Serendipitous (San x Reader)

Dastardly Deeds

   1,181 words. Warnings: None

          "Well, well, well," I hear the venomous voice of Johnny. 

              We turn a little to see him standing at what appears to be a hidden doorway, hands in his pockets and that constant cool and misleading look on his face. 

              "I've been looking all over for you two."

~Y/n's Pov~

             "You're very tough to track down, ya know," the sinister man continues, beginning to walk around us in a circle. "Do explain sometime how you managed to break free earlier. That just absolutely amazes me," he says with that villainous chuckle. 

              "Look, you can do whatever you want with me. Just let Y/n go, okay? This has nothing to do with her," San begins saying just as four figures dressed in head-to-toe black emerge from- from the ceiling....

              "Oh, no, she knows too much for me to let her go now. Alas, Jaemin made me promise not to kill you. For now, that is. As long as San, signs power over to Jaemin, you can both be on your way after the Coronation," Johnny says, impending doom following every syllable. 

              "You wanna know why I stalled in signing over? Because I know the second Jaemin gets that crown on his head you're gonna off him just like you did to my dad. Your own brother for goodness' sake," San bursts, admittedly heated. 

              I never knew he had it in him. The warmth emminating from him and the slight scowl on his face is just much different than how I've ever imagined him. Erhm, not- not that I do.

              "Ouch. That's how you talk to your uncle? I'm hurt. Shocked," Johnny feigns offense, holding a hand to his heart and his head low. "Wait until your mother hears about this. Oh, yeah, she's gone too," he adds, dropping the act.

              "I bet you're behind that, too. Aren't you " San asks, more rhetorically than literally.

              "We can't be too sure, can we? Alright, let's bring them in," Johnny says motioning his ceiling ninja people to come get us. 

              Then, out of nowhere, instant darkness. For whatever reason, all of the lanterns in the room went out.  Is this part of the smuggling? Does this make it easier? What's-? My thoughts are cut off when San whispers something I didn't quite catch.

              "What," I whisper back, leaning into his face as anyone would when trying to hear better. On a completely unrelated note, he smells amazing.

              "Hang on," he says tightening his grip on my thighs, catching me perfectly off guard. 

              Suddenly, he takes off running and I don't hesitate to hang on. I close my eyes as the steady wind makes them water. I've no clue where we're going, but I trust him. After a few minutes we're stopped by Newton's third law; object a met object b. We ran into a wall or some wall-like structure, and just as we were stumbling back fell into another one. Great, a dead end! We love that- not!

              He spun in a circle and we were able to see a small bit of light flowing from around the corner. We trotted towards it, finding the source of illumination to be a sky light. How promising. There are just barely rusted steel doors, one on the left and one on the right, set in cement. I hop off of San's admittedly toned back and instantly approach the wheel on one of them, careful not to put any weight on my ankle. 

              San approaches the other wheel but hesitates. We agree to listen for what's going on on either side before making a decision. Pressing my ear against the dusty frame, I get nothing but silence for a few seconds. That is until I hear muffled voices and scuffling. 

              "So, what's behind door number one," San says in a comedic, game show host manner.

              "Uh, I think they're on the other side of this door," I say with inevitable panic. 

              "Death," he says in a cheerful tone. "And behind door number two," he trails off pressing his ear to the other door.  "Absolute silence. What'll it be, Y/n," he continues holding an imaginary microphone up to my face. 

              "Hmm, I think we'll take door number two," I say playing into his act. It was actually kind of nice; forgetting why we're here in the first place.

              "Door number two, folks. Today we'll be going home with," he pauses for a quick drumroll for dramatic effect. "Our lives! Unfortunately, we left our dignity in the hallway somewhere."

              San twists the wheel and at first it doesn't budge. He resets his stance and gets a better hold of the ancient mechanism and turns it again, but to no avail. He goes for a third try and I notice the way his hair is slightly out of place, and how his jawline flexed as he exerted a little more force.

              The moonlight mixed with the flitting dust particles is absolutely wondrous for his features. His sleeves rolled up just enough to watch his veins rise while he struggles to get the wheel to move. The way his eyes sparkle while he stares at me with the subtle look of confusion and amusement. Oh! Wait! I-!

              "I know the view is nice, but it'd be even better if you were up close helping me and all," he says cracking a smirk.

             "Right! Sorry," I apologize, going to grab the other side of the wheel and pull. 

              After a few tries we hear the gears squeak. Happy it worked, we keep going. A bit of elbow grease and a few swear words later, the lock was completely undone. Using our collective body weight, we push the door open. 

              "Geez! How much does this door weigh," I ask out of angst, feeling my body heat rise from the task.

              "Well, the average steel door is about 185 pounds, but I imagine this one is heavier given we're in a dungeon of sorts. I'd say around 230 pounds? Or 104 kilograms I suppose," San says with a good level of confidence, surprising me yet again.

              We hear voices and footsteps approaching quickly. The fear was enough to give us a little extra strength. The door moved only about a centimeter, but at least it's something. San turns himself around and uses his foot to kick the door further, and effectively so. I continue to push with my torso as he continues to kick it down. 

              With the last heave, I fall unexpectedly through the door. I yell out of instinct and feel San's hand graze mine, but never grasp it fully. 

              "Y/n," I hear him call after me several times as I tumble down a set of stairs. It's the last thing I hear before I arrive at the bottom and go unconscious. 

              "Y/n!"