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After they had cleaned all the tables and swept the floor, Yoongi gestured Taehyung to follow him behind the counter and out the backdoor into the small backyard. In fifteen minutes they had to be at Namjoon's.

"You have a Kawasaki ninja?" the younger asked amazed.

"Yeah, bought it after the last job." He handed the crimson the second helmet and put on his own. "You comin'?"

With wide eyes and a big grin, the mathematician put on his helmet and climbed on the machine, slinging his arms around him. He started the engine and slowly rolled out of the backyard and onto the street. When he let the gear-shift snap a little harder, the 128 PS kicked in and the machine jumped forward. He could feel Taehyung laugh behind him, and he smiled satisfied. When he had seen the other crying in the stall, he had been confused. Why would his lovely redhead cry? But when the other had asked him what he was for him, he kind of had understood. All the girls he normally did not notice, because he was caught up in solving a problem or talking to his friend, must have made him realize something. What exactly that was, he did not know. But judging from the question the younger had surprised him with, it had something to do with his habit of just doing one-night-stands. Maybe he had come to realize that his loneliness could not be eliminated with frivolous and diverting hookups.

Well, for now, he wanted and needed him to be happy. And what better way was there to forget about shit than speeding through the city on a motor bike?

Ten minutes later, he had taken some twists to stretch their drive, they came to stand in front of the programmer's apartment block. He stopped the motor and propped the vehicle up on the stator, getting off his helmet. Shaking his head, he made the blond strands fall back into place and turned around to the younger.

"This was awesome!" the crimson blurted out when he had gotten off his helmet.

"Well, after this job you can buy one of those, too."

He went over to the keypad and pressed the buttons for Namjoon's apartment. After some seconds he heard the buzzer and pushed open the door.

"You comin'?" he asked the still staring mathematician, making the younger pop out of his thoughts.

"Sure," the latter answered and followed him to the elevator.

When the doors opened, Namjoon already waited for them in the doorframe, gesturing them to come in.

"Get dressed," the programmer ordered and pointed over to the coffee table with the two neat stacks of clothes.

"Do we have special names for the mission?" the crimson asked curious while he stripped off his clothes.

"I wanted to discuss this, too," Namjoon replied and pulled the black turtleneck over his head, "It might feel a little strange, but I'd suggest using different names, just in case I miss anything in terms of the security system."

"I've always worked with nicknames," the oldest told them, "Sometimes it simply was our profession, but mostly I was called Suga."

"Okay," Taehyung said exited, "Then Namjoon will be brain and I'll be V."

"V?" the elders asked synchronously, turning around to the youngest.

"For our victory," the crimson grinned and made a peace sign.

Yoongi shrugged his shoulders and fixed the watch around his arm over the sleeve. If their youngest needed the feeling to be in a movie, he would be the last one to object. On his first job he had felt like that, too. It had been a project under Zico, who had also given him the name Suga, justifying it with his white as sugar skin. Having The King call him sugar had been nothing he had appreciated, but the name stuck with him. Back then, it had been a private safe of someone Zico had wanted gone, but after a few more jobs the barista had become independent and had worked with everyone who consulted him. With the budget of three robberies he had bought the café next to campus and had started as barista to launder the money of his jobs. Yes, Zico had taught him much illegal shit. But he still did not know why The King had this special liking in him. It had always made things easier for him. Well, as easy as it could be for a fourteen-year-old on the dark streets of Seoul.

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