“Hey, Namjoon, wait up!” Seokjin pounds after the man, whose quick stride and long legs are efficiently eating up the distance.

It’s truly dark now. The streetlights are shedding dim orange light and swaying gently in strong gusts of wind that blow Seokjin’s hair into his eyes. Namjoon stops abruptly below the streetlight despite showing no indication of having heard the calls. His arms are crossed and the fingers or his left hand are visibly digging into his right bicep.

Back by the apartment building, Hoseok and Taehyung jog down the two flights of stairs and only pause for a second before catching sight of their two friends standing on the corner.

“Namjoon looks like he’s about to blow his top,” Taehyung says lowly as they approach. Seokjin has the man pulled into a half hug and is visibly speaking, but they’re too far away to hear him.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this pissed off,” Hoseok agrees. “I don’t really blame him, though. I’m pretty pissed too.” He doesn’t even have to turn to know that Taehyung’s nodding vigorously. When Hoseok got the call from Jungkook about an hour ago, he listened incredulously as his friend explained how he and Jimin were jumped on their way home from Dark & Wild by three members of the Aces gang.

He was watching the newest Avengers movie with Taehyung in their apartment at the time. Jungkook’s words were short and clipped over the phone, but Hoseok had way too much practice reading between the lines and instantly knew that he was hurting, and more surprising, that the fight scared him. Well, more like the fact that two of the Aces went for Jimin while he was distracted scared and angered him in equal measures. Hoseok immediately relayed the story to a lazily curious Taehyung, who choked on his popcorn, smacked the remote until the TV went dark, and flipped off the couch in search of his shoes.

The drive to Jimin’s apartment dragged on, their worry making time pass syrup-fast. Taehyung called Namjoon and Seokjin on the way to make sure they knew. Sure enough, Jungkook had just finished talking to both of them and Seokjin was already threading his little hybrid car through what little traffic was out this time of night. Namjoon’s voice was deep and menacing during their short conversation, surprising Taehyung a little. The man often appeared stern and serious, but turned into a big softie if you talked about art, Seokjin, puppies, or anything he was interested in, really. Now, though, things couldn’t have sounded more serious if one of them were actually dying.

It was to everyone’s relief that Jungkook and Jimin were battered but alive when they burst into the apartment. Jungkook was unsurprisingly reticent, but they managed to wrangle the full story out of him while Taehyung followed Jimin into the kitchen. The retelling only worked to anger Namjoon further.

Seokjin pulled him over to the wall, leaving Hoseok and Jungkook to talk. “How come you weren’t as pissed after getting arrested as you are right now?” He slipped his fingers into the pockets of Namjoon’s jacket and tugged on the fabric, keeping the man’s focus on him. 

“Getting caught by Jiho was my own damn fault,” Namjoon rumbled. “I’ve always tried to avoid gang , but that doesn’t matter. My friends, our friends, were hurt in more ways than one and that’s something I can’t forgive.”

This made Seokjin smile. His anger came from kindness. “I thought you were reformed, though.” It’s actually a point of pride for Namjoon now. Not being able to paint entire walls was incredibly difficult for him at first, but he’s come to peace with it. And the owner of his apartment building’s decision to commission Namjoon for murals on a few of her properties certainly helped. He never intends to see the inside of a jail cell again.

“This is different,” Namjoon responded heatedly. “Friends are always the exception.”

“You ing idiot!” Hoseok snapped, eyes caught on the gauze taped to various parts of Jungkook’s body. No doubt there were more bandages and bruises concealed by his clothes. He was supposed to be a runner, not a fighter. Jungkook was the guy who did his own thing, who didn’t give a and could outrun the police nine times out of then. Hoseok was easily reminded of the time the idiot landed himself in the hospital after their first run-in with the Aces. Those s were bad news all around.

The murmur of voices bled in from the kitchen, making Hoseok bite back his next insult. Of course Jungkook couldn’t run when he had Jimin to protect. The barista is practically a saint: he makes delicious coffee, somehow dates Jungkook, and puts up with their sorry criminal asses on a daily basis. Hoseok can’t fault his childhood friend for looking out for Jimin. But god, it’s so frustrating that both of them are out there and vulnerable.

Namjoon was getting more wound up in the corner, pinned down by a perceptive Seokjin. As deep as their concern runs, it’s a bit of a relief when Jimin kicks them out. Namjoon’s out like a shot, leaving Seokjin to chase him down, Hoseok and Taehyung following shortly thereafter.

Which brings them to now, with Namjoon standing under the streetlight like a lonely pillar and Seokjin attached to his side like a creeping vine.

“So what’s the plan?” Hoseok and Taehyung step up next to them. Seokjin turns to face them, but doesn’t detach.

The wind blows Namjoon’s hood onto his head, finally forcing him to break his thunderous frown. Seokjin laughs at him and tugs the hood up further so it hides Namjoon’s eyes. Namjoon yanks the hood back down and glowers. Seokjin just looks back, eyebrow raised. Hoseok and Taehyung watch as Namjoon almost immediately cracks and rearranges his face into something slightly more pleasant.

“Plan? For helping our friends? Any day now,” Taehyung prods.

After a long silence, Namjoon says, “I might have an idea.” His expression tells them all that it’s probably a terrible idea, but against an actual gang they don’t have a lot of options anyway.

“Let’s hear it,” Seokjin encourages him. Namjoon looks down at him and brushes the bangs from his eyes. “Okay.”

And that’s how Hoseok, Taehyung, and Namjoon find themselves running through dark streets and alleys, sneakers pounding on the cement with heavy bags bouncing against their hips or backs.

“What am I even doing?” Hoseok whispers to himself. There are two Aces laughing just around the corner, tossing spray paint cans into the air. Their newest tag gleams wetly against the brick, an ugly black skull surrounded by obscenities. Hoseok is crouched up against the wall, peering around the corner like a voyeur. He watches and waits. The guys laugh some more and then light up. “C’mon!” he groans, leaning against the cool brick with his shoulder. An eternity later, the two gangsters flick their smokes away and traipse out of the alley like it’s a goddamn red carpet.

Hoseok starts a ten-count the second they turn the far corner. When he mentally hits ten, he straightens and runs for the tag. “How the hell did they get so far up?” The graffiti goes at least three feet above his head. “ me.” Grimacing, he yanks the bandana around his neck to cover his nose and mouth before ping his backpack. With a can of white and another of neon pink in both hands, he’s ready to go.

It’s easy enough to cover about three quarters of the tag, but the top will take some doing. Ah. Of course. The rattling and metal clangs of Hoseok’s unruly climb onto the lid of a closed dumpster would usually send him running, but not tonight. His goal is not to be subtle. Ninja-tagger Hoseok stayed home. Instead, they get -newbie-tagger Hoseok, who takes way too much pleasure in whiting out the Aces tags and writing, in bright pink, THE ACES CAN MY and then surrounding the whole loopy mess in cartoon hearts.

The loud thuds of his boots stomping over the flimsy dumpster lid echo down the alley. Yelling and catcalls echo back and Hoseok can’t help but to grin despite the low level of terror-fueled adrenaline that’s sending his heart racing.

The two Aces members, men in their early twenties suffering form a bad case of snapback, turn the corner. Their strides are purposeful and both look disgruntled. Their faces when they spot him quickly change to idiotically angry. “Hey! What the hell are you doing, ? This is Aces territory!”

Grinning, Hoseok hops down from the dumpster and shoves the paint back into his bag. “Just leaving you a little gift. Catch you on the flip side.”

He flips them off and runs.

“Get back here!”

Taehyung giggles maniacally and chucks his empty yellow can at the three Aces members barreling after him.  Apparently they don’t appreciate his addition to their territory tag: ACES – NEXT TIME YOU SEE YOUR MOM, TELL HER I SAID HI. And then just in case they were too stupid to get it, he added a giant GET ED off to the side in eye-popping blues and purples. Not his most balanced or intricate work, but it sure does the trick.

It did occur to Taehyung that this is the first time he’s actually graffiti’d something. Yes, he has a rather long history of spray painting buildings without permission, but he’s always created art. The pieces he creates always bring him a sense of pride and satisfaction. What he’s doing tonight is straight up vandalism. Looking at the insulting words obscuring the skull, he found himself surprised at the sense of vicious satisfaction and glee that made laughter bubble up from his chest and catch the attention of the Aces.

The next territory tag is two blocks over on the east side of an office building, according to Seokjin’s sources. Sources that Taehyung hopes to god are not more elderly residents of his apartment building. All he has to do it hit the tags that start closest to the main building and move outward into the city, pissing as many Aces off as possible. It’s almost sad how easy it is, in the end.

Taehyung hasn’t quite decided which phrase he’ll use to deface the next spot, but finding inspiration shouldn’t be too difficult.

Namjoon’s raggedy jacket is covered in a fine mist of rainbow colors and his hand is starting to cramp, but he’s gone through more pain for less. The home base of the Aces is squat and dark, too far away from the feeble glow of the streetlights. Every side is covered in layers and layers of paint; illegible words, half-covered pictures, drip marks and smears. There’s no time to whitewash everything; Hoseok and Taehyung can only draw the Aces away for so long. Not to mention there may or may not be a few gang members kicking it back in their home base, oblivious to the blitz on their territory markers.

He works quickly and quietly. The first order of business is to slip around the building and paint two parallel stripes of white across everything, just to piss them off. The areas where he plans to do more work are bombed with whatever background color works best to offset the existing writing and make the new additions highly visible.

According to sources (that Seokjin has left nameless), the main door is on the south side, so that’s where Namjoon sets up camp. With the help of a few crates, he can reach all sides of the door.

Let the fun begin.

Namjoon slaps his safety glasses on and drags his bag so it hangs in front of him for easy access. ARREST US PLEASE and a giant arrow pointing down to the doors goes right on top. GANGSTER WANNABES and CAN’T GET IT UP go on either side of the door. The east side of the building is decorated with letters three feet tall spelling out VIOLENT THUGS and - MOTHERERS in eye-searing yellow and green. The north side is treated to fine cursive HOMOPHOBIC S, complimented with CALL 911.

By the time he gets to the final side, Namjoon’s panting and dripping with sweat from being on high alert and working as quickly as possible. It feels like the paint has scorched his throat and lungs and his fingers are going to fall off, but he’s not finished yet. Hoseok and Taehyung have done a great job and he spares a moment to worry about them. The west wall of the building faces the street that gets the most traffic, so he’s got to make it good and attention-getting.

Maybe a little 4 KIDS, and then throw in some CALL THE COPS! It could use a dash of LOOKING FOR A GOOD TIME? ASK FOR THE ACES! up across the top in pink and red with a puckered pair of lips for the dot of the exclamation mark. And just because he’s feeling vindictive, he leaves one of the Aces’ skull tags intact and only alters it: there’s now a bloody hatchet protruding from the rounded dome of the skull, cracking it down the middle.

Wiping a dirty sleeve across his equally spattered face, Namjoon tugs his safety glasses off and drops them into his bag. The building is trashed, though personally, he thinks it’s much improved. Something’s missing, bugging him in the back of his mind and making it impossible for Namjoon to turn and walk away. Instead, he stands and stares at the building, eyes roaming the colored brick that contrast with the piles of trash and leaves brushed up against the walls. There are dirty beer bottles, some shattered, some whole, off in a pile by the corner. The windows are dingy, dark, and- ah, the windows. That’s it.

Namjoon deliberately circles the building and blacks out every single pane of glass he can find.

Without looking back, he drops the empty paint can to the cement and disappears into the night.