An Azalea [AHS book 1]

- 1 -

It took me quite some time to finish this story, but here you are. I hope you can enjoy this one as much as Bored Brains.

MMCA is short for Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art.

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Taehyung focus

Taehyung stared at the back of the barista who worked on his order. A snow-white shirt taunted over well-build shoulders and hugged a slim waist, and below the coffee-brown ribbon of the apron, a bubble but caught every onlookers's attention. Delicious. Just like the drinks.

"You know, normal people use these around their neck," a familiar voice from behind knocked his not-so-innocent fantasies out of his head, and a perfectly manicured hand tugged on the tie he wore as a belt. The hand was connected to a tall, broad-shouldered man in a dawn-blue tailored suit, whose plush lips carried a soft smile and whose chestnut hair looked ridiculously soft. "Nice hair color, by the way."

"Jin," Taehyung stated not so intelligent and cross-eyed to look at the mentioned gray hair that hung into his eyes lazily, "I haven't seen you in years!" The counter-boy who tried to hand him his morning Matcha milk with a phone number scribbled on the cup was forgotten.

Jin smiled apologetically at him and let go of the tie. "You're exaggerating. I was only gone about a year. I had business in Hongkong for longer than expected, but now I'm back," the older said, sighing with a dreamy expression plastered all over his handsome features. He must have missed Seoul. Understandable. And Taehyung had to admit that he was impressed by Jin's news. The beauty must have achieved a stunning reputation if he had made it out of Korea.

"How did I merit the honor of your appearance at my favorite café?" he asked the other, knowing exactly why his friend was here.

"The Frappuccino. It's the best," Jin joked and winked at him. Then he leaned over the counter and finally took Taehyung's order from the waiting counter-boy, paying it with a 200'000 Won bill. The boy's shocked face was hilarious, and Taehyung had to suppress a chuckle.

"Keep the change," he said and winked at the big-eyed employee, then he followed his old friend outside where they sat down at one of the tables which were bathed in the relentless sunlight of mid-summer.

"I'm here for a job," Jin eventually confirmed Taehyung's guess, and a knowing half-smile curled the plump lips. The beauty was personal shopper for the Chaebol, but not the kind of personal shopper one might expect to find under this title. He shopped art, with a little plus; he offered his customers a special service that -in privy circles- had gotten the name drag-and-drop-art. If his customer wanted a picture or artefact that they could not get, Jin would find the people who could. And Taehyung had always been his first choice for those jobs, because he was the best of the best.

"What do you need me for?" he asked and leaned onto the table with a grin.

"My new customer is a big fan of traditional Korean art and has taken a liking in a particular Min Kyungkap," the older said.

"An Azalea," Taehyung assumed, given that this work was the most magnificent painting of Min in traditional Korean style.

Jin's smile became even more crooked and his eyes began to gleam with the slightest hint of admiration. "I see, you're perfectly informed. He indeed wants that picture. It's currently-"

"-well-stowed in the archives of the MMCA," Taehyung interrupted. "And to call it a picture would be like calling Michelangelo's David a nice experiment with marble. It's nothing short of a masterpiece, my monetary friend."

Jin snorted at his words but did not seem to be offended. The personal shopper might deal with art, but in the beauty's eyes, a painting was nothing more and nothing less than money. At least that made him treat paintings with the appropriate tenderness.

His friend took a sip of Taehyung's drink before he placed it on the table. Taehyung had almost forgotten about it. "There is a reason I love to work with you," the older said and smiled contently.

The younger grinned. He loved praise, especially since it was so rare in his line of business. "Who's the employer?" he asked and finally sipped on his Matcha milk.

"Kim Namjoon," the beauty answered and reached inside his jacket to get out a slim wallet. "He didn't set a time limit. There's a different condition instead."

Taehyung furrowed his brows. Strange conditions were not to Yoongi's liking.

"He wants to be a part of the operation. He wants to see how you do it," Jin explained and handed him his card. "Call me if you want the job."

Taehyung thought about the uncommon condition while he watched the personal shopper getting up and straightening his outfit. Normally, their customers would not want to have their fingers in the process to have a white vest in case anything went wrong. This was an interesting change.

"And Taehyung," the beauty said, turning around a last time, "you might want to dress more properly if you're willing to meet our money giver?"

Taehyung looked down at himself. A wide white shirt, wide black dress pants, held on his hips by a tie, and sandals. Gucci hugged him comfortably. "I don't see a problem with that," he replied nonchalantly and grinned at his friend. He would do a damn dressing in a suit at those temperatures, no matter how wealthy Mr. Kim Namjoon was. By the way... "How much?" he asked to suffocate any reply of the older.

"He's willing to pay ten million."

"Won?" Taehyung asked in disbelieve.

"Dollar." Jin smirked and buttoned his jacket. "My provision excluded, so it's all yours if you want it."

Taehyung took a deep breath, then he grinned. Yoongi would love this.

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Yoongi's eyes widened comically. "A fucking ten million Dollars for only robbing the MMCA!?" he rasped with his husky voice.

His small skinny friend sat at Taehyung's table with his laptop, the glass of red wine half lifted-up to his lips, staring at him through the messy fringe of black hair in utter disbelieve. Taehyung stared at the almost empty wine bottle instead and sighed. His old friend could as well have lived here by how often he frequented his apartment and minimized his wine collection.

"Yes, indeed," he confirmed, forcing his eyes off the not-so-cheap Bordeaux bottle.

The black-haired relaxed back into his normal state of cunningly glistening black cat eyes and a mischievous smirk. "Which painting are we talking about?"

"An Azalea by Min Kyungkap," Taehyung answered, sitting down across from his partner in crime.

"A formidable choice," Yoongi admitted and pulled his legs up to crotch on the chair, a posture Taehyung knew since he knew Yoongi and that reminded him strangely of a manga he read in his youth. When the older was curled up like this with the black wide hoody around his slim frame and the ripped jeans and bare feet exposing his pale skin, he looked like a rebellious young hacker. Well, he was a hacker. But reducing him to that title would be an understatement. The man was an all-round genius. "We need a band," the older said after some seconds of musing.

"That's what I thought."

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