding like cross-referenced conclusions. "They've caught on. We change strategy." He speaks to Namjoon now—delegation within hierarchy. Namjoon nods the acknowledgement of a task accepted. "I'm working on something. I'll report back."

Taehyung's jaw flexed. His next words carried a lethal calm. "One of my boys has been... careless. Maybe even traitorous."

Command issued, no need for persuasion. "Find out who it is," he grits. The order is both an investigation and a promise of consequences. He crosses his legs, settling into a posture that signals patience and menace in equal measure.

   Final operational line, delivered like a conclusion in a case file: "We're going to pay our little drug lord a visit. Someone's become an ungrateful brat." It's casual—almost conversational—yet it carries the weight of finality. Everyone hears both the threat and the choreography that will follow.