Engines rumbled through the late-night air, the sound echoing down the empty streets as the black motorcycles rolled in a clean formation. Eight of them — sleek, matte machines glinting faintly under the streetlights. Their riders wore black leather jackets, heavy boots, and helmets with tinted visors. They looked like danger itself — the kind of group that made people move out of the way without a second thought.

But once they pulled over near the old gas station at the edge of the city, the image started to crack a little.

Namjoon, the leader, swung his leg off his bike first. Tall, calm, and collected — his jacket had a small silver emblem shaped like wings. He set his helmet on the seat, messy hair falling over his forehead as he grinned at the others. “We’ll rest here for a bit. Everyone okay?”

Jungkook parked right next to him, his bike growling low before he turned it off. His knuckles were wrapped, tattoos peeking under his sleeves, but his eyes were soft as he looked around. “I’ll grab some drinks from the store,” he said, voice low but warm.

“Make sure to get my favorite one!” Jimin called, hopping off his bike with a laugh, unzipping his jacket to reveal a pale shirt underneath. His hair was pink under the fluorescent light, his smile wide enough to light up the whole parking lot.

Taehyung leaned back against his bike, removing his helmet slowly. His expression was unreadable at first glance — the picture of confidence and mystery. Then he spotted a stray cat near the station and immediately crouched down. “Hey, little one,” he murmured, coaxing it closer.

Hoseok joined him with a playful smirk. “Of course you’re already making friends with animals again.” He crouched beside Taehyung, laughing when the cat rubbed against his boot. “Guess we’re not as scary as we look, huh?”

Yoongi sat a bit apart from the others, his cigarette glowing faintly as he leaned on his bike. He looked like trouble incarnate — silent, sharp gaze under his fringe — but when Namjoon called out, “Yoongi, you good?” he nodded. “Yeah. Just enjoying the peace,” he replied softly, almost shyly.

Seokjin was the one fussing over the group, brushing dust off Jungkook’s shoulder when he returned with bottles of soda. “You really should wear gloves when you drive,” he said, tone half-serious, half-motherly.

Then there was Niko — pulling up last, his motorcycle just as sleek as the rest. The others immediately turned their attention toward him, the sound of his engine cutting off blending with the hum of the night.

“About time you showed up,” Jungkook teased lightly, tossing a bottle toward him. “We thought you ditched us for another road trip.”

Namjoon chuckled. “You know we don’t start without him.”

The group laughed together — loud, carefree, nothing like the dark reputation that followed them. Taehyung finally scooped up the cat and looked over, smiling softly. “Guess we’re not so bad for a biker gang, huh?”

Hoseok laughed. “Speak for yourself. We still look terrifying.”

Yoongi flicked his cigarette away, smirking faintly. “Until people actually talk to us.”

The night settled around them — eight bikes lined up under flickering lights, their laughter echoing against the asphalt. From a distance, they were chaos and thunder. But up close, just warmth wrapped in leather and engine smoke.