A dime a dozen (sope/yoonseok)

3

Yoongi turns his head with narrowed eyes at the other while holding his arm protectively against his side. Hope is backing out of the alleyway with a wave, his other hand holding his side where Yoongi had stabbed him. When he reaches the sidewalk, he turns and walks away casually, as if nothing had happened and he isn’t bleeding out of his abdomen. Yoongi carefully hobbles over to his knife, bending down to pick it up only, the movement causing a slight muscle strain in his stomach. When it’s safely back in his pocket, he pulls out his phone and speed dials Namjoon.

Namjoon picks up on the second ring. “Hey, my sugar, my babycakes!”

Yoongi lets a pitiful smile slip onto his face as he leans back against the brick, sliding down to sit with his knees huddled into himself. “Namjoon,” his tone is breathy and urgent.

Namjoon’s attitude changes instantly at the sound. “Yoongi, where are you?”

The raven haired in question looks up though he knows there are no signs in the alley. “Fifth and Main. Usual spot."

“I’ll be there in five,” comes Namjoon’s heavy tone over the receiver and Yoongi nods before hanging up the phone.

It probably wouldn’t even be five minutes, he decides. If he’s in trouble, he knows Namjoon will turn the world upside down to help him. Yoongi blows out a puff of air, running his hand through his hair in frustration. He probably wouldn’t be able to go back to work for a couple weeks now. That’s just great, not that he wouldn’t mind having Namjoon on his beck and call, but that also means that Namjoon wouldn’t be paying much attention to the group—something Hope probably wants. It seems like he’s well educated on their gang, not that it isn’t surprising. Namjoon’s gang rises to the top almost overnight; it’s hard to just ignore that.

A blink later, he can hear the sound of a few people running into the alley. Yoongi hoists himself to his feet, being careful not to move his arm too much, just as Namjoon and two other groupies run up to him.

“Yoongi! What happened?!” Namjoon’s hands come up, but seem hesitant to touch the raven haired. “Who did it?!”

“Why don’t you tell me first why you’re messing around in other territories before consulting me before hand?!” Yoongi yells, his eyebrows furrowing down over his eyes.

“What are you talking about?” Namjoon wonders with a look of confusion before it turns into annoyance. “C’mon, we need to get you fixed up.”

“No!” Yoongi slaps the hand away that comes up to his shoulder. “Now. We’re talking about this now.”

“What territory are you talking about?” Namjoon asks, perplexed.

“Hope,” Yoongi mutters, glancing at the two groupies behind Namjoon when they begin to shift on their feet at the mention of the name.

“Hope—“ Namjoon instantly brings his hands up into his hair and furiously disheveled it. “That little teenage shit?!”

It’s Yoongi’s turn to look bemused at Namjoon. “He’s only a teenager?!” the raven haired doesn’t want to think about the fact that his voice came out hoarse. “He’s got rock hard abs!”

“That’s because he’s a military brat,” one of the men behind Namjoon points out. Yoongi remembers his street name was V—his actual name being Taehyung. “He’s been trained by his dad since he was ten.”

“No wonder he was dodging my knife like a goddamn ninja,” Yoongi grits out, bringing his hand to his face.

Namjoon raises his hands once more, a look of surrender. “Listen, Yoongi,” he starts. “The only territory I’ve been into recently was Rabbit’s. We’re allies remember?”